#but father brown adjacent

[feliciamontagues]

Does anyone else kind of ship Peggy/Felix, or is it just me?

[chimivx]

That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?

👫 -> college!teez x fem!reader/oc {frat/sorority} #️⃣ -> 11k (part ONE of ten) ‼️ -> 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, heavy angst, infidelity adjacent moments, mean boys, mean girls, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

september 3rd ~ tuesday ~ 8:03 a.m.

“Up!”

A perfectly manicured hand in the shape of a fist pounded against your bedroom door, the noise funneling straight into your hungover brain, the pain sharp as you lurched forward in your sheets. Pushing your hair away, you drug your hands over your face and around your eyes, groaning at the leftover makeup that came off on your fingers. Looking down at yourself, thankfully you were in sleep clothes, but you don’t remember putting them on.

“Get up!” The fist pounded on the white wood again, four times. It was Yeji, your sororities newly elected president. She wasn’t your first choice, but your former president graduated last year. Yeji wasn’t anyone’s first choice actually, nobody voted for her or vouched for her, she was handed the position because she was the Paris Hilton of your generation.

No one dared say that to her face though, but she knew it anyway. Her great-grandfather had a shit ton of money, which meant her grandfather had a shit ton of money, which in turn left her father with a shit ton of money, and after all these years and the plethora of businesses they own… People knew who Yeji was. She was your age, twenty-one, and in your year. You’ve gone through the last two years of school with her, and now you’re a few days away from starting your third with her as your president.

“Meeting! Now! Up!” She was strutting up and down the hall, circling the staircase, and banging on your door again. The heels she already had on at eight o’clock in the morning hit the floor with a persistence, you could hear her when she rounded the wood floors once more.

A groan sounded from the bed pushed to the wall opposite of your own. “If she doesn’t shut the fuck up, I swear…” Rubbing your eyes for the second time, hoping to clean up what was left under them, you toss your rumpled sheets off your legs and slip out of bed. 

“Come on,” you sighed, pulling sweatpants over your bare legs. A sleep shirt made it on, apparently pants did not. You weren’t as coherent as you thought last night. Another groan came from the bed of messy blankets and piles of pillows. “Tori,” you said, hearing the heels from the hall make their way around. Pulling your hair into something a bit nicer than whatever mess you woke up with, you take to your roommate's side and pull her blankets off of her. “She’ll be back if we don’t go out there now.”

“You’re lucky I put clothes on,” she laughed to herself, rolling over. A smile lit up her face as she stretched her arms over her head with a yawn. 

Rolling your eyes you folded your arms over your chest and shrugged. “I think I’ve seen more than Mingi.” Tori squeezed her eyes shut and breathed through a laugh.

“He’s so-”

“I know.” Cutting her off, you shared a laugh with her through your glare before gesturing to the door. “Let’s go.”

Tori sat herself up and messed with her tank, yanking it toward the diamond in her bellybutton. Situating her long brown waves into the quickest, yet prettiest pony, she eyed you while you attempted to clean yourself up in the wall length mirror in between your beds. 

“What’s up your ass?” She peered at the door as the high heels clicked closer.

Fixing your hair for the second time, you grit your teeth and sighed. “Nothing.”

Tori narrowed her eyes. “What’d Yunho say to you last night?”

“Nothing,” you said, turning to her once you were satisfied with your appearance. Tori has this ability to wake up and go, doing little to her hair or face, able to move on with her day. It was effortless, something you’ve been trying to achieve since high school.

She pursed her lips. “Alright, but I thought I saw-”

“Up!” Yeji’s fist hit the wood and Tori solved the issue herself.

“We are!” The shout echoed in your ears and most likely worsened either of your headaches, if she had one. She was able to bounce back like she didn’t outdrink you mere hours ago.

“All I needed.” Yeji’s passive aggressive tone seeped through the cracks of the door and sunk into your skin like needles. “Be downstairs in two minutes.” Pressing your sweaty palms to your sweats, you looked at Tori who was questioning you with a brow.

“You really don’t like her,” she said as Yeji walked away.

“Never have,” you whispered. “She didn’t earn her position. Four months ago she was chugging beer with us in ATZ’s basement, and now she’s this?” You hoped your gesture toward the door was enough, emphasizing the heels and the power she was trying to exert over you on her third day of presidency. Since you’ve been back she’s turned into a complete snob. 

Tori bobbed her head, letting her eyes dance around the bedroom you’ve both turned into your own. “Yeah, she’s a bitch.”

“Always has been,” you snapped.

“You sure it’s not ‘cause-”

Turning your back to her you cut her off by pulling the door open. “Let’s go,” you said, ignoring her soft laugh.

Stepping out into the hall that wrapped around the staircase in a square, all the other doors were shut, all seven of them. The old Victorian styled home had been renovated entirely too many times that the vintage appeal was almost nonexistent. The eight rooms on this second floor had all been converted to bedrooms back in the 1990’s completely wiping it of all its historical semblance.

Chestnut brown hardwood floors infested the building, on both floors, in every room, and every wall had to have been repainted white dozens of times. The layers were apparent on the wainscotting, it was obvious there was wallpaper beneath the cheap job the previous chapter member’s tried to pull off as nice.

At least photos hung on the plain walls. The sororities history, your history, was plastered high and low for everyone to gawk at. Every year a portrait was added, since the sorority was established. You’ve been in two of them so far. The first was taken when you and Tori were freshman, two little bright eyed recruits paying your dues before you were given the chance to join as full fledged members. Sophomore year, just last year after official recruitment, you and Tori were in the first official row with Yeji a few heads over.

Last year there were ten more girls in the photo. Six had graduated this past spring, and four were freshman recruits who didn’t come back to school, or turned down their chance at recruitment. Rumor has it it’s because Yeji’s name was on the letter instead of the former president who they dealt with last semester. A rumor you chose to believe.

Only one freshman stayed. Her name was Mina, and she was exceptionally smart. Studying pre-law here at Nasara, on her recruitment registration she made a note that this school was her fathers alma mater. That fact coupled with her crazy GPA throughout her school life, she was an automatic in.

And thank god, too. As your, chosen by Yeji, Vice President, she made nine.

There were nine of you in this house when there used to be nineteen.

Sorority life was becoming some obscure way of spending your time at college, not many people wanted to do it anymore. Throughout the summer you had to hear through Ryujin, the only standing senior this year, that Yeji had been losing her mind asking her for help, some sort of direction on what to do, how to build this chapter back into what it once had been.

ITZ used to have around fifty members at all times.

This year you were down to nine.

Making sure Tori pulled the door shut behind her, not needing prying eyes in your business, the door beside yours is yanked open. In black basketball shorts and a matching sports bra Ryujin steps out with squinted eyes, glaring toward you and Tori. Messy bangs hung over her forehead, her shoulder length shaggy hair pulled behind her head in a terrible bun.

“Hey, she’s alive,” Tori joked, following you to the staircase. Smiling at Ryujin who teetered behind you, several inches shorter than Tori, just about your height, you laughed as she smacked a hand to your roommates tattooed arm. 

“Didn’t think Isla would be able to resuscitate you,” you said quietly, descending the grand staircase with both of them in line with you. Ryujin drug the back of her hand over her mouth and shook her head vigorously, pointing up at Tori.

“If she didn’t make me play Jongho in flip cup I’d be fine,” she sneered from behind her teeth. Tori slung an arm around her shoulders, laughing as she did. “No!” Ryujin half laughed, trying to shove her off. Looking to you for help she said, “One on one! You know how big that motherfucker is?”

Nodding, you stepped off the bottom stair and scanned the first floor for life. “I do know how big that motherfucker is.” Voice low, eyes pointed, when you turned to face your friends you were met with a set of curious eyes and equally annoyed ones.

“What’s your problem?” Ryujin asked, letting Tori squeeze her. Anyone friends with her knew that if she was letting you touch her, you’d better get all your time in before she never let you touch her for another two weeks. Tori pressed her cheek to Ryujin’s forehead, playing up her gushiness with a hum. That triggered it. Ryujin nudged her away with her hip. “Were you sick? What happened?”

“No, I didn’t drink that much,” you breathed.

Tori tossed her arms out at her side, unaffected by Ryujin’s shove. “She hates Yeji.”

“Don’t we all?” Ryujin looked up at her. Pointing her eyes back to you she did a onceover and curled her lip. “Oh, wait, ‘cause-”

“No!” your voice echoed down the hall that stretched along both sides of the staircase. Folding her arms over her bare middle, Ryujin smirked, nodding once. Then, she was off, turning the right corner toward the sitting room.

Double doors lived on either side of you and Tori at the bottom of the stairs, ahead of you was the front door, double latched and locked always. To your left was the living room, the common area where you’d all hang out or do school work, and to your right was the dining room. A long wooden table stretched along the middle, on top of a dingy carpet bought by a chapter centuries ago it seemed. That was the only room that held the most vintage vibe, the chandelier hanging over the table was original, it was different colored stained glass and beautiful.

Down the hall to the right was the sitting room where all of the meetings happened, where Yeji had a desk and shelves and more space to do her job as if she didn’t already have a room to herself in a house with three vacant bedrooms. To the left there was the kitchen and a bathroom shoved into what would be the maids quarters if it were hundreds of years ago. The walls were layered in white paint down here as well, with more recent photos of the sorority hanging up.

“Not gonna talk about it,” Tori said for clarity. Sharpening your glare, she cringed. “Got it, alright. You won’t hear it come outta my mouth ever again.”

Groaning, you bounced your knees once and snatched her wrist, pulling her down the hallway after Ryujin, straight into the room where all of your sisters were waiting for you. The dark haired girl had already found a spot beside Isla, her roommate, on the couch pushed against the wall in the back of the room. Sporting tired eyes and a slightly mussed up slick back, Isla fought to keep her head up.

Yuna, the chapter's Treasurer, fought to keep her head up as well. Nestled into one of the sage green velvet lounge chairs with a high back, dressed in the same shirt she wore last night, she had her chin in her hand and her elbow on the velvet.

Three heads turned to watch you and Tori walk in, your roommate giggling as they spun in sync. Chaeryeong, the chapter’s Secretary, a Criminal Justice major with the cutest nose, gave you the tiniest smile. Lia, luscious black hair in Pre-Med, sat up straight on the edge of the couch to the side of Yeji’s wood carved desk. Mina was the only one to say something to you, giving you the sweetest good morning before tucking her dark brown bob behind her ears.

The three were not in attendance at ATZ's party last night.

Four if you count Yeji.

Lord knew you were not counting Yeji.

“Sisters.” The wretched voice began the second you and Tori were planted on the floor in front of Ryujin and Isla. Yeji, flipping her ombre hair over her shoulder, hair that was already curled and set into place, rounded her desk and sat in the leather chair behind it. She did already have heels on at eight in the morning, heels and little lavender sundress.

“Madam President,” Ryujin muttered, pulling a smirk out of you and a laugh from Tori. Chaeryeong flipped open a notebook she had on her lap, the click of her pen wiping your lips of any amusement. 

This really was a meeting.

Yeji smiled at Ryujin, leaning onto her desk with her elbows. “Thank you, Ryujin,” she said, tone in defense. “That is what I am,” she scanned her eyes about the room, “That is the role that I am here to fill, to be a leader for you. All of you.” Chaeryeong scribbled away in her notes. “We’ve been here for three days and I’m already concerned for our future moving forward.” Tori hit you with a side eye, one you returned holding in a laugh.

Ryujin grumbled. “Yeji, what happened, can you just tell us straight up?”

“Course!” Yeji grinned, her smile somewhat sadistic. Opening the laptop that sat before her, she spun the screen around and then worked at her phone, tapping a few buttons before a video popped up on the bigger screen. Tori reached a frantic hand over and clawed your forearm.

“That’s Mingi’s Instagram story,” she whispered. “Why are we watching Mingi’s Instagram story?”

Music pumped through the speakers, familiar sounds from the night before coming back to you. Boys were shouting, girls were singing, people were dancing… Tori had a red cup to her lips, downing the contents before throwing it toward Mingi who held the phone. With a lick of her lips and a raise of both her arms she cheered for herself as Mingi praised her. She started dancing along to the music and Mingi’s voice said, “Almost caught up to me, baby,” right before the screen went black.

Tori’s grip loosened on your arm. Looking at you, then Ryujin and Isla, who had dozed off, she faced Yeji for the reason why, but your president was silent. Tapping a few things on her screen, another video played.

Yuna and her chocolate curls were posing with San, identical music blasting in the back like Mingi’s post. She stuck her tongue out and threw up a peace sign, then laughed and focused on someone off screen.

“Here.” It was Jongho’s voice. San adjusted the camera so he was still in frame, keeping Yuna and Jongho just over his shoulder. The boy showed off his jaw that could cut glass, then smiled as he watched his friends take a shot in the camera.

“God, it’s gasoline,” Yuna cringed, grabbing her mouth, dropping the cup into Jongho’s hand.

The screen went black.

The room was silent. Yuna, from the chair across the room, sent the four of you a glance, all of you collectively wondering the same thing.

Where the hell was this going?

“Yeji-”

She didn’t let Ryujin finish, she played another video.

Wooyoung’s Instagram story. Tori turned her chin to look at you this time.

His camera focused on a group of girls dancing with him, every single one of them tagged in the video somewhere. Then, he flipped it around and wore a smug grin as he weaved through the bodies congregating in his house, searching for something.

“Do you see everybody over here having a good time?!” His voice carried through the video, flipping your stomach over. His face appeared on the screen, his tan skin and his perfectly curved nose. “ATZ, baby!” He flashed his teeth and bit his lip. The camera flipped over as he approached a dark corner, and there you were.

Sitting on the arm of the leather couch with a red cup in your hand, your legs were stretched over Yunho’s lap, his arms folded over your knees. One of his frat brothers, Vernon, stood behind you, leaning over the back of the couch so he could involve himself in your conversation. He was partially spotting you where you sat, his hand occasionally tapping your back to keep you in place if you leaned back too far.

You didn’t drink that much.

“What the fuck goes on over here?” Wooyoung asked, the three of you looking up at him at once, confused. Yunho, mid sentence, shook his head and tried to smile because the camera was on him. Vernon hid his face and ducked out of frame.

“Bro, you can’t do that,” he muttered off screen.

Narrowing your eyes, you glared at him. “Fuck off.”

His gasp would’ve made you laugh if it was seven months ago. “Chill, baby, what do you mean!”

“Fuck off,” you said without a change in your face. Yunho took his lips between his teeth and glanced at your lap. Wooyoung came closer to you.

“I just wanted to ask you a question.” You could hear his pout through the screen without needing to see it. Raising a brow in response, he hit you with, “How’s your brand new president? Yeji at ITZ? Is she as good as she promised?”

“You tell me,” you said without missing a beat. Wooyoung’s laugh sent chills up your spine where you sat on the floor with Tori’s hand clamped to your wrist. “How good is President Yeji?”

The screen went black.

Chaeryeong had stopped scribbling. Mina, jaw popped open, stared at you. Lia chewed on an acrylic nail and waited for Yeji to say anything else. Ryujin tapped your shoulder with a socked foot and breathed through a laugh.

Yeji snapped her laptop shut and placed her phone on the desk. Folding her hands in front of her she pointed her fox-like eyes toward you and lowered her chin. The stance was terrifying. Her ability to tear a person apart in seconds was mortifyingly impressive. Under the impression that it was your turn, that you broke a house rule, Yeji seemed ready to unload her presidential take on the situation by kicking you out.

“Repeat after me, sisters,” she said, tone eerily calm. The three who weren’t hungover snapped up straight. “I wear ITZ letters with pride.”

Looking at Tori, you parroted Yeji’s statement. ITZ’s Mission Statement. The rules. The insane paragraph you had to memorize to get recruited. Your friend gave you the smallest shrug and focused back on the president.

“It is my mission, my duty, to honor the members of ITZ, my sisters, by living up to the standards set in place by our sisters before us. Leading by example we support, encourage, and lift our fellow sisters up. In doing so we support, encourage, and lift the world up. One person at a time. We promote unity, and friendship, while receiving a higher education, to relay to women everywhere that, ‘Yes, we can.’”

After a few minutes the room fell silent, only Yeji’s eyes scanned the faces before her. Mushing her lips together, her red lip stain, she fluttered her lashes and smiled without flashing her teeth. She gave Chaeryeong a glance and the secretary flipped open her notebook.

“Sisters, it seems we have a problem,” she sighed. Some form of a pout graced her lips. “I think we’ve forgotten what it means to be a part of a sisterhood like ITZ. We’ve felt it, haven’t we?” Lia bobbed her head. Mina took Yeji in with worried eyes. “Look around,” half the girls listened, “How many of us are here?”

“Nine,” Lia said, and Ryujin snickered.

“Nine,” Yeji smiled at the girl in front of her just to spite the senior. “Thank you, Lia.”

“You’re welcome.” She nibbled at her cuticles. 

“There may be nine of us in the room, but how many of us are actually present?” Yeji looked to Yuna, then to Ryujin, then to Tori, then to you. “Aurora.” Addressing you by your full name she got you to shiver with a smidgen of fear. “Can you tell me where the five of you went last night?”

Gulping, you said just above a whisper, “ATZ.”

Yeji’s stare intensified, if it were possible. “ATZ,” she shimmied her shoulders, “How fun. What did you guys do there?” 

Tori’s grip had loosened on your wrist, but she didn’t move it.

“We went to the party,” you said, keeping your eyes locked on hers. “They throw one almost every night the first week back, you’ve been-“

“You went without the rest of us knowing,” Yeji tilted her head to the side, paying no mind to the sentence she interrupted. “Were we not invited?”

Ryujin mumbled something under her breath and shifted on the couch behind you. Tori gave her a glance and a small smile.

“Everyone is invited, there’s… there’s no invites,” you narrowed your eyes. It was a college party. A college party that was basic information to everyone who attended. ATZ threw their week-long back to school ragers every single year. It was their fraternity’s tradition. Everyone at Nasara has been to an ATZ party. Even Yeji.

“Hm,” she smushed her lips together. “Guess we missed that. Did you guys have fun?” The way her brows closed in on her forehead sparked a fight or flight feeling in your gut.

Taking a breath, you smiled. “We did.” Gesturing toward her laptop, you said, “Couldn’t you tell?” 

“We support, encourage, and lift our fellow sisters up,” Yeji snapped, repeating the mission statement. “None of what I saw reflected ITZ’s mission at all.” Pointing her eyes to those who attended the party, she said, “Now that we’re halfway through our first week I think it’s the perfect time to set some new rules into place. Rush is coming up, recruitment happens soon, and I’ll be damned if I acquire any more girls with the mentality half of you have. ITZ is a respectable sorority and I intend to keep it that way.”

“Is that what you were thinking when you fucked Wooyoung in Hongjoongs bed?”

Ryujin’s words suffocated you from behind. They wrapped around you and yanked you six feet under. Tori’s hand clamped down on your wrist tight. Shaking her away, she pulled her hands into her lap and shot you a look.

“ATZ is off limits!” Yeji’s voice packed a punch. Her smirk grew as gasps tumbled through most of your lips. “We are through with them.”

“How? They’re literally the brother frat, Yej.” Ryujin sat forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. Her version of an apology.

Tori lifted a hand. “I work with Mingi, how am I supposed to do my job?”

Clenching her jaw, Yeji took a breath through her nose and attempted a normal smile. “We’ll do our jobs. We’ll throw the mixers, the dinners. We’ll host the fundraisers together. We’ll do it all. But, under no circumstances will any member of ITZ ever be seen with a member of ATZ.” Not a soul attempted to counteract, not even Ryujin. “ATZ is off limits. No parties. No sex. No posts. Nothing.”

september 3rd ~ tuesday ~ 12:47 p.m.

Mina sat at the end of the dining room table, a book in one hand and a pencil in the other as she scribbled into a notebook while her eyes scanned the text. The title on the leather bound book was illegible, completely worn off by years and years of use. She’s clung to this same book for a year now, she’s been seen with it since she started here, it came with her from home. 

“And I don’t know what the fuck her problem is,” Yuna whispered beside Tori, leaning toward Ryujin sitting across from her. “Ever since we’ve been back she’s been so uptight.”

Mina paid no mind to the whispers happening a few feet from where she studied. The table was long enough to provide ample space for everyone, the sophomore was often found here working her time away. Her brown bob laid effortlessly at her chin, curving a bit outward, showcasing her beauty. 

“She’s already had me run through our plan for the year, like, eighteen fucking times,” Yuna bugged her eyes out of her head and Tori snickered. “She’s driving me nuts!”

Ryujin cocked her head toward you. “You and Aurora could swap complaints.”

“I have nothing to say,” you whispered, shoving a nail between your teeth, keeping your focus on Mina. It was as if she was in the room alone, like she was used to background noise. Lifting a finger to flip a page in her ancient book, she used the same finger to tuck her hair behind her ear, then glanced to her paper to circle something she wrote earlier. 

She spoke when spoken too, but not out of punishment, or fear of. She was study focused, always, you’ve all learned since she was in high school. Her GPA was higher than every being’s at this very table. The girl was a genius, she was quick witted, but not only that, she was kind. 

The chatter ensued around you.

“Well, what does Isla have to say about this?” Tori asked Ryujin, twirling her wavy hair around a finger. There had been plenty of time after the meeting for you all to process what had happened, and to shower. Tori made it a point to blow dry her hair, curl it, and gloss her lips, snapping a selfie in the mirror between your beds to send to Mingi.

Ryujin, with her feet on the chair, shrugged her shoulders. Her shaggy hair hung at her shoulders now. “Fuck if I know,” she said. “She’s been worse than last year. Even this summer, I can’t remember when she wasn’t drunk.”

Yuna furrowed her brows. “Is it still her brother?”

Ryujin shook her head, glancing to her bare knees before she said, “It’s never been about that, they’re close. I mean, he’s far away, we all know that, so… Maybe it is DK.”

“She was the one who chose to go to school here,” Tori said, pursing her lips, leaning onto the table on an elbow. “Maybe she should’ve gone closer to him.”

“She came to Nasara to do something for herself,” Ryujin lowered her chin. “What did she tell you all at recruitment, you all were there with her. She wants to be her own person, not be forced into the ‘I have a famous older brother’ box. Her grades weren’t bad last semester, but she hasn’t had a sober minute since she’s been here. Last night Vernon and I couldn’t keep her on her feet.”

“Vernon plays baseball,” Tori said matter of factly, and Ryujin bobbed her head. “Does he know DK?”

“Everyone knows DK,” Yuna smirked, tapping Tori’s ankle with her sandal. “That's why all the boys can’t leave her alone.”

Tori’s expression pulled into one of worry, her eyes darting between Ryujin and Yuna. “That’s… not good.”

“Vernon usually ends up around her,” Ryujin said. “He’s a safe dude, and a huge help. He doesn’t really drink too much, he’s like Yunho.”

Mina peered up, curiosity in her eyes. You glanced away quickly, looking at your friends.

“Yunho’s a safe guy, too,” Tori nodded, and Yuna agreed. Turning to you, your roommate asked, “You were hanging with him last night?”

Taking a breath, you hummed in response, feeling Mina’s eyes on you. “We were hanging, yeah.”

Tori smiled, then sat back in her seat and glanced toward the sophomore at the end of the table. “Mina, you agree, don’t you?”

The girl blushed in real time, right here in front of you all. The old book found the table, and she smiled. “I wasn’t listening… Sorry. What did you say?”

“Yunho,” Tori said, and Mina smiled wider. “You were so listening, silly.” Yuna laughed, finding it all too cute. “Go ahead, how is he?”

Shifting in her seat, Mina folded her hands over her lap and studied the room, then met eyes with each of you. “He’s very nice,” she said, voice as gentle as snow when it falls. “I’ve never met anyone like him. That probably sounds insanely naive, but it’s the truth.”

“Not naive, I think it’s sweet,” Ryujin said. Yuna and Tori shot her a look and she laughed. “What?”

“Miss big, scary, lesbian, hates men and all relationships thinks it’s sweet!?” Tori’s tone had you all laughing, even Mina.

Ryujin rolled her eyes. “It’s sweet,” she said, shooting Tori a look before she turned back to Mina. “You guys are made for each other, I swear.”

The smile that washed over the sophomore tugged at your heart.

“He came to my house this summer,” she said, eyes full of adoration. “He met my parents, my brothers… We all had dinner together, and then we went out to a park to watch the sunset, and we just… talked.” The four of you were silent watching her relive her summer night in real time. Tori and your friends wore the smallest of smiles, but her words churned your stomach over. “We shared so much with each other,” she nodded, then shook her head, “I trust him. He doesn’t care that I don’t like the parties, or that I don’t drink… He kissed me that night.”

Tori’s gasp threw you all backward, then straight into fits of laughter.

“Fuckin’ Christ!” Yuna shouted, whacking a hand at her arm.

“I’m sorry!” Tori clamped a hand to her neck, throwing her head backward. “It’s so innocent and cute!”

Ryujin almost snorted. “Nothing like you, I fucked him when I met him!”

Reaching across the table, slapping a hand onto the wood, Tori’s eyes went wide, her grin even wider. “I did, you know what? And I have NO shame about it!”

“Yeah, well, hope you fucked him last night ‘casue now there won’t be any of that anymore,” Ryujin crossed her arms. Tori’s face fell. The way she sat backward and looked at her lap made you pop out your lip. Taking a hand to her shoulder she leaned into your touch and shot you her puppy dog eyes.

“Ror, what about you?” she asked, then she blew air out of her glossy lips and blinked. “You’re probably happy with these rules now, aren’t you?” 

Eyeing the girls around the table, everyone curious aside from Mina who turned back toward her work, you took a deep breath and shrugged. “I like ATZ parties,” you nearly whispered. “I really think this is going to suck.” Gesturing toward Yuna and Tori with a nod, you said, “Plus, you two still have to try to work with them, so I don’t understand how any of this is going to work out.”

“Yeji’s insecure,” Ryujin spat. She pointed her dark eyes at you. “But, I do think if you didn’t say what you said… On video… For Wooyoung’s thirty thousand followers to see… We wouldn’t have to deal with this.”

Turning in your chair to face her, you screwed your brows together and cocked your chin. “I’m to blame!?” You tossed a hand toward your friends to your right. “These two were on video, too! I wasn’t making a total fool of myself.”

“Hey,” Tori frowned, nudging your leg with hers. You gave her and Yuna an apology with your eyes, then sighed heavily. “Maybe you should talk to Yeji and sort this out.”

“How?” you rolled your head backward and almost let out a groan. “She’s doing it on purpose. Now that she’s got this power she’s going to control us all, turn us into her little minions. I told Yunho last night that ITZ was gonna turn into Yeji-TZ.”

“Where’d you guys disappear to? I couldn’t find you until you told me you were ready to leave.” Tori met your eyes as you breathed.

“Outside. The noise was nauseating, Wooyoung pissed me off, and I had too much on my mind.” 

Your roommate reached over and smoothed a hand over yours. “Valid,” she said, pulling her lips into a tiny frown.

“She wants a better image for us,” Ryujin said, going over what had been discussed in the meeting this morning. “She wasn’t wrong, we need more girls. I’m a little worried about what recruitment is going to look like this year.” The senior looked at Mina. “We need more girls like that.”

The door to the dining room pushed open with force, the glass windows rattling as it swung into the white wall. Isla, freshly showered, but still staggering on her feet, wandered around the table to Ryujin’s side, where the senior pulled a chair out for her.

“And less like this,” she whispered with a nod toward Isla. “Just watch what you guys say, especially on social media.” Ryujin wrapped an arm around Isla who leaned on her shoulder. “As much as I deliberately hate following rules… It’s Yeji. She’ll do anything to look good. Keep your mouths shut about her and once recruitment is done we’ll be back in ATZ’s basement. I’m sure of it.”

Tori pulled her phone out of her pocket and smiled at a message.

Mingi.

The two weren’t officially dating, but if freshman and sophomore year taught any of you guys anything, it was that Tori and Mingi were exclusively for one another, and that made this new ATZ Off Limits Rule all the more annoying. Yeji knew Tori and Mingi had a thing, Yeji knew that Mina and Yunho were on the start of something. 

The start of something great. The start of something that yanked your heart into the depths of yourself because you were onto the start of something great your sophomore year.

Something great that Yeji swooped into the middle of and messed up.

For weeks he was after you. Teasing you, flirting with you for hours at ATZ parties, challenging you to drinking games, wanting to be paired up with you for fundraisers and events. He made it a point to be the first to send you a text on your birthday, and then to be the first one to post about it. He beat Tori by seven minutes.

You knew he was trouble, he had a reputation. 

Wooyoung was the only member of ATZ to have bad rumors about him circling Nasara’s campus. But, it was the typical shit one would automatically assume. He didn’t call a girl back after they slept together, or he flirted his way into getting a girl to do his homework for him only to sleep with her and never call her again, or how he almost got a professor fired because they allegedly had an affair so his grades would go up.

Everyone is pretty certain that last one is false, but you’ve never heard him publicly deny it.

Either way, you ignored all the red flags he was blatantly waving in your face. Weeks into his games, you fell. Hard. Under the impression that he had fallen too, obviously the reason why he was playing these games with you, you opened yourself up to the idea of him, the idea of being with him, and your heart loved it. Legitimately loved it. Your friends at ITZ were excited for you, and some of the boys you were close with at ATZ were into it too. Though one warned you, Yunho, you took it upon yourself to ignore him.

You could trust Wooyoung. The way he looked at you, the way his hands would linger on you, how he’d shower you with compliments and turn you into a blushing, giggling mess… You could trust him.

Until you couldn’t.

ATZ threw a party the night before Spring Break, just months ago, at the beginning of this year. All of ITZ was in attendance, even Mina, the wide eyed freshman recruit who quickly found comfort at Yunho’s side. It was hours into the night, drinks had gone down too easy, everyone was exhausted and ready for break, and you were about to leave with Tori in hand. Searching for Wooyoung, asking every person you passed if they’d seen him, they shrugged and sent you on your way.

Yunho, sitting on the stairs with Yeosang and Seonghwa, was the one to press his lips together and nod behind him. Dragging Tori along with you, she pinched Yeosang’s cheek on the way up and ruffled his wavy hair. Calling out for Wooyoung, pushing every door on the second floor open, they were all empty, so you trekked up to the third, spinning up another staircase. Tori was babbling on about the fun she and Mingi were having when you pushed Hongjoongs door open at the same time Yeji was yanking it open.

Tori’s laugh of disbelief had never been louder.

Behind Yeji’s devious smirk and trashed composure, Wooyoung stood there shirtless, zipping up his jeans. Unfazed, he had glanced up at the opening of the door and smirked as well. He pulled his shirt over his head and brushed past between you, making a god awful joke about how three girls were after him now, being sure to look down at you with purpose before returning to the party.

The rest of the semester went as expected. Short, sweet, and fast. Or, it was just that you were so focused on ignoring almost everybody that it felt that way. You took your finals, Yeji was appointed future president, and you and Tori packed your room up.

You only attended one ATZ party after the return from Spring Break, one you hovered around Yunho at. The go-to would be Tori, but she and Mingi were attached at the hip, it was impossible to get between them.

“You didn’t tell him what happened did you?” Ryujin looked at Tori’s phone, to which your roommate cringed. “Oh, Tor, come on.” Yuna sighed with the senior.

Tori clicked her tongue and half laughed. “What was I supposed to do? I tell him everything!”

“As disgustingly sweet as that is, you were supposed to not tell him,” Ryujin said, looking your way. “Least not until Aurora fixes this.” The look you gave her made her laugh. “Just go say you’re sorry or something, kiss her ass.”

“Ryujin, I’d rather kiss yours,” you smized, and Isla showed signs of life with a giggle. “Oh, she’s conscious.” Isla picked her head up and flashed you her dazzling smile.

“I am,” she said. “I don’t remember last night.” The four of you swallowed your smiles for her sake and simply voiced your concerns with quiet sounds that got her to giggle again. “Think I’m still drunk or somethin’.” 

Ryujin took the hand of the arm around her roommate and gently laid her head back on her shoulder. “Close your eyes, Jagiya.”

Yuna’s mouth fell open. “Don’t call her that.”

“She’s the only one… who can,” Isla mumbled, slapping a hand against the table, startling Mina who glanced up from her book for all of two seconds. “Stupid ass name,” she muttered, her eyes shut, full thick lashes splayed out on her smooth as silk cheeks. “Stupid famous parents… Naming stupid ass kids… Brother gets Seokmin, now he’s Dokyeom… What do I get?”

“She’s not okay,” you whispered, and Ryujin shook her head. “What can we do?”

Things were quiet for all of eight seconds, until Mina spoke up.

“It could be a good thing,” she said, catching all of your eyes except Isla’s. She blinked and gulped. “The ban.” Her volume dropped exponentially. “The ATZ ban. Even though I know you’ve got…” she gestured to Tori, then herself, “We’ve got… Boys. It gives Isla a break from parties, and gives us more time here, right?” Yuna spared a glance toward the three of you, gauging how you were supposed to react. “We can all help her get back on track. I know a few easy ways to start the process.”

Yuna pursed her lips. “How?”

Mina put down her book. “My mom. She’s been sober for a really long time though, but she’s been open with me and my brothers about her struggle. It’s like a literal gene that can get passed down, so any of us could have it. My two older brothers have a different dad, and he’s a former addict, so they’re doubly careful, but… I think I can work something out to help Isla.” The small smile she gave all of you felt like a sin after what she had just spilled.

Ryujin moved Isla’s hair from her face, the girl's breathing having gotten heavier since she laid down. Giving Mina a smile, she nodded in appreciation. “I think that’d be awesome.”

Mina nibbled her bottom lip, picking her book up. “You’re not as scary as you appear to be.” Laughing with Yuna and Tori, the three of you lost it as Ryujin’s jaw fell open. The sophomore, smug as ever, focused on her notes. 

“Not as scary as I appear to be,” Ryujin repeated in a whisper to herself. “Noted.”

september 3rd ~ tuesday ~ 11:19 p.m.

“I can’t believe he hit thirty thousand followers over the summer,” Tori mumbled from where she was splayed over her bed. Laying on her back, her long brown hair fanned out behind her, she scrolled on her phone, tapping away at the screen. “They go up little by little everyday.”

“You keep checking?” Lifting your eyes from the schedule in your hand you laughed as she shot you a cheesy smile. She rolled to her side, her hair brushing over her bare shoulders. The tank she put on for bed was dark blue and had Nasara and ITZ on the front in white graffiti letters. Half of last year's car wash fundraiser outfit.

“He’s the first out of all of us to hit thirty thousand, Ror,” she said to you like you were out of the loop, like you too weren’t actively watching Wooyoung’s Instagram all summer.

Glancing at your schedule, the many bullet points of assignments and work needing to be done by the end of the semester plaguing you with a knot in your chest, you sighed and shook your head. “Vernon has almost fifty thousand, Tor.”

“He’s a baseball player, Ror,” she narrowed her eyes. “And he’s being scoped out by so many MLB teams right now. He’s only a junior and these managers want to pull him out of school so he can play for them. That’s how good he is.”

You gave her a glance, circling the assignment for an essay in the middle of the second sheet you held onto. “You sure do know a lot about Vernon.”

Tori focused back on her phone and giggled at something. Typing a mile a minute, she tucked her hair behind her ear and adjusted the stud in her nose before looking back up at you. “I just ask questions.” You met her gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Not for social advancement, Aurora, because I care, that’s why.”

A smile pricked at your lips, one that made her whine and tip her head backward. “I’m just saying! All of the guys at ATZ have always had more attention on social media. And, for the record, he’s not the first to hit thirty thousand, Yeji hit thirty thousand followers when she was like, in high school, or something. She’s closer to two hundred thousand.”

Tori flopped onto her back and turned her attention to her phone. “Whatever, I wasn’t counting her. She’s on a whole different level than any of us are.”

“Unfortunately,” you grumbled, flipping through the rest of your schedule.

Tori lifted her head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. No one has to mean it like that, no matter what it’s gonna hurt.”

Putting her phone down she sat back up and swung her legs over the edge of her bed, the fluffy comforter shifting beneath her. “When are we going to talk about it?”

“Never.”

“Ror, you gotta talk about it,” she said, sliding to her feet. Padding over to your side she sat on your bed and tucked her feet beneath her. She snatched the syllabus from your hands and tossed it to the floor, the pages unraveling, spreading all over the carpet. Ignoring your protests, she grabbed onto your shoulder. “I am not going to spend the rest of this year pretending that last semester didn’t happen. He hurt you.”

Jolting at her words, you turned your glare to ice. “He did not hurt me.”

She pitied you with her eyes. “He led you on… For months. He did things, and said things to you that-”

“That don’t matter!” The cackle that tumbled from your lips had her tilting her head to the side. “The things he said don’t matter, he didn’t mean them! We can drop it! I get it!”

Tori took her hand away from you and folded it in her lap over her smooth tan legs. Nodding, she pursed her lips and looked at your papers on the floor. “Okay,” she breathed, hopping off your bed to clean up the mess she made. Trying to shuffle the papers into some kind of order, she put them in your outstretched hand and crossed her arms over her middle. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter. We’ll find you somebody else, you at least deserve to get laid, it’ll help with this,” she gestured toward you, “Bitchiness.” The word came out of her in an almost whisper.

Pushing a quiet laugh through your lips, you shook your head. “Don’t worry, I-”

A knock from the window behind you, the only window in the room next to your bed, sent you flying to your feet. Heartbeat skyrocketing into the atmosphere, you grabbed onto Tori and whipped yourself around to face the glass while she laughed.

“Who the fuck!?”

“I told him not to knock,” Tori said, calm as can be.

A silly smile watched you both. Dark hair pushed to the side and an earring dangling from one ear, the black, form fitting t-shirt he wore clung to his chest, the silver chain around his neck just meeting the collar. Beautiful honey skin and deep, big brown eyes full of pure, innocent joy.

Mingi.

Turning your chin up to look at Tori who was grinning like a sap, you smacked her arm and pulled her out of her daydream. “What the hell is he doing here?” Shushing you, Tori wiggled herself out of your grasp and leapt onto your bed on her knees. “How the hell did he get up here?!” Shushing you again, Tori maneuvered the window open and crawled out onto the rooftop. “What the hell is going on!” Now it was Tori and Mingi who shushed you.

“Come here,” Tori said, waving you toward her. Looking at your bedroom door, you took a breath and rushed toward it to click the lock into place.

“This is so stupid,” you muttered, climbing onto your bed and out onto the roof of the porch below. Tori and Mingi were sitting closer to the edge. It wasn’t too steep, if anything it was pretty flat, but the ledge was still intimidating. Using your hands and feet you brought yourself closer and stopped beside Tori. “Can someone tell me what is going on?”

“Hi, Rora,” Mingi said to you with a smile, leaning in front of Tori to tap a fist to your arm. His deep, lively voice typically captivated you, but close to the edge of the roof like this you didn’t have much energy to appreciate it.

“Hey, Mingi,” you sighed, digging your fingernails into the shingles underneath you. Tori had her fingers on Mingi’s jewelry, toying with it, not caring she had her feet hanging off the edge of a rooftop.

“These new rules of yours are interesting,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Yeji seems like she’s so much fun.”

“Oh, the funnest,” you half laughed, keeping your body still. “Is that why we’re on the roof right now?”

“Yeah,” Mingi gave you a lazy smile, then answered to Tori who whispered something unintelligible to him. He put a hand on her cheek and nodded his head, his brows furrowing low as he reassured her. Looking back to you, he said, “We wanted to see for ourselves if it was true.” He laid his head over Tori’s and smiled. “Sometimes this one’ll make shit up and I can’t tell if she’s for real or not.”

“Hey!” Your roommate nudged his head away and tapped his solid chest. Mingi looked down at her and laughed, leaning in to press kisses to her cheek. They really were the cutest, both able to match each other in energy and wit. They fit together, they always have. They made sense.

Gulping, glancing away around at the ground, your eyes scanned the green grass. “We?” you asked, feeling your confidence take a slight nosedive. 

Where there was Mingi, there was a-

“Hey!”

Startling both you and Tori, fluffy, dusty brown hair and glasses popped up underneath the edge of the roof. The most endearing sideways smile accompanied his bright eyes.

Where there was a Mingi, there was a Yunho.

Tori, ecstatic, reached a hand out to mess with his hair. “Yo! I didn’t know you were coming with him.”

Whipping your head, your glare made her giggle. “You knew they were coming?” you sneered through your teeth.

“I knew Mingi was coming,” she said, biting down on her bottom lip as she nuzzled her head under his strong chin.

“Wonderful,” you whispered, turning your focus back to the boy hanging off the roof. Behind his glasses he studied you. His eyes were as dark as Mingi’s, but not as dark as Wooyoung’s. Yunho’s had life, stories to tell, and they were sweeter than chocolate.

“Hi, Rory,” he said quietly, adjusting himself so that his broad shoulders were in sight. Wearing a t-shirt himself, it didn’t quite cling to him like Mingi’s, but it still definitely caught your eye.

“Hi, Yunho,” you breathed, ignoring the smirk that started to grow on his lips courtesy of your wandering gaze. Narrowing your eyes just slightly, he wiped the smug look in an instant. “What are you doing on my roof?”

“Came to say hi,” he said, elbows spreading out to the side to keep his balance. By now Tori and Mingi were lost in their own little kisses and whispers to care what you and Yunho were discussing.

“Cute.” You tilted your head and held eye contact with him for another few seconds until you had to break away. He was intense. A certified genius with a mind so deep you’d need centuries to figure him out. He was on a different level of the world, he always was, and he always has been, ever since you met him. 

Almost like Mina.

Pure, sweet, kindhearted Mina.

“We were talking about you today,” you said and laughed internally as his expression wilded out. “Me and my girls.” He wore his wide eyes with pride, the expression never changing until you said, “With Mina.” Then, he shifted into a display of softness, like the mention of her name cured everything wrong within him.

“How is she?” he asked, his melodic voice as gentle as the lashes that brushed his skin.

Sliding your hands over your ankles you held his focus and nodded. “She’s great,” you whispered, and he released a breath. “She’s disappointed with the new rule, of course, she can’t see you anymore.” Yunho clenched his jaw. “We heard about your amazing summer, Yo, you’re a proper gentleman, you know that?” 

“Oh my god!” Tori exclaimed, reaching a hand over to grab onto one of Yunho’s wrists. The wide eyed boy snapped his neck to look at her, escaping your scrutiny. “You’re the cutest, ever! Spending time with Mina’s family? Treating her so good? Yo, you win. This year, at least.” Tori, with a gasp, whirled back to her boyfriend. “We have to do the Sweethearts Formal. It’s official.”

Mingi smiled, brushing a few fingers over Tori’s hair. “Whatever you want, babe, you tell me what to do.”

“We’ll do it after recruitment,” Tori spoke with her hands, gesturing toward every single one of you at some point, “That way we’ll have more guests, but we can open it up to the entire campus.” Mingi’s eyes lit up watching her speak. “Pay an entry fee, experience Greek life for a night, and we’ll make it spectacular, then they’ll be interested and want to join.”

Mingi threw an arm around her back and pulled her close, pressing a hefty kiss to her lips. “My girl’s a genius,” he sighed when they parted, sending a glance over her shoulder toward you and Yunho. He lingered on his friend for a few seconds longer.

“We’ll have ITZ and ATZ there,” Tori said. “Everyone has to have a date.” Grazing Mingi’s chin with her thumb she smized. “You are mine,” she glanced behind her, “Yo can bring Mina.” Then, she faced you. “We’ll find you a date,” she bobbed her head. “Don’t worry.”

Squinting at her, you mumbled, “I wasn’t worried,” and Yunho huffed a laugh.

Tori turned to Mingi, their noses nearly touching. “What about Seonghwa, isn’t he available?”

Yunho cleared his throat. “He met someone at the end of last semester, pretty sure he’s taken.”

“And I’d love to not be in cahoots with the Vice President,” you said.

Tori frowned. Mingi eyed his friend. “Damn, okay, well what about Yeosang?”

“I dunno if he’ll be into it,” Yunho curled his lip and Tori sighed audibly.

“You’re not making this easy, Yo,” she said. “We may as well just pair you with Wooyoung, Ror.”

You met Yunho’s eyes in a flash, the two of you looking away from one another just as fast. “No thanks,” you said. 

Tori pouted, her bottom lip poking out. Lifting a hand she messed with your hair and said, “We’ll figure something out.”

The air went quiet. A sickness started to settle into your gut. With the happy couple beside you and Yunho in front of you, nothing about right now would make it go away.

“I need some water,” you mumbled, using your hands and your feet to scoot backward toward your open window. All three of your friends followed you with their gazes, two heads turning while another watched with the tiniest frown.

“Will you come back?” Tori asked, hope written on her face.

Swinging your legs into the window, feet planted on your blankets, you shook your head. “Nah, I have to get ready for bed.”

“Okay,” Tori smiled.

“Night, Rora,” Mingi said, giving you one of his infamous silly grins. With a wave toward him you smiled, then glanced at Yunho. You didn’t want to decipher what he was telling you with the worry in his brows.

You slipped onto your bed without a second thought and hopped to the floor, hurrying for the door without a look back.

Shutting it with ease so as to not wake the entire house, your bare feet took you down the grand staircase into the dimly lit first floor. Eerie at night, the usual creaks didn’t spook you, your mind was too occupied with thoughts of the boy dangling off your roof. 

The nice boy, the good boy, Yunho.

The one you’ve been close with since you joined ITZ and he was being recruited into ATZ. Freshman year you had one class together, a mandatory Literature class he blew through with shining colors and outstanding marks. You’d meet up to do homework, to share notes, to practice readings with one another. Yunho quickly became a close friend, and Greek life only brought you closer.

He’s a genuine person, he always kept his word, sometimes annoyingly so. At parties he’d be the one to stay sober, or the one to only drink a little to help keep the peace. He was ATZ’s Secretary, it was his duty.

But, when Hongjoong, their president, told him he could let go and enjoy himself on certain nights, boy did he let go and enjoy himself.

Turning the corner at the bottom of the stairs you tiptoed toward the kitchen, surprised to find the light above the sink on. Every other light was out, and Mina was sitting on the edge of the island counter. You thanked your lucky stars that your bedroom was on the other side of the house, otherwise she’d have seen the boys sneaking up.

Her back was to you. Wearing silky pink pajamas, a tank and shorts, she sat with perfect posture and a little bowl of ice cream at her side. The slight wave in her short hair told you she had washed it, letting it air dry in place. Imperfectly.

It almost felt wrong to see her in such a state. But, that wasn’t why your stomach churned.

“Hey, Mina,” you said gently, hoping not to scare her. Turning the slightest bit, her bare face gave you a smile. She was so naturally beautiful. “Don’t mean to intrude.” Rounding the island made of old, green chipped painted wood and marble tops, she took a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and slid you the bowl.

“Have some,” she said, taking her fingers to the hem of her shorts. The ballerina painted tips caught your eye. Every detail so put together, so meticulous and strategic, but in the purest way possible.

Looking down at the white ceramic full of a scoop of vanilla ice cream, you breathed a laugh. Sensing your hesitancy, Mina took the end of the spoon and put a bit of the desert on it, holding it up to feed it to you. She moved with intent, always. A type of sincerity you’ve yet to experience until you met her.

“My mom would share a scoop of ice cream with me and my brothers before bed almost every single night,” she said. With that, you took the spoon and let the sweet vanilla kiss your tongue. “It was our thing, the five of us.” You listened to her talk, admiring how comfortable she felt to be able to share these family things with you. “My dad, he would be so funny,” her small laugh made you smile, “He’d act surprised every time, like he wasn’t catching us doing it every night.”

Giving her the spoon, she took it and made herself a scoop, popping it between her lips without care that you’d just eaten from it.

“Do you do this every night?” you asked, propping your chin in your hand. Mina licked her lips that always seemed to rest in a smile, and nodded.

“You’re the first to catch me,” she said, moving her foot to tap your thigh with her toes. Sharing in a quiet laugh with her, you took the spoon as she handed it to you. “Have some more, it feels weird to eat it alone.”

“Okay,” you whispered, taking a spoonful, “But only ‘cause you said so.” Mina folded her hands and her feet together, letting them swing off the edge, her legs polished and smooth like the rest of her. After a bite you looked up at her and asked, “Do you miss them? Your family?”

She thought to herself for a moment and shifted her focus to her manicure. “When I’m here I do.” Looking at you, she blinked a few times. “That’s why I wanted to join a sorority. When you live in a house barely big enough for all of the people inside of it, moving to a giant campus where you know nobody is scary.”

“Valid,” you whispered, giving her the spoon so she could take her turn.

“It was the six of us, always,” she continued, scooping away at the ice cream. “With the occasional Uncle, or my older brothers’ dad, or their cousins… The house was always… full. I loved it. Me and Wonwoo, you know, even though these people weren’t our blood relatives, we loved them. They were family.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I think I was looking for that when I joined here. To live under one roof with you girls. I didn’t get to grow up with sisters. It’s nice to have so many of you around.”

Putting the spoon down, unsure of who’s turn it was, you gave her a look and half a smile. “I love your life,” you said, and a lump began to form in your throat. “You’re… real.” Mina, flustered, looked down at the floor. “I’m serious,” you giggled. “Most of these girls here come from money, or they’ve got fans on Instagram, and some only care about scamming their way to the top and being the best… But, you’re here ‘cause you want to do better for yourself.”

Mina adjusted her posture. “I do,” she whispered. “My dad went here, he graduated from here. I want to do what he did, I want to be what he is.”

“He sounds like a good man,” you said ever so quietly and her face lit up.

“He’s incredible,” she whispered. Taking her hand to her lips, she held back a laugh.

“What?” you questioned, smiling with her.

Shaking her head she let the giggle loose. “You don’t wanna know what I thought of… What I have been thinking of.”

With that sort of laugh, you knew exactly what she was thinking of.

“Tell me,” you tried to maintain your smile. 

Pressing her lips together, her giddy grin had an innocent, childlike feel to it. A school girl with a crush. 

“He reminds me of him, a little,” she said, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her silky shorts once more. “Yunho,” she whispered, nodding. “And I know it could be weird to say he reminds me of my dad, but I think… I think every girl looks for that, doesn’t she?”

Taking in what she’s said, you hummed, then gave your shoulders a shake. “I’m my dads only daughter. His only child. I’m pretty sure he wanted me to be a boy, and it’s shown my entire life.” Mina pouted. “Oh, no, I don’t want sympathy. Please, don’t.” Grabbing onto the spoon you messed with the melted ice cream in the bowl, eyes focused on it. 

“Okay,” Mina said. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

You huffed a laugh, letting go of the spoon, the rattling of the ceramic sending a jolt down both your spines. “You come from a family that does that, talks about it. I don’t.” Meeting her eyes, you longed to shy away from this conversation. “I’ll be okay.”

She nodded, averting her gaze elsewhere. It was quiet for a few seconds, then she asked, “Can I ask you something?”

Taking a deep breath, you let it out more harshly than anticipated. “Of course,” you said. Maybe talking about your family would be easy with Mina. Dissecting your childhood or the way you were raised was reserved for therapy, somewhere you hadn’t been since high school. You weren’t a fan, you had no intentions of going back. Mina made it seem easy though, it could be possible this was all you needed. A listening ear. She was nice enough.

“You were with Yunho at the party last night,” she said, sending your entire nervous system into fight or flight. Maintaining face, praying to God you didn’t react, you simply bobbed your head in answer.

You were with Yunho at the party last night. Yunho was the first person you attached yourself to last night. Yunho was the only one looking for you last night. Yunho was the one you stepped outside with last night, because the noise was nauseating, Wooyoung pissed you off, and you had too much on your mind.

“I didn’t want to ask earlier because everyone was around, and I’m not sure I need them all to know my business right now, especially when this Yunho thing is still… up in the air,” she babbled on and on. “It’s just that… We had such an amazing summer.”

You had a somewhat amazing summer, too.

“We went on so many dates, he took me everywhere I wanted to go,” she sighed between thoughts. “He had a great time with my family, my brothers, he understood us, how we were. He… kissed me.” Your heart skipped a beat. She blushed when she looked at you, and you wanted to crawl into a hole. “He didn’t push me farther than I wanted to go. He was respectful.”

Breath was caught in your throat.

“I thought it was too good to be true,” she laughed, kicking her feet. “You know frat boys, the stereotype they’re forced into. Sleazy, sneaky… Not him. Not Yunho.”

Yes, him.

Yes, Yunho.

She still had a question to ask you.

“Then, what’s up?” Trying your utmost hardest to keep your voice from shaking, you smiled at her when she looked over at you.

“He hasn’t… reached out,” she said. “Since we were preparing to come back, and since we’ve been back… I’ve barely heard from him.” Her brown eyes were shining in the single overhead light. “I guess I just wanted to ask you if he was okay? In the video’s… I saw you with him, so I just wanted to see if you knew anything.”

Swallowing hard, you gave her a shrug of your shoulders, feeling the walls of the kitchen tighten around the two of you. “I don’t… I dunno. He seemed okay to me. I’m sorry, Mina.”

She looked at the floor. “It’s okay,” she said. “Just figured I’d ask.”

“Give him time,” you said quickly, sliding out a hand to touch her wrist. “Maybe coming back has just been a lot, they’re going through the same stuff we are. We need recruitment to go well, for everybody.”

With the smallest smile Mina glanced at you. “You’re right. Thank you.”

And as the nerves roiled in your belly, you released her wrist and gave her your best smile. “Anytime.”

NU home ✧ nice for what masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[kaibutsushidousha]

Danganronpa has too many characters so I'll be tackling the "How'd you render their names in Ace Attorney style of name translation" question one game at a time. Here's for DR1.

Please send different ideas if you have them.

Makoto Naegi

Calqued meaning for Naegi: Sapling

Calqued meaning for Makoto: Honesty

Explicit functionality: In Ishimaru's introduction, he praises the meaning of Naegi's given name, so it must explicitly represent a virtue Ishimaru believes in.

Implicit functionality for Naegi: The meaning of Naegi contributes to giving off the image that he's Small Guy Little the Most Harmless Creature In The World. Also ties in with Makoto's and Komaru's image colors being green and brown.

Implicit functionality for Makoto: Truth-adjacent name because he's an investigative VN protagonist.

Realism level: Both names exist.

Futureproofing needs: Naegi is a surname he shares with Komaru, so it needs to be a name that also works for her. Swapping name and surname to get something more usable is often an option but not here. Whatever Naegi becomes needs to still be the surname because of Komaru.

Explicit functionality is always the priority, so Makoto needs to become something like Ernest or Truman. Truman is a name that feels like it needs to be saved for V3, but at first glance, there isn't anyone there who really fits it.

Bush is a real name that connects the small and the green, but it doesn't give off a tone of harmlessness thanks to a few Georges. Stuart Little has me under the impression that Little is also a real surname but it's missing the green aspect. Green is another real name with the opposite problem.

Out of all our options, I'd go with Truman Green for our protagonist, mainly because Green sounds convenient for Komaru's naming needs. I won't settle on a name for Komaru ahead of DRAE's turn because this sounds like a bonus challenge more difficult than any of the mandatory tasks, but at least I'm confident I won't need to come back and change this one later.

Sayaka Maizono

Calqued meaning for Maizono: Dance Garden

Calqued meaning for Sayaka: Not determinable because Sayaka doesn't have kanji but Sayaka generally means dazzling, clear, or audible and her DR2 swordsmanship scroll present spells her name with kanji meaning "Scabbard Flower".

Explicit functionality: A sword-themed present in DR2 is named after her.

Implicit functionality for Maizono: A dance garden sounds like a metaphorical name for a stage.

Implicit functionality for Sayaka: An intriguing mix of direct meanings and ironies. Dazzling alludes to the classic metaphor of idols as shining stars, clear is ironic with how she hides her feelings most of the time, and audible is both. Direct in how Japan is listening to her songs and ironic in how she became an idol because her father wouldn't give her any attention.

Realism level: Fictional but so believable that another game already used this exact name 12 years before Danganronpa did (that's what DR2's sword scroll is referencing)

This is a rare case where we can ignore the explicit functionality if we want to. Claire is a popular given name that conveniently covers all meanings of Sayaka, makes a musical reference through Claire de Lune (another case of a name that would hit differently in V3 but doesn't fit anyone in its cast), and could be used in a sword flash allusion. Dance is a real English surname but it feels too untouched, so I'd Frenchify it into Danse, matching with the French origins of Claire. Claire Danse it is.

Leon Kuwata

Calqued meaning for Kuwata: Mulberry fields

Calqued meaning for Reon/Leon: Clever Gratitude

Explicit functionality for Kuwata: He says in a Free Time Event that he wants to be like the star vocalist Kuwata Keisuke and not like the baseball star Kuwata Masumi.

Explicit functionality for Leon: Needs to be mistaken with numbers when written upside-down, preferably in a foreign alphabet.

Implicit functionalities: Honestly, none. Both names are very in-your-face about why they were chosen.

Realism level: Leon written in kanji is a name that exists nowadays but I can't find evidence that it predates Danganronpa.

The Kuwatas quote can be done with Axl Rose and Pete Rose.

A lazy solution to Leon is keeping it as Leon and helping the puzzle's difficulty level by making Claire Danse's calligraphy suck. There's no authentic way to redo that puzzle, but the closest option is having her write Greek. It's an alphabet recognizable enough to a Western audience even nowhere nearly as recognizable as the Roman alphabet is to a post-Americanization Japanese audience.

Our Greek alphabet tools are 1=I or ι =I or i, 2=ζ=z, 3=ξ=x, 3=Ε or ε=E or e, 4=η=h or e or i, 4=Π or π=P or p, 6=an ugly φ=f, 8=an ugly Θ or θ=th, 0=Ο or ο=O or o, and 0=σ=s. That gives us genuinely subtle and believable options like Fox spelled 306 or Seth spelled 038.

Seth makes for the better puzzle, but going on vibes and the believability level of a Japanese Leon, I'll go with Fox Rose.

Chihiro Fujisaki

Calqued meaning for Fujisaki: Blossom of False Binarism

Calqued meaning for Chihiro: Thousand Depths (poetic term for "1.8288 kilometers")

Explicit functionality: Gender-neutral name.

Implicit functionality for Fujisaki: The unique kanji choice for the name is probably there for the computer theme since TRUE/FALSE responses and binary codes are popular programming motifs.

Definitely accidental functionality for Fujisaki: The Japanese word for nonbinary has nothing to do with this, but it's curiously serendipitous that Fujisaki has a negative binary in his name. A strong irony since a huge part of his personal tragedy happened because his gender views were extremely binary.

Probably accidental functionality for Chihiro: Chihiro was originally a male name but became more commonly perceived as a feminine name since the release of the film Spirited Away. Assuming Danganronpa 1 is set in 2012, Fujisaki would be 8 years old when the movie came out, and that could be what inspired his idea in-universe.

Realism level: Fujisaki is a real name when written with kanji meaning "Cape of Wisterias". The "False Dualities" version is Danganronpa-original. Chihiro is a common name, however.

Futureproofing needs: Chiaki is named after him, so it's better to make the decision for Chiaki now. Chihiro means "thousand depths" as a poetic unit of distance and Chiaki means "thousand autumns" as a poetic unit of time. The space and time duality is not relevant to their characters (it's a false binarism, if you will) so it's only important here that they have subtly contrasting names.

Chihiro is hard to narrow down because any unisex name technically fits. Cody is a unisex name that covers Fujisaki's computer motifs, so that would allow the surname to be entirely dedicated to matching Nanami's but that would just shift the "can't narrow it down" problem to the surname.

Wikipedia's page for unisex names has this nifty list of names grouped by theme, so we can pick Chihiro and Chiaki as a pair of unisex names from the same group. I can't explain why, but having them both named after months, birds, or Kingdom Hearts feels right.

Month route: I'll go with August for Chihiro since that works best with Chihiro's masculine origins. Chiaki could be October to nod to the autumn meaning of her original name but that's not really relevant and October is really ugly as a person's name. May works for her because aside from being a month, it's a word associated with potential.

Bird route: Phoenix works for Chihiro because Alter-Ego is sorta like a revival. Phoenix is also a funny nod to how Chihiro is Mia Fey's name. Chiaki since the name Nanami reflects the tropicality of Jabberwock Island, she should have a tropical bird name and Starling is the only tropical bird name that doesn't suck as a human name as far as I can remember.

Kingdom Hearts route: The Nanami name kinda dictates that Chiaki becomes Kairi here, which works for me, but I'm not feeling any of the Chihiro options. I'm not calling him Marluxia.

Pheonix Pewter feels like the best option, stealing an idea for a computer-themed name from Uchikoshi, but going with the bird route locks me out of using bird names for anyone other than Fujisaki and Nanami. That's a huge resource to lose. I gotta think about the name economy to continue this project long term. On the other hand, losing access to month names for everyone else is not a considerable loss. I'll stick with August Pewter for now but I might come back to this one later.

Touko Fukawa

Calqued meaning for Fukawa: Rotten River

Calqued meaning for Touko: Winter Girl

Calqued meaning for Shou: Fly

Explicit functionality for Shou: The investigators gave a generic male name to the serial killer because they hadn't figured out she's a girl.

Explicit functionality for Fukawa: Shou makes a pun with the name Fukawa since she's fujoshi (lit. "rotten girl").

Implicitly functionalities: None that I can think of. I guess Touko is not a sunny name so it doesn't clash with her gloomy vibe.

Most likely accidental functionality for Touko: The name Touko means "Winter Girl" and the name Fuyuhiko means "Winter Boy" but they have any onscreen interactions or major parallels.

Realism level: Fukawa exists with different kanji (more commonly meaning "deep river") but the Rotten River version is made up. Derogatory words don't tend go in real surnames. Touko is a super common name for girls born in the winter.

I'll start with the obvious. Genocide Jack does everything that needs to be with Geno's name. The loc also invents "Jill" because she's a girl but I'll ignore that and keep our Jack as comfortable with her ostensibly masculine name as she is in the original. Now let’s go to what needs the bare minimum of original thought.

Touko can stay as Winter, but I'd prefer using winter in another language just to be less lazy about it. Zima is winter in most Slavic languages and is a real surname. We can work with this if we make our first swap here. Derive the family name from the name Touko and the given name from Fukawa.

So we need a given name that works with the fujoshi pun, which came to me surprisingly easy. Blair -> BL-er. The Blair Witch Project being a big and influential thing also helps putting the necessary gloomy vibes to Blair Zima's name.

Byakuya Togami

Calqued meaning for Togami: Ten Gods

Calqued meaning for Byakuya: White night (as in the astronomical term)

Explicit functionalities: None as far as I remember.

Implicit functionalities: Sounding fucking awesome.

Realism level: Both extremely rare names that technically exist.

This is honestly a little too anything goes, which makes it more difficult than having tight specifications to work with. I'll tentatively go with Artorius Decatheo. Artorius is tryhard version of Arthur, so there's the kingly image association, and shares its word root with Arctic, making a nod the place where the midnight sun (byakuya) happens. Decatheo is just Ten Gods in Greek.

Mondo Oowada

Calqued meaning for Oowada: Fields of Yamato

Calqued meaning for Mondo: Crest Earth

Calqued meaning for Daiya: Big A (as in the letter A from Roman alphabet)

Explicit functionality for Daiya and Mondo: Daiya's gang was named Crazy Diamond after Daiya (Dia) and Mondo (Mond).

Intertextuality for Daiya and Mondo: Their gang name alludes to Crazy Diamond, the Stand of Josuke Higashikata, a character who emulates Japanese delinquent aesthetics in homage to a stranger who saved his life.

Implicit functionality for Oowada: Bousouzoku were a particularly ultranationalistic subculture and having surname containing Japan's "most Japanese" name is probably supposed to reflect that.

Implicit functionality for Daiya and Mondo: A big stereotype about Japanese delinquents from the 90s and 2000s is that they later had kids with ridiculous names often formed by slapping rare kanji together to forcibly form an English word with it. Daiya and Mondo are key examples of these tacky and stupid "son of ex-delinquents" name.

Realism level: Oowada is not a too uncommon surname. Daiya and Mondo really sound made up but Kodaka says he studied with real people named that.

Ok, this one is extremely Japanese both in content and structure. There are too many factors to reasonably really on easy equivalence strategies, we have to play bold. I can exploit the delinquent trend of forcing English names into Japanese and flip it to represent another subculture, albeit a much younger and still developing one. I'm talking about punk weebs. We solve the Jojo reference issue by directly naming Daiya "Jotaro" and Mondo "Josuke".

Special thanks to the punk guy in my city with the baby named Sasuke. You help me here in a manner very fittingly similar to how the brothers Daiya and Mondo from Kodaka's school helped him.

Now for Oowada I don't have a neat solution. American biker gangs had the same origins as their Japanese counterpart (WWII veterans failing to properly reintegrate post-war) and the consequences of that to the subculture (macho patriotism) were the same. But American bikers love using hell and crime as motifs in their names and aesthetics, and somehow Hellman is a real and common surname, so I suppose Josuke Hellman fits. I'm waiting for better ideas in the comments.

The gang name can stay Crazy Diamond in theory, but I think I'd prefer renaming it to Shining Diamond as jokeful nod to Jojo's silly localization practices. I also considered renaming it to Star Platinum since Daiya is Jotaro Hellman now, but I think keeping the name Crazy Diamond-derived is a better fit with how Daiya created the gang for Mondo's sake. (And, on a meta level, with how Mondo/Josuke is the main character among the two)

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

Calqued meaning for Ishimaru: The Stone

Calqued meaning for Kiyotaka: Many Summers Purified

Explicit functionality: None unless you count the Ishida thing.

Implicit functionality for Ishimaru: The Stone carries an idea of solidity and rigidness, which is reflected in Ishimaru's personality.

Implicit functionality for Kiyotaka: Pure vibes, but I think the names Kiyotaka, Toranosuke, and to a lesser extent Takaaki, are all names you can tell come from a traditional family.

Implicit functionality for Ishida: Both Oowada and Ishimaru are decently uncommon names, but when they combine, they form the ridiculously common name Ishida and that's the kind of name joke Kodaka likes a lot.

Realism level: See above for the surname and fusion name. Kiyotaka is a name that exists with different kanji but the version meaning "Many Summers Purified" is unique to Danganronpa.

Starting from the disclaimer: I will not be using the meaning of Ishimaru's name as an excuse to call him Dwayne or Johnson. It's tempting but I promise to restrain myself.

Anyway, the parts using his real names are pretty loose, so we start from Ishida joke as the best place to narrow things down. Oowada being Hellman could have easily segued into a generic surname ending in -man, but in English, it's a lot more natural for people to introduce themselves by their given names, hence why Ishida became Kiyondo into the loc, so I'll work with their first names too.

We're obviously out of options for a notoriously generic English name ending in -suke, so we'll have to take the Jo- from Josuke (Mondo). Since I have Jojo in the brain right now thanks to Mondo, the easiest solution is merge this Jo into Kiyotaka=Nathan to form Jonathan. It works pretty neatly.

The surname doesn't matter as much so I'll take the lazy route on this one. Stone is a real English surname, so The Stone will be Stone. Nathan Stone, that's our guy.

Hifumi Yamada

Calqued meaning for Yamada: Mountain Fields

Calqued meaning for Hifumi: One Two Three

Explicit functionalities: None as far as I remember.

Implicit functionality for Yamada: Satou, Tanaka, and Yamada are the most common Japanese surnames (with I believe Yamada being at the first place at the time of DR1's release), so they're often used in fiction for jokes about names being generic, like how English does with Smith and Doe. Hifumi Yamada's case is about Kodaka liking to pair the goofiest first names with the most generic surnames.

Implicit functionality for Hifumi: His pen name as a doujin author is The Alpha and the Omega, which reflects his name being the first 3 numbers and his birthday being the last day of the year (which is also written using the numbers one, two, and three, but let's not make this harder than it needs to be).

Realism level: 100% the name here with the biggest chance of existing.

Alph Smith is the obvious perfect pick but it feels too easy and too on-your-face. I'd rather go with Uno Smith, that's a real name apparently.

Celestia Ludenberg

Calqued meaning for Yasuhiro: Cheap and Widespread

Calqued meaning for Taeko: Girl of Many Blessings

Explicit functionality for Celestia Ludenberg: Racefaking as white European so poorly that any random shmuck instantly recognizes her name as borderline parodical.

Explicit functionality for Yasuhiro: Her family name is homophonous with Hagakure's given name.

Implicit functionality for Yasuhiro: Cheap and Widespread represents the featureless normie she originally was and the total antithesis of who she wants to be.

Implicit functionality for Taeko: It alludes to how she describes her luck as the active crux of her talent, which ties into [long ramble about her parallels with Makoto].

Realism level: Celestia Ludenberg is a joke of a name even for in-universe standards. Taeko Yasuhiro is perfectly believable, if a bit uncommon.

Celestia Ludenberg is perfectly fine as it is. Grace and Hannah are names meaning something close enough to the "blessings" in Taeko. I'd favor Hannah because Kodaka went out his way to pick the rarer name Taeko over the common Megumi which would have had the same implicit functionality.

Now Yasuhiro needs to be both a surname and a male given name. Luckily, English is a language full of those. As you see below, the meanings of Hagakure's name don't matter that much, so I want prioritize "cheap and widespread" as the core idea of their shared name. This immediately brings me to the names Norman and Jean-Eric, but neither of them works as surnames or fit Hagakure's vibes. Meanwhile, Mondaine looks too French for its purpose being contrary to Celes's ideals and maybe doesn't work as a given name.

Cutting a lot of unproductive thought short, trying to look at things primarily from the "cheap and widespread" angle gave me nothing, but giving more consideration to the meaning and realism level of Hagakure's name, I found a satisfactory answer. I'll explain my logic better on Hagakure's side, but my adaptation of Taeko Yasuhiro is Hannah Arcadian. Arcadism is about romanticizing the farm life of humble peasants, so it fits well as the antithesis to her Celes identity built upon romantization of the castle life of opulent nobles.

Yasuhiro Hagakure

Calqued meaning for Hagakure: Concealed by Leaves (more notably, this is the title of a 1716 book historically considered the most influential manual on the samurai lifestyle)

Calqued meaning for Yasuhiro: Tranquility Comparable to the Lü Musical Scale (the equivalent to this in Western music notation is the Myxolidian scale)

Explicit functionality for Yasuhiro: His given name is homophonous with Taeko's family name.

Implicit functionalities: Both of his names leave a strong impression. Motifs very specific to Japanese history, delivered with distinct and powerful vibes of antiquity. Yasuhiro Hagakure is a name that suggests deep roots. I have a good post about how roots relate to Hagakure's and Celes' characters, you should check it.

Realism level: lol, lmao even. Hagakure is not a real family name. Yasuhiro is a very common given name with dozens of versions, but Hagakure's version makes a point to use the most ancient kanji it can fit, genuinely Heian poetry stuff, creating a version of Yasuhiro that doesn't exist in real life.

Well, I already told you about Arcadian. It's a name that fits in the "tranquility" meaning of Yasuhiro, and the name's overall appeal to classic literature associations to the point of unrealism. It doesn't tie too greatly with his character, but neither does the Japanese original. I'm pretty sure this name was chosen for Celes first and then just randomly slapped appropriate 10th century kanji.

That said, Yasuhiro Hagakure manages to have the most distinctively Japanese name in the series that has a guy named Korekiyo in it, so I think it would be appropriate for his Americanized counterpart to still have one (1) Japanese name. I considering picking a notable family name from the Heian period, maybe Abe or Minamoto, perhaps even Tsuchimikado in reference to Tsuchimikado Yasuhiro, but ultimately I decided to go with Arcadian Emishi to value Hagakure's identity as a hairy man of Touhoku.

Sakura Oogami

Calqued meaning for Oogami: Great God

Calqued meaning for Sakura: Not determinable because Sakura doesn't have kanji but Sakura generally means cherry tree or cherry blossom.

Explicit functionality: People familiar with her martial artist carreer are more likely to know her by the nickname Ogre, derived from the Ooga part of her real name.

Implicit functionality for Oogami: Sounding fucking awesome.

Implicit functionality for Sakura: Cherry blossoms are the flowers most commonly associated with refined femininity in Japanese flower language and that's a really important part of Sakura's identity. The use of hiragana instead of kanji also adds to the image of traditional femininity.

Realism level: Sakura is an extremely common name. Oogami is one of Japan's oldest surnames, tied to an ancient clans of priests and sorceres dedicated to worship of Ookuninushi, but the surname is rare nowadays because most of the clan changed their surname to Miwa in 648. Even then, I'd be surprised if no real person was ever named Sakura Oogami.

This was easier than I thought. Mary naturally comes an answer for Sakura's equivalent to the idea of "most common and tradiotinally feminine name ever". The Oogami/Ogre wordplay was a bit more of challenge. I really wanted to work Ogre in English too, but I still don't have any ideas. I know the Yugioh Vrains dub used the anagram Gore for its ogre-themed character, but I think this lacks the solemnty Oogami has.

Luckily, one of the ogre's closest equivalents is the orc, a creature with a name that easily strecthes into Orcus, the name of the Roman god of oaths. Orcus is also syncretized with Hades, which is a god that really fits with Sakura's sense of responsibility and characterization based on being less scary than she superficially looks, aside from being a lord of the underworld like the Ookuninushi historically tied with the Oogami name. I'm very satisfied with Mary "Orc" Orcus.

Aoi Asahina

Calqued meaning for Asahina: Morning sun? (Note: the question mark is actually part of the meaning, not an indication that I'm unsure about the translation)

Calqued meaning for Aoi: Hollyhock

Explicit functionality: None as far as I remember.

Implicit functionality for Asahina: The morning sun as a symbol of cheerfulness.

Implicit functionality for Aoi: Her name is homophonous with the color blue, associated with water, and consequently her talent as a swimmer.

Realism level: Both names are common enough that this exact combination has a higher chance of existing in the real world than not. One thing completely irrelevant to Aoi's character but cool enough for me to want to tell is that the Asahina family was originally a samurai clan founded by Asahina Yoshihide, and one the main tales about him is that he was so strong that after he died, he almost effortlessly defeated the king of hell in battle and forced him to show the way to paradise.

Ok, I kinda nothing to work with here. I guess I can just throw any combination of brightness-related or water-related names. Sunny Aguado, Aqua Solberg, Joy Fisher, Allegra Blue, Felicia Aquarius, Marina Summers, etc. There's no real element that gives any name option an edge above the rest. I really like Marisol here because it's a name that means "sea and sun" but unfortunately that leaves zero content to make a surname out of.

Aoi Asahina is an alliteration so maybe we can use that to narrow down to options like Aurora Attwater, Ariel Aelius, Mitra Marin, or Lana Luz. My final call will be Sapphire Solano, but there's really hundreds of ways this one can go. I changed the decided answer at least twice during the making of this post.

Mukuro Ikusaba

Calqued meaning for Ikusaba: War Blade

Calqued meaning for Mukuro: Not determinable because Mukuro doesn't have kanji but the word mukuro means corpse. However, if we were to assume the Mu in Mukuro must mean halberd, the most plausible configuration would be "Halberd Black".

Explicit functionality for Mukuro: Combining the Mu from Mukuro and the Jun from Junko, you form Mujun (contradiction).

Implicit functionality for Ikusaba: Tying to her soldier image while having more edge than a military-grade combat knife.

Implicit functionality for Mukuro: "Corpse" accurately describes her in her first appearance after her name is revealed.

Realism level: Zero. The Ikusaba surname is invented by Kodaka, and the name Mukuro comes up in anime sometimes but it's literally illegal to name your kid Corpse.

This is one was surprisingly interesting. Corpse Warblade is iconic and deservedly remained a meme in the fandom for years, so I wish I could keep it as is, but unfortunately it fails the most important functionality. It has to fit with Junko to form a word that can be associated with the mysteries the mystery game wants you to solve.

One of the first decisions I made for this post was to call Junko "Doxie" and look for an appropriate word beginning with Para for Mukuro. Later, when checking Doxie's realism level, I found out it's a rare name nowadays because the name became a word with sexual connotations. Incredibly lucky coincidence, to be honest. I think the meaning of Doxie actually fits Junko surprisingly well as representation of the gyaru subculture in its originating ideas.

But enough of Junko invading her sister's section. The name I chose for Mukuro is Parathion. It's the name of a poison, although not one weaponized against humans. Not great but it's the best the Paradox composition has to offer and I like Doxie too much to look for alternatives.

So, for that, Parathion's last name needs to carry Mukuro's corpse meaning, the tryhard edgelord aesthetic, the soldier imagery, and if possible also fit in the war blade meaning. That's a lot of things for just one name to do. I thought of Bloodshed as a surname that referred to war while doubling as an allusion to how Mukuro's own blood was already shed, but that felt a little obtuse. I ultimately decided to prioritize Mukuro's status as a corpse at the cost of the other aspects, and settled for the name Parathion Bloodless.

Kyouko Kirigiri

Calqued meaning for Kirigiri: Mist Cutter

Calqued meaning for Kyouko: Echo Girl, alternatively Audible Girl

Explicit functionality: None as far as I remember.

Implicit functionality for Kirigiri: Fog is a symbol of mystery so it fits for the detective family to say they sever and end it.

Implicit functionality for Kyouko that's is most likely a stretch but I need something to work with here: Kyouko is a girl who is heard. Whenever she talks, the other characters pay attention and take her words seriously. I can't remember an exception to this from the top of my head.

Silly alliteration: Every kanji in her name starts with a K sound (the g in giri is just a k vocalized with a dakuten).

Realism level: Kirigiri is made up by Kodaka and, as far as I can find, used only by Danganronpa and Genshin Impact to this day. Kyouko is a common name in many kanji configurations, including this one.

For reference, Genshin Impact localization names its Kirigiri sword as Mistsplitter Reforged. Great pick but not too relevant to us since it lacks the alliteration.

I wanted to insist in mist instead of any synonym because of its similar sounds to mystery, but the best name I could get from that was Mistmince, which is significant worse than Fogfeller both in epicness and in sounding like a name. So our alliteration will be on the F.

From this point onwards, we reach almost Asahina levels of "this can take forever and have almost 50 equally correct answers". Our options are every feminine one-syllable name that starts with an F or two-syllable names that both syllables have F. But we have to pick one. Fifer is definitely not a common name, but it has two F syllables and means "piper", which is a sound-related profession and is associated with the Pied Piper of Hamelin, which sorta tied to my stretchy idea of the name Kyouko representing the way she natural leadership, so Fifer Fogfeller it is.

Junko Enoshima

Calqued meaning for Enoshima: Inlet's Island

Calqued meaning for Junko: Shield Girl

Calqued meaning for Otonashi: Without sound (idiomatic expression meaning "lying low")

Calqued meaning for Ryouko: Breezy Girl (if we're working with archaic meanings, can alternatively be Innocent Girl)

Explicit functionality for Junko: The shield (jun) in her name is meant to be part of the word contradiction (mujun), written with the kanji for halberd and shield. Play case 5 of the first Ace Attorney game to know why.

Implicit functionality for Enoshima: Enoshima is a small tourist island in Kanagawa whose main attraction is a giant temple complex dedicated to the worship of goddess Benzaiten, popularly nicknamed Benten. Benzaiten is the goddess of pretty much everything that flows and constantly changes, most notably water, wind, music, words, poetry, knowledge, arts, and beauty.

Implicit functionality for Otonashi: Junko Enoshima sure isn't making any big moves in Danganronpa/Zero.

Implicit functionality for Ryouko: She very much has a breezy personality. No matter how many horrifying situations come her, she'll remain chill enough to drop a hearty and confident "Not my problem".

Implicit functionality for Ryouko if we were taking archaic meanings into consideration (we aren't): Otonashi hasn't done a single bad thing, it was all that weird Junko Enoshima chick she knows nothing about.

Possibly intentional functionality but I'm not sure: The most common configuration of the name Junko is with kanji meaning "Pure Girl", but this Junko's configuration rejects the purity kanji, reflecting the roots of the gyaru subculture as rebellion against Japan's purity culture.

Realism level: Enoshima exists only as the name of a location, not being a real person name. Junko is somewhat common in many kanji configurations (used to be a lot more prevalent around the 60s) but the "Shield Girl" version is unique to Danganronpa. The only non-Danganronpa-related mention of "Shield Girl" Junko I could find online is an early FGO interview where Takeuchi mentions Junko as placeholder name for Mash Kyrielight during development. Otonashi is a dying surname, perhaps much more common in fiction than in real life at this point. Ryouko is pretty normal.

I already covered Doxie in Mukuro's section. Really lucky pick. And the surname for it is just as lucky. This one should theoretically be hard because Benzaiten's domains of eloquence, fluidity, wisdom, and beauty make her a goddess very specific to what compose Junko's character. I don't think there's any Western goddess that covers all bases. The element of constant change, which might be the most important thing, is something I don't think I've seen in any other religion. But somehow Benten is a real English surname so here I miraculously get Doxie Benten as the easiest name in this post. I'm sure that in this hypothetical localization timeline, a lot of people will correctly associate the name Benten with Junko's multiple "transformation" but think the reference is Ben 10.

Now, I'm a huge sucker for dumb and obvious names playing on the word "incognito" and that's the energy I wanted to bring to Otonashi, but I need to do it without laying Zero's twist too obviously. Otonashi is known as the Super High School Level Analyst, so I think I can get away with Bree Cogito, three letters removed from incognito, as her talent can mislead the reader to think Cogito was chosen because it means "think".

[north-noire]

I just had an urge to make my own designs/redesigns on TSE charlie and henry (ofc it's them), so feel free to read my notes/general character designs I had about them! (a little messy, but whatever)

also thought that drawing them with my designs from Hidden Hands AU would be a fun little compare and contrast!! (as my FNAF AU is more game-universe adjacent but still have a few of the novel elements such as Aunt Jen = Jennifer Emily, etc. Tbh I generally treat the FNAF novels and games as NOT the same universes at all, they're completely separate universes in my mind, I feel like it makes the fandom's interpretations a lot more creative/interesting in my opinion since there's really "no canon" universe, I mean we have THREE canons to work with now come on xD)

TSE Character Design notes and my own ramblings below the cut! I mostly just relied on the book descriptions of them and nothing much else other than my own inspiration gathering from 2000s fashion/horror games/media.

TSE charlie character design notes: in the novels' description, TSE charlie had frizzy hair and it was light brown. I found it strange that the graphic novel design overlooked that, so I had to add that in (nothing wrong with charlie's design, I actually quite like TFC Charlie). anyway, my TSE charlie design wears a patchwork denim because I thought it'd give her a little bit more character (and I like the symbolism of patchwork for her - being a person that Henry stitched up together with memories, etc etc. Although I don't like the TSE Charlie = robot twist, it just kinda grew on me) I also wanted her to have a 2000s horror protagonist vibe - although most of the characters I looked at for reference/inspiration had short skirts, so I did a "skirt-like" vibe with her tying TSE henry's flannel to her waist. I like the idea that she kept something of a memento from her father's stuff with her :]

TSE henry notes: his pants are pajamas. man is the ABSOLUTE face of depression. also wanted him to have not seen better days and really look like he's just wallowing in his basement with greying hairs and wrinkles and eyebags and definitely hasn't gone out in weeks, probably a month or so. also thought that glasses would suit him nicely - and I thought him having a long-sleeved flannel and his fit makes him look pretty much from the 2000s/Y2K era. Personally I feel like TSE Henry looked too plain and a problem I had that I had while reading the graphic novel is that they tended to make William and Henry look similar (I straight up thought that one William scene with Elizabeth's memory was Henry. That's how ungodly confused I was) which made it really look uninteresting to me, so I tried my best to make his design describe him a little better.

If you've read this far, thanks so much for reading this! It's just a little fun character design exercise I did and it was really fun having some creative freedom with these two characters!

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Alicent has got it going on (modern!Alicent x younger!Reader)

synopsis: You go out for a night of fun with your friends, but while you are at the bar, the object of your desire is somewhere entirely else.

warnings: age gap (reader is of age), flirting, dirty talk & smut adjacent, afab reader

word count: 2.1k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Even after countless years of being friends with Helaena, to a point where the two of you would call each other sisters, it still feels weird to just walk into the house that your mom had to drive you to almost every day for years when you were a kid. Times had changed. You grew up and so you could make your own way to the villa and enter through the front door with a key that Helaena had gifted you some years back when the two of you entered college.

Upon entering you hear a voice in the living room which, when further investigating, you find out to be Alicent´s. Currently arguing with someone on the phone. Once she sees you, she holds the phone away from her ear and hangs up.

“Oh, I didn´t see you there.” She greets you with a rare, genuine smile.

"Sorry. I didn't realise you were on a call. I just wanted to say hi." You greet your best friend's mother. You have always found Alicent to be absolutely stunning and so you can´t hide a small blush heating up your cheeks as you give her a small wave.

Alicent turns her full attention towards you at the sound of your voice. She knew you had grown up but hadn’t seen you in quite a while. “Hello, dear. How are you?” Her eyebrows raise, awaiting your answer, not even mentioning the call.

“I've been holding up just fine. How about you? Helaena has told me you're working a lot these days." You give the older woman a small smile in return.

"Yes, dear. It's been non-stop, but that´s business." At her words you remember that she had taken over leading the firm in her husband´s stead only a short while ago when Helaena´s father became too sick to continue to do so indefinitely.

Throughout all this time, she doesn´t take her eyes off you for a single second. Those beautiful, big, brown eyes that seemed to shimmer every time you saw her in spite of or maybe because of the stress she was put under. In the end she wasn´t that much older than you. That thought gets your cheeks to burn a little brighter.

“I hope you remember to take breaks too. The company can be glad to finally be led by someone competent, but it would be a shame to see you work yourself into a burnout or something.” You shuffle your feet on the ground, making her even more aware of your painfully awkward attraction towards her.

"I'm sure I'll be fine. I've become quite used to it. Thank you for your concerns though, dear. That is very sweet.” Alicent says confidently, her tone is filled with pride and she takes your hand to let you feel her gratitude for your expression of concern.

The second the older woman´s skin touches yours, has your brain screaming so loud that you are scared anyone would be able to hear. "You know, if you ever do want a break, you should come out to our bar or something. If you don't think going out with your daughter's friend is weird or something. You would be surprised what an evening out can bring about."

The words let not only her eyes widen and eyebrows shoot up for a second, but your own as well.

Suddenly the air in the room is noticeably thicker. You feel like you don´t get enough of it into your lungs, making your head spin like a carousel and the way the older woman’s hand squeezes yours only throws you off the rails even more.

Before you know it, her hand lets go of yours, not giving any time for disappointment to settle, as they instantly settle on your waist, with her thumbs brushing over your ribs just below the swell of your breasts. In response to her pulling you closer, your hands go to tightly hold her by the waste rubbing tight circles into the soft, by lavish silk covered flesh.

Hesitantly your faces moved closer bit by bit. It felt right to be so close to her, to feel her auburn curls brush against your cheeks and make almost a curtain to shut out the rest of the world. Your noses rub against each other from the proximity and little fireworks tingle over your lips. The moment feels so magical.

The horn of Baela´s car being pressed down continuously, to alert approximately the entire neighbourhood and the muffled screams of the young woman to go along with it pull the two of you back to reality against your will.

“I have to go…” You whisper, basking in the energy of the moment a bit longer. Wishing you could stay there with Alicent for even just one more moment. A wish that is reciprocated by her. You are hyper aware of your hands that rest against her waist to keep her perfect body close when Alicent pulls away from you. And though they have never touched to begin with, your lips chase hers for a second and a whimper leaves your lungs.

"You are perfect." You whisper breathlessly when your eyes flutter back open.

Those moments with Alicent stay in your mind's forefront the entire time you sit beside your friends in the cinema. Thinking about the almost kiss rather than paying attention to whatever movie Helaena and Baela had decided on.

The three of you head to a bar afterwards to meet up with a few more friends. Each of you getting enough drinks to ensure everyone was a good bit more than just lightly buzzed. In your inebriated state you remember you still had Alicent´s number saved from something or another a few months ago. So without thinking you reach into your purse to pull out your phone to send the woman a short message. "I can't get you out of my mind. Your hands felt like pure heaven."

Normally you would have spent the time until the device pinged with a response biting at your nails to relief the nervous energy that would course through your system, but it doesn´t happen. The earlier interaction had made you feel quite confident in the attraction being requited. At the same time, back at the Targaryen-Hightower home Alicent smirked at the message as her body began tingling anew. "I miss touching you. Your body is just so irresistible." She replied, leaning back in her chair as she waited for her phone to vibrate again. If anyone would see her right now, they would probably say she looks like a giddy schoolgirl. And you didn´t look much better. Biting your lip to keep yourself from kicking your feet at the warm giddiness that spread through your body with every answer you received from her.

"Gods, I wish I could be with you right this second so I could taste your skin and worship you just the way you deserve." One of your friends that keeps you company while the others go to get more drinks eyes you suspiciously, but luckily says nothing. Counting myself lucky in that I put my phone away and try to concentrate on the conversation at hand, but feeling it vibrate once more pulls your thoughts right back to Alicent. "And what exactly would this worship entail?" Reads the message, making your mind reel and run wild with everything you wanted to do to her.

"It would entail me kissing all over your body and feeling you all over. Tracing your skin with my tongue up your thighs to your most sensitive spot and then I would spend my time between your thighs until your throat would be sore from screaming my name." You can feel your breath become shallow already even though there was no ending to the evening in sight yet and there was no chance to leave early either, but no matter how much you told yourself to calm down it is to no use. The arousal that pools between your legs and sticks your panties to your core at the thought of the older woman won´t let up. It takes longer for another answer to roll in this time, due to Alicent willing her reddened cheeks and racing heart to calm down in order to think clearly again. Only then she finds an appropriate response to type out and send with lightly trembling fingers. “You sure know how to make me feel things, don’t you?”

Despite willing herself to calm down, Alicent's body became flushed. Her breath hitched at the vivid description, and her body became flooded with a rush of pure heat. She couldn’t believe someone could speak so filthy. Her jaw hung open with a dumb expression as she read the message over and over again.

“It´s only what you deserve. You work so hard; you deserve to feel good every once in a while.” You respond almost instantly. Barely making it in time to hide the screen again as Helaena looks over your shoulder.

“The youth and their phones….” She clicks her tongue but breaks out in a giggle not even a few seconds after. “Who has you smiling like this?”

Judging by the redness spread over all over her face she is far more affected by the alcohol than the rest of you. Then again, she always was the one worst at handling her booze. Conveniently this gave you the perfect topic change.

“Maybe you should drink some water before you get another round.” You snicker at her antics.

“I´m fine, mom.” She chanted exaggeratedly, though even the sentiment can´t ruin her mood.

So, you shrug it of and decide that keeping an eye on her would be all you can do. A smart choice, as the night soon gets cut short, by her getting a little too hyper. Leading to Baela dropping you off at the house, before getting herself back to Driftmark. Bless the seven that the Velaryon stayed sober and thus could help you to basically carry her all the way from the car to her room as to not make a major commotion and wake everyone else up. Unfortunately, it is a whole different story to get her to sleep. A seemingly impossible task throughout which you have to remind yourself how much you loved your best friend repeatedly.

Once Helaena is sound asleep naturally you are wide awake. Tossing, turning and scrolling through your phone in a now much more sober state. Then you remember the texts you had sent to Alicent earlier and with your friend fast asleep, you sneak out of her room and down the hall to Alicent's. Opening and closing the door as quietly as possible, you find the woman splayed out in her bed. Clad in a short, dark green satin nightdress and illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window. The cool light makes her look even more gorgeous than the sunlight earlier, though you thought that wasn't possible. Her breasts rise and fall in deep, even breaths. It´s a sight for the gods. On your tiptoes you make your way over to the bed. Feeling the soft mattress dip underneath your weight, as you lean over her unsuspecting form. For a second you doubt what you are about to do, but when the Hightower woman shifts in her unconscious state to expose her neck more and her soft lips part for a sigh to escape, you´re done for.

Your own lips part and your head lowers to press a wet kiss to her neck. Then another and another as Alicent shifts and writhes beneath, before finally waking up with a gasp of your name.

“Shhh, yes it´s me.” You whisper to her to signal to stay quiet.

She blinks the sleep from her eyes with rapid movements and threads her fingers into your hair. “Don´t stop, please…”

She begs in a breathy, irresistible voice and who were you to deny her. With a brush of the fingers, you put a strand of auburn curls behind her ear, triggering a full body shiver when your nails scrape along the sensitive skin.

“I won´t. I promise.” You vow in return and seal it by sealing her lips with your in the kiss that should have happened hours ago. Followed by so much more that, if titled the best night of your life, would still be an understatement. Having her thighs tremble on the sides of your head as she tried to keep her body away from resting fully on your head, no matter how often you tried to nudge her down by the hips. Satisfied couldn´t even begin to capture the air around you as you lay beside each other, tightly entangled, bathed in the light of the rising sun and on the brink of sleep.

[pascallftv]

Girl Next Door— Part 3

Previous Part Series Masterlist

Summary: Joel invites you over for dinner and you watch a scary movie together.

Word count: 2.8k

AN: This had me kicking my feet and twirling my hair BAD

The drive down the road to Joel’s house consisted of your mind rerunning the events over the past few days. You over analyzed each touch, conversation, and even the way Joel looked at you. Consider it delusional, but you had yourself convinced that maybe your infatuation wasn’t one sided. The memory of Joel wrapping around you from behind to show you how to tear down the tiles replayed the most. Surely there was more to that interaction, you had thought to yourself. More so, you considered what your intentions were for the evening. Your plans to watch a movie could be harmless. The truth was you were lonely at the house alone, and you could only imagine how lonesome Joel got living by himself, so watching a movie together would lessen both of your times’ alone. However, there was a voice at the back of your mind laying out the potential to make a move on Joel.

Sure, the idea of being able to finally touch Joel in the way you wanted sounded captivating, but the consequences of your actions could be detrimental to the progress you’d made so far with him, and even ran a hazardous line for he and your father’s friendship. You fantasized about the sheer chance of Joel accepting your advances and everything working out perfectly when breaking the news to your father. It seemed within reach to you, but also so unobtainable at the same time.

After parking your car in Joel’s driveway, you tucked one hand into the pocket of flowy sweatpants, with a tote bag in the other containing a couple of movies that you’d picked out. For being a summer evening, the temperature had cooled off and you were a bit chilly with just a white camisole on your top half. Joel’s porch light was on, illuminating the steps and front door. You were nervous. It felt like the nerves before a first date, although this interaction was far from that. You lifted your knuckle and knocked on the door. After a few moments, the door opened to Joel wearing a pair of dark gray sweatpants paired with a black t-shirt. The outfit was very different from his usual attire, but damn did he look good. His muscular biceps and forearms were on display, as well as his tanned complexion.

“Hi.” You said, adjusting the tote bag over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes trailed down to take in your outfit as well. Your thin, yellow sweatpants flowed down your legs, and your tight, white camisole with lace details didn’t leave much to the imagination. The chilly evening air left your nipples erect, the fabric of your top peaked around them. Joel swallowed hard, his eyes falling upon yours before you caught him lingering on your chest for too long.

“Hi.” His gravelly voice responded, stepping aside to let you inside. His house was surprisingly decorated and very cozy. The walls were off white, and the foyer accommodated a beautiful dark green cabinet. The rug beneath your feet was an aged maroon with an extravagant bohemian print. A gold framed mirror was hung on the wall above the green cabinet. Joel’s attention to decorative details shocked you. You slid off your slip on shoes and sat them adjacent to a pair of Joel’s shoes against the wall. The aroma of cooking food wafted into your nostrils, the smell making your mouth water.

“I grilled some marinated chicken. The garlic potatoes are finishin’ up in the oven.” Joel explained, leading the way into his living room that was connected to the kitchen.

“It smells amazing, Joel.” You said, your eyes wandering, still observing the interior of his home.

The living room was just as breathtaking as the foyer. There was another bohemian rug across the dark, polished wood flooring. In front of a flat screen TV was a brown sofa and an aged wooden coffee table that matched the flooring.

“Your house is beautiful.” You spoke as you entered the kitchen. The tantalizing smell of the food was more intense, and you couldn’t wait to try his cooking. Joel looked back at you and smiled.

“Why thank you, darlin’.” He responded, grabbing an oven mitt off the counter, using it to pull the pan of potatoes out of the oven. He placed them on the stovetop next to the chicken breasts that looked grilled to perfection.

“I didn’t take you as a cook.” You said, stepping closer to steal a look at the food Joel prepared.

“It’s always the ones you least expect.” He said, reaching into one of the black cabinets to grab two plates. After dishing out a piece of chicken and some potatoes, Joel handed you one, then grabbed a fork and knife out of a drawer for you.

“I poured you a glass of wine, I wasn’t sure if you drank so I got you a glass of water too.” Joel explained, glancing over at the dining room table. It was a small, dark wood table and chairs with black cushions. The colors of his house felt like home somehow. In the center of the table was a clear vase with yellow flowers. They appeared to be flowers from the field behind your houses. For being such a gruff man, Joel’s house was delicate and cozy.

“I do love wine.” You chimed, following him to take a seat at the table.

You picked up your fork and knife, cutting into your chicken. You popped a piece into your mouth, and nearly melted at how amazing it tasted.

“Joel, this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You gushed. Joel looked up at you from his own food, a smile toying at his lips.

“You sure do know how to flatter an old man like me.” He teased, taking a bite of his potatoes.

“I can’t believe no one has tied you down yet. I mean shit, you can cook, you’re an excellent builder and decorator.” You rambled. “Not to mention, you’re very easy on the eyes.”

Joel watched you with wonder in his eyes as you spoke. God, you were everything.

“If you find the answer, be sure to let me know.” Joel conceded, taking another bite of chicken. After he swallowed, he knitted his brows and rested his arms on the table. “You know, I could say the same for you.”

“Is that so?” You raised a brow, sipping on your white wine.

“Well, look at yourself, darlin’.” Joel gestured towards you. “You’re young, beautiful. You’re intelligent. What else could a man want?”

You swallowed hard, running your tongue over your teeth. You couldn’t decipher if he was simply being nice or if there was an underlying reasoning behind his words. You cleared your throat and chuckled softly.

“You’re blowing sunshine up my ass.” You said, poking a potato with your fork and bringing it to your mouth. Joel chuckled and shook his head.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” He insisted. You felt your cheeks flushing. You ate in comfortable silence for a moment, your thoughts running crazy. You felt even more delusional after Joel’s words.

“So I brought over a couple movies. I have the original Halloween and the first Scream.” You changed the subject.

“I haven’t seen Scream in a while.” Joel imputed, taking a swig of his mixed drink that appeared to be a Jack and Coke.

“Then it’s decided.” You winked.

When you both finished eating, you helped Joel pack away the leftover food into Tupperware containers. Even his refrigerator was organized. You helped put your dishes in the dishwasher before you both retired to the living room to put on the movie. You brought your glass of wine with you, placing it on the coffee table. Joel grabbed the movie from you, setting up the movie while you got comfortable on the sofa. After your conversations at dinner, your nerves had practically evaporated. You felt much more comfortable and less like you needed to act a certain way to impress Joel.

You watched his back flex underneath his black t-shirt as he leaned down to put the disc in the DVD player. You longed to run your hands down his back, feeling every curve and muscle of his back.

It was dark outside now, the only light source being a lamp that Joel had turned on. He walked to the couch, reaching behind you to grab a large wool blanket. He sat down beside you, your legs being only a few inches apart. Joel placed the blanket over both of your laps, and grabbed the TV remote off the table to click play on the menu to start the movie.

“This is going to give you nightmares, isn’t it?” Joel spoke, looking over to you. Your legs were curled up into your chest on the couch cushion, you pulling the blanket up over your arms.

“No.” You said with a smirk, looking from him back to the TV. “I’ll probably be scared shitless in that house by myself though.”

“A scary movie was a terrible idea.” Joel sighed, resting his arm over the back of the couch.

The first kill of the movie played across the screen, and Joel startled beside you. You turned to look at him, your mouth parted in surprise.

“Maybe it’s you we need to be worried about.” You teased, reaching over to squeeze his leg. His head snapped over at your touch. You turned back to keep watching the movie, but Joel’s eyes lingered on you. Your touch made him feel crazy. The power of your fingertips was enough to make him melt entirely. His eyes lowered to your plump lips, the shadows from the TV dancing across them. Your gaze was locked on the movie, not even paying attention to how you had Joel caught in a trance.

Strategically, Joel decides to lean forward to take a swig of his drink, coming back down to sit even closer to you. Your thighs were touching under the blanket now, his arm falling behind your head to rest on the back of the couch again. You glanced down to observe your close proximity. Your legs were still tucked up on the couch, so your knees were practically on top of his lap.

You continued to watch the movie, but you weren’t really paying attention. Your eyes followed the images flashing across the screen, but your brain wasn’t comprehending anything. All you could focus on was how good it felt to exchange body heat with Joel. You wanted to cuddle into his side, but you couldn’t find the courage to do so. Little did you know, that’s exactly what Joel longed for you to do. He wasn’t paying attention to the movie either. Likewise, he was fighting every urge to drape his arm across your shoulders instead of the couch.

As the movie progressed, a jumpscare happened, and you jolted and covered your eyes. Without thinking, you leaned into Joel’s side. He looked down at your head pressed into his chest, and he lowered his arm to wrap around you, his hand squeezing your arm gently.

“Holy shit, I even expected it too.” You muttered, leaning your head back just a little to peer up at him. Joel stared back into your eyes, the emotion in them unreadable. Joel reached his free hand up hesitantly, brushing your hair back out of your face. Goosebumps rose on your skin, your eyes flickered back and forth between his eyes, searching for any hint of emotion.

Joel didn’t speak. His thumb was working soft circles on your arm while his other hand lingered in the hair by your face.

“Joel.” You whispered. His eyes flickered to yours.

“Hmm?” He muttered gruffly.

“Kiss me.” You exhaled. Joel stared at you for a moment, his eyes dancing between yours and your lips. He furrowed his brows as he considered.

He was fighting himself mentally. If there were zero consequences, he would’ve kissed you way before this moment, but there were so many obstacles with taking things to that level with you. Would it make things awkward between you? Would you realize he was too old for you? What about your father?

Joel’s hand moved to your jaw, his thumb running gently over the soft tissue of your bottom lip.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Joel asked softly, the pad of his thumb still on your lip. You nodded, your hand reaching up to cup Joel’s face. His complexion was rough and tanned with wisdom, the crow’s feet by his eyes deepening with the perplexed expression on his face. You ran your fingertips over his beard, ghosting them slowly over the gray patches.

“Use your words, sweetheart.” Joel cautioned. You stared up at him, your fingers venturing into the hair by his ear. Your gaze flickered down to his lips, then back up to his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.” You assured him, your tone smooth.

Your words were all Joel needed to hear. He leaned down, his lips softly pressing to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, your fingers moving deeper into Joel’s salt and pepper hair. The kiss was sweet, the taste of the white wine on your lips mixing with the savory flavor of the Jack and Coke on Joel’s. Your bodies pressed together, your chests flush against each other. Your gut was swarming with electricity, Joel’s arm dropping to your lower back to press you closer to him. He craved you closer. Your tongue darted to brush against his bottom lip, a gentle whimper leaving his mouth, leaving enough of a gap for you to slip your tongue inside.

Joel’s hand lowered to your ass, pulling you up onto his lap, deepening the kiss further. Joel wound his hand into the back of your hair, his fingertips massaging into your scalp lightly. You placed your hands on either side of Joel’s face. You broke away from his lips, lowering your mouth to his jaw, peppering gentle kisses there, then moving to the rough skin of his neck. He exhaled deeply, leaning his head back into the couch, opening up more skin for you to press kisses to.

In that moment, the both of you knew you were playing with fire. You were at the point of no return. The intense infatuation reigned champion over the moral dilemmas that troubled your subconsciouses. The desire you felt for each other took precedence of any sort of reason about the reality of the situation.

Joel’s hands ran down the warm skin of your back as your lips ventured back to his. Your tongues danced together, Joel’s hips rutting up against yours. You felt him hardened underneath you, and suddenly reality swarmed your thoughts. A kiss was one thing, but the thought of moving further scared you. You wanted nothing more to be intimate with Joel, but it felt too soon. You wanted to take your time with him.

You pulled away from the kiss, resting your forehead against his, your warm breath fanning across his face. He ran his hands from your back to your hips, running them slowly up your sides.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Joel whispered, pulling away to gaze into your eyes. He brought a hand up to brush the pad of his thumb across your cheek. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the supple skin of your cheek, then lowered his mouth to your neck, breathing in your sweet, vanilla scent. You breathily moaned, intertwining your hands behind his head, pushing your breasts together.

“So so pretty, honey.” He murmured, his mouth ghosting over the soft skin of your breasts, his fingertip tracing over the peaking fabric from your nipples. Your brows taught together, your lips parted at his gentle touch.

“J-Joel I want to—” you began, “but it’s too soon.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Joel reassured you, lifting his hands to cup your face, pecking a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m just enjoyin’ tasting you. I don’t want to rush anythin’.”

Your belly fluttered, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You bent down and kissed him again, this time with a little more pressure. You couldn’t verbally tell him how you felt about him, but your kiss told him everything he needed to know.

“Stay tonight.” Joel spoke against your lips. “We don’t have to do anythin’, just want to be with you.”

You nodded emphatically, running your hands through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Okay.” You muttered breathily.

You lifted yourself off his lap and sat back down in your spot next to him, this time cuddling into his side. You couldn’t hold back the smile that overtook your lips.

[mykneeshurt]

Pray

Image by - emmakatka on Flickr

Priest AU

Father Keegan Russ x AFAB!reader

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit smut Heavy use of religious imagery, sexualising religion (Christianity/Roman Catholicism), so much smut and blasphemy, all chapters are explicit but all consensual

A/N - I’ve kept this as AFAB as there are no pronouns used, however you are a nun. Which is a female vocation, so if this needs to be changed to female please let me know! This was inspired by joyceartworks on instagram, her nun series is one of my favourite pieces of artwork.

———

You stepped off the coach, into a small beaten up town in the middle of the Appalachians. It was late afternoon, verging on evening as the sun set behind the mountain range in the distance. The trees were starting to turn, in front of you was a beautiful valley, filled with reds, oranges, browns as the autumn took hold of the sleepy town. The town looked run down, eerily quiet even. Holding the tunic of your habit you fought against the strong breeze which suffocated the town.

A white church sat in a field opposite the coach stop, rotting in the deafening silence of the misty mountain town. Gravestones littered the perimeter, each one covered in moss, crumbling back into the earth. A sign next to it read ‘Jesus is Lord. He is coming soon. Repent.’ This would be your home for the next few months, your Reverend Mother had sent you here for your next mission.

‘Help Father Keegan Russ with the souls of the damned.’

You’d met him briefly before on a few occasions, and ever since his piercing ice grey eyes had lingered in your mind. The smirk he gave you when he shook your hand still kissed your skin and the heat from his gaze still penetrated your core. He was going to test your faith, that you knew for certain.

As you entered the church the door closed behind you with a thud. The old wood barely hanging onto life with each use. The floor was stained a dark cherry colour, with stark contrasting white walls. Cracks crept along the structure, the wooden floor creaking beneath your feet with each step. A huge cross loomed over the alter, also a deep cherry colour.

Darkness soon slithered through the windows of the Church, a cool draft following it. The pre-lit candles on the walls illuminated the room with a golden glow, shadows danced in the dark corners where the light refused to touch. Each flame danced with the chill that filled the old building.

A door opening at the side of the altar made you jump. Clutching your chest you spun around only to see Father Russ emerge from his quarters. ‘Ah! You’re here!’ He bellowed as he approached you. He was dressed in all black, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his Roman collar contrasting perfectly against his shirt. It made his eyes pop even more. Almost hypnotising.

Grabbing your suitcase he gestured for you to follow him, both pairs of footsteps echoed in the empty church as he led you to his quarters. You instantly felt the energy shift, his presence permeated your being, not even the rosary you wore could keep him away.

He showed you around his quarters and to your room, which was adjacent to his own. A simple bed, desk and wardrobe adorned your room. A dull orange glow emanated from the single light in the centre of the room. Dropping your suitcase down he leant against the door frame. ‘Dinner will be ready soon, why don’t you get freshened up. We can eat then I’ll show you the Church and go through what your duties will be.’

You nodded, giving him a warm smile. But not before casting your eyes over his body, you tried to fight it but you were drawn to him. His biceps bulged under his black shirt, his broad frame nearly filled the door frame, accentuated by his small waist, only adding to his impressive physique.

———

Sometime later there was a knock at your door, opening it you were met with him. An embarrassed look on his face. ‘Father Russ? Is everything ok?’ You asked, trying to fight the heat that bubbled to the surface. ‘Change of plan. I’ll show you the Church now, I forgot to turn the stove on.’ He admitted whilst scratching the back of his neck. Giggling you gave him a bright smile ‘ok, lead the way Father.’

He showed you the confessional booth, where the hymn books were kept, and took you through your duties whilst you stayed here. Sitting on the altar steps you exchanged pleasant conversation, he sat close to you. Thighs spread as he leant on them, watching you from the corner of his eye. ‘Would you like to pray before dinner?’ He offered, as he shifted his posture.

‘Yes Father.’

‘Kneel’ he ordered before he got to his feet. Doing as you were told you knelt before the altar, hands clasped around your rosary. He brought forward the Ciborium, a simple golden cup which held the host. You looked up at him through your lashes, eager to please the man before you. Eager to please God.

Standing over you he peered down into your eyes, an invisible force pulling you deeper and deeper into the temptation of sin. You tried to rid your mind of the impure thoughts that plagued you, you tried to focus on Gods words, you tried to ignore the primal feeling that surged within your core.

God how you tried.

Releasing his hand from the cup he traced his thumb along your bottom lip, along your jaw. ‘May God keep you in enternal life’ he muttered as he pulled your jaw open. You were the picture of innocence, on your knees, doe like eyes, mouth open ready to receive the body of Christ.

But within than innocence a deep wickedness hid within the shadows.

His eyes lit up as he noticed your tongue piercing, ‘and what’s this?’ He asked as he cocked his head to the side, thumb still burning on your lip. Your face changed, from an innocent lamb to a wolf in sheep’s clothing. ‘What the Reverend Mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her’ you purred as you gently kissed the pad of his thumb.

You watched as his breath caught in his chest. Maybe God sent you here to test him. A test you hoped he’d fail.

He placed the host gently on your tongue and watched has it melted in your mouth. You kept your focus purely on him as you swallowed, slowly. Biting your lip as you rose to your feet. You were mere inches away from each other, the empty space in between you bursting with energy.

Reaching down you picked up the host, he raised a brow ‘you know you shouldn’t be touching that.’

‘Better to ask for forgiveness than for permission, maybe you should take it back’ you quipped as you placed it on your tongue. Pulling him in by his belt his body slammed into yours.

He regarded you for a second, battling with God, battling with his faith.

Eventually he snaked his hand around your neck pulling you into a kiss, using your tongue you moved the host from your mouth to his. Using your neck he pulled you deeper, closer. Your hands still lingered on his belt, feeling his erection grow beneath the fabric.

You pulled away and watched as he swallowed the host. You searched his icy eyes, the windows to his soul. While his face remained stoic, his eyes had a glint to them. A twinkle. Much like your own. Both of you in this moment wanting to test your God, wanting to give into this sin of lust, wanting to bite the apple.

He moved first, pushing you against the altar. He lifted you onto it with ease, pushing his lips onto yours, unrelenting, unforgiving, all consuming. You kissed him back, arms wrapped around his neck as he laid you down. His hands slipped under your habit, mapping your body beneath your clothes.

Palming at your breasts he felt the unmistakeable presence of a nipple piecing. He groaned into your mouth at his finding, rolling his hips into you. His hard cock slowly rubbed against your cunt as he held your waist, fingertips threatening to bruise your skin. Nipping at his bottom lip he pulled away, ‘I knew God was testing me when he sent you to me’ he smiled.

‘Mmm’ you hummed as you cupped his jaw, ‘seems like we’ve both failed.’

Sitting up you pulled at his belt, desperately trying to get to what you wanted. Hiking up your habit skirt he pulled down your tights, finding beneath them lace adorned panties. ‘God’ he whimpered, already feeling how wet you were for him. ‘Don’t take the lords name in vain Father’ you smirked. He ran a finger along your slit causing a sharp moan to burst from your chest.

Placing his forehead against yours he inhaled your moans of pleasure as he inserted his finger. Cradling the back of your head he held you close, whispering words of praise, words of adoration.

Gazing into his eyes your pupils were blown wide with pleasure, breath heavy and thick as he added another finger. ‘Don’t stop Father, please’ you muttered under a strained breath. Thrusting his fingers in and out of your pussy, you said a silent prayer to yourself. Begging God forgiveness, begging him to let you cum.

‘Take me Father, take me here, in front of him, in front of his angels, in front of his cross’ you pleaded, gripping onto his shirt, his neck. He removed his fingers, watching as they glistened in the golden light of the Church. Placing them on his tongue he savoured your taste, his once icy grey eyes now a river of black. ‘Divine’ he whispered beneath his breath.

Unbuckling his belt he released his painfully erect cock, and lined it up to your entrance. With one smooth thrust he pushed into you, leaving you gasping for air at his stretch. ‘Yes Father’ you whined as he pulled your hips off the alter forcing you to wrap your legs around him. Each movement was calculated and swift, adoring rather than punishing.

You leant back onto the alter, eyes fixed on the cross as he fucked you. He watched as you bit your lip, as you gripped the white linen between your fingers, as your eyes rolled. He’d wanted this since the first time he’d met you, spending many a night cock in his hand thinking of you. Thinking of your taste.

It was better than the host.

It was better than the sacramental wine.

Better than forgiveness.

Better than God.

Soft whines fell from your lips as his breathlessness hung in the air. Each slap of skin rung out in the Church, each thrust begged for forgiveness, begged for redemption. He knew he’d spend the rest of his life begging God for absolution of he could keep his cock buried in your perfect cunt.

‘Pray for me Father. Pray for us’ you managed to ask, in between your pants and whines. Pulling out he quickly repositioned you, your back arched against him as he held your throat to his shoulder. Slipping inside you once more as he hovered above your lips.

‘Soul of Christ, sanctify me’ he began … ‘body of Christ, save me - thrust - Blood of Christ, inebriate me; - thrust - Water from the side of Christ, wash me; - thrust - Passion of Christ, strengthen me’ he whispered, his breath tickling your lips. His eyes transfixed on yours, his words being absorbed into your skin.

‘O good Jesus hear me; Within your wounds hide me;’ he said as he added a finger to your clit. ‘Separated from you, let me never be; From the evil one protect me’ he emphasised the word evil as he added more pressure to your clit. You moaned into his mouth, providing him with the very oxygen he needed to live.

‘At the hour of my death, call me; and close to you bid me; That with your saints, I may be praising you forever and ever. Amen.’ As he finished the prayer your orgasm washed over you like a blinding light, your muscles constricted, wound tightly as if round a tree. Your eyes screwed shut as the intense wave of pleasure made you ascend.

He held you close to him still, watching as your face contorted with the ultimate pleasure of lust. His fingers still lightly brushed over your sensitive clit, making you buck from overstimulation. He was close. But this isn’t how he wanted you.

His thrusts slowed as he kissed you, slowly releasing your neck and finally pulling out of you. Breaking the kiss he placed his fingers in your mouth, you ran your tongue over his fingers. ‘Kneel’ he whispered just like he did before. A sign of reverence. Except this time he used his fingers in your mouth to push you down, guiding you.

Kneeling before him your clasped your hands once more watching as he pumped his cock before you. Biting your lip you recited your own prayer. ‘I’m truly sorry for all my sins. Please fill me with your grace.’ After the final word you stuck your tongue out, the silver piercing in clear view. He caressed your jaw as he neared his high, soft whimpers and grunts rang in your ears as he came into your mouth, onto your tongue.

The silky white fluid ran to the back of your throat as you swallowed eagerly. Not wanting to waste a drop. Not wanting displease his holiness, instead wanting to show your devotion to him. His face was flushed as he lifted his head, smiling down on you as he tucked himself away. Giving you his hand he helped you up, kissing you one last time, ‘I fear we may really have to beg for forgiveness for this’ he smirked.

‘Oh I’m counting on it Father.’

—————

A/N - I fucking love Appalachian gothic/mid west gothic it has my heart

Taglist - @tiredmetalenthusiast @glitterypirateduck @lollycotton @00ops1e @cowyolks @soapyghost @dontfearthereaperazura @ghostslillady @luminousbeings-crudematter @villainsoftheweek

[whumpsoda]

Intake Paperwork: Wesley

Masterlist cw: dehumanization, bbu/bbu adjacent, pet whump, institutionalized slavery, mentions of sedation, implied future noncon, kidnapping

——————

SUBJECT: 369719

DATE OF ACQUISITION: 12.15.XXXX

TIME OF ACQUISITION: 1:44 AM

LOCATION ASSIGNED: FACILITY 014, [REDACTED], USA

PREVIOUS ALIAS: Eugene Gabriel Reyes

AGE: 20

DATE OF BIRTH: 03.28.XXXX

HAIR: Dark Brown

EYES: Brown

HEIGHT: 5’10”

WEIGHT: 145 lbs 

SEXUALITY: Gay

DESIGNATION: Romantic

KNOWN SKILLS: Subject attending school on a sports related scholarship. Subject refused to disclose information on sex life, or any other details.

HOBBIES: Subject refused to report, providing only various expletives as his response.

KNOWN CONCERNS: Subject has shown to be increasingly aggressive as well as violent, taking any measure possible to repeatedly attempt an escape. Subject has shown to be a danger to those around him, recommended and requested to be kept in solitary for the entirety of his training.

KNOWN IMMEDIATE FAMILY: Angela Reyes, mother, and Gabriel Reyes, father. The couple was reported to have been divorced for 16 years. Both are still living.

SIBLINGS: Lewis Reyes, brother, five years older and living.

METHOD OF ACQUISITION: Involuntary. 

ACQUISITION DETAILS: Subject was apprehended after a night out with friends during his walk home. Subject fought back relentlessly before being injected with a sedative, although not before giving an employee a black eye. Subject was reported to have made continuous noise as an attempt at resistance during the transfer to the WRU facility.

CONTRACT SIGNED: 12.15.XXXX 2:58 PM

ASSIGNED HANDLERS: 

           PRIMARY: Amanda Reeves, Senior Handler and Processor, Romantic Division

           SECONDARY: Jermey Martinez, Senior Handler and Processor, Romantic Division

SIGNATURE PROVIDED INVOLUNTARILY, SUBJECT SEDATED FOR SIGNING. SUBJECT DISPLAYED MULTIPLE SIGNS OF INJURY AT TIME OF SIGNING, MOST NOTABLY A BROKEN NOSE.

CONTRACT SIGNATURE: Eugene Reyes, aka 369719

ESTIMATED COST FOR TRAINING: $150,000 USD

COMPENSATION PAID BY PROSPECTIVE:  $800,000 USD 

ADDED FEES: $50,000 AGORAPHOBIA TRAINING FEE

REQUESTED TRAINING: ALL Positions 1-35, Flexibility, Sensitivity, Endurance, Agoraphobia

COMMENTS:

This one’s gonna be a pain in my ass for a while, I’m sure of it. He already is, and we haven’t even begun his training. The drip will just make his fight stronger, his desperation ever present. I’ll get him under control though, as fast as possible. I always do. I can already see him groveling at my feet, quiet and docile with a head stuffed full of cotton. I imagine agoraphobia training being an interesting perk to this trainee, though.

[pandoa]

I WAS SOLD TO NIGHT RAVEN?!?!?

where your crow-like father sells you to the most eligible group of young men in twisted wonderland

~feat. vil schoenheit, rook hunt, epel felmier, deuce spade, ace trappola, kalim al-asim, and jamil viper~ vdc group!!

twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader warnings: mentions of alcohol, gambling, toxic parental relationships, ooc, crowley is a dad. literally nothing in this is canon

i hope u know where this is going

"Oh, and by the way, I'm selling you for one madol."

"What—?"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

CRASH!!!

In what seemed like an instant, the door to the place you regrettably called "home" was blasted off of its hinges with a resounding collision, stray particles of dust beginning to scratch the air with each spec and what had looked to you like... the silhouettes of seven young men—?

You should have known this would've happened eventually.

Time and time again, your raven-haired father would return home, the putrid stenches of a long night spent mindlessly drinking staining the wrinkles in his clothes, as a loud clamoring of your already shattering door screeched throughout the barren walls of your home. Life was terrible. Absolutely terrible. And your so-called father's gambling obsession along with the debts he'd built up were terrible, too.

Some kind of father you are, Crowley, you furiously thought. You couldn't stand it anymore. Your gender neutral girlbossness was just to good for this crow.

Although, that fury you constantly felt would never match the absolute rage within the irises of your eyes when you spotted your father standing beside the closed doors of your home minutes before the (literal) destruction, luggage that looked eerily similar to yours placed adjacent to him in a messily put-together pile.

"Oh, look! They're all here already~" the pompous man sang as he turned to face the clearing shadows of the people in front of the both of you. You couldn't believe what he had just said. Your mouth hung open in shock confusion as the blaring light from outside bled into the house as your father grinned at the sizable cracks and hole where your door should have been.

Wait.

Was that a cauldron wedged into the other side of your house?

"Welcome!" Crowley practically shouted with his a-little-too-cheery voice, escorting a group of young men into what was left of your home. "How are you gentlemen doing today? Perfect weather for selling your own child to a bunch of random strangers, hm? Yes, yes! I knew you would get it! Anyway, here's what you all ordered," the man said leaving no room for any voice to reply as he harshly shoved you into the arms of one of the men who had extremely long, flowing hair of dark chocolate brown that made your orbs dilate as you shyly blushed an embarrassing red at the contact.

"Oh, I-I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry," you stuttered.

The man dryly looked your way, unfazed, "You're fine. Just don't do it again. I get enough to deal with from Kalim and I'm in no need for more."

Bro was so in love with you.

"Now, Jamil we may be purchasing this peculiar individual, but let's not all be too curt, hm~?" another man with short blonde hair cut into the space separating you from the group of men. He seemed very eccentric as he proceeded to adjust the fluffy feather of his hat above his head.

"Tell that to Deuce," a boy with a cute red heart covering his left eye said glaring at his friend beside him, "He's the one that literally blew up the damn house just now."

The boy who you assumed to be Deuce glared back at his friend (?) "I did not blow it up. You're the one that told me to use the cauldron."

"And you're the one who actually used it. Dumbass."

"OH YOU—"

"Now, boys, no fighting here." Just as you thought no more men could interject this strange conversation, another man—who was rather glamorous, at that—pushed past the fighting friends as he stopped whatever chaos would erupt if he did not. "It's uncouth and will ruin the eyeliner I oh-so-kindly put on you all. Don't waste my hardly spent time."

"It wuhz mor' of auh' waste of our time, though, but we'll let yuh gaslight yuhself, Vil..." you caught the sighs of a smaller lavender-haired boy whisper under his breath.

Vil slowly turned to the smaller boy, a dark aura cursing the faker-than-Barbie smile on the beautiful man's face, "What was that Epel? I believe you had something to say. Please do enlighten us and see the consequences they may lead to."

Homie had the eyes of a murderer.

"N-nothing..." Epel regrettably replied. There was no way he could make it out of this alive. Maybe he should just sell himself to a random group of strangers like you did. Farmboy made you his idol.

"On another note," Vil said as he returned back to his stern manner, "the box for you is ready as well as the movers we hired of you."

You curiously looked at the man, "Movers? How much of my personal belongings are we taking?"

"Personal belongings? Oh, dear burnt potato, the box is for you. The movers will pick you up and drive behind us back to our home. Oh, but not to worry, they'll wrap you up in plenty of bubble wrap, so hopefully no damage will come to you."

"You're packing me in a cardboard box—??????"

"We're packing you in a cardboard box," all seven of the men dryly answered.

Damn. Capitalism popped off again ig.

a/n: ahem-

MWAHAHAHA APRIL FOOLS MY SKRUNKLES-

[fellow-travelers-fic-recs]

Fellow Travelers Fic Recs | Fire Island Fics (1970s Era): Part Two

An assortment of fics prominently featuring Fire Island and/or the 70s era… not necessarily together. Some time travel or fics that span decades including the 70s or Fire Island adjacent.

🔥 Check out Part One here!

✨ Show the authors some love with your comments and kudos after reading. Likes are lovely, but please reblog this post to share this content with your mutuals! ✨

🏝️ These Foolish Things [E, 23K] by @phoenix-ascended | phoenix_ascended After the awful, disastrous three-way with Craig and Hawk on Fire Island, Tim comes down to breakfast, fully expecting Rafael to walk him to the ferry.

He walks down the short corridor to the few steps that lead into the living room, half-dreading that Hawk will have just gone straight back to the bump, anything to deaden the pain. Instead, he’s sitting at the table in a floral silk robe, red-rimmed eyes, fingernails bitten down to the quick.

“Everyone else still asleep?” Tim asks, as he puts his brown leather bag down near the door, hesitating to join Hawk at the table. He feels overdressed, as he has so often these last few days, in his checked flannel over a white T-shirt, his jeans where everyone else has been in shorts or less.

“I… kicked them out.” Hawk’s voice is rough, the echoes of his sobbing last night, inconsolable in Tim’s arms. He almost sounds surprised at himself, unsure that what he’s saying is true.

A canon-divergent fix-it where Tim stays in Fire Island for an extra week while Hawk detoxes, and they discover whether they can trust each other with their truth.

🔥 do i stay or do i bruise [E, 15K] by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup Tim gets into the time loop on Fire Island, living the same three days over and over. 🏝️ Kiss of Summer [NR, 5K]💠 by drabbleswabbles After a memorable first date, Tim gets an invitation to Fire Island.

Part 2 of A Kiss Is Just A Kiss

(Not Quite) Fire Island, Adjacent and other 70s Era Fics

🏝️ make it feel like home [NR, 2K] by @alorchik | alorchik Jackson returns home, haunted by his struggles and fears. Amidst his father’s quiet care, he searches for hope, fearing it may already be too late.

🔥 right or wrong i can't get along without you [NR, 15K] by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords Jackson Fuller disappears and everyone fears the worst - until he turns up in San Francisco asking Tim for help.

💠 Authors: If your tumblr (or other socials) isn't linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it. Or, if you're linked already, and you'd rather not be, please contact me to remove it.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Father’s Day - Aftermath continued

There have been some… demands. Mainly relating to that hug a certain someone desperately needed after this and this so… your wish is my command (and you are all dreadful enablers - I was absolutely intending to clean the bathroom this eve but I wrote this instead)

💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️

He didn’t hear them approach. Perhaps they had upped their combined stealth game or he’d been too caught up in his own thoughts. Either way the tentative “Scotty?” from Alan made him jump and some guilty impulse caused him to throw the card out of his hands and over the edge of the balcony.

A split second later, another impulse had him hopelessly grabbing for it and allowed a faint whine of distress to escape as it was caught by the swirling sea breeze and drifted towards the pool.

Alan and Gordon appeared at either side and they stood together in silence to watch its descent. Scott absolutely did not let out a sigh of relief as, at the last moment, some heaven-sent zephyr nudged it away from the water and underneath a sun lounger. He did not do that because he was going to burn it anyway and the pool might have saved him a job.

Gordon clearly failed to comprehend how Scott had been completely uninvested in the fate of the card and chuckled as he nudged his shoulder and said “We could have written you another one, Scoots.”

Scott’s grip tightened on the railing “No! You mustn’t! I mean it was sweet… thank you! But you shouldn’t… I didn’t… you can’t think…”

That thing about the words and the brothers again. He could sense them making eye contact behind his neck. Scott bit his tongue to halt the incoherent mess and took a deep breath to try again…

… which was immediately forced out of his lungs by the double envelopment of his rib cage. His intercostal muscles stood no chance against four well-developed arms with a point to make and no further words were possible, well chosen and coherent or otherwise.

“You DID and we CAN.” Gordon declared.

“We do!” Alan chipped in.

“But…” Scott wheezed.

“No buts.” Gordon growled.

“But…”

They squeezed tighter.

“Huuuuuhhhhhh… Need… breathe…”

The squeezing lessened marginally.

“Fine, but only if you don’t argue.”

“I… okok.”

The pressure was reduced enough for him to gasp in a decent breath, lift his arms and drop them around their shoulders to apply some crushing affection of his own. Some time passed, he wasn’t sure how much.

“I do love you both, you know that right?”

“Course we do!”

“You never let us doubt it, Scotty.”

“Oh… good. That’s good.”

He closed his eyes and savoured the moment for nearly a whole-moment-and-a-half before the guilt crept back in.

“I’m sorry guys, I…”

“Scott, don’t make me crush you again because I can and I will.”

“I don’t doubt it. Honestly though…” - he powered on through the brown-eyed glare from his left armpit because all of a sudden a little flare of hope had lit in his chest and refused to be quashed by common sense and he needed to know, needed to hear if it could possibly be true - “… you really think… I did ok?”

The Tinies lost their synchronisation then, as Alan yelled “YESSSS!” in Scott’s right ear and Gordon head butted his clavicle with a growled string of very military phrases disparaging his ability to understand the most basic of concepts.

Bruised and half-deafened, Scott allowed himself the smallest smile. He was mildly distracted by a faint clicking sound before Alan caught his attention again.

“The Bestest. That’s what it said, Scotty.”

“Allie, you do know that isn’t a word, right?”

“Meh, it’s word-adjacent. And hey, I’m 18 now, you don’t get to police my language anymore!”

Scott snorted “Try telling that to Grandma.”

There was some chuckling. Then he sighed “But it’s going to be better now he’s back.”

Gordon huffed then pulled back from the hug a little to frown at him.

“Yeah but you do understand that isn’t because it wasn’t good enough with you? Right?”

“But he’s DAD.”

Gordon seemed to be chewing on something so Scott ploughed on.

“Dad! Your actual Dad! Look, when he’s fully fit, you’ll know what I mean. It’s going to be way better, the way it was always supposed to be.”

Alan had gone a little stiff under his arm and was looking over at Gordon who cleared his throat and grabbed Scott’s hand where it still rested on his shoulder.

“Scott, I’m really glad you got your Dad back. And I’m thrilled that we got him back too. He’s amazing and we love him so much. But I think I speak for both of us…?” Gordon paused and looked at Alan who nodded vigorously “when I say it was always you. Even before… all the Guardian business… you were always there, dadding away like you weren’t just supposed to be our big bro. School stuff, swimming stuff, getting me out of trouble stuff…”

“You taught me to ride my bike and read me stories every night.” Alan gazed up at him with the very same eyes that had demanded just one more story, only the gleam in them was wiser and more determined now.

“Yeah, all that… The important stuff. We know he did his best but he was really busy and you were never too busy for us. Never. And we know how hard you tried when we were assholes and we knew you kept loving us and that’s the thing. Right, Al?”

“Yeah that’s the most important thing and you were definitely the bestest at that.”

Scott felt hot and cold and heavy and buoyant all at once. The words had now utterly failed him so he just held both little brothers as tightly as he could and hoped that would communicate what was needed.

“You’re having a hugging-Scott party and didn’t invite us?”

Virgil’s amused rumble from behind him gave barely a second’s warning before his much bigger little brother added his own muscle to the proceedings and pulled the little group back from the railings to allow John to slip in and cover Scott’s front. A beat, and then a slight grunt from the heavy lifter as Kayo leaped onto his back and wrapped her arms around Scott’s forehead.

Entirely smothered by siblings, his head light and his heart little more than a pulsating puddle of goop in his chest, the tiniest giggle escaped Scott. It looked back and beckoned to its little friends who fell over each other on their way to freedom and were eventually steamrollered by a full-throated cackle as pure intoxicating relief poured out of him.

He’d done ok.

💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️

Down on the pool deck, in the shadow of the balcony, a man leaned quietly on his cane and drank in the incomparably beautiful sound of his children laughing together.

[destinysbounty]

Ok how do u explain Lloyds hair color. Bc I'm pretty sure blonde hair isn't a dominant gene, and both of Lloyds parents have brown hair. Did he bleach it??? How??? Where would he get those resources he's like 8 in S1 and also homeless. Actually on that note what color do u think the FSM's hair was. Because ONE of the siblings has a different one than him. I've always thought the FSM's hair was blonde, bc when it greys out it's so pale, and also because angst in the way of Garmadon being different from his family from the start, but like. How would Garm have gotten the brown hair. Do they have a mom or did the FSM perform mitosis???? AND ALSO Garmadon's hair whites out and doesn't grey out despite him being a brunette (and later having black hair but that's bc of the Venom Influence) so. What's up with that. Also why does Wu's hair go white so early we know he was born with blonde hair. And why doesn't it apply to Lloyd too. What's happening. Where am I.

Right off the bat, lets dispel a common genetics misconception. Yes, its true that when a dominant and recessive gene get paired up, the dominant gene will be presented. You're also correct that blonde is recessive and brown is dominant. However! Like all things in biology, its a bit more complicated than that.

To simplify a surprisingly complicated science to the best of my ability, think of it like this. Although you will typically present based on whatever is the most dominant genes you inherited, you are still a carrier of sorts for the recessive genes. So Garmadon has brown hair, but his father and brother are both blonde, which means he has the potential to be a carrier for the blonde gene.

Then there's Misako, who is also a brunette. We don't know what her parents looked like, but lets say one of them was blonde. Even if she presents as brunette, she could still carry the recessive blonde gene.

When both parents are carriers for the same recessive gene, there's generally gonna be a 1 in 4 chance of their child presenting recessive rather than dominant. So, if we assume one of Misako's ancestors was blonde, then Lloyd being blonde is entirely likely.

This is a depressingly oversimplified summary of the situation, but I'm too lazy to get into the nitty grittys. Feel free to look up 'punnett squares' if you wanna learn more!

You do present a fascinating question, though: where did Garmadon get his brown hair?

Scientifically, the only explanation I can think of would be if Wu and Garm had a birth-mother of some kind. But i personally don't like that explanation because it just makes canon way more complicated than it needs to be. Tangentially, I'm also an "FSM Asexually Reproduced" truther all the way. I refuse to consider the possibility of the FSM having procreated with another person. That man either laid an egg or did some kinda mitosis shenanigan and you absolutely cannot convince me otherwise.

Luckily, we have the luxury of considering nonscientific alternatives.

To understand a more magic- and lore-based approach to the question of the hair colors present int his family, let's first take a look at the family tree:

FSM - blonde (as far as we can guess, at least). Half-dragon, half-oni. Also has godly powers of Creation and Destruction.

Garmadon - brunette. Has inherited the powers of Destruction.

Wu - blonde. Has inherited powers of Creation.

Lloyd - blonde. Has inherited a power very similar to the FSM, in that it's Creation-adjacent (listen, if you have a better way to describe Green fucking Energy, then by all means correct me).

Do you see where I'm going with this? Within the context of the FSM and his bloodline, it would not be entirely unreasonable to assume that blonde hair is in some way affiliated with the draconic half of their bloodline, whereas brown hair is more so affiliated with the oni half of their bloodline. So an individual's hair color may not necessarily be determined solely by standard genetics like a normal human would, but rather by which part of their bloodline they take after more strongly.

In this interpretation, Lloyd being blonde can be seen as a visual shorthand to represent how he has taken more so after his uncle/grandfather in terms of powerset and moral alignment.

Personally, I think both of these explanations are equally valid. That being said, it should be noted that a lot of this discussion operates on the assumption that Ninjagian genetics work in any way similar to ours. For all we know, blonde could be the in-universe dominant trait and brown could be recessive. The possibilities are endless.

I mean, c'mon. It's a fantasy story where the world was created by spinning around really fast. Lloyd canonically has shapeshifting powers, for crying out loud. I feel like him being blonde is completely within the realm of possibility, even without the scientific explanation. I feel like holding this series to any standard of scientific fidelity is just downright silly.

Anyway, thanks for the ask! Hope those answers were to your liking <3

[seluneclerics]

Omg just binge read the five existing chapters of more the fool me and brooooo

Like I just sat my self down and didn’t get up until I finished and I’m so desperate for more!!!

The way you write the characters feels so authentic, even though their relationships develop fairly quick - it doesn’t feel rushed and makes complete sense!

You write Miranda so well, I’ve always in my head saw her as almost adjacent to characters like Narcissa Malfoy, Regina from Ouat etc

They have a cold, detached air around them but they’re fuelled by this addictive passion and commitment to their loved ones that they’re practically clinical about, like they’re not here to play and you get that across so well with Miranda.

I don’t usually read x readers and if I do, I don’t read OC ones but I enjoyed this thoroughly. I might be a little bias because I look a bit like Fraser - brown skin, long, black curls barring the fact that she’s 5’9 and I’m 5’4 at the best of times - but it comes down to how universal you write her.

The name Fraser doesn’t feel like it carries too much connotations like a name like mf Amy or Charlotte which are wayyy to western for a non-white person to easily relate to and her personality is so relatable. And big plus she’s not super annoying so

But your writing is amazing - the way you write intimacy without it being sexual is divine, how the characters look at each other fondly or appreciate the others mind or oh! oh! How you slip in Fraser’s knowledge about them to emphasise how well she knows them! Like how she knew it was Alcina because of her height when she was passed out or how she’s aware that Miranda was coming to yell at her on the balcony! The way she holds Miranda’s face and how Alcina plays piano to her, how Fraser easily makes Mira, Alcina, and soon Donna I’m guessing feel less lonely.

I don’t know, I just live for good sapphic yearning and pining and it’s so nice to see that there’s still a plot - which omg I can’t wait to see where that goes - and it isn’t all easy. Fraser may feel some attachment to Alcina and Miranda but she’s still willing to go behind their backs to search for her father - like trying to sneak into that storage room. She gets close with them but not without her own agenda. The tender, heady back and forth with Fraser and the Lords/Mira is so perfectly countered by the far more gritty landscape and setting, the depictions of the violent, grotesque nature of the corpses and flesh, of the worms and the far less idealistic village and it’s history. You stay true to the grit of RE8 and I’m here for it, I hate when a wlw story or any queer story is all fluffy or all angsty like there needs to be balance and you got it.

Alcina has to hold herself back, she feels uncomfortable knowing about Miranda’s closeness with Fraser or vice versa, Miranda letting Fraser into her vulnerable parts despite how perturbed she is and Fraser not being a dick head that has no common sense but still makes mistakes.

The pacing is great, you have pretty neat prose and I am so interested! Keep up the really awesome work!

- from a dedicate fan now <3

holy shit, i’m???

thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read about the little evil gay women in my phone. thank you even more for making such a detailed comment, really it means the world to me—and also shocks me???

the representation of fraser being a black/mixed black woman was incredibly important to me. the RE community in general has a lack of rep for women of color, likely due to the games themselves not having too many woc in general.

i’m so glad you like my miranda characterization! in this fic, i wanted to lean heavily into what it’s like to be a grieving mother. outside of the vengeful, scornful side of miranda we see inside of RE8. of course, her rage and schemes are still very present in more the fool, but i wanted the aspect of dealing with the grief of losing someone to take center stage.

i think the beauty of miranda/fraser’s dynamic is that fraser exists within miranda’s grief, rather than trying to do away with it or fill the hole that’s left in her heart. she knows she can’t assuage her loneliness and she doesn’t want to. she simply wants to be with her through it all, and i think that’s the beautiful thing about them.

outside of the who-done-it nature of more the fool’s overarching story, i think it’s a story of what it’s like to go to the ends of the earth for a person, solely because you love them and would do anything to see you two reunited.

fun fact: fraser’s name means “of the forest men” and strawberry! the truth is, i got so attached to it when i was trying to come up with a name for her, but then realized it was a boy’s name. i thought it’d be funny for her lore to add in the fact that her father knew it was a boy’s name, but kept it anyway because he liked it so much. besides, i think we can all say it fits her better!

there’s so much more i want to say, but tumblr has deleted this on me like 4 other times already, so i’ll end it there. thank you again, and i look forward to giving you more to read soon!!

[beingalive1]

Bibi And Her Blue-Eyed Baby ⎯ Pt. 1

Rosie Rosenthal x Oc [Batya Bernstein]

Summary: In an attempt to escape his office and the mutterings of the war occurring an ocean away, Rosie Rosenthal hails a cab and finds himself in a dingy jazz club in downtown New York. Never did he think he'd find himself hopelessly enchanted by the jazz singer with the curly hair and white fur coat but he here he is following her outside, his legs moving on their own accord. Maybe he would see her again? Maybe he would ask her for a dance? Maybe she'd write a song for him?

Part two: Here

Author's Note: I've been hooked line and sinker with all these MOTA men and have felt the need to join the fray and write my own fic so here it is - hope ya'll enjoy x

September 5th, 1941

The dull purple glow of the club made the red lipstick placed carefully on her lips shine as she crooned into the microphone.  Many blocks away from her silver spooned upper east side apartment she knew if anyone saw her stood upon that stage swaying her hips to the music, she would never escape the judgemental gazes of the Jewish community. Batya Bernstein, twenty-one, unmarried and swaying precariously in a tight little black dress as she sang through a haze of cigarette smoke. The vague taste of a vodka soda still remained on her tongue; the drink adding to the delightful haze of her evening. 

This was downtown New York – nobody knew who she was here. 

Walking on a tightrope between never ending shame and the thrill of anonymity, Batya continued her swan song. The warmth of admiration caressed her skin like a summers ray; here she was loved and cherished for the gifts she possessed. Here she was merely a woman with an enchanting voice, not the daughter of the famous jeweller Harvey Bernstein. 

Harvey Bernstein. The prized and beloved chairman of the Park Avenue synagogue. The famed owner of Bernstein Jewels. Her father. She often wondered how a man like him could have a daughter like her. It must’ve felt rather shameful. His lack of a son and his only daughter being what many in the community dubbed as ‘wild.’ The park-avenue princess had refused every proposal he had sent her way. The only reason she had not been completely dismissed within the community was due to her quick wit, the love the rabbi had for her and the fact that her father had been the one to finance the new children’s school adjacent to the synagogue. For all her faults he did love her so, his secret Shanda singer of a daughter. 

She could imagine her papa’s face if he caught here tonight: his already greying hair would surely turn completely white at the sight of many men enthusiastically clapping along to the tune of her passionate lyrics. Her songs of melancholy and sadness set to a happy tune subdued her silent feelings of shame. Here, she was not Batya rather Bibi: the jazz singer who would frequent this club every second Saturday Night. As soon as Shabbos had come and gone, she’d greet her beloved audience with a flutter of her fingers, sing for twenty -five minutes, polish off two vodka sodas and leave before she became too memorable. 

But this night was different. 

This night she was going to be remembered. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The way her lips graced the metal expanse of her microphone. How her hair began to fall out of its silken scarf prison as she sang, a rich brown curl falling in front of her face. It was if he was cast under a spell, the dulcet tones of her voice dragging him under the surface and into the smoken depths of her influence. He wasn’t meant to be here. His need to escape the overpowering mutterings of his office had caused him to lose all rational thought, call a cab, and to command the driver to take him to the best jazz club he knew. 

That’s how he ended up here.

Watching her.

He knew her from somewhere. Couldn’t tell if she resembled a girl on a war-bond poster or in a movie he had watched at some point but somehow and somewhere he had seen her before. The familiar shape of her nose, her deep brown eyes, the way she smiled as the audience applauded. He didn’t know what overcame him, a force coercing him to stand from the rickety chair at the back of the room and to follow her bewitching figure out of the club’s back door. A fur coat had been placed on her shoulders; the white material glistened in the evening moonlight. He rushed out towards her, his feet splashing against the puddled gravel of the club’s back alley. 

Her figure froze, her fur-draped shoulders tensing as she turned to face him. Her dark eyes almost glowed as she gazed upon him, a perfectly shaped eyebrow moving upwards as she took him in. His feet shifted from side to side, a nervous grin on his lips as he looked upon her. He was a never a nervous man. He had no idea why he was acting so strange; he blamed the scotch he had sipped as he watched her sing, and the empty stomach he possessed due to his rush here from work. She smirked at him. “Can I help you?” Her voice echoed through the darkened alley, the same rich tone gracing his ears as she spoke. He coughed awkwardly. A futile attempt to pull himself together with a rough hand combed through his curls does nothing to cool the slight burning of his ears. She watched the movement with a curious look upon her face: as if she was waiting for him to scare and run off like a deer in headlights. She looked amused. He coughed once more. He wasn’t the running type.

‘I..’ He began, silently cursing himself for stammering so foolishly. He was a lawyer. His mother’s pride and joy. His ma’s favourite topic over the Shabbos dinner table: boasting to her friends about how his eloquent way of speaking could convince any judge. Why he was struck silent in the presence of this woman he knew not, his lips dry as he tried to throw a sentence together. ‘I enjoyed your show.’ The eyebrow remained raised. A grin broke out upon her face, he didn’t think he had ever seen something so bright. 

Her gaze drank him in like a cool drink on a hot summer’s day. Heat flushing upon his ears as he waited for her to reply. Her mouth opened as she attempted to speak, her dark curls fluttering slightly in the breeze. He couldn’t hear what she had said in reply, the rich tone of her voice drowned out in favour of the sound of a yellow cab screeching to a halt on the pavement next to them. Her hands tightened across her coat; he spotted red nail polish painted carefully upon her fingers. It reminded him of her lipstick. Red suited her. She smiled once more, her body gliding past his own as she entered the back seat of the cab. His eyes followed her powerlessly, his hand itching to reach out and stop her. To touch her red-nailed fingers and ask for a dance.

His eyes remained on her until the cab drove away, the white coat dazzling through the rear end window of the vehicle. He never heard her reply, but he had an inkling he’d see her again. 

She refused to look back as she drove away. The urge to gaze upon him once more burned through her like an inferno as she sat comfortably on the cab’s black leather seats. His eyes had been so blue. A crystalline colour that made her skin flush when he stared at her, his full attention on her figure. She didn’t get his name, but Batya had a feeling she’d see him again.

And even if she didn’t all would not be lost. 

After all, ‘Bibi and her blue-eyed baby’ sounded like a perfect addition to her Saturday Night set list. 

Word count: 1231

Yiddish dictionary: • 'Shanda' - shame, can be used in reference to a person who makes their family feel shame • 'Shabbos' - the sabbath.

Author's Note part 2: Thank you for reading! I'm really excited to share this with you guys - been a while since I've written something so I hope you liked it, next part I think will be out in the next few days x [if you would like to be tagged in any future chapters - drop a note in the comments]

[galactickle]

Last Resort

Teddy Lobo x reader

summary: You're from a rival crime family, Bella Lobo isn't a fan, what happens when you change her mind?

Masterlist

“Uhhh… Dad?” you ask, eyeing the gold pillars and lions.

“Yes dear?” he responds, not even bothering turning to look at you.

“What are we doing at the Lobo’s?”

“There’s just a small matter of business we need to deal with here,” the way he was withholding information from you made you uneasy, your father was always honest with you, ever since you committed your first act of defiance.

The car rolls to a stop, and the door is opened for you by one of the Lobo's henchmen, you eye him wearily as you exit the car, following your father into the ostentatiously decorated building.

“Anthony, dear!” Your father is greeted by Bella Lobo with a hug. “And Y/N, how lovely to see you again!” She approaches you and you shoot her an intense look that says you don’t forget the last time you saw her. “Sit, please,” she gestures to the table behind her, and you slowly move towards it, taking a chair near your father.

You sit in the Lobo’s club, observing the way it was decorated like a shitty themed Vegas casino, reminiscing about the last time you saw the woman who was now sitting opposite you and your father.

It was a sunny summer day, you sat in your golf cart staring at your phone while you waited for your golfing tutor to arrive for your lesson. The golf course was empty besides you, but that wasn't uncommon, it was quite elite.

The sound of another golf cart slowly wheezing towards you drew your attention. While you had never met the tutor you were supposed to meet with before, you instantly knew the man who arrived wasn't him. This man was clearly trying to hide tattoos with a long sleeve polo shirt and full length khakis, you could see the edge of one peeking out of his collar.

“Y/N! I’m Jason, are you ready for your lesson?” he approached trying to seem normal but you still knew something was off.

You smile, hopping off your golf cart, “Of course, it's nice to meet you Jason!”

“You as well,” he grabbed your golf bag for you and led the way to where you would tee off. Setting down the bag, he pulled a club from it, handing it to you, “This is a driver, it allows the ball to travel the farthest.”

You accept the club, and he proceeds to set the tee down in front of you, placing a ball on it gingerly. You take your stance in front of the tee, and he adjusts you into a better one. You take a few practice swings, and he notes a few things you could change. Though the whole time you could see him fiddling with something in his pocket out of the corner of your eye.

When you’re finally ready to hit the ball, you set up your stance, taking into account the notes given, and you swing the club back, Jason stands behind you, out of sight. As you take a deep breath, and exhale, about to swing, you hear the undeniable -shink- of a switchblade. You swing your club swiftly and with grace, missing the ball, and doing a 180 to club Jason in the head. As he collapses to the ground the blade rolls out of his hand.

You sigh, looking out from your spot on the hill, and in the distance on a hill adjacent to you, you see a woman with dark brown hair and clean style drive away in a golf cart with another man.

The stomps of someone running down the grand staircase excitedly snaps you out of your memory. Teddy Lobo appears, looking down at his phone.

“Mom, I'm heading out for a b-” he stops short at the sight of you.

“Teddy dear, lovely for you to join us, have a seat,” Bella interjects when he doesn't finish his statement.

He sighs, pushing a hand through his gelled hair, and takes the seat opposite to you, “What's uh, what's going on?” he addresses his mother, though barely taking his eyes off you.

“Well dear, me and Mr. L/N, have some business we need you and Y/N here to take care of,” the two of you eye everyone suspiciously.

“A few years ago, I’m sure you remember, our two families were on different sides,” your father starts, “but after your mother tried to kill my dearest Y/N, we struck a deal,” Teddy gapes at his mom, and she brushes him off, “A deal for peace,” your father continues. You were still waiting for the ball to drop, “That our two families would work together so long as I provided your mom with a suitable candidate to take over her dynasty.”

The looks of confusion you and Teddy wore must not have shocked them. “Teddy, you are to marry Y/N, she will help you lead our family to be one of the greats!” Mrs. Lobo finishes. You head shoots to your father who solemnly nods, not looking you in the eye.

“Can we talk for a minute?” you ask your father.

He nods again, guiding you out of earshot.

“You sold me to the Lobos? For what? Money? Power? I-” you go off on him.

“-Your life,” your father butts in, “Bella was going to have you killed, I would rather you be alive and a Lobo than dead.” You stare at him sternly, “You're the only thing I have left Y/N, after your mother passed there's no one else I care for other than you..”

You soften, reaching out to your father to pull him into a hug. “I'll never forgive you for this.”

“I know.”

While the two of you talked, Teddy was questioning his own parent. “Mom, what do you mean I’m ‘to marry Y/N’?” Teddy looks to his mom with puppy dog eyes, they worked on occasion but not often enough.

“Dear, I love you, you know that, but look at you,” Bella frowns, “and look at her,” she points to where you stand, scolding your father. “I need someone strong, who will do what needs to be done to continue my legacy, and you don't have the heart for it…” She places a hand on his shoulder, “but she does.”

“But she's the enemy!” he whines.

“She used to be, but now me and her father have grown to get along and so will you. Otherwise you will be shunned from this family.” Teddy frowns aggressively but nods nonetheless.

[missfrieden]

Tech as a father Chapter 1

So this is a first time post, as I also have no Idea about how tumblr posts kinda work. But I had this Idea brewing and saved in my folders for way to long, and it is very long, so why not give it a shot.

And It is about how Tech (actually very self insert) had a secret rlationship with a Jedi Healer, and accidents happen. How they managed to keep it secret, and he helped during the birth. While she as painfull as it was, decided to move to a temple far off, to hide the connecton.

Chapter 1: The tiny surprise

The rain fell relentlessly on Kamino, creating a symphony of soft taps against the metallic structures of the facility. The murky clouds veiled the moon, casting an eerie glow over Clone Force 99's quarters. In the midst of the downpour, Tech stood at the entrance, cradling a bundle in his arms, his usually impeccable uniform now glistening from the rain in the sterile light on Tipoca City, his blacks beneath clinging to his form. He took a deep breath, adjusting his grip on the bundle. Inside, little Orion slept soundly, a serene expression on his face that belied the storm outside. Tech had meticulously wrapped him in layers to keep him warm and dry. His keen analytical mind had calculated every detail, ensuring his son's comfort and safety.

As Tech stepped further into the squads’ barracks, the soft conversations of his brothers greeted him. The room was dimly lit, the workstation illuminated by the glow of holographic screen and the subtle blinking of devices. Tech's bunk was situated near the corner, adjacent to the workbench where his projects sprawled. With gentle precision, he made his way toward his bunk, heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, and Crosshair glanced up from their own activities, their expressions morphing from confusion to surprise. The tinkerer of the squad, the one known for his unyielding focus on his gadgets, was holding something... alive?

Tech approached his bunk, careful not to disturb Orion's slumber. With practiced ease, he arranged the bundle in a small, makeshift crib he had fashioned from spare materials. He had calculated the dimensions meticulously, ensuring a snug fit that would let him sleep beside his son. Hunter was the first to speak, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Tech, what's...?"

Tech cut him off with a quiet gesture, his eyes softening as they met Hunter's gaze. He glanced down at Orion, his fingers brushing against the baby's cheek. "This is Orion," he said, his voice a whisper in the stillness of the room. "My son." The squad exchanged glances, their confusion deepening as they tried to process the unexpected revelation. Echo leaned forward, squinting to get a better look at the bundle. "Why is he... here?" Echo finally managed to ask, his voice reflecting the bafflement of the others.

Tech hesitated for a moment, his analytical mind racing to find the right words. "Orion is mine. I will be raising him as his father," he explained, his tone steady despite the emotions that churned beneath the surface. Wrecker scratched his head, a slow grin forming. "Wait, you mean you're like... his dad-dad?" he asked, his brown eyes wide with realization. Tech nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes, that's correct."

Crosshair remained quiet, his arms crossed as he observed the scene. His expression was inscrutable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, perhaps understanding, hidden behind his usual cool exterior. As the rain continued to patter against the windows, a new warmth seemed to fill the room. The squad members exchanged glances once more, this time with a mixture of surprise, support, and a touch of affection. Tech's careful planning and unexpected announcement had brought them all closer to understanding the complexity of his character, beyond the gadgets and data.

And so, in the midst of the rain's gentle rhythm, Tech settled down beside Orion's makeshift crib, ready to embrace the role of a father, even as his brothers slowly tried to comprehend the depth of his hidden life beyond the battlefield.

Chapter 2 - Masterlist