#but maybe right after im done with my other fanfics

[laxxarian]

Instead of Danny joining the JL, its Dan who joined

It was to redeem himself and bring back his protective obsession instead of massacre

Danny liked the idea and let him go off on his own while Vlad who is in underway of his redemption arc by talking out with his parents, Vlad had also adopted Dan in his care.

And Vlad, who has Batman's in his radar, is wary of Dan Phantom because the kid said he's a ghost living in a clone's body. It wasn't really alive, it was just a body for Dan to live without a problem.

Vlad was seen as a villain after seeing his past actions before. Yes, Batman knows about Plasmius.

But since the day Dan came, Vlad stepped down and started to go on a redemption arc. Batman is still wary though, it's still good to have Dan here so he could monitor both the "son" and Plasmius.

Batman doesn't know about Danny being Dan tho, because Dan said his true age that is somewhere around 20's or something and his ghost half could prove that.

Unless this is another one of those time travelling but Batman will soon find out.

[to-the-all-blue]

A curse turns the crew against Sanji a short time after Wano. It's subtle at first. Subtle enough that he chalks their weird behavior up to WCI. In his mind, he's sure the crew probably just feels uncomfortable around him after he betrayed them. So it doesn't matter that Usopp said something unusually cruel or that Nami threw a glass at him because, well, he understands that he fucked up. And they're his crew, right? He can bear it if that's what they need. Not to mention they're in the middle of the ocean, so it's not like he can leave and give them space.

Then it escalates. Then he's getting hurt. And he starts to realize this is something more. He tries to research it, but the crew won't let him. They gang up on him, making him work nonstop: taking every watch and cooking and repairing the ship and not being allowed to sleep and, and...It doesn't end. If he falters, they punish him. After only a couple weeks of this, he's left exhausted and in pain.

One day it comes to a head. Harsh words turn into a fight which turns into the crew ganging up on him as if he's an enemy combatant and he just can't. He sees them crowd him and he remembers his brothers and he stumbles. He's too exhausted to dodge, too scared of hurting them to fight back. So they get him pinned and are about to finish him off when...

Clarity.

They all wake up, suddenly. The curse is broken and Sanji is nearly dead on the ground between them and they remember.

[alilixx]

Heyy could u write a greg house x reader

Shes a doctor or prob a surgeon and its like season 1 ep 13 , she gets sick and needs a heart transplant or something like that but she doesn’t want to then house convinces her coz he likes her and house lies for her so she can get the transplant and they used to flirt before and all but after that they confess about liking each other and start dating ☺️ thanks

IM SOO SORRYYY SCHOOL STARTED AGAINNN SOO LESS TIME FOR WRITE FANFIC BUT I WILL TRY WRITE FOR EVERY WEDNESDAY AND WEEKEND <33

Surgeon!FemReader x Gregory House

You had already noticed unusual signs for several weeks. At first, it was just fatigue. Nothing more. You convinced yourself it was due to your endless hours in the operating room, those sleepless nights that kept piling up. Just a bit of exhaustion, something every surgeon knows well. But the palpitations intensified, followed by slight dizziness, then that crushing sensation in your chest, as if your own heart was fighting against you. You eventually ran a series of tests, discreetly, hoping it was nothing.

But the results didn’t lie: severe dilated cardiomyopathy. Your heart, your most precious instrument, the one that allowed you to save lives day after day, was betraying you. But you refused to believe it.

Today, as you sat in House’s office, surrounded by his diagnostic team, you were desperately searching for a way out, an alternative explanation. Something that would prove this was all a mistake. After all, you were a doctor, you knew diagnoses were never infallible.

"I want your opinion," you finally said, crossing your arms as if to shield yourself from what was coming next. "I did my own tests, but I want to be sure. Maybe I'm too involved to see things clearly."

House looked up, intrigued by your direct tone. "Too involved? You mean, too much in denial."

Cameron stepped forward to review your results, her eyes scanning every detail. "The echocardiograms clearly show dilatation of the heart chambers. You already have a heart murmur, you’ve felt it, haven’t you?"

You frowned, hesitating to respond. Of course you had felt it. But admitting it would make everything more real.

"I want to believe it’s something else," you murmured, your voice betraying, for the first time, a hint of vulnerability. "I’m a surgeon. I can’t... afford to have a failing heart."

Foreman shook his head, pragmatic as always. "You can’t afford not to act either. If you let this get worse, you won’t even have the chance to enter the operating room next time."

You looked away, your throat tight. Fear was rising inside you, a fear you hadn’t felt in a long time. You had always been able to control everything, every incision, every move. But now, it was your own body slipping through your fingers.

House, as always, wasted no time twisting the knife.

"It’s fascinating. You’d rather believe that all this will resolve itself, as if your heart is just going to miraculously decide to heal. Spoiler alert: it won’t." He tilted his head, scrutinizing your face. "But I’m curious. Why consult my team if you’ve already done the tests yourself? Looking for validation or an excuse to do nothing?"

His sarcasm irritated you, but you knew he was right. "Because I want... I want to be sure."

"Sure of what? That you’re dying? Let me confirm it for you, you are. Now that’s settled, we can move on to the next step: you’re refusing the only solution that could save you because you’re afraid of losing control. Interesting, but not surprising."

"I’m not afraid," you retorted, more to convince yourself than to answer him.

House didn’t believe you for a second. He moved closer, leaning his cane against the edge of his desk.

"You’re lying to yourself." His gaze pierced through yours, as if he could see past all your defenses. "You’ve seen how many transplants fail. But you’ve also seen how many succeed. So why condemn yourself when you know you have a chance to make it?"

Silence fell over the room. His words struck you deeper than you wanted to admit. You had spent months running from this reality, pretending it was just a passing episode. But here you were, sitting in front of specialists who left you no escape. That’s when House chose to play his final card.

"I’m going to ask you a very simple question." He sat back behind his desk, tapping the file of his favorite patient: you. "Do you want to die just to stay loyal to your own arrogance? Or do you want to live long enough to annoy me even more?"

You felt a strange warmth rising to your cheeks. House hadn’t spoken those words with his usual cynicism. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but you knew he genuinely cared about you. And that thought unsettled you more than anything else.

You lowered your eyes to your trembling hands. You were a surgeon, a strong person. Yet, for the first time in a long while, you felt vulnerable. And House had seen it from the very beginning.

The silence in House’s office was heavy after the intense discussion about your condition. The diagnosis was now certain: a heart transplant was your only chance. Yet, one question remained, one that had been haunting you. If you were really going to undergo this operation, there was only one person you trusted enough to put your life in their hands: House.

So, in a rare moment of vulnerability, you took a deep breath and asked the question you had been dreading from the start.

"I want it to be you. You’ll be my surgeon."

The team exchanged stunned glances. House, however, remained silent for a moment, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you. Then he let out a dry laugh.

"Me? No. Bad idea. Very bad idea."

You frowned, stung by his reaction. "Why? You’re one of the best doctors I know."

House straightened up, pressing his cane against the floor before fixing you with an unusually serious look. "I’m not a surgeon. I diagnose. I play with ideas, I take risks, but I don’t hold a scalpel over living patients. I don’t do surgeries."

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He was so confident, so skilled at solving impossible cases, and yet, here in front of you, he seemed hesitant. You stepped closer to him, determined to understand.

"Are you afraid of messing up?" you asked, your voice low but sharp.

House let out a sarcastic laugh, but you sensed a certain nervousness behind his tone. "No, I’m afraid of killing someone because of my damn leg and my trembling hands. If you want someone to do this surgery without screwing it up, ask a real surgeon."

His rejection hurt you deeply. You had opened up to him, and he was pushing you away without a moment’s hesitation. You felt anger rising within you, mixed with the pain of a feeling you didn’t want to name.

"I thought I could trust you," you whispered, your eyes burning with disappointment. "But I see I was wrong."

Before he could respond, you turned on your heels and left the office, leaving House and the team behind. The sound of your footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as you walked towards your own uncertain future. Your heart was pounding painfully, both physically and emotionally. He had rejected you when you had offered him your fragile trust.

A few days later, you found yourself in the pre-op room, your face calm, but your mind in turmoil with conflicting emotions. You had finally accepted the transplant, even though it terrified you. Another surgeon had been assigned for the operation, a competent colleague, but not House. His refusal still haunted you, the abrupt way he had pushed you away, as if your life meant nothing to him.

The medical team busied themselves around you, but all you could hear was a dull hum, lost in your thoughts. An anesthesiologist approached, and as you lay down on the operating table, a strange sense of calm washed over you.

Then, in the haze of preparation, something caught your attention. A voice, familiar, behind the masks and caps.

"Start the anesthesia. We’re going ahead with the transplant."

You weakly opened your eyes. It was House.

Your heart skipped a beat, as if, even before the surgery, he already knew how to unsettle you. You tried to move, to speak, but the anesthesia was already taking effect. Everything became blurry, but you heard his voice clearly, that deep, slightly rough voice that comforted you despite yourself.

"Sleep now, it'll be fine. You’ll be alive to yell at me later."

Then total darkness.

You woke up in a hospital room. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, and you felt a dull ache in your chest. But more than that, you felt your heart beating. A new heart. A strange sensation, both comforting and unsettling.

You slowly turned your head, and to your surprise, you saw House sitting in the corner of the room, his gaze fixed on you. He looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes locked on yours with a new intensity, almost worried.

"I knew you were stubborn, but you really outdid yourself this time," he said, without a hint of humor.

You looked at him, still too weak to speak. Then, slowly, you remembered what had happened before the surgery. He had refused. You had been hurt. But now, he was here.

"You... operated on me?" you finally murmured, your voice hoarse.

House gave a slight nod, avoiding your gaze for a moment. "Yeah. I didn’t really have a choice, apparently. Everyone’s incompetent except me." But there was something else in his voice, an unspoken admission.

You tried to sit up, but the pain in your chest made you wince. House immediately stood up and moved closer to you. "Take your time. Don’t be stupid."

You stared at him, still in shock from what you had just discovered. "Why? Why did you do it when you said you didn’t want to?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because..." He paused, searching for the right words. That wasn’t like him. "Because I couldn’t let another surgeon kill you. If someone was going to save you or lose you, it had to be me."

He looked straight into your eyes, and this time, you saw the fear behind his usual cynicism. The fear of losing you, the fear of failing. It wasn’t just about the surgery, it was about feelings, the ones he didn’t want to admit, but which were so clear in that suspended moment.

"You were scared," you said softly, a slight smile on your lips. House looked away, grumbling. "I’m not afraid of anything. I’m just smarter than everyone else."

But you knew. You knew he had taken this risk because he cared about you, even if he would never say it outright. You placed your hand on his, a simple gesture, but one that spoke for you. And, against all odds, he didn’t pull his hand away.

The days following the surgery were filled with moments of uncertainty and relief. Each steady beat of your new heart was a promise that life would go on, a victory against fate. But something lingered, like a palpable tension between you and House. He came to see you almost every day, always with his usual sarcasm, but something had changed.

That morning, you woke up with the same familiar pain in your chest, but this time it was different — the pain of healing. You slowly sat up in your bed, observing the soft light filtering through the hospital curtains. Your body was still weak, but each day felt like a small victory. And despite the fatigue, you were more clear-headed than ever.

The door to your room opened gently, and of course, House walked in, leaning on his cane with that familiar limp you knew so well. He stared at you for a moment, as if assessing your condition, then casually remarked:

"How’s my favorite patient? Still alive, apparently."

You managed a smile, even though part of you still wondered why he could never be serious for more than a few seconds. "I’m doing well, Greg. And you know it."

He raised an eyebrow at the sound of his name. That wasn’t something you used often. Usually, you always called him "House," like everyone else.

He came closer and sat in the chair next to your bed, letting out a sigh. "Well, that’s good news. I would have hated to explain to the team that I messed up my best patient. That would be bad for my reputation."

You knew he used humor to mask something deeper. A silence settled in, almost comfortable, but filled with unspoken words.

"Why did you decide to operate on me?" you finally asked, breaking the silence. "I hurt you when I asked, but you did it anyway."

House looked away, as he often did when faced with a question that was too personal. He tapped his cane against the floor, searching for words or perhaps a way to sidestep the answer.

"It was a challenge. I couldn’t let another surgeon handle such a complex operation, especially on someone as annoying as you." He smiled, but his gaze betrayed something else, something more sincere. "And I guess I was a little afraid you’d slip away from me."

This confession took you by surprise. You knew House wasn’t the type to openly express his emotions, especially not with such direct words. You watched him in silence, your thoughts swirling. He had taken a huge risk by operating on you, not just medically, but emotionally.

"I’m not going to slip away from you, Greg," you murmured. "Not now."

His eyes settled on you, softer than usual. "Not now," he repeated, almost to himself.

Initially, it was supposed to be temporary. Just long enough for you to fully recover from the surgery, for your body to adjust to the new heart, and for you to be closely monitored, "just in case." House had insisted, almost casually, on this option.

"It would be stupid to leave you alone. If something goes wrong, I’d rather have you in my sight, not on the other side of town," he had said, as if the decision was purely pragmatic.

You had hesitated. Living at House's, even temporarily, seemed risky, given the complexity of your relationship. But somewhere, you felt that beneath his usual cynicism, he genuinely cared about you. So you had agreed, thinking it would last just a few days, maybe a week or two.

The first night at his place was strange. His apartment, which you had visited a few times before, felt more welcoming than you had imagined. A blend of old and modern, of perfectly organized chaos, typical of House. Medical books stacked everywhere, piano sheets scattered about, whiskey bottles casually left on the coffee table. You felt like an intruder in his space, but he made no effort to make you feel otherwise.

"Make yourself at home. I don’t have silk pillows or almond milk, but there’s unlimited Ibuprofen," he had said, settling onto his couch with a glass of whiskey.

That first night was calm. House kept an eye on you from the corner of his gaze, even though he pretended to be absorbed in an old documentary. Despite the strangeness of the situation, a certain serenity had settled in.

The next day, as you began to get used to this new arrangement, someone knocked at the door. You weren’t expecting visitors, especially not this early in the morning. House, already up (for once), went to open it, and you immediately recognized the familiar voice of James Wilson.

"Hey, House, I brought donuts. I wanted to talk to you about a case..." His voice cut off abruptly as he entered the living room and saw you sitting on the couch, a cup of tea in hand.

The silence that followed was almost comical. Wilson looked at you, then at House, then back at you, as if he had stumbled upon a scene he couldn’t quite comprehend.

"What the... ? What are you doing here?"

You gave a slight smile, a bit embarrassed, while House, completely unfazed, grabbed one of the boxes of donuts that Wilson had brought.

"She lives here. Well, temporarily," House replied before taking a bite out of a donut, as if the situation was perfectly normal.

Wilson stood there, speechless for several seconds. "You... you let her live with you? You?"

House shrugged. "It’s easier for post-operative monitoring. And besides, she’s not unbearable. Well, not all the time."

Wilson blinked, still in shock. He slowly sat down on a chair, setting down the other box of donuts. "That... that’s so unlike you, Greg."

"Well, maybe I’ve changed. Or maybe it’s just convenient." House made a dismissive gesture, but you could see that even for him, this situation was still new.

Wilson gave you a questioning look, searching for answers. You simply shrugged, an amused smile on your lips. "It’s temporary, really."

Wilson shook his head, clearly disturbed but also amused. "If you tell me he let you choose a movie last night, I think I’m going to faint."

You laughed lightly, and even House cracked a small smile, despite himself. The tension slowly faded, and Wilson relaxed, even though he continued to shoot you incredulous glances from time to time.

Days passed, and what was supposed to be a temporary arrangement stretched on longer than expected. There was no specific date for your departure, and House didn’t seem in a hurry to see you go. In fact, he even seemed to enjoy your presence, even if he categorically refused to admit it.

One evening, as you settled into the couch with a blanket over your knees, House sat down next to you without a word. He turned on the TV and flipped through channels until he found an old black-and-white movie. It had become a routine: you spent the evenings together, sometimes in silence, sometimes exchanging sarcastic comments about what you were watching.

It was in this tranquility that Wilson made his second appearance at House's place.

"I brought wine," he announced as he walked in, looking noticeably more comfortable with the situation this time.

You smiled, shifting a bit to make room for him. House raised an eyebrow. "Wine? Since when do you bring wine to my place?"

Wilson shrugged. "I thought we could celebrate... I don’t know, this strange normality?" He glanced at you as if to make sure everything was okay.

The evening went off without a hitch. The wine flowed, sarcasm flew, and Wilson, despite his more serious habits, allowed himself to be caught up in the relaxed atmosphere. The movies changed on the screen, but soon it was the discussions that took over.

"I have to say, I’m still surprised you let her stay," Wilson remarked, casting a glance at House.

House, lounging casually on the couch, responded without really looking at Wilson. "It’s not so bad. She doesn’t bother me too much. Unlike you."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "I bring you wine, I do my best not to invade your space, and this is how you thank me."

You laughed, shaking your head. "He doesn’t know how to do anything else, James. You know him."

"That’s true," Wilson replied with a smile. "But anyway, I’m glad you’re recovering well. He seems to be taking good care of you."

You turned to House, who was clearly avoiding your gaze. "He’s doing what he can," you said softly, but with a smile in your voice.

House pretended not to hear, focusing on the television. But in his silences, you could feel that he was getting used to this new life.

Days passed, and what was supposed to be a temporary living arrangement quietly settled into a routine. Little by little, you had begun to integrate into House's daily life, and he, without a word, had allowed you to do so.

One evening, after a long day at the hospital, you got home before him. House had sent you a terse message: "I’ll be late. Bistro operation in the kitchen." You smiled at his words, already imagining what that meant.

Tired but determined not to let it get you down, you began rummaging through House's kitchen cabinets. He had everything, but nothing was in its place. A controlled chaos that, surprisingly, made sense to you. You grabbed some vegetables and an old skillet, determined to prepare something before his return. The kitchen was a place where you could lose yourself in simple tasks, away from the complexities of your work as a surgeon.

A few dozen minutes later, as you were focused on a sauce you were preparing, the door opened. House entered, looking tired but intrigued by the aromas wafting from the kitchen.

"Are you pretending to be a chef now?" he said as he approached you.

You smiled without turning around, continuing to stir the sauce. "I thought it would be a change from pizza boxes and whiskey."

House leaned in slightly to smell what you were making, nodding his head in approval. "I suppose that works for me. But if it’s bad, you’ll hear me complain for days."

You chuckled softly, knowing very well he meant it half-seriously. He made no attempt to push you away from the kitchen; on the contrary, he grabbed a knife and started slicing the bread, his movements precise despite the cane that always lingered nearby.

The scene was almost domestic. House, with his usual sarcasm, and you, focused on your sauce. You didn’t talk much, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a certain peace in these simple moments. You sensed that he was getting used to this new dynamic, even though he was still incapable of admitting it out loud.

"I have to admit," he finally said, slicing a piece of bread, "you’re not doing too badly for a surgeon. Maybe it’s time to change careers."

You gave him an amused look. "You say that now, but just wait until you taste it."

"Oh, I fully intend to critique every bite."

He was smiling slightly, but you could feel the bond growing a little stronger with each shared meal, each simple task completed together.

It had been a long time since you had left the operating room, but you didn’t miss your home at all, and House understood that... well, House is House.

A few weeks later, after several similar evenings, you had finally made official what was happening between you. It hadn’t been a grand romantic declaration, far from it. As with everything involving House, things had evolved naturally, in a sort of unspoken agreement that was becoming clearer and clearer. One evening, as you were both settled on the couch, he had placed his hand over yours, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Do you mind if we drop the ‘temporary’?" he asked, his eyes fixed on the television screen.

You felt your heart race, even though the question was posed in that casual tone that characterized him. You squeezed his hand slightly in response, your smile overshadowing the answer you didn’t even need to say. Indeed, it was his way of asking you to be his girlfriend.

The following Monday, things were different, but not enough to shake up the universe of Princeton-Plainsboro. You had decided to keep nothing hidden, but without making it a topic of conversation. After all, it was impossible to hide anything from House’s team.

Wilson, of course, was the first to react. When he saw you enter the hospital together that morning, he furrowed his brow, an expression somewhere between amusement and surprise.

"So, it’s official? You finally made it official?"

True to form, House simply rolled his eyes. "Officially? If it makes you happy to label it that way, then yes."

Wilson smiled, a little too pleased with himself. "I knew this would happen, but I have to say, it’s impressive that you held out this long before admitting it."

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, amused by the dynamic between the two friends. "He has his moments of resistance," you added jokingly.

But the real test came when you arrived in the diagnostic room, where House’s team was already gathered. Chase, Cameron, and Foreman were discussing a new case, but they all looked up when you walked in together.

Chase was the first to react, his eternal smirk in place. "Oh, I see. That’s why we all stayed until midnight last week. You had ‘personal’ plans."

House stopped, crossing his arms with a piercing look. "You’re right, Chase. And if you keep talking, you’ll end up with the chore of sanding the autopsy room again. Unless, of course, you want to find yourself a social life."

Foreman cracked a playful smile while Cameron seemed half-surprised, half-envious. "So... you’re together?" she asked with a mix of shyness and curiosity.

You exchanged a glance with House. You hadn’t discussed how you were going to handle this with the rest of the team, but it seemed it was already out in the open.

"Yes," you replied simply, with confidence. "We’re together."

Without missing a beat, House added with a smirk, "But don’t worry. It’s not going to affect my desire to make your lives miserable."

You had gotten into the habit of cooking together from time to time, even though House continued to tease you about your culinary skills. You also spent many quiet evenings talking about everything and nothing or simply watching movies in silence.

One evening, as you were chopping vegetables in the kitchen, House approached you and set a glass of wine on the counter.

"Looks like we’ve become boring, huh?"

You laughed softly, setting down the knife. "If that’s what you call boring, I’m perfectly fine with that."

He looked at you, a smile softer than usual on his lips. "Well, as long as you’re okay with it, I guess I can get used to the boredom."

It was the first time he admitted, without sarcasm or dark humor, that he enjoyed this new life together. And you knew that behind his facade was a man deeply attached, even if he showed it in his own way.

[crushedsweets]

Love Bonnie interacting with Toby and Kate, curious on how she'd act with the others. Sorry if this sort of ask was answered before!

You guys flatter me too much . I will self indulgent talk under the cut

ok i havent really thought THAT hard about bonnie in Creeped because 1. i only put her in self-insert OC worlds with my friends 2. she's not that interesting to interact with 3. i'm putting her in place of the hypothetical Y/N i wouldve done for a Creeped visual novel (not dating sim...just visual novel LOL) ....maybe i'll redo this with the ghost bride bonnie i made for a slender mansion AU? she's a lot more interesting

HOWEVER. i think with the main cast it could be kinda funny. cuz bonnies just kinda weird and awkward and difficult to talk to. she's so quick to just go right home.

with Nina, i could see nina fawning over bonnie a little. "your hair color is so pretty do you know how many girls at the salon would kill for this?" "oh my god where did you get that top" "smell my perfume do you like it let me spray you!". bonnie would get overwhelmed and unsure if nina is making fun of her or being genuine, BUT i think the second nina's like "oh yeah im from california too" bonnies like ! OK WE R LIKE THE SAME ! i could see bonnie inviting nina out to a cafe to study but ninas writing fanfic the entire time (unbeknownst to bonnie). bonnie would get along the best with nina, on account of them both being friendly girls with similar interests

With clocky. bonnie would 1000% frequent the restaurant clocky works at, always order the same stack of pancakes, and nothing else comes from it. clocky would be alright with her cuz bon tips well + cleans up her table before leaving (mom was a server so she developed the habit + she's nervous about being a bad guest LOL). BUT . as you can see in the pic. i think it'd be funny if bon immediately called camila(my friends oc) and started going on about "oh my god you wouldve fucking loved my server she was so tall dude come visit me im gonna make you come here" and walked past clocky with a coat so she didnt even realize it was her. dumbass

bonnie would have 0 reason to interact with jack... but bonnie has her issues with ghosts that land her freaking out in forests trying to get away from them. and she'd freak the fuck out if she saw jack, cuz bonnies anxiety/nerves/paranoia is already maxxed out all the time. now imagine a 6'7 grey man in an ominious mask being the only person youve seen in your involuntary hike through the woods after having ghosts swear theyre gonna kill you. shes gonna throw up

she'd have 0 reason to talk to jeff too. they would never be in similar circles(not that bonnie really Has a circle), but. i like the idea of them constantly coincidentally getting stuck on the same train/bus and it being hell on earth. for her, at least. he dgaf. maybe he had plans to kill her one night and started following her and something went wrong and he gave up. dunno

i legit struggle to get in-depth with bonnie and crp characters cuz she's just. so not in their realm. she legit just exists and has bad ghost shit happen to her and is like Guys this is really unfair.

[caws5749]

Nat and reader getting into a heated argument about where they are in the relationship and reader breaks up with Nat, leaving Nat to decide what she wants (getting over her trauma etc) and coming back to reader

LOVING THE CRAZINESS ALREADY

A/N: THIS IS LATE BUT IM DRINKING A BEER AT 230AM AFTER WORK SO DOES IT COUNT AS DWN?????

Promoting: Nothing currently, I took a break this week from fanfic night as I am a tired soul

++++++

She wouldn't define it. Your relationship.

For a few months, you'd understood. Your lifestyles were beyond complicated and unpredictable. And making a relationship official could be dangerous in your line of work. But then you'd seen Steve with Sharon and Tony with Pepper and you couldn't understand why you had to be different.

And so you'd asked.

"Natasha, what are we?"

"We are in bed, detka, together. We care about each other. Isn't that enough?"

You'd valued her, loved her, so much that it was.

And maybe you should have been more forthcoming with what you wanted. But in all other aspects, she was unbelievably right for you.

Natasha Romanoff understood you better than anyone else on the planet, or the universe for that matter, including yourself. She knew what you wanted before you asked, what drove you mad, what you cared most about. She was protective of you, soothed you when you were anxious, and made you all around a better person. Except for that one little part about her not calling you hers.

Eight months in, you simply were unsure what to do. All you knew was that you couldn't keep doing this.

"What's the matter, lyubov moya?" Natasha's gentle voice asked, pulling you from your thoughts as you donned an earring at the vanity.

"Nothing," you replied, forcing a smile. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't say anything. You weren't quite sure what she was thinking, and you were beginning to not care.

The two of you finished getting ready and headed out to dinner. It was a windy, stormy night in October- what normally would have elevated your mood. The restaurant was one of your favorites, but you were hardly hungry. It didn't matter that her hand was on your back, a move of protection and comfort you normally loved. It didn't matter that several people on the sidewalk had commented that you were a lovely couple. Because you weren't, not to Nat.

Upon entering, you weren't quite sure what had happened. You weren't sure what on earth prompted her to say it, or perhaps it was the universe's way of pushing you over the edge.

"My friend and I have a reserv-"

She didn't even get to finish her sentence, you were out the door, the feeling of her hand on your back simply a phantom sensation. The timing was perfect, really, thunder boomed loudly and lightning lit up the sky. You'd barely made it ten feet before it started pouring.

"Y/N!"

You kept walking. You couldn't stop, you wouldn't stop.

"Y/N, please- I-"

You turned, seething, hair plastered to your skin, dress clinging to you like a second skin. "You what?" you breathed, chest heaving.

"I- I didn't mean to-"

"Didn't mean to? Didn't mean to what- tell them we're not a couple? Because we certainly aren't, you have made that abundantly clear. Clear for the last eight goddamn months, Natasha! I won't do it anymore!"

You stopped for a breath, pure terror and regret on the woman's face standing across from you.

"Please," she begged quietly. You'd never heard her sound quite so... small. But whatever was holding her back from you, it wasn't enough.

"We're done. Whatever the hell we even are, whatever it is we've been doing, it's done."

++++++

You hadn't really seen her, funnily enough. Perhaps the timing of it all was another gift from the universe. Natasha had disappeared after the signing of the Accords and you had ended up breaking some of your teammates out of the Raft.

When she showed up at your door in the compound one evening, red hair redder than the last time you'd seen it, you weren't surprised. But you were certainly guarded.

"I love you. I'm not standing here to get you back, I wouldn't put you in that position," she began, eyes shining with truth, confidence, and adoration. "I was terrified of a relationship, of you. I thought I was weak, to want something so... human. I was scared to love you, scared of not being right for you, of being a danger to you. I could not have been more wrong. Tearing the Red Room down, facing my past, it made me realize that there is a strength t all of those things. I never stopped loving you. I never stopped wanting everything with you. And I am sorry." With that final declaration, she turned to leave.

And goddamn it, you simply couldn't let her.

"You are right for me," you said softly, stopping her in her tracks. You'd never associate her with anything other than graceful, yet the way she halted was almost too human for her. "You always were, Natasha."

She stood, staring at you in disbelief and confusion, mixed with a bit of hope.

"You can start by taking me out to dinner," you chuckled. She let that familiar perfect smirk grace her lips, before she grew serious.

"Even if we take it slow, know that you are mine. I have no intention of ever letting anyone believe otherwise."

[dearestzaychik]

Our Forsakened Destiny.

This Fanfic is for those starving Forsaken Fans out there by the way!!

(( same here ngl... ))

[ Forsaken x Isekai'd Reader ]

[ Gender Neutral Reader ]

TW : Cursing, Touching Jokes ( only mentioned once ), DoubleFedora Mentioned but It's not something that will happen during the actual story.

.

.

.

.

[ PROLOGUE ]

READER’S POV.

Clouds up in the skies, in a bustling city during the afternoon as they woke up to the sound of ringing.

“..What time is it already?”

Stated the individual, picking their phone up from the stand as they glanced at the upcoming discord notifications and a call from their friends. Their messages flickering in the channel as the Voice channel looked to be active as well. Looks like Peanut is the most active in the channel as of late.

MENTAL ASYLUM

The NUT :

@Loser101

Join.

Naps :

They might be asleep nut..

The NUT :

at 2 in the afternoon

I don’t think so

Their waking up bc

I said so!

Loser101 :

Boo

Hobo :

Oh my goodness me

Toilet

Menoes :

WAITT THEIR BOTH ALIVE

Hobo :

Im pooping rn

Loser101 :

Hold your horses I jst woke up..

The NUT :

Did you

stay up late..

again

Loser101 :

Yeah…

Menoes :

I think we might have gotten [ Y/N ] addicted to Forsaken..

The NUT :

GOOD

Now join us!!

@Loser101

Naps :

Don’t forget to join VC as well!

Stupid Idiot :

[ Sent an Attachment. ]

Loser101 :

Hold on I still need to get up dawg..

The NUT :

well be quicker

Menoes :

Veen I’m gonna touch you.

Stupid Idiot :

Yeahhh I’m switching out of 07..

Menoes :

WAITT NO I'M SORRY—

Naps :

Oh my days, Just play the game already the match is starting!

[ Message #general ]

.

.

.

Right, Your dear friends. A few days ago, they seemed to pull you into a game called Forsaken on Roblox. Usually, you don't play games such as Roblox, preferring Identity V over games like that. But they somehow pulled you into a Roblox Game that had somewhat of the same mechanics as Identity V, hence the heavy persuasion from Peanut especially.

“Impatient as always.”

You quoted, knowing how impatient Peanut can be. They already seemed to have started before you, but nevertheless they can wait a little longer. After all, you just woke up and you at least needed to get ready for the day.

THIRD PERSON POV.

Getting up from the bed, slipping into your bunny slippers as you walked to the Kitchen. Turning on the Coffee Machine.. It was just a normal day like always, Thankfully there was a Holiday during Friday meant it was gonna be a Long Weekend. You didn’t need to worry about going to work for now, that’s for sure.

Peanut and the others are still waiting, but they wouldn’t mind waiting for a little while longer. Even though you played the game, you didn't know much compared to how the group knew the Techniques and Story for each character. Maybe the basics of the gameplay you definitely grasped, but the Story behind the characters? Not so much. Maybe the simplified version, but even so it's still limited knowledge about the game itself.

Maybe one day you’ll finally find the time to actually start reading and looking into the story itself.

Ding! Seems like the coffee machine is done making your coffee, you can actually start going through your day.

READER’S POV.

As you were about to take a sip of your freshly brewed coffee, a notification rang in the air once more.. Right, Peanut and the others were still waiting for you. As you opened Discord, you didn’t bother to read the messages in the channel as you immediately joined the VC.

“Oh my god… The whole entire server is targeting us at this point!”

Stated Naps, seemingly frustrated at the current situation she had at hand.

“We’re healers, of course they would target us because we are practically a whole healing buffet for the survivors if we keep surviving!”

Meos replied to Naps, At this point not taking everything seriously as he laughed it off.

“Finally, [ Y/N ] joined the vc... Join us right now in Forsaken or else I’m gonna fucking loose it.. I’m about to be killer right now and may Zeus strike me down if I’m lying, I’M GONNA MURDER THIS FUCKING GUEST-”

Peanut suddenly shot out, before muting her mic. She doesn’t usually open her mic unless it's to call something out or rant about a player, either way Peanut is just.. being Peanut.

“Alright, alright.. Just give me a moment to open my PC then I’ll join.”

You, along with Meos and Naps continued to chat in the call as you joined the server. Looks like Veen was in here too, but he didn’t have his mic opened. Either way, you managed to join in time as the Round loaded in, With Peanut being the Killer as Mafioso.. While you played Chance, unable to switch characters either way since you joined as soon as the round started.

“WAIT OH MY GOD THERE’S A 007N7 IN THE ROUND–”

“Meos, No.”

Surprisingly after that whole thing as well as Peanut killing off the Toxic Guest she wanted to kill, The round was a friendly round as Peanut didn’t seem to want to kill anybody else.. Other than the fact that she was approaching you slowly of course.. She shipped DoubleFedora, but was very open to other ships of course. The pinnacle of being a Multishipper..

“No, no, no. Stop being gay...”

Naps stated, trying to body block Peanut away from you, definitely done from Peanut’s shenanigans.. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, this was the usual events that happened during your gameplays with your dear friends. Sadly, Caleb and Debt didn’t seem to be able to play today, but there were still plenty of times to play with them either way.

“Sorry guys, I prefer 1x1x1x1 x Sonic the Hedgehog as my OTP..”

Veen suddenly stated, jumpscaring everybody with how randomly timed he opened his mic. Earning a questionable silence in the voice call before the collection of sudden screams replied..

“..WHAT-”

After the round ended, A Message popped up onto your screen. It quoted..

.

.

[ team c00lkidd join today! ]

- [ YES ]

- [ NO ] [ YES. ]

.

.

“..Guys, do you know what this message is?”

Although it seemed to be somewhat in themed of what you’re playing, considering there was a Killer that was themed around c00lkidd, but you couldn’t help but feel wary about the message. After all, none of your friends ever mentioned a message like this.

“What do you mean by a message? Did someone message you?”

Meos asked, seemingly clueless about the message you received. His tone feigned concern, earning you Naps and the other’s attention as well.

“..No, it's a message box that popped up in the game. It says `team c00lkidd join today`.”

Before you could even get a reply from any of your friends, your PC started crashing as multiple errors seemed to come out while everything else was becoming glitchy and distorted. Your friends tried reaching out, feigning even more concern when you didn’t respond.

“..[ Y/N ]? A—-re yo[] there?—”

“Can yo[] 6ear u—”

The voices of your friends glitching out before an uncomfortable silence lingered in the air, their voices long gone as the only thing you seemed to be able to hear was a static noise coming from your PC. Suddenly, there was a force pulling you in specifically from the Monitor itself. No matter how hard you tried to pull yourself away from it, the harder it was to get out of this predicament. Eventually, the force overpowered your feeble strength as a human, getting sucked inside the Monitor as everything around you seemed to crumble apart and glitch out even more.

You were scared, frightened to say the least. After all, You still had so much to live for. Looking at your hands as you fell into a black abyss, you can see yourself glitching out as well. Although it was painless, it sent a wave of sickness through you. As the further you fell, the more it was a struggle to even open your eyes. The last thing you could see before you passed out was a pop up in red stating..

[ Welcome to your new home. ]

:)

Whether that message was meant to comfort you or not, It definitely didn’t help. Whatever was happening to you, it was far from normal against Human standards if it weren’t so obvious enough. Cursing yourself as you couldn’t open your eyes any longer, succumbing to the abyss that pulled you further and further as your little life was about to take a turn. 

.

.

.

[ ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED. ]

Chapter 1 :

Welcome to Hell.

.

Onto the next chapter..

I'm starving so I decided to cook food myself.. It might look like a bit of a joke first but we can take some jokes then and there! Especially since this is just the prologue :3

NOTES

Right now, this is a small introduction to a series so do hope in mind that everything might not stay the same!

[motherraid]

ABSOLUTELY NOT DONE WITH MY SEBEK THIRST AND I TRULY NEED TO SPEAK ON THIS.

Sebek x AFAB!reader nsfw below the cut:

((Tw: somno(?) Dubcon(?) A bit of bullying and mean names/big boy words/pervy Sebek/dumbification? Maybe? I think?/and ooc sebek maybe im not sure))

We see so much Sebek as either the completely subby pillow prince or a sebek that's SO dominant he's like some mafia boss in a wattpad fanfic? It's all wonderful, don't get me wrong. But is that ALL we wanna reduce sebek to? D:

I absolutely CAN see and DO see most times where he's just subby and whimpering and crying, and it IS accurate, but it's not ALL that could happen! We need to start changing! it! up!! He's still Sebek for crying out loud! He'll end up having you crying and spaced out on his cock regardless of how bad you wanna ruin him.

Hear me out, pervy Sebek.

Okay, maybe when you aren't together yet he's mean and snarky, referring to you as "human" and pretending to hate your guts like always, but he'll still try to find excuses to perv on you!!!!! He's so enraptured that he can't help it.

Sebek's so needy that accidentally grazing your hand too high up his arm is a sin you need to repent for it with your pussy. You'd find yourself stuffed in an old broom closet or empty classroom in a heartbeat. He just can't take it anymore. He's already spreading your lips with two fingers and using his other hand to hold your hip in place, your ass squished firmly against the cold wall behind you and your skirt in a heap at your ankles. Who else have you been seducing while he wasn't around? He will not stand for your lecherous ways! He must protect his fellow classmates! The only way to do that is to make you cream on his tongue so many times that you can't think straight. Then, you'll be too tired to prey on any more poor, defenseless students at Night Raven College. Yank his hair, and that's another five minutes of him playing with your pretty cunt. Don't test him, harlot.

Your panties he'll be taking. Probably some lame excuse about your "punishment" for coming onto him like a shameless whore. But... We all know that by the time he gets back to his room in Diasomnia, he's soo horny from the anticipation. He wants to savor the moment, but before he can even pull his pants down he gets a whiff of you once he takes your panties out of his pocket. Now people can hear him mewling while he creams his pants through the walls.

"AND WHAT IF WE'RE TALKING ABOUT SEBEK THAT'S IN A RELATIONSHIP??!!! D:" I hear you ask (no one asked me anything. I'm delusional).

He still will not take no for an answer. He's not going easy on you just because you've won his heart. He is more gentle when initiating, but he still won't drop the "you need to be punished" bit. You've riled him up (you blinked in his general direction), and you have to take responsibility for your actions. He thinks, anyway... Everything is kinda fuzzy, so he can't really process the words coming out of his mouth right now. Sebek doesn't know whether he just cried that you're a horrible temptress or begged you to sit on his face.

Oh, and dont get me STARTED on the crocodile tears. Where's the Sebek that snivels with tears in his eyes while he's ramming his cock into you? Where's the Sebek that's so lost he disjointedly drawls into your shoulder about how you're so pretty and warm?? About how he can't stop himself? How you feel too good for him to stop??? Just one more round? Please?? Where's the Sebek that squeals and sobs when he's stuffed you with his cum for the umpteenth time?? Orgasm so intense his eyes cross and toes curl??? Nose buried in your hair and inhaling hard cause he can't get enough of your smell????? YOU'RE the one getting stuffed with his cock, bent and twisted every which way over any furniture or solid surface he can find at the time, so why is HE the one whining and moaning like a whore?

YES!! He is awkward and has no idea what he's doing, but after a while, he's so desperate he just.. Doesn't care. He's gets so erratic and clingy, and it's such whiplash from how proper and uptight he normally acts in public it's insane.

I need to see this boy's fae genes take over. I need to see this boy instinctively feel the need to have you bouncing on his dick all throughout your fertile window. His big dumb crocodile brain can't understand anything other than stuffing you full of his little hatchling(s).

And he would never curse at you once you two are together!! He'll only praise you. He'll tell you how much he loves you, how amazing you are, and how good you feel. He's got too much love to give, and he wants you to give him your love, too. So please sweet talk and praise him. He'll nut instantly. Even if it doesn't mean he'll stop slipping back into you after cumming all over the backs of your thighs. Praise him. Please?

He can't help it. He HAS to have you. It gets so bad he wants to start fucking you almost anywhere. Like a disgusting wild animal. Even if you WANT to take charge or ride him? He gets so carries away he just grabs your hips and snaps up into you over and over. Sorry babe, you can't tame the croc right now. Do you want to be in control? It's such a shame. Really is. Once you've riled him up enough, he goes into big dumb crocodile mode. And in big dumb crocodile mode he'll forget everything and fuck you like a fleshlight. Sorry, I don't make the rules.

But don't think YOU'RE the one being fucked stupid. This boy is a pile of mush on top of you!! He's mid hiccup, muttering how much he loves you into your ear, sobbing and slobbering onto the back of your neck. His jabbering is oddly sweet for someone bent over your ass, hips slamming yours so forcefully you're jerked forward with every thrust (or you WOULD be if his big ass wasn't smushing you into the mattress with his weight because he just DOESN'T have the strength to hold himself up with his arms or grab your hips right now. The most he can do is prop himself up on one elbow).

You're trapped underneath a giant who loves you so much he's unconsciously using you like a sex doll. After a certain point in time this boy's mind is so cloudy he's not even fucking you for your pleasure. He just can't stop. It feels too good and his hips are moving on their own and he's too far gone to consciously still them. He's so pathetic he can't even find your clit. His hand is just rubbing at the bottom of your tummy in circles on instinct, and he does NOT care to correct himself. You'll have to do that for him, sorry.

You can definitely tell that boy is half fae. His stamina is WELL beyond normal humans. Even now that you've blacked out, he still has yet to stop. In fact, he doesn't realize you're asleep. He's still crying about "one more round," "Just a bit more.. Please??" And, "A few more minutes." And best believe you're gonna help the damn boy. I mean, how are you REALLY going to refuse him now that you're asleep anyway??

Huh... Actually... Maybe he DOES know that you're asleep.. I don't think he'd be guiltily snapping pictures of your unaware face to jerk to later otherwise.

[illyrianslut]

In His Arms - Azriel x Reader

Summary:

Isla went to Velaris with Rhys after UTM, but quite frequently has nightmares about what was done to her. Azriel is always there to aide when he can.

Warnings: (These will be chapter by chapter) nightmares, mention of past abuse

Word Count: 2.9k

Author's Note: (I totally changed this from an OG character to Y/N) This is part 1/?. This is my first ACOTAR fanfic! I've been writing fanfic for 13 years (fuck im old), so I'm super excited to finally be posting in the ACOTAR fandom<3 Ao3 Link

Masterlist | Ao3

 “Please don’t make me do this.” I beg, glancing between Amarantha and Rhysand. The fear forming in my stomach like a brick. “I’ll do anything else, please My Queen, I beg of you.” Amarantha’s grin only grows wider at my plea. Rhysand’s face is stone cold, hatred burns through me as I realize what’s about to happen.

“Search her, now.” Amarantha hisses at Rhysand. For the briefest of seconds pity seems to cross his face, but it’s gone in a second when I feel him begin digging through my thoughts.

​Memories of the fae I’d been sneaking out fill my mind, their faces and names being run through so quickly I can barely process it myself. Pretend this hurts. A thought that feels my own, but somehow belonging to someone else fills my mind. But I trust the thought, and bring myself to my knees letting out a pained scream.

Part of my acting feels real, the invasion of my privacy and the fear of what Amarantha will do to me once she finds out evokes a very real reaction from me. She is going to kill me.

“Well Rhysand?” She beckons, a bored almost annoyed tone surrounding her question. “Have I found my traitor?” The itch in my mind ceases, and something tells me now it is time to end my performance.

Rhysand watches me for a moment, almost like he is deciding something. But then he shakes his head “No.”

Amarantha’s head snaps from me to him. “What do you mean no?” She hisses “I’ve been informed that she” Another sharp glance in my direction “has been helping other slaves to escape.” I hate that word.

“You’ve been informed wrong, she has no knowledge on the escaped slaves.” Rhysand tells her calmly, his neutral expression still on me. “You should bring the liars in at once to be questioned.” Rhysand sounds bored, almost annoyed that he’d even been brought here. I stand up slowly, looking between Rhysand and Amarantha trying to figure out what was going on. Is he lying for me? Why would he do that?

A hum from Amarantha, I glance up at her on her dais realizing that I may get out of this situation alive. Maybe not unharmed, but at least alive. Thanks to Rhysand, Amarantha’s whore. His gaze snapped to me, a look of annoyance. I just saved your life, do you think it’s wise to be using those words right now? Rhysand’s voice floods my mind and I have to hold back the fear shooting through me, that he had heard me.

“I suppose you’re right. Twenty lashings for the girl so she knows to keep her mouth shut about the escapees. And make sure they leave a mark so everyone knows.” Amarantha sounds proud of herself at the idea.

“No!” I shriek, whipping my head to the Attor who is stalking towrds me, an evil grin spread across his disgusting face. “Please, don’t do this My Queen! I will keep quiet, please!” I beg just as the Attor grabs my arm to hold my in place for my punishment.

My shirt is ripped off by the Attor, and a leather whip appears in his hand. “I’ve been waiting to see you break.” He whispers in my ear.

I shoot up in bed, a scream escaping my lips at the memory of my first real interaction with Rhysand. I can still feel the burn of the twenty strikes inflicted on my back. “It’s over.” I remind myself, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

A hurried knock comes from my door, Azriel surely as we are the only two currently residing in the townhouse. “Sorry Az, I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me.” I call, scolding myself for waking him.

“May I come in?” He asks, sounding distressed from the other side of the door.

“Yeah come on in.” My chest is still heaving slightly from the adrenaline, but I know he wont rest until he knows I’m really okay.

He opens the door and I take in his disheveled hair, worried expression and then much to my personal satisfaction, his shirtless body. He may be one of my best friends, but I would be blind to not notice how beautiful this man is. “Hi.” He says gently, looking me over as if assessing for physical injuries.

“Hi.” I smile up at him as he walks closer to my bed.

“May I sit?” He gestures to my bed, and I scoot over leaving a space for him to sit beside me. “Did you have a bad dream?”

I give him a nod and sigh, getting ready to spill my guts. “It was when I first met Rhys.” My voice shakes, despite how hard I’m trying to pull myself together. I think of the twenty raised marks staining my back and feel the tears well in my eyes. “Sorry, I know it’s dumb to cry over it still.” I insist, wiping at the tears just as they begin to spill out.

His expression shifts at my admission. Rhys and I had made a promise to each other when we got out that we wouldn’t talk about what we went through with the others. But there were times when it felt impossible to not talk about those things. “I know you wont tell me, but I am here for you. If you ever need to talk about what you went through. I know Rhysand made you promi-”

“No.” I stop him, it wasn’t Rhys’s idea to promise anything. It had been mine, but he seemed a lot better at keeping his secrets in than I ever had been. “Rhys didn’t make me. It was my idea, Az. It’s just, sometimes I want to word vomit everything I did and went through. But I know it wouldn’t fix anything.” It was the truth, it’s the only thing holding me to that promise with Rhys.

Of course he had shared a lot, probably everything if I’m honest, with Feyre. But that’s different, she’s his mate. Maybe one day if I ever find my mate I would feel different, but cauldron knows how rare a mating bond is.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” Azriel frowns, “I just meant-” He shakes his head, but when he looks back his eyes land on a scar wrapped around my shoulder. I freeze, and feel a twinge of panic in my stomach, but I focus on his shadow that rises slowly to the scar and caresses it gently. I can’t help but think of the first time he saw my scars, and how angry he had been.

~

The Summer Court had been just as beautiful as Feyre had described, maybe even more so. But I still can’t help the excitement of seeing Azriel for the first time in two weeks. He is by far my closest friend, much to Mor’s annoyance, and two weeks without him was hard.

Knowing that he wont be home at this hour, I decide to bathe and get the sweat from being in perpetual summer off my body. My room is just as I left it, and I can’t help but smile at the lights turning on as I walk in. Home.

I tear my shirt off, tossing it to the ground and heading for the attached bathing room. I’m attempting to pull my pants off when my door swing open, and a stunned Azriel is on the other side. In my shock I don’t know which part of my body to sheild from him, so I threw one arm over my boobs, and turn away from him.

The second I do it I hear the audible gasp from Azriel, and my body goes cold. “Get out!” I yell, tears filling my eyes, knowing Azriel has now seen the worst part of me.

“Who did this to you?” His voice sends a chill down my spine, but I still can’t bring myself to move in my frozen state.

“Azriel. Get. Out!” I hiss, feeling my body begin to shake. I’m going to be sick. I run to the bathing room, in an attempt to get away from his line of sight. Why isn’t he leaving?

“Y/N. Who did that.” I’ve never heard his tone like this, filled with such venom. His shadows enter the bathing room, and my shirt is dropped next to me. Before I can throw it on, the shadows begin roaming over my back as if exploring the raised skin.

The Attor’s wicked grin fogs my memory, and I can hear my pulse in my ears. The whipping sound fills my ears, the smell of the leather surrounds me. Rhys. And my back, I can feel the scars burning like it’s happening all over again.

Arms wrap around me, making me I feel like I’m floating. I look up to see Azriel looking down at me, fear flooding his eyes. “Y/N, talk to me. Can you hear me?” His voice sounds far away, like it’s being covered by the sound of the cracking whip, but I nod anyway.

I can feel the shaking, my whole body is shaking but I can’t stop it. “Y/N what can I do? I’m so sorry.” I’m set down onto something soft, but I instantly miss the warmth his body had been providing. My body feels void of warmth right now, ice cold. It doesn’t help the shaking.

Everything is going to change now.

“I need R-Rhys.” I hear a broken voice say. Was that me?

Hurt flashes through his eyes for the quickest of seconds but the next thing I remember is Rhys and Feyre being there. Azriel is gone. “Y/N. You need to breathe.” I hear a familiar voice instruct. I look around, attempting to figure out who, but they’re both just looking at me expectantly. “Can you hear me?” Is the voice above me?

I look up and realize I am wrapped tightly around Azriel’s waist. I nod, I can hear him. “Breathe. You aren’t breathing.” I pity the sadness haunting his beautiful face, am I causing that?

“What happened exactly?” I hear Feyre’s voice, but she sounds so far away. I turn to look where she had been and she’s still there. Why is everyone so far away?

“I-I didn’t meant to. I didn’t know she was home. I came in and she was-” Azriel pauses when I turn my attention to him. No. He can’t tell her. Nobody can know. “Changing.” He finishes.

“Oh.” Rhys tone changes. I glance at him, pleading silently that he wont make me, make us, relive that moment again. I begin shaking my head quickly, hoping he will understand my plea. “I understand, Az I think I can handle this.”

Azriel’s body stiffens in my arms “I’m not leaving her.” Suddenly the harsh tone from earlier is back, and I feel an arm tighten around my shoulders. Az? I turn my head to look at the hand and see his scarred hand rubbing gently. “Don’t you dare ask me to leave her while she’s like this.” Rhys looks to Feyre, clearly having a silent conversation.

I only focus on Az’s hand, willing the comfort of it to bring me back to the present fully.

“Azriel, will you come with me? I think this may be one of the times Rhys and Y/N need just each other.” Feyre looks at Azriel, pity written all over her face.

Just as Azriel is about to say no, Rhys looks to him with the face of the High Lord of the Night Court. “Azriel. You’ve done enough here, now go.” Just like that, the hand that had been bringing me comfort is gone, and I am being unwrapped from him. Then I watch him walk out of the room with Feyre, looking back at me like I’m broken.

I curl into a ball on the bed, soaking in the warmth from where he had been. I didn't want him to leave. I wanted him here. Buy why? “Was it your back he saw?” Rhys asks, his voice breaking ever so slightly.

~

Two years had passed and we had never spoken of what happened that day again. He still doesn’t know who caused those scars. I’m sure he has made his assumptions, but we both knew I wasn’t ready for that conversation. Assuming I ever would be.

“I just meant that you can talk to me if you ever want to, is all” He finishes his sentence, glancing back at the visible scar.

I reach to the end of the bed and grab the throw blanket there, wrapping it around my back to hide the scars that show with this damn top. The shadow that had been settling over the scar drifted back to him, hovering at his ear for a moment before dropping away.

“Are they giving up all my secrets?” I try to laugh, but truth be told there’s a part of me that is worried they’ll somehow know just from touching it who caused those marks.

“They enjoy you too much to tell me your secrets.” I can feel the truth behind his words, his soft smile is reassuring. “As much as I want to know Y/N you have to know I would never invade your privacy like that.” He almost sounds as though he is begging me to agree with him.

“I know you wouldn’t.” I admit, “I wasn’t so sure about these ones.” I giggle when the shadows reach out, and hover around my hair- their preferred location to situate on me.

I can feel the oncoming panic attack begin to subside in his presence. “Was it a dream of what happened,” He pauses for a moment “Under the Mountain?”

I chance looking him in the eye, his gaze is already fixed on my face and I can’t help but blush at the intensity. “Yes.” I admit, looking away.

“Will you tell me about it?” I know he doesn’t mean to pressure me, that it’s not his intention. But the idea of actually telling someone about what I went through down there? It sends a shiver down my spine.

“I want to, Az. I just can’t.” I finally say after a few heartbeats of silence.

“Will you ever?” The question catches me off guard, he sounded so desperate, almost like he was pleading with me to trust him with the most private part of my life.

“I don’t know, I’ve just always told myself that I wouldn’t talk about it with anyone. I mean maybe if I ever mated someone, but it’s a lot, Az. If I told you, you would never see me the same.” I feel bad avoiding the no I want to say, but I also don’t know if I would mean it. There might come a day that I trust myself enough to open up, but I can’t chance him hating me. Not yet.

“Y/N, mated couples are rare, and you know it. What’s your plan keep it to yourself for the rest of your life?” I play with a tendril of shadow that’s hovering around my fingers. When I look up to meet his gaze again I almost break. I know he wants to help me with what I went through, but I’m just not ready.

“I’m not ready Az, but if I ever am I promise it’ll be you I come to.” The corner of his mouth rises slightly.

“That’s all I can ask for, I suppose. Are you going back to bed?” The question catches me off guard, but I shake my head.

“I can’t ever fall back asleep after I’ve had a nightmare. I’ll probably be up for the day.” I shrug at the inconvenience of it. It’s become a semi regular occurrence, usually a couple times a month.

“It’s hardly past midnight, are you sure? Why don’t you lay down? I’ll stay in here with you.” I cock my head at his suggestion, but it may not be the worst idea. “I’ll sit over there, I lost a bet with Nesta the other day anyway. I have to read one of her books.” He chuckles, nodding his head to the chair in the corner of my room.

“No Az, uh” I only give the thought a moment before it’s out of my lips. “just lay in bed with me. You being here probably will help, but there is no sense in chancing both of us not sleeping tonight.” What did I just say? My eyes widen at the offer I’d just extended. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with that I guess.” I rub the back of my neck.

He gives me my favorite Azriel smile, his goofy grin that meets his eyes. “Deal. Lay down.” He nods behind me.

I take the blanket off my shoulders, avoiding his gaze as I do so, and lay down facing him. “Your turn, Spymaster.” I tease, knowing he hates when I call him that. But he obliges, laying down draping his wings behind him.

Without either of us saying a word, the lamp that had turned on when he entered the room goes out. The moonlight filtering through the window gives me a clear view of him.

I can’t see them, but I feel his shadows hovering over the scarred shoulder that shown with my tank top. “You do know I will ruin whoever did that to you, don’t you?” He whispers, his fingers reach out and gently brush over the scarred skin.

That’s what I’m afraid of.

[uceyliyahh]

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4182

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @luvrsluxe @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld

19.

YASMINE It's been a few weeks since Jey and I returned from our honeymoon, which coincided with Royal Rumble weekend. Jey has fully recovered from his injuries and is ready to reclaim his title from Carmelo. Meanwhile, I’m still holding onto the women's world championship, which I've proudly maintained for 668 days now—something I never expected.

Today was strange for me; I just didn't feel right, and on top of that, my period didn't arrive, which made me worry. I tried to eat, but everything just made me feel nauseous, and that was when I realized something was definitely off.

I could only manage to eat brown rice with a bit of chicken, as it was the only food that settled well with me. Anything else, especially if it had a strong smell, would make me feel nauseous. I really needed to discuss this with Bianca and Trinity.

While we were all gathered in the catering area enjoying some food, I found myself preparing a meal for myself. It was a bit disheartening because my favorite dish was available at the catering table, but I couldn't eat any of it. Eventually, we all settled down at the table together. I opened my lunch bag, revealing the warm brown rice and chicken I had brought, and started to eat.

"Girl, you've been eating that for the last couple of weeks ever since you came back from your honeymoon." Bianca said wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"I can't eat anything else without throwing it up B, so this is what I got for right now," I said as her and Trinity looked at each other then back at me.

"When was the last time you had your period?" she asked as I shrugged my shoulders, "maybe last month or so,"

They exchanged glances once more, and then she asked, "Minks, are you pregnant?" My heart raced at her question. Could it really be true? The thought sent a wave of disbelief through me. Was this the reason for my recent nausea and those bouts of vomiting?

"I don't know...we have to get a pregnancy test to see if I'm pregnant,"

"Girl if I find out Jey done knocked you up, Montez is goin to flip,"

"Not even that his ass might pass out in the ground,"

After we finished our lunches together, we all agreed to go to the store so I could pick up a pregnancy test, just to confirm that I wasn't expecting. Bianca and Trinity patiently waited by the stall while I took the test.

I exited the bathroom stall and noticed the two of them standing there with their arms crossed over their chests. I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me as I realized we had to wait for five long minutes. I turned away, not wanting to face the outcome.

Bianca gasped as she flipped over the pregnancy test, showing it to Trinity. Five minutes felt like an eternity, and for a moment, I was filled with worry.

"What does it say?" I inquired, sensing my anxiety beginning to rise within me.

"Bitch, you're fucking pregnant!" She yelled as I covered her mouth while rolling my eyes.

I took the pregnancy test from her hands, and as I saw the two lines, I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. I covered my mouth in shock, realizing that I was going to have his baby. A rush of joy filled my heart, but I couldn't shake the worry about how he would react.

My brother's response when he learns that his younger sister is expecting is particularly noteworthy.

"How are you feeling Minks?"

"I'm happy honestly I'm just worried about him and how he would feel about it," I said as Trinity patted me on my back.

"Joshua loves children I promise you he will be happy about this," I gave her a smile on my face as they both hugged me saying how they were going to be aunties causing me to chuckle at them.

✧˚° After my interview with Cathy, I needed to head over to Paul's office to discuss my current situation. I was still able to wrestle, but I knew those weeks would fly by quickly. It was important for me to have a plan in place for when that time comes.

Paul expressed his happiness for me about the baby news and reassured me that I could continue wrestling for now. However, he mentioned that I would need to pass my title to someone who truly deserves it while I'm away, which is going to be an emotional experience.

I exited Paul's office and ran into Jonathan, who greeted me with a warm hug before we started chatting. "Hey, Minks! What brings you to Paul's office?" Jonathan inquired.

Damn I realize that I gotta tell Jon about him being an uncle hope he doesn't tell Jey about it.

I let out a deep sigh, and I could see the worry etched on his face, likely assuming it was about Carmelo, but that wasn't the reason at all. "Jon, I'm pregnant."

He stared at me in disbelief, his face a mix of surprise and confusion, urging me to say again what I had just mentioned about him while I stood with my hands resting on my hips.

"I'm pregnant, Jonathan," I said.

"See I knew it! I knew he was going to knock you up during y'all little getaway," he said as a knocked him upside his head causing him to wince in pain. "You ain't have to do allat minks damn,"

I chuckled at him, "well you need to stop being so messy sir, and please don't tell Joshua about this until I see him okay?" He nodded his head while giving me hug saying that he couldn't wait to be an uncle.

I haven't had a chance to see my partner at all today. He’s likely been caught up with everything, especially with the ongoing rivalry with Melo for the IC championship. I can only imagine how much pressure he’s under right now.

"Does Tez know about this?" He asked folding his arms over his chest.

I shook my head, wishing he was unaware. Knowing Bianca, she would spill everything, especially if it involved me—after all, I was the little sister.

"Nah, he doesn't know. But he will find out eventually through Bianca, so I'm not surprised," I responded.

"So, how do you feel about this? Becoming a mommy?"

Becoming parents is a completely new experience for both Jey and me, especially as we navigate this journey while working together in our business. I can't help but feel a bit anxious about the idea of being at home while he’s out on the road, especially considering our shared history and everything we've been through.

"I want to be open with you, Jon. I’m feeling really anxious about everything right now. The thought of being at home while your brother is out on the road is unsettling for me. I can’t shake off the fear of ending up in a situation like I did a year ago." I still remember how I felt in the hospital, wishing for an escape after Jey cheated on me with Liv. It’s hard to think about, especially since we weren’t even together then.

I find myself in a wonderful place, expecting a child and happily married. It's truly a blessing, even though I had some mixed feelings about it at first.

Jonathan gave me a reassuring pat on the back, draping his arm over my shoulder. "You need to hear this: Jey has really transformed since those days. Just look at where you both are now—a married couple on the verge of welcoming a little one into your lives. I truly believe Jey wouldn’t hurt you like that again, especially with all the effort he’s been putting in." He had a point; Jey had been demonstrating his growth ever since we reunited, and it was clear he was determined to keep me close.

"Yeah, maybe you're right Brother."

"I know I'm always right that's why they call me Big Bruh for a reason," I rolled my eyes at him while shoving him lightly in the process

As I started to walk toward my locker room after saying my goodbyes, I received a text message from Jey.

Joshua🤍 sent a message

Joshua🤍: hey, mamas. wya I've been looking for you, come holla at me in my locker room.

I made the choice to go to his locker room instead of my own. I really hoped that Bianca and Trinity hadn’t spilled the beans about my pregnancy, as that would completely spoil the surprise. As I was making my way there, I ran into Melo. We exchanged glances, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him before continuing on to Jey's locker room.

Upon my arrival, I knocked on his door, anticipating his response. As I stood there, I suddenly heard the sound of two people arguing behind me. I assumed it was Liv and Dom once more, and to my astonishment, it turned out to be them.

It appears they were at it again, arguing about Tiffany. I have to admit, it brought me some joy to see Liv facing her karma. I could sense that Dom was growing weary of the situation; their disagreements seemed to happen almost every week.

I got a bit sidetracked, but then I noticed the door swing open, and there he was—my handsome husband, shirtless, wearing his Cuban link chain and grills. His smile always lights up the room; he never fails to look amazing.

He opened the door for me and closed it gently as he approached. With a warm embrace, he wrapped his arms around my waist and tenderly kissed my shoulder.

"I've been missing you all day mama, they got my ass working," Jey said as I chuckled at him.

I spun around to look at him, wrapping my arms around his neck as I took in his striking features. "You're definitely going to reclaim your title from Melo, so it's no surprise they're putting in the effort with you, sir," I said, receiving a sweet kiss in return.

"Have you been doing alright, sweetheart? Trin and B mentioned that you haven't been feeling your best." My heart sank a little as I thought about it—why did they have to phrase it that way? It felt too direct. I really wanted to keep this under wraps until we got home or until the Royal Rumble when I reveal who I'm handing my title to.

"Yeah, I'm just under the weather right now that's all but I'll be fine," Jey was aware that I wasn't being truthful, and I hesitated to share the real reason for my claim of feeling unwell and my limited diet of just chicken and brown rice.

He shot me a glance filled with understanding as I complained to him in frustration.

"You know you can tell me anything right?"

"Yeah, I know I'm not hiding anything pumpkin. I promise I'm okay," I reassured him as he nodded his head in approval leaning in for another kiss.

Before we could do anything else we heard the door knocking hearing Jon's voice coming from behind it.

"Uce! C'mon dawg we got an interview with Cathy!" He shouted which made Jey roll his eyes at his brother's statement.

"Well duty calls princess I'll see you after?" Jey said as I nodded my head.

I watched him head off to spend time with his brother, listening to their playful bickering as they left the room. It was such a classic display of sibling rivalry, really.

I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket and realized that Bianca had sent me a message.

IMESSAGE 💬 Breezy🫶🏽: did you tell him yet? Minnie🧃: no but he almost catched on when you and Trinity decided to tell him that I wasn't feeling well Breezy🫶🏽: we were only throwing hints around that's all but when are you going to tell him? Minnie🧃: when we get home and I'll just tell him I have a surprise for him Breezy🫶🏽: I knew yall would have kids before us Minnie🧃: Jon has children yk and they're grown Breezy🫶🏽: well let's exclude them out then Minnie🧃: does Montez know? Breezy🫶🏽: he put two and two together when he found out that you've been eating chicken and brown rice over the past couple of weeks so. Minnie🧃: I'm surprised his ass didn't pass out from the news Breezy🫶🏽: he almost did actually finding out his little sister is pregnant now Minnie🧃: he'll get over it besides he'll he a great uncle Breezy🫶🏽: we gotta start planning your baby shower and stuff Minnie🧃: damn can my stomach get big before we plan things B? Breezy🫶🏽: you right my fault 😭😭 Minnie🧃: that auntie fever getting to you B Breezy🫶🏽: whatever girl 😭😭 but I'll text you later okay? Minnie🧃: kk byee girly

✧˚°

uceyjucey, biancabelairwwe, MontezFordWWE, and others liked your post.

minnieminks: Something Special For U ❤️ uceyjucey: damn mamas 😩 minnieminks: @ uceyjucey all yours Papa 😛 biancabelairwwe: ouuuu girl I know Jey is so lucky to have a wife like you fr 😭😭 minnieminks: @ biancabelairwwe you already know girl MontezFordWWE:  look at my baby sis 🫶🏽 minnieminks: @ MontezFordWWE finally you got something new to say instead of complaining 🙂‍↕️ trinity_fatu: SISTERRR EATING YALL UP trickwilliams_wwe: I think Melo misses this minnieminks: @ trickwilliams_wwe that nigga misses every single time don't pmo 😀

Read all Comments

OMNISCIENT Yasmine wrapped up her evening photoshoot and felt it was time to go home, as she wasn't feeling her best. As she made her way to her car, she suddenly heard someone calling her name. To her astonishment, it was Trick, her old best friend. She let out a deep sigh and rolled her eyes at the unexpected encounter.

He reached out to embrace her, but she gently pushed him back, her face set in a serious expression. She simply didn’t have the energy to handle his nonsense, especially since she wasn’t feeling well right now.

"What you want Trick?" Yasmine questioned him.

"damn girl, I was tryna holla at you but you acting different." Trick said as Yasmine scoffed at him.

"Me? Acting different? Nigga you the one who was acting different after bro believing me so don't say I'm acting different," she said while folding her arms around her chest.

Trick stood with his hands on his hips, letting out a sigh of frustration. He wished Yasmine could somehow move past what had happened to her, but he understood that it was impossible for her to forget something that had left such deep scars and affected her so profoundly.

"C'mon now minks that was in the past can't you just leave it alone?"

Yasmine let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief, "you must be fucking stupid? How the fuck can I forget at let something go like that? god you're even worst that Melo, you know what I got things to do at home ion got time for your bullshit," Yasmine opened her car door and climbed in, firmly shutting it behind her as she turned on the engine.

"Minks c'mon mane, just give him another chance."

"I will jump off a cliff if I ever gave him another chance bye trick," Yasmine drove off leaving Trick dumbfounded.

Yasmine was taken aback that, of all the people she could have chosen as her best friend, she ended up with him. It felt overwhelming, especially with the added stress of expecting a child. She really didn’t need this right now.

Yasmine couldn't shake her doubts about becoming a mother, especially with Jey constantly on the road. Their time together was limited to his rare days off, and then it was back to his travels. She wrestled with concerns about him being unfaithful while he was away, but deep down, she trusted him and believed he would never betray her.

Yasmine finally arrived home, pulling into the driveway and switching off her car. As she gathered her belongings from the backseat and walked toward the door, she heard Ella barking excitedly at the window. A smile spread across her face as she opened the door, greeted by Ella's enthusiastic welcome.

She stepped into the house, gently closing the door behind her. After setting her belongings on the couch, she turned her attention to Ella. Lifting her up, she was met with a flurry of affectionate kisses and playful licks on her face. As she petted Ella's head, she made sure to give her those beloved scratches that always brought joy.

She realized that Jey would likely be home shortly, so even though she wasn't feeling her best, she chose to prepare dinner for him. Gently, she set Ella down on the floor and reached for her bowl, then opened the cabinet to fetch the dog food. Yasmine filled the bowl with the chicken-flavored kibble and placed it on the ground for Ella, making sure to add some fresh water as well.

Yasmine carefully returned the bag to the cabinet before opening the fridge to gather her ingredients for dinner. She had chosen to prepare steak accompanied by asparagus and homemade sweet potato fries, a recipe she had learned from her mother.

She realized that the smell would be overwhelming for her, but she felt it was necessary to push through, especially since he would be coming home soon, likely craving a hearty meal.

Yasmine started by seasoning her steaks before putting them in the pan to cook on the stove. She had also prepared the asparagus, making sure to pat them dry, and was busy making her delicious homemade sweet potato fries.

biancabelairwwe replied to your story: you in the kitchen cookin up something for your man I know he gonna love that when he gets home MontezFordWWE replied to your story: MINKS LET ME COME OVER jonathanfatu replied to your story: so invitations to your crib when? 😀 uceyjucey replied to your story: tryna make sure I'm eating mamas? damn that looks good trickwilliams_wwe replied to your story: I remember when you used to cook for Melo like this such a shame trinity_fatu replied to your story: girrrrrl you cookin it up in there

Yasmine was busy preparing dinner when she heard the door creak open behind her, a clear sign that Jey had returned from work. She could hear Ella barking excitedly at him. Moments later, she felt Jey's warm presence as he approached from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a gentle kiss on her shoulder.

She turned to him, her beautiful smile lighting up her face, the one he adored. As she pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, he nestled his neck against her shoulder, watching her prepare dinner with a sense of warmth and affection.

"How was work today?" She asked.

Jey smiled as he brushed Yasmine's hair aside, planting soft kisses on her neck that made her giggle. "Today was good I had a tag team match with Jon, and then I did an interview with Bryson."

"Joshuaaa c'mon now I'm tryna cook you something to eat," Jey chuckled at her while nodding his head. "A'ight I'll stop," knowing that he was lying to himself as he pressed himself up against her making her feel his stiff member onto her butt.

He gently slid his hands beneath her shirt, savoring the warmth of her skin as he watched her prepare dinner. With a tender kiss on the back of her neck, he sought to distract her, while Yasmine did her best to stay composed and concentrate on the meal.

That's when she felt him slithering his hands down her pants and began rubbing her clit causing her to jolt as she bit the bottom of her lip. "J-Josh...stop..." she whimpered softly.

He chuckled at her while pulling his hand out from her pants slapping her ass before walking off, she looked back at him with a stern expression on her face looking all flustered.

She finished preparing dinner for the evening and made her way upstairs to retrieve the pregnancy test from the bathroom. A wave of nervousness washed over her at the thought of sharing the news, but she reminded herself to set aside that fear and head back downstairs.

As she made her way down the stairs, she noticed Jey and Ella snuggled together on the couch. When Jey heard her footsteps approaching, he turned his gaze in her direction, raising an eyebrow in curiosity as he spotted something hidden behind her back.

"What's up mama?" Jey asked.

"I have a surprise for you to see but I don't know how you're going to feel about it,"

He raised an eyebrow at her, "it really depends on what the surprise is mama, lemme' see," Yasmine sighed deeply as she showed him the pregnancy test that was in her hands.

He took it from her hands, noticing the two lines on the test. His eyes widened in surprise as he looked up at her and then back down at the pregnancy test.

"Surprise, I'm pregnant." She announced.

"You pranking me right Ma? This must be a joke," Yasmine shook her head.

"No, I'm serious Josh I'm having your baby,"

Jey beamed with joy as he rose from the couch, lifting Yasmine by her thighs and twirling her around. Her laughter filled the air, and he eventually slowed down, gently pressing a tender kiss on her lips. "I'm finna be father, oh shit. I'm finna be fucking dad!" She could his smile on his face before he sat down on the couch along with her straddling him.

His hand was on her hip while the other one was holding onto the pregnancy test.

"No wonder why Trin and B said you wasn't feeling good today and you tried to play it off," Jey said.

"Well, I don't want to ruin the surprise Pumpkin." Yasmine replied.

"When did you find out?"

She shared with him that she discovered her pregnancy shortly after returning from their honeymoon. Unfortunately, she was unable to enjoy any of her favorite foods, as they made her feel nauseous. The only meal she could manage was chicken and brown rice. She also recounted an encounter with Trick after her photoshoot, where he was persistently questioning her about Melo and what had transpired between them.

"Don't worry about him, imma get em. And get my championship back at the Royal Rumble." He said.

Yasmine listened intently, nodding along as he spoke. She held back the news of her upcoming departure, feeling a mix of unease about being away from him while she stayed home to care for their child.

Jey sensed that she was preoccupied with something else. He gently rubbed her sides, trying to draw her focus to him as she gazed into his big, puppy-like eyes. "what's on your mind baby, you seem quiet."

"I'm announcing that I'll be leaving for a bit at the Royal Rumble and will be giving my title away, but..." she trailed off. "But I feel uneasy being away from you,"

His eyes softened slightly knowing what she was referring to he caressed her cheek softly pulling her in for a kiss.

"Mama, I promised myself that I am a changed man. I didn't marry you for no reason now I wanted to be with you and have a future together."

"You're my one and only, I mean that shit. I love you too much just to put you through that again," his words and reassurance were so precious and sweet it just made Yasmine smile at him knowing that he truly loved her.

He entwined their fingers as their foreheads rested against one another, lost in each other's gaze, just before Jey leaned in to gently kiss her lips again.

They shared several kisses before gently separating. "I love you Minks I really do,"

"I love you too Joshua," Yasmine said.

Something Bout' Us

biancabelairwwe replied to your story: IM FINNA BE A AUNTIEEEE trinity_fatu replied to your story: aww look at Ella so cuteee Tank and Marley said they miss her MontezFordWWE replied to your story: damn im finna be a uncle jonathanfatu replied to your story: uncle fatu in the building 🙂‍↕️ rikishi replied to your story: ❤️ romanreigns replied to your story: YOU PREGNANT? IM FINNA BE A UNCLE?😀😭 trickwilliams_wwe replied to your story: PREGNANT? Melo ain't finna like this rhearipley_wwe replied to your story: omggg I am so happy for you guys 🫶🏼 archerofinfamny replied to your story: WEPA?? UCE GOT YOU KNOCKED UP?

A/n: yall think Yasmine is goin to have a boy or a girl? But one more chapter to go before ending this book off 🙂‍↕️ can't wait to see what will happen to Carmelo.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below oh Happy Valentine's Day everyone 💓

STAY UCEY.

[notiddygothgf]

PROLOGUE

★ pairings: nanami kento x f! reader

★ synopsis: In the search for solace, Nanami stumbles right into the arms of an exotic dancer. In the search for money, an exotic dancer finds more than she bargained for. In the heat of the moment, a contractual relationship turns into something more. (or; the one where sugar daddy!nanami is sweet on his girl)

★ c.w.: drinking (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: OMG! im so excited to finally start publishing this fanfic. ive been sitting on it for a minute. DISCLAIMER LOL I dont condone the behavior observed in this story (even if I myself would have done it in a heartbeat) anything for papa nanami. im so normal about him (I have daddy issues). if ur new around here, say hi! if you've read my other ffs then welcome back teehee. chapter is not beta'd. we die like men. (I would recommend listening to the song while u read)

★ w.c.; 3k

my kinda love; chapter index

THE HORRORS. He dreamt about them often. Most of his dreams were of a similar nature; long, detailed, brutal. Bloody, at times. When he wasn’t kept up by the memories, he was dreaming about them – as if they had followed him into his slumber. When he woke up, his burdens were heavy on his shoulders. He would repeat this cycle every day.

He was compensated rather well for his traumas. Well was an understatement. Maybe it wasn’t… after all, no amount of money could ever possibly make up for the things he had seen.

He repeated the same cycle every single day.

“Nanami?” A soft voice shook him out of his reverie. It was his therapist – a woman of short stature with long, brown hair and a business-casual outfit on. 

He raised his brows, doing his best to appear as if he had been listening the entire time. “Yes?”

“I asked you if you’ve had any romantic pursuits recently,” She answered. Her smile was warm, patient, but the clipboard in her lap said otherwise. He was paying for her time. “Any efforts to let new people into your life…?”

Nanami’s face wore a blank expression. He fiddled with the hands folded neatly in his lap. “As in… dating?”

“Dating counts, yeah,” She nodded. She tapped the edge of her purple pen against the page rhythmically while she awaited his reply. 

He thought of the innumerable faceless women he had spent the evening with. He thought of warm mouths, soft lips, and supple bodies; Countless beautiful women he had tricked into thinking they had a chance at something more than a one night stand. Every time a potential suitor came along, he found himself being scared away by intimacy.

Not sex. He was no stranger to that, nor to its remarkable ability to take his mind off of the stress. It was what lurked in the shadows that daunted him – the lingering touches, the good morning messages, the heartfelt gestures. He could handle it when he was the one dishing it out, but the moment the energy was returned, every single time, he would find himself running away.

It was a dangerous game. He knew he was an evil, cold-hearted, bad man. A part of him wished he could have done right by those select women he had courted (for rather brief periods of time). The more sensible part of him knew he simply didn’t have the time nor the energy to confront his issues and commit to a single woman. 

So he continued to ignore his problems – finding comfort in a warm bed and a warm body whenever he could. Sex made for one hell of an emotional crutch when it was the only thing that seemed to make you feel anything other than indifference.

Indifference. That was the only thing he felt these days. That, and the rush – the pursuit of animalistic passion in favor of neglecting his personal qualms. The temporary escape from his permanent issues.

“I’ve had quite a few,” He answered after a pause that seemed to stretch on for a moment too long. “Commitment is a bit of an issue for me, still, but I’m making an effort to work on it.”

Only partially a lie.

“That’s great, Nanami!” She smiled. She clicked her pen against the page, scribbling something down before she turned her attention back to him. “Tell me more about that effort. Have you been letting those emotional walls down?”

He fought the urge to grit his teeth together at her inquiry. If you can call ghosting three women in the last month and a half letting walls down.

“I’ll be honest,” He sighed. Sitting back in his leather loveseat, he crossed one leg over the other. “I’m starting to believe I’m unable to open up to another person on that level.”

“Don’t say that, Nanami,” She scribbled something down. Her eyes weren’t even on him when she uttered this. “I think you just need to put yourself out there a little more. Ease yourself into that intimacy you typically shy away from.”

Put myself out there.

He thought again of the countless women he had been with.

“Forgive me for being vulgar,” He admitted. “But I think I have enough sex.”

“Not that,” She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “Intimacy and sex are two completely different things, Nanami – though they often intersect. You should try exploring non-sexual intimacy with a partner.”

“Non-sexual intimacy…” He reiterated. The term felt foreign as it rolled off of his tongue. “What do you mean by that?”

Was that what he had been missing? Non-sexual intimacy?

“Letting someone be vulnerable with you – being vulnerable with someone. The softness, that stuff that makes a relationship more than just physical. Other than love, that is,” She answered. Her manicured fingers smoothed over the page before flipping it. She was like clockwork. “There’s something healing about having a soft and, in your case, feminine presence in your life that you can be vulnerable with.”

“I’ve thought about it, but I’ve never acted,” He said. Casting a sideways glance at the analog clock on her desk, he asked, “Does that make me selfish? Shying away from non-sexual intimacy because I don’t understand it – even though I allow myself to indulge in sexual intimacy?”

“It makes you human, I think,” She smiled softly, writing something else down. Her brown eyes flitted up to meet him with unfounded warmth. “You should try letting someone in, Nanami. Might be worth a shot. What do you have to lose?”

Everything, was his first thought.

“I suppose you’re right,” He sighed anyway. 

The faint buzz of the neon sign before him grew louder as he approached it. It was hardly audible over the deep buzz of the bass coming from the other side of the door. The words “Cat House” blinked periodically, illuminating his tired face in its glow each time.

“You’re taking him to a strip club?” Nanami grumbled. Still, shutting the door of the sleek black vehicle behind him, he glanced at the glowing pink sign. “The kid is turning 21.”

After his white-haired-blue-eyed long-term-acquaintance stepped out from the other side of the SUV, the driver pulled off. Gojo wiped his hands off on the fabric of his suit. “Not just any strip club! My favorite strip club!”

“You’re a regular,” He sighed, shaking his head. “Of course you are.”

“You, my friend, need to learn how to have some fun,” Gojo hummed. He brushed past Nanami, making his way to the stairway that undoubtedly descended to the entrance. “Yuuji’s gonna love it!”

Nanami followed after Gojo, flicking his cigarette onto the ground below his feet. His footsteps crunched against the gravel pathway. “If this is what your definition of fun is, I don’t think you should have been the one planning out his birthday.”

“What would you have done? Take him to an arcade?” Gojo waved him off. He nodded towards the door the two men now stood in front of. “Kid’s 21, not 12. Let’s go inside.”

"Hard pass," Nanami answered calmly. He straightened his tie out, suddenly feeling rather overdressed for the occasion – especially considering the kind of establishment this was .

"Yes we are."

"I have better things to do."

"Like what? Moping and pouting at home?" Gojo interjected, reaching for his  arm – which Nanami quickly pulled out of his grasp. “It’s Yuuji’s birthday. Go celebrate with a lapdance, or something.

Gojo grabbed his arm again. Getting the strong feeling that he would simply try again if he pulled his arm away, Nanami let him.

“I will be doing nothing of the sort,” He grumbled. Still, he allowed Gojo to pull him into the entryway.

A low and seductive saxophone medley poured out from the speakers, and Nanami nearly considered turning back there and then. Gojo – with Nanami in tow – approached a rather scantily clad woman near the door. 

“Hi, doll. Party for Itadori?” He asked.

The hostess nodded. Gathering a few menus, she stepped out from behind the counter – wearing nothing more than a micro skirt and a bikini top. “Right this way,” she said.

The two men followed her into the club. Everything – everything – was pink. As pink as Yuuji’s hair, with red chairs and booths scattered throughout. It looked like the place had been designed by fucking Cupid himself. There were dozens of dancers strutting around the place – all of which wore tiny skirts and tight tops. 

Nanami didn’t miss the way Gojo’s eye’s trailed over the hostess’s ass while she led them over to their booth.

“The dancers here are phenomenal," Gojo said to him, raising his voice so that he was louder than the music. The stage was surrounded by at least 15 tables, all of which were packed with very excited-looking men. Conveniently enough, their table sat front-and-center to the stage. 

"Can I get you started with something to drink?”  The woman said, gesturing to the booth. “Or would you like to wait for the rest of your party?”

Gojo sank into one of the cushiony chairs at the table, and Nanami did the same. The cushion was a bright red velour. It was soft – he really didn’t wanna think about what sort of stories the chair could tell. 

“A strawberry margarita for me, please– extra dirty,” Gojo answered. He didn’t even have to look at the menu. Fuckin’ party animal.

The lady nodded, then turned her gaze to Nanami.

He had to think for a moment before he asked. “Do you have wine?”

“Yeah,” She hummed. “What kind?”

“Merlot, please,” He answered. “Bring the whole bottle.”

The lady nodded, and again, he caught the way Gojo shamelessly stared at the woman's ass as she walked away. Once he was certain they were alone, he asked his eccentric friend, "The drinks any good here?"

"You ask that after you order a whole bottle of it?" The man chuckled, crossing one leg over the other and rather conspicuously nudging Nanami’s leg with his foot. "They’re alright. The key is to get wasted enough that they taste better.”

That’s terrible advice. Nanami knew better than to try to argue with Gojo. He had long since learned his lesson. Instead, he tried to see the bright side of the whole situation. Perhaps this night out would help him take his mind off of everything

Yuuji and his friends had arrived only thirty minutes earlier, and they were already drunk. They were cackling loudly – so loudly that they were beginning to draw attention. Gojo, wiping away tears from laughing so hard, was clapping his hands together in amusement.

There was a brief moment of silence, during which Gojo went for the tequila bottle and poured everyone another round of shots. The clear liquid seemed to catch the light just slightly, just enough that it glistened as he raised his glass.

“Lovely students, gather ‘round!” He slurred, a drunken sparkle in his eyes. He tapped the side of his glass with a metal fork – the resulting clink cut right through the laughter.

The group hushed as all eyes focused on him. “I want to make a toast!” He announced after a dramatic pause. He glanced at poor Yuuji, with his “birthday girl” sash and matching tiara, and proclaimed, “I wanna thank all of you for gathering here to celebrate our beloved birthday girl’s special night!”

All eyes turned to Yuuji, who wore a dopey, beaming grin.

Gojo stood up from his chair, bringing the glass of tequila with him. Nanami watched with moderate intrigue – only because there was a 50% chance that his alcoholic beverage could wind up all over his shirt. 

“To Yuuji!” he declared, raising his glass high.

The group raised their glasses together. For a moment, Nanami felt a warmth in his chest – a rare moment of contentment amidst all of the chaos. Everyone was okay. They were here . Happy.

“To Yuuji!” They echoed.

He raised my own glass a moment too late, then threw it down the hatch. The bitter taste of the liquor as it flowed down Nanami’s throat and warmed his chest was not unwelcome. 

 Yuuji, however, nearly gagged on his, swallowing slowly before erupting into a fit of coughs.

Laughter erupted once again, and Nobara affectionately patted Yuuji on the back. As the group continued to revel in the celebration, the lights dimmed.

"Oh shit, I think the show is starting," Yuuji exclaimed.

"Quiet down, everyone! Gojo chimed in, his usual exuberance heightened by the alcohol.

As the lights dimmed even more, the atmosphere shifted. The group settled into their seats, anticipation filling the air. Yuuji, still wearing his birthday girl sash, looked around with wide eyes, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

The curtains gracefully rolled open just a moment later, ushering in a pulsating beat as a shadow emerged from the stage's depths. Gojo couldn't help but nearly roll his eyes at the sheer absurdity of it all. Gliding effortlessly to the stage's forefront was the dancer, adorned in a fetching ensemble—a pretty pink G-string paired with a matching corset adorned with little embroidered hearts. Her hair was styled into two low pigtails, and from where Nanami stood, he couldn't deny she was, well, kind of pretty.

The rhythmic beat filled the restaurant as the dancer began to sway her hips, accompanied by the provocative lyrics.

‘Tell nobody I control you

I broke you just to hold you,’

She placed a hand on her shoulder, trailing it around her neck before seductively sliding it down her glimmering, scantily-clad chest. The spotlight painted her feminine silhouette with hues of pink and red, and Nanami couldn't resist letting his gaze drift a little lower.

‘They can’t tell, but I love you,’

Grasping the pole behind her, the dancer executed snakelike hip movements. Her hands remained wrapped around the pole as she pressed her back against it, biting her bottom lip in a tantalizing squat. Legs opened, hips gyrating, she beckoned the audience forward. Nanami's eyes dropped below the belt once more as her body rippled enticingly to the beat.

‘Cause you’re loyal, baby,

I love when you’re submissive,’

She was undeniably gorgeous. Her attire accentuated her curves, and her movements exuded confidence and sensuality.

‘Love it when I break skin,’

Gojo, in his usual flamboyant manner, clapped his hands and whistled at the dancer. Nanami turned to him, eyebrows raised in surprise, as if silently conveying, "She's hot." Gojo simply smiled in return.

‘You feel pain without flinchin’...

So say it…’

She stepped around the pole, so that her long, athletic legs were spread in front of it, her back was straight, and her hands were clasped around the pole above her head. She demanded attention – something reflected by the hoots and whistles resonating throughout the room.

‘Give me tough love,’

Slowly, she slid into a squat.

‘Leave me with nothing when I come down,

My kinda love,’

From there, she crawled onto her hands and knees, arching her back, rolling her hips against the floor in a way that had Nanami’s eyes blinking rapidly. She grinded and crawled, eventually transitioning onto her back, where she backbended and then cartwheeled onto her feet again.

‘Push me and choke me ‘til I pass out.’

His jaw would have been on the floor if he didn’t have an image to uphold.

Returning to her confident strides around the pole, she stopped to roll her body against it, smoothing her hands over her smooth bottom, eyes scanning the audience. Sliding her hands up her inner thighs, she flipped her hair up and then rolled back up slowly. She dropped down into another squat, then – spinning on the balls of her feet – she rolled over the floor, kicking her legs up into a split, hands on the ground, back arched.

‘ We don’t gotta be in love, no,

I don’t gotta be the one, no’

She’s amazing, he found himself thinking.

She rolled onto her stomach, pushed herself back onto her knees, and arched her back – all while running her hands over her torso, her waist. Her hips rolled forward, making a little riding motion that made Nanami reconsider his harsh words towards his comrade earlier in the evening.

‘I just wanna be one of your girls tonight’.

Spinning around to face the crowd on her knees, she crawled onto her hands and knees. She arched her back slowly, sensually – in an almost feline fashion – with her ass and heels pointed up.

She pushed herself onto her feet, hands holding her heels, rolling up slowly again – this time dagging her hand up the length of her smooth, long legs. She reached for the pole, rolling her body against it.

‘Push me down, hold me down,

Spit in my mouth while you turn me out,’

Is she even going to use the pole? Nanami wondered. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. It looked difficult – something he could never imagine himself being able to do. And, shit, for what it was worth, she was putting on one hell of a show without it.

‘I wanna take your light inside,

Dim me down, snuff me out,

Hands on my neck while you push it out,

And I’m screamin’ out’

She hooked her leg around the pole – as if she had heard Nanami’s internal inquiry, and flipped up onto it. In one smooth motion, she seemed to defy gravity. Her legs were pointed up, straight towards the ceiling as the pole rotated slowly. Then, before Nanami could catch his breath, her legs split open.

‘Give me tough love,

Leave me with nothin’ when I come down.’

She looked so fucking… perfect, so remarkable. He found himself entirely hypnotized by her. Her back was arched, pressed up against the pole – hell, her whole body was bent backward. He had never seen someone do an upside down split in mid air with only their hands as support, let alone do it so effortlessly.

‘My kinda love,

Force me and choke me ‘til I pass out.’

Her eyes scanned the shouting crowd with a seductive expression. She wrapped her legs around the back of the pole. Then, still upside down, she relaxed her grip on the base of the pole, sliding down until her hands met the ground. 

He was surprised her breasts hadn’t spilled out of their containers by now.

‘We don’t gotta be in love, no

I don’t gotta be the one, no,

I just wanna be one of your girls tonight.’

In one fluid motion, she opened her legs and cartwheeled away from the pole. She sauntered up to the front of the stage again, sliding her hands up her hips, her stomach, her chest, her neck. Nanami’s eyes followed her hands hungrily on their journey up, and then again on their way down, down, down. With her hands on her knees, she sunk into a squatting position. 

‘We don’t gotta be in love, no

I don’t gotta be the one, no’

Nanami gaped at the stage. She was absolutely stunning. Her body moved with grace, and her long legs worked those heels in a way that left his head spinning. The way her hands gripped the pole ignited a desire in Nanami's fingers to reach out and touch her.

‘I just wanna be one of your girls tonight, oh.’

Strutting to the stage's front, she sank back down to her knees, this time facing away from the audience. Slowly, she bent over backward, bridging off the stage into the audience. What struck Nanami the hardest wasn't the sparkle of her chest or the way her hair framed her pretty eyes; it was the way she looked right at him.

‘ Lock me up and throw away the key,

He knows how to get the best out of me,

I’m no fool for the world to see, 

Trade my whole life just to be.’

And Nanami, normally a man of composure, felt the blood rush to his face. He felt something stir deep within his chest – a sensation he hadn’t felt in years. Her half-lidded, smokey eyes gazed into his with the intensity of a thousand wildfires—unwavering, unrelenting, glimmering. She was fucking beautiful.

Droplets of sweat slid down her chest, and she smirked before extending her arm towards him. An unfamiliar, small hand gently caressed the side of his face. Nanami's heart raced, the scent of sweat and perfume leaving him reeling for more.

Then, as if nothing had transpired, the dancer pulled herself back onto her knees and continued with her routine.

Nanami's head spun, utterly captivated. He felt Gojo tap him on the shoulder. 

“She’s good, ain’t she?” He shouted over the sultry beat.

As the bills rained down around the captivating dancer, Nanami found himself unable to tear his gaze away. Gojo's words still echoed in his ears, but a stubborn sense of restraint kept him from joining in the display of buffoonery.

Gojo, undeterred by Nanami's refusal, slid him some bills anyway. "Tip her," Gojo insisted. Before Nanami could protest further, Gojo walked away.

Left alone, Nanami hesitated, his gaze alternating between the bills in his hand and the dancer on stage, who continued her mesmerizing routine, seemingly unaffected by the cascade of money around her.

‘We don’t gotta be in love, no

I don’t gotta be the one, no’

He yearned to be closer to her. It was a strange feeling – one that he hadn’t felt before. He yearned to see her, to hold her, to…

The bills felt weighty in his hand, a tangible representation of the internal struggle Nanami was experiencing. After a moment of contemplation, he made a decision. With a determined look, he rolled his thumb over the bills one last time, then threw them up into the air.

Dollar bills danced around the woman as she moved, and she seemed to lock eyes with Nanami, a subtle smile playing on her lips. 

‘I just wanna be one of your girls tonight’.

He wasn’t enamored.

No, he definitely wasn’t enamored with the absurdly pretty exotic dancer on the stage. That’s what he told himself.

And even though he had slandered Gojo for being a frequent patron of the club before that night, he joined the rank of regular himself not very long after.

a/n: hi pookie cookie bookie butts! I didnt like this specific chapter, but I never like my first chaps. thats why I make prologues lol!! the story will get much better I swear. tell me your thoughts, requests, remarks, etc in the comments, as always!! love u all <333 -Leo

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @mindurownbussines , @hearts4sid , @simplefools , @ynjimenez

wanna join the taglist? | my kinda love; chapter index

[thewisaaaaad]

@squish--squash I hope you know that you did this to me. I took a break from my narilamb oneshot for this.

Anyway here's more "Heket has a crisis" yw

After discovering the truth about Forneus's children, Heket is left with a problem. She can't really have a Narinder worshiper just wandering around her domain, but she also really doesn't want to force her love into a cage. She's already forced enough people close to her into cages. So, they just make an agreement: Forneus doesn't tell random people about her god, and Heket allows her to wander her domain. Every day, Heket fears that Forneus will forget, and that will be the end of her. Heket will not be able to protect her from War itself, after all.

So, after discovering that Shamura had gone off the deep end, Heket naturally assumes that the madness must have been caused by the damage that Narinder had done to their head. That's great, but now what?

Well, Heket of course makes the most rational decision: to sweep it under the rug! She takes over as the leader of the bishops, mainly to take the pressure off of Shamuras failing mind. This works great, even if the eldest sibling sometimes makes strange demands of them ("I thought we were meant to protect our people, not lord over them" "We need the sacrafices for more power. He cannot be allowed to overpower us." "...alright, I guess.") She is still able to keep the fractured family together. Secretly, Heket fears Narinders return, because of the damage he has already caused when they had the upper hand. Its irrational, she knows, because he's sealed away forever, but a part of her hopes he breaks free if only so that Forneus's kits can be returned to her. (little does she know that all narinder wants in this au is to have their family back.)

Then Shamura drops the bombshell of a prophesy about the sheep, and orders their siblings to begin the culling. Heket immidiately sees the problem with this (as do the other two gods). Killing all the sheep not only sends them directly to their brother, but would also give those sheep ample motivation to work with narinder to wipe out the old faith. So, behind Shamuras back, the three siblings make a plan to hide the sheep within Darkwood, given that the forest is a maze that only those with the bishop of chaos's blessing can traverse. (you can read all about that meeting HERE, you will need an ao3 account because I am afraid of AI scalpers.) So, problem solved, everything is great, right?

Shamura thinks so too! In fact, they managed to contain the red crown!

At that point Heket begins to panic, wondering what the hell Shamura meant by that, considering that the spider never extrapolated on how they were containing their brothers crown. She had never told them about how they were containing the sheep, so how did they find out? What do they mean, "contained the red crown"? Do they know about Forneus? Is her family safe?

And some years later, Heket realizes that she has someone who could answer that question: Forneus! She is a devout follower of The One Who Waits, so maybe she could tell Heket if the red crown is actually on this plane or not. And as it turns out, she can! It is in fact on the mortal plane, and it has found its destined bearer!

So Heket panics even more, and organises a meeting with her siblings individually so as to not raise alarm but still get the message out. However, when she goes to meet with Kalamar, she finds that he is ACTIVELY OPERATING ON THE BEARER OF THE RED CROWN. anyway that stuffs gonna be in the next chapter of my fanfic when I get around to it.

bye :)

ps this was thrown together so like im sorry that its not quite up to my standards I'm struggling man

[pinetrees-in-the-water]

what if ej x gn blind reader??😏

Anon your brain is so huge.... Im basically writing fanfic here but AAAAAAA

(Edit: Oh my god I noticed the smirking emoji way too late yall please be specific with wanting NSFW or SFW I was well Into fluff territory before I realized and I still can't tell what anon means, but SFW and NSFW under the cut)

Thank you for the request!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

◇EJ x GN! Blind Reader◇

• So EJ CAN see but his vision is more akin to like...cat night vision. Only sees in shades of gray.

• Basically the man is colorblind.

• He takes advantage of it and only hunts in the night, scouting out houses for possible victima to soothe his demonic hunger or or contract kills for The Operator.

• So when he's creeping around a what he thinks is an abandoned house and sees you walking around in the dark, his heart stops.

• Naturally, being blind has led to your other senses improving over time and you're barely able to hear a creak that DEFINATELY wasn't you.

• You grab the kitchen knife and reach for your phone in your pocket just in case you need to dial a neighbor or the cops.

• You hadn't turned around yet so EJ didnt notice you were blind, he tried silently moving towards you to knock you out when-

• "DON'T COME ANY CLOSER I CAN HEAR YOU!" You swung around with the knife in your hand. EJ saw your closed eyes and realized his mistake.

• "Hey hey Im sorry. Im not gonna hurt you. Ill get out right now." He pretty much bolted out the window leaving you confused.

• You DID call someone over to check and yeah...he left.

• Weeks later you found a note in braille at your door apologizing for the incident, you were shocked at the amount of effort this intruder was taking to amend his actions, he also explained that he'd been completely blind before and understood how terrifying it must have been.

• You don't know what possessed you but you wrote back and left your letter in the same place you found his. Thus started a pattern of you both writing back and forth.

• Eventually you both came to care alot for each other, you found out he was a part of a sort of task force and had killed before, but he wanted to "Spare you the gory details" so you didn't find out more for a while.

• He started helping you in small ways, fetching you groceries, running small errands since it was a hassle to get around with your condition, you aporefuated the kindess that was rare from other people. And slowly started falling for him, and maybe it was the way he wrote, soft yet deep voice or his constant compliments but it felt like he was falling for you too.

• Even though you couldn't see him, you wanted to meet him again in person (without the breaking and entering) and tell him how you felt. And so you did.

• He agreed but something was off even as you both laughed in the kitchen while baking, his hands..no his skin was ice cold. And even if he was talking and laughing with you he seemed unusually nervous, you could hear the tapping off his foot.

• When yoy asked him if somethibg was wrong he couldn't take it anymore and broke. He told you about his past and qhen he was turned in college, the ritual that put a demon inside of him and how he had no choice but to break into morgues and scout for the "morallly corrupt" so the demon had a source of food, it had turned him into a cannibal.

• At first you thought he was making fun of you and that it was some kind of joke, but before you could get mad his chilled hands took yours.

• "Do you trust me? Ill show you... I promise im not lying"

•You dont know what made you say yes but you did. He took your hands and put them on his face so you could feel his features which were definately human..and after you were done his face started to morph, skin splitting and his jaw unhinging to reveal what felt like razor-sharp teeth.

• His mouth closed as soon as it opened. He tried pulling away and running but you didn't want him to this time.

SFW:

• As said above Jack loves providing acts of service for you. Groceries? Cooking? Cleaning? call him your malewife because he's doing ALL of it.

• Of course he doesn't treat you like some helpless child and respects when you qant to do things yourself but still always offers just in case.

• After you both properly get together and you know his past hes noticibly more physically affectionate while making sure not to startle or scare you with sudden touches.

• Takes EXTRA precaution to make sure youre out of The Operator's radar since youre at a bit of a disadvantage (a tad overprotective)

• kisses you on your eyelids (kicking my legs and screaming)

NSFW:

• Regardless of who he's with he's a soft dom (Im tired of yall slandering my man's name HES A SWEET BOY.)

•Jack is so gentle. Mainly because he's terrified of doing something wrong.

•He's a big boy at 6'5 so a good chance hes taller than you, and hes somewhat muscular too so he's aware theres a huge imbalance in your relationship and checks in on you every once in a while to make sure youre okay with him doing anything.

• He has 3 tongues.....need I say more?

•Goes down on you VERY often, somwtimes gets a bit carried away and overstimulates you

•Even if you can't see him he ALWAYS ALWAYS compliments how pretty/handsome you look during sex.

• Sensory deprivation but just....always.

• Despite being majorly soft that doesn't mean hes not an absolute tease in bed. 100% makes you beg. And definately takes advantage of tue fact that you cant see what he's gonna do next.(Will feel guilty if you accuse him of bullying you for being blind)

[fishylipsblubblub]

The Silent Observer, Chapter 1

When you get hired at El Michoacano, you quickly discover that not all is as it seems...

A/N: This one has been marinating in my google docs for a long ass time because i wasn’t really sure how i felt about the beginning, but i kinda just realized theres no point in writing fanfic if im not gonna post it, so here y’all go. btw i’m planning for this one to be long AF

Pulling out of the McDonalds drive through, I turned onto the road. I tried for a second to open the lid of my coffee, but decided it was a bad idea and set it in the cup holder. I exhaled and gripped the wheel until my knuckles were white. Rain drops pummeled the windshield as I drove onward. The weather was uncharacteristically rainy for New Mexico, but the rain was a welcome sight. The constant heat got on my nerves all the time since I’d came here.  

“Hi, my name is y/n l/n,” I practiced. “I’m here for the interview. Yes, I would like some water, thank you. My biggest weakness? I’m too hard working. No, wait, that’s cliche. And not even true. No, my biggest weakness is.. I usually wake up after 12, and employers don’t generally like that.” I heaved an exasperated sigh. “They’re never going to hire me.”

My intention was to collapse my head into the steering wheel dramatically, but instead I hit the horn with my forehead and scared myself. I sat up straight immediately, and timidly waved an apology at the driver next to me who was now giving me a dirty look. 

I reached over to the cup holder to grab my coffee without taking my eyes off the road. The rain was unceasing, and I didn’t want to run the risk. Instead of grabbing the coffee, I hit it with my hand and knocked the entire contents onto the back seat and all over my phone. I looked back just in time to see it light up one last time, the screen glitching and malfunctioning. Then, it turned to black, dead. 

“Oh, no! Come on, there’s no way.” My lip quivered threateningly, but I took a very deep breath, stopping any tears that might have come. Looking back to the road, I realized I was drifting into the other lane. Without a thought, I swerved, but lost control on the wet road and went straight into the ditch.

My chest slammed into the steering wheel. I sat in the car for a moment, just waiting. I knew there was nothing I could do, and that what’s done is done, but I still waited. Finally, I got out of the car. I was right in front of a small Mexican restaurant called El Michoacano. Maybe I can use their phone, I thought.

When I entered the restaurant, it was almost completely empty. There were three men sitting in the dining room, each at different tables. Two of them looked like gangster types, and one looked like he could possibly be a chef, with his apron. I walked past them and toward the counter. Another man was back in the kitchen, and it looked like he was cooking something but he had stopped when I came in.

The man was tall. His hair was black, with a single streak of silver. He was dressed in the least conspicuous clothing imaginable. A silk button down with some of those pointy leather shoes.

“Excuse me,” I choked, realizing that there were tears falling down my cheeks. He came over and leaned on the counter.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I just ran my car into the ditch outside. Do you think I could use your phone to call a mechanic or something?”

“It’s just back here, in the kitchen. Here, this way,” he said, leading me into the kitchen. When I got to the phone, it was one of those old fashioned wall-mounted things. As I dialed the number, I turned back to lean on the wall. With a full view of the dining room, I saw the gangster’s heads both whip around so that they weren’t looking at me.

With a tow truck on the way, I sighed and wiped the mascara off my cheeks.

“I’m sorry about your car,” the man said. 

“It’s okay. Nothing I can do now. Thanks for the phone.” 

“Hey, take a seat. I just finished some tacos, you want one?” He asked. 

“Yeah, thanks.” I sat down, and he followed with two plates and sat down across from me.

“Rough day? I get it. Eat your taco, it’s getting cold,” he said gesturing at the food in front of you.

“So much for my interview,” I said, swallowing a bite of the taco. “Sorry, ignore me. I haven’t had such a good couple of days. Oh, my name is y/n, by the way.”

“My name is Eduardo. Did you say you were looking for a job?”

“Yes, why?” I asked, looking up from my food.

“I’m looking for a server. You think you might be up for it?” He got up and went over to the kitchen, coming back with a paper.

“Fill this out, and bring it back to me,” he said, giving me the application.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Eduardo.”

“Please, call me Lalo.”

“Thank you, Lalo.”

The moment was almost shattered by a contemptuous gaze that one of the men in the dining room was giving Lalo. He pretended like he didn’t see, and continued.

“I think that’s your truck pulling up.”

***************

It was sort of a plain dress. Black, short sleeved. The skirt went down maybe halfway to my knee. Of course, a small “El Michoacano” was printed over the breast. I flattened the front of my uniform and checked my bag. Yep, I have everything, I thought. Then, I was out the door, down the street, and at the bus stop. My car was taken to the junkyard when I couldn’t pay for the repairs.

“Hey, you made it,” shouted Lalo from the kitchen over the wafting sound of Mexican music. He tossed a towel over his shoulder on his way over to me and turned down the music slightly.

“You excited?”

His enthusiasm was contagious, and I grinned a smile in response.

“Of course I am.”

“Alright, let’s get to it. That guy over there,” he said, pointing at the middle-aged man sitting at a table in the corner. “He’s the chef around here, and honestly, should be training you. But, he doesn’t speak too much english. So, you’re stuck with me.”

“So what should I start with?” I asked, looking around the dining room. It was empty today, excluding the man in the corner.

“I was thinking we’d take a look in the kitchen, see where things are kept. Then, you and I will have a chat about the rules here. You know, it doesn’t usually get too busy around here, so there isn’t much for you to worry about.”

Lalo walked back into the kitchen and showed me the cupboards. He listed off what they contained, and opened some of them to show me.

“The plates and bowls go here,” he said, opening one of them. “Make sure you stack the little bowls on the little bowls and the big ones on the big ones. Don’t mix them.”

“Okay, got it. And the cups..?”

“-Go right here,” he finished swinging another cupboard open. “I don’t expect you to remember all of this. It’s gonna take some time. Don’t hesitate to ask me a question.” He started toward the door to the dining room, tapping my elbow as he passed to tell me to follow. I complied. On the way out, I looked back at the cupboards and silently quizzed myself. Bowls, plates, cups.

“Have a seat,” Lalo said, gesturing toward a chair. I sat down and looked up at him as he sat across from me. 

“So you really weren’t lying when you said that it doesn’t get busy in here,” I said looking around at the nearly empty dining room. The man in the corner seemed to be completely in his own world as he read a week-old Mexican newspaper.

“Nah, not really. The guys that were in here last week? They’ll be back in…” he checked his watch. “About an hour or so.”

“What, are they regulars or something?” I asked, remembering the odd way they seemed to be together but sat at different tables.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. So, you’ll notice people coming in and out of here a bit. You’ll know what I mean when you see it. There’s not many rules here, but the one you need to remember is this.” he leaned in closer as he continued. “Don’t worry about them. You don’t even need to take their order. Just stay back and leave them alone.”

He said it all in a calm, even tone. His eyes were fixed on mine the whole time, and they didn’t move.

“Who are they?”

“Friends.” The tension in the air as he said those words was so tight you could have cut it with a knife. His expression was so deadly serious, and he had this way of perfectly controlling the emotions of his words as he said them.

 “The tough looking guy sitting in the back yesterday? His name is Nacho. You’ll get to know him eventually, but he’s a little shy. The other one is Domingo. I’m sure he’ll introduce himself when he gets here.” 

Suddenly, Lalo leaned back and broke the tension in half with a smile.

“That’s my little lecture. Bored yet?”

“Not yet.”

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

“Really? You think I don’t talk much?” As I said that, I realized my mouth was sort of dry. “Usually people tell me I’m a chatterbox.”

“I’ll have to see that to believe it,” he laughed. “It’s about noon. You hungry? Another perk of this job. Free food.”

Without even waiting for my affirmation, he was back in the kitchen and the music was turned up again. Determined to make myself useful, I followed.

“Want help?” I called over the music.

He turned around from the tomatoes he was chopping, surprised.

“Yeah, you can do this,” he said, pointing to the chopping board. “There’s some lettuce over there, and the steak will need to be chopped too. I have to cook the meat first, so I’ll give it to you once I’m done.”

I got going, messily dicing the tomatoes. I tried my hardest to make them all at least even shapes and sizes, and I did decently okay for someone who has absolutely to idea what they’re doing. With the blade of the knife, I slid the tomatoes to the side of the board and took up the lettuce. 

Lalo was, to say the least, enthusiastic about his cooking. He was loudly singing along to the music on the radio, and his excitement was spreading to me. Even if I didn’t know the words, I was singing along with him. It was impossible not to.

As Lalo warmed the tortillas on the frying pan, he was passing them to me and I was building the tacos. 

“This is something I need to do again,” I said as we carried the plates out into the dining room.

“I can show you a thing or two about cooking, if you want. Like I said, there’s not a whole lot that needs to be done around here. You’re gonna have a lot of free time.”

The door to El Michoacano swung open, and in walked one of the men I saw yesterday. Lalo walked up to him and clapped him on the back.

“Ocho loco, you remember this girl from last week?” He looked at me and smiled slightly.

“Hi, I’m Domingo,” he said, shaking my hand.

“Y/n,” I responded. Lalo handed him the plate in his hand.

“Here, this is for you, made especially by y/n,” Lalo said with a cheeky smile in my direction.

“Oh come on, I barely helped.”

“Thanks, y/n,” said Domingo, walking over to the table he was sitting at the other day.

“Does he always sit there?” I whispered to Lalo as we sat down at the table closest to the counter.

“Yeah. Remember what I said earlier? About leaving them alone? That goes for Domingo too.”

“So, you want to me to like, ignore him when he comes in?”

He laughed and said “No, nothing like that. Just don’t go up and bother him while he’s working. And don’t eavesdrop. Especially don’t eavesdrop.”

I sat in silence and ate my taco, mulling over what he’d said. ‘Don’t eavesdrop’? What was that supposed to mean? What could Domingo and the other guy, Nacho, was it? What could they be doing that was so secretive?

I jolted my head up when I heard the door swing open again, this time with more force.

“What’s up Nacho,” Domingo greeted the man walking in.

He didn’t even look in my direction. He walked straight to the table he was at last time I saw him and sat down.

“He’s like that,” Lalo whispered to me. “Nachito, come say hi to the new waitress,” he said, raising his tone.

Nacho turned his head toward me and simply said “Hi.” I could tell he already didn’t like me, but I couldn’t tell why. Suddenly, I remembered the look he gave to Lalo when he offered me the application. 

“Why don’t you sweep the kitchen floor? The broom is back there,” he said, waving his hand toward the kitchen but not looking away from Nacho.

I followed his orders, but the strongest sense of suspicion guided me toward the kitchen.

This is when I broke my first rule. I stood as close as I could to the door so I could hear what they were saying. Lalo’s eyes followed me toward the kitchen and watched me carefully before he got up and sat directly next to Nacho and started speaking very quickly and quietly in Spanish.

I risked a look up at the pair, trying to figure out what they were saying from their expressions. Nacho was sitting cross-armed and looking up at Lalo with a quirked eyebrow. Words were exchanged, but the only ones I could pick out were “quieres” and “tienes”, “you want” and “you have” respectively. Unsurprisingly, these were some of the only Spanish words I knew. 

Lalo was leaned forward on the table, his gaze fixated on the man across from him. 

“Compredes?” He said at last. “Understand?”

“Sí, Lalo,” Nacho responded. I leaned my broom against the wall and came back into the dining room. Domingo was just sitting still, staring directly at the wall. He had the look of someone who had just sat through a very uncomfortable conversation. Lalo sighed and patted Nacho rather aggressively on the shoulder. Then I heard tires on the pavement outside, and a giant truck pulled up outside the restaurant.

“Y/N, you can do some stocking in the cupboards. There’s not much work for you out here.” 

I had the distinct impression that this was going to be one of those times in which I should not be eavesdropping. I disappeared into the pantry behind the kitchen and tried to ignore the man walking in as much as possible. 

That was the rest of the day. I hid in the back while men came in and out of the restaurant, from time to time Lalo would ask how I was or what I was getting up to. No customers came in. Not one. The bus ride home felt so much longer than the one there. My mind was racing with ideas as to what could be going on there.  

No matter what I thought of, the same thought kept returning to me. Something dark must be going on, and somehow I had gotten caught up in it. 

***************

“Why don’t you sweep the kitchen floor? The broom is back there,” I said. I studied Nacho carefully. Out of my peripheral, I saw her hesitate and then turn around. I turned to watch her leave, double checking to see that she was out of earshot before snapping my head back toward Nacho.

“You know exactly why I hired her,” I hissed softly in Spanish.

“I meant you should hire someone connected, not an outsider! Someone’s daughter or niece. You don’t even know this girl, she could be an FBI agent,” Nacho retorted, wrinkling his nose in distaste. The corners of my lips twitched upward.

“I’ve been following her since she first stepped foot in this building. Believe me, she isn’t FBI. I didn’t choose her at random. The look of pure desperation on her face told me she needed money, fast. She’d do anything for it. She won’t tell, believe me.” Nacho raised an eyebrow at me, a frown forming on his face.

“I’m just saying that you shouldn’t put your trust into someone who you don’t even know. She has no reason to be loyal to us. She could turn at any minute.”

“I have a plan,” I said simply, looking back at the girl. She was staring very decidedly at the floor where she was sweeping.

“What’s that, then?”

“All in good time, Nachito,” I smiled at him. “But now, you must be civil to her. I don’t care if you don’t like her, you must be polite, comprendes?”

Nacho sighed and responded “Sí, Lalo.”

[solivagantingrebel]

Fanfic writer questions!

How many works do you have on ao3?

8! But if we count my other account that I abandoned, 10.

What's your total ao3 word count?

So far, roughly 142k words.

What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly just COD fandom (exclusively Ghostsoap!)

Top five fics by kudos:

Leaving Your Heart On Fire - omegaverse smut amirite? (first attempt at smut fic too, which is, something!)

carry me in your teeth (with tender jaws of sympathy) - seal!soap x orca!ghost with hurt/comfort, biting and other shenanigans. honestly, i never thought people would like it that much since i hallucinated the plot & the first chapter within a day lmaoo.

Only Yours - another omegaverse smut! second one in the series, but whatever. wall sex galore tho <33

Sweetest Gift - lingerie & shibari & bdsm. need i say more

With The Softness Of Your Breath - what if hallmark movies were good, and ghoap? ALSO childhood friends and retired au + all the christmas goodness. this one is very deserved and i will literally kiss everyone who read this on the mouth for giving it a chance even tho i know first person pov isn't favoured in fandom spaces. i poured my heart into it, ty <3

Do you respond to comments?

I try my best to! Miss some sometimes because i'm too busy giggling and kicking my feet over the sheer amount of elation i feel whenever i get the notification.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Happy ending kind of guy, so none. Unless you count the letter. MCD 😔

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

CHRISTMAS FIC,, but all of them are going to be happy ending so we'll see!! my current longfics will take the rest of the year, or more, to end though, so who knows.

Do you get hate on fics?

No? But I did get a comment about how first person pov was something that a reader hated and they were looking forward to reading the fic with the tags & summary. Oh well, their loss.

Do you write smut?

ABSOLUTELY,,, i adore writing smut. right after fluff and angst, i have to say.

Craziest crossover:

None yet :(

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! I wouldn't mind it though.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but Alex. i am looking at you with the softest, darkest brown eyes ever.

All time favourite ship?

GHOSTSOAP. but also capitaru and cami. if you know you know. i don't mind ghoap x reader too, but i swear they NEED to be fucking each other as well, no ghoap 'thinking' of each other as friends and nothing more. all of us are in love and fucking and that is final, or there is nothing.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Beyond Life and Death,,, im so sorry my first attempt at a longfic but i really overestimated everything before i started writing it. Still hold it in my heart, since it was how I taught myself to write fanfics in general but it's a mess, honestly.

What are your writing strengths?

I. have no idea. I've been told I'm good at setting scene (emotional, erotic, angsty) so maybe that? Words also fly out of my mind at the speed of light whenever I am deeply dissecting a character's inner monologue, feelings and thought process AND ALSO TRAUMA, so that too.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I would say action if it were me from the past,, but I've gotten better at it. So, for now, plot, but I'm working on it!

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

HELL YEAH!!

First fandom you wrote in?

......JJK. You will not find that fic though.

Favourite fic you've written?

All of them are my babies don't make me choose 😭

I have no idea who has done this tag game and who hasn't. it was trending like months ago, so open tag for now! do feel free to yap about your fics and tag me if you, i'd love to know <3 (get some recs meself) ill tag a few but feel free to ignore me if youve already done it lmao @eiraeths @myriadblvck

[eddiediazismyhusband]

Can I ask you to list a couple things you do like about the show? Or the actors? Or the characters? Or heck anything 911 related? Because it seems like you and your other anons don’t like anything to do with any aspect of it at all from the writers down to the smallest of storyline details 😅

which at that point is probably a good time to step back and stop engaging with it either temporarily or permanently since all it’s gonna do is continue to feed into the negativity your having over it since nothing seems to be bringing you joy about it.

can yall not read? like seriously can yall not read the words when i say “i am not goign to watch season 8 until something good happens”

i feel like a goddamn parrot on here when people like you keep coming into my inbox with this same fucking “maybe you should step back” thing like yeah that’s what i have been fucking saying????

im not going to stop interacting with my friends on here- that’s out of the question. i still love being involved in the fanfic community and i still love the first 5 seasons of the show, but im not going to lie and say that i have been pleased with the most recent installments. if you actually took the time to read my blog and what i talk about you would see that i adore eddie and his queer subtext. i adore buddie as a ship, probably to a crazy degree. i love henren, and bathena, and madney. josh russo is literally one if my favorite canonically queer characters on tv.

i adore this cast with the exception of the talentless nepo baby half the fandom wanna suck the dick of (god knows why other than he’s a fugly white man who kissed their favorite white boy) i love seeing them interact with each other outside of the show.

can i ask you what the writers have given us to actually enjoy the past two seasons? other than the madney wedding? nothing else has been decently written, or taken the story in a positive direction. yeah, we got bi buck but he’s in a relationship with a literal misogynistic racist man who has had repeatedly treated buck horribly with no acknowledgement whatsoever. so no, i don’t like the writers or tim minear at the moment because they have had every opportunity to usher in something positive for eddie, but no bc tim “this show is a drama” minear would rather give the happy plots to his white characters while running his poc characters through more unnecessary trauma and pain (with the exception of chimney, although his happy plotline only happened after he was near-fatally sick an entire episode and bobby whose plotline was centered around a black man’s trauma being dug up and thrown in his face)

the earlier season of this show were such a joy to watch live when it felt like there was actually care going into it from the showrunners and writing team, but lately it’s just them throwing darts at whatever wack-ass drama plot they can think of.

this cast works too fucking hard for the vapid shit they get given to act out each week.

which is why i (once again, in case you were about to gloss over this) I AM NOT WATCHING SEASON EIGHT UNTIL SOMETHING IS DONE TO FIX THE MESS THEY MADE

perhaps writing it in bold, italicized caps will make it easier for you to get it through your head.

and as far as “my anons” if you actually had enough confidence in your message, then why are you hiding behind anon, hm?

i have said multiple times i love interracting with my friends and fandom content that doesn’t have to do with spec. i have said multiple times im holding off on season 8. i have never said i hate the cast or i hate every single plotline the show has ever had, but you know what i did hate? how s6 and s7 turned the show into a fucking ooc mess. it is within my rights as a fan to dislike a season of a show for valid reasons.

what’s not okay is you coming into my inbox repeatedly saying “take a break” when i’ve said multiple fucking times that i plan to rather than just blocking me if youre so offended by people agreeing with me that the show is at a make it or break it point.

please kindly take yourself out of my space if you’re not going to actually take the time to read the words i post and just immediately send me anonymous hate because you didn’t like my posts

[digitaldoeslmk]

I am curious about your LMK au. I mean, i think i remember thar you still have a lady bone demon in you au,right? So if she still wants to erase this reality to create her perfet World, she stills need the samadhi fire, what exactly is she going to do to make red son use it? Cause i dont think he is going to do it if she asks him😂😂😂. Is she going to make him, for example, remember that he had lost his childhood? I can understand that he is ok right now with that, but can still be something that can upset him if the overthink of it.🤔

PD, i love your au and your art! I wish the actual serie was more like that, or at least the part of guanyin and red son still having the samadhi fire.

Pd2.0, do you have a fanfic of all this? If you have, please tell me!!!! 🤩🤩🤩🤩I need it!!!💙💙💙

Sorry if my english is not that perfect😂

hello anon, and thank you for the compliments!! I don't quite have a fanfic proper cus long-format writing is a real struggle for me, but I do plan to do some scenes and such :D I'll post here and on AO3, particularly on this collection <3

as for LBD, that's the thing, that's not her motivation at all! xD like I said, my au is very JTTW-compliant, and in the novels, the White Bone Demon's only motivation was to eat Tripitaka to gain immortality thanks to his multiple lifetimes of cultivation. that's the motivation of pretty much all the demons the pilgrims face, save maybe Princess Iron Fan and Bull Demon King, who both want revenge on Wukong for defeating their son Red Boy.

in my au, LBD gets revived along with a few other demons on the prospect of getting revenge of Wukong for killing them, a proposal offered to them by Macaque. previously I stated that he ran away from the Diyu but after some thinking, im changing it to he was reincarnated once his time on the Diyu was done! despite being reborn, he wanted to get back at Wukong and the aspect of fate itself, and for that he needed to cause some real uproar, thus the sneaking souls out of the Hells for his own plans. however his plans don't include the use of the Samadhi fire, so no need to manipulate Red Son into using it for him.

also the Samadhi fire isn't exclusive to Red Son either! it's a very specific and powerful skill that only a few select individuals can use, but it's not this world-ending power like the series make it out to be. other characters like Nezha and Erlang can use it too uwu