#but oh man the explanation is gonna be LONG

[newkatzkafe2023]

SORRY THAT ASK WAS UNFINISHED.

https://www.tumblr.com/newkatzkafe2023/740092891029012480/lara-legomonkiekid?source=share

So remember this? Could we have a fem Black Myth Wukong and D.O in this?

And for shits and giggles maybe a fem Erlang dragging a heavily pregnant Wukong and being upset with reader because, and I quote, "Because of you, she can no longer drink with me!"

And a pregnant D.O following her angry auntie Pigsy who's just lashing out at reader because, and again I quote, "YOU DEFILED MY CUTE LITTLE NIECE!!!"

Oh man here we go🤣🤣🤣

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh jeez of all the irresponsible sh*t she has done, this had to be the cherry on top. Listen, it was a few mouths back she was had went to a celestial party with Erlang and had a few waaaaaaaay to many drinks together. Erlang had to go to the bathroom, and that's when she saw you from across the dance floor a tall, hot male monkey man.

You were smoking a blunt with an annoyed expression on your face, you were wearing all white clothes and you were also bored and nobody to dance with. Wukong jaw had dropped and purred at you and strutted over and began flirting with you and smiled back at her. Then you treated her to some more rice wine, and you both started to make out, and soon you both went to one of the backroom and got it onnnnn all night long. You left her alone that next morning as you were out on Vacation, but unknown to you, you had left a parting gift with her. Although months later you were at home when their was banging on your door, you opened it to see a pissed 3 eyed lady.

(Erlang) YOU DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA ON WHAT YOU DONE?! YOU HAD KNOCKED HER UP?! AND BECAUSE OF THAT NOW WE CAN'T DRINK ANYMORE!!!!!😡😡😡

You were shocked and majorly confused until you saw a familiar female monkey who was very, very pregnant. Ohhhhhhhhhh jeez this is gonna require a little explanation but your secretly excited, Or else Erlang would make you take responsibility.

(Destined one) You ran a tiny book and tea shop that also sells plushies in a quiet village, and because of your job, you met the destined one. She was looking for a book during her travels and you found her to be adorable and quiet, but she walked into your shop looking so serious. You chirped at her out of concern for her and soon you both found that you had a lot in common and it helps that you don't talk very much either. Though you both enjoy each other company she had to leave, but from all the time in your village she came to your shop every day. You both grew closer, and your bond grew, and one night, you took her out on a date, and you both had some drinks from a restaurant. Then you both soon had your first kiss, and apparently, more did more then that, giving her a safe travel goodbye, and told her you'll miss her terribly while she blew kisses at you as she left. Months later, you were sweeping in your shop when a short angry female pig kicked down our door.

(Zhu Bajie) YOU DEFILED MY CUTE LITTLE NIECE YOU TEA SCENTED LITTLE SH*T!!!!!🤬🤬🤬🤬

You Jumped in terror of the sudden noise and looked over to see the destined one with a rather large belly bump, ohhhhhhhhhh now you know why Ms Bajie is upset. Though you are way to happyto be afraid as you ran over and kissed the destined one. Just hope Bajie calms down or she'll breaks her rake over your ass.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[pocket-prosecutor]

Another Wereshifter Miles AU Masterpost because I hate inconsistencies and I want them cleared up >:(

Old masterpost here

The original concept remains the same: Edgeworth shrinks when the sun goes down, which is a strict "rule". This also takes the changes in sunset/rise times over the course of the seasons into account.

He could also cheat his way out of it by spending the summer in Finland.

As an adult, Miles shrinks down to 20 cm/8 inch.

When and how and stuff:

So in the old masterpost I said the condition started because of a strong stress-response (think of it as a Flight-Response from all the trauma, anxiety, and panic attacks).

But having this condition be an inherent trait that started earlier at around, say, age 5 or 6, is equally if not more fun. I will (hopefully) make a post just for this but in short:

Somewhere around the age of 6, Miles's wereshifting condition manifests. One evening he feels...kind of bad? His entire body tenses and he gets dizzy. Gregory notices and asks if he's okay when suddenly he sees his son shrink in front of his eyes. Eventually Miles stops shrinking when he's around 12.5 cm/5 inch. Of course he grows back when the sun rises, but they both didn't know that the first night.

In the years that follow, Miles and his father figure out how to deal with this condition through trial and error.

Who knows?

I'm keeping what I initially said about this.

Franziska knows, she found out rather quick after Miles moved into the MvK household. Before Miles started his career as prosecutor, Franziska was a safe place for him to go to when shrinking got too overwhelming.

M. von Karma knows, but Miles doesn't know that. He could use it against Miles later, if ever necessary. Keeping up the pretense works out better for him and his over-planned scheme for case 1-4.

Additionally, Phoenix knows, but only kinda sorta? Gregory told him when he was still a child, on the day before the Christmas holidays (after talking it through with Miles). He simply wanted Miles to have a friend he can trust (and for sleepovers!). Phoenix is 9. Gregory is an adult. Obviously he's telling the truth.

Edit: this initially explained that Phoenix didn't see Miles shrink when they were kids but I retconned it lol. He got to visit Miles once before DL-6 happened. Miles however doesn't recall that day very well since he suppressed most of his childhood memories. Phoenix has to remind him of both the class trial and the day he hang out with Miles after he shrunk down.

Case 1-4:

Ahh, uh. So Miles can't actually murder anyone at night, nor could he have been on that boat. Working around this is manageable. Von Karma anticipates that Miles would respond to the letter anyway, he would just hide somewhere to check it out. Besides, getting a stand-in for Miles for getting a regular sized person on the photograph is not that hard probably? And surely he has a way of getting Miles's fingerprints on the gun.

Keeping his condition secret while behind bars is hard but he manages, as long as no one checks on his cell at night.

However, the trial lasts 3 days, and that 3rd day really matters... Going off-canon a bit and let's say the trial lasts just a bit too long? It is winter after all, the days are shorter. Surely Phoenix keeps an eye out for Miles? (i will probably/hopefully make a separate post for this)

Some other tidbits:

Miles buys a large dollhouse when he moves out of the MvK household

He doesn't always sleep in the dollhouse, only if he's sure the nights are long enough so that he won't grow back and damage said dollhouse.

He uses the dollhouse mainly for the accessories that come with it. Tiny chairs, cutlery, etc. And standing around these items makes him feel at ease now and then

Additionally, he gets custom-made "doll" clothes that fit his size (he had to measure himself using measuring tape when tiny, it was quite an ordeal)

In important spots of the house (kitchen counter, bed, couch) he has small ladders set up (he had to overcome his acrophobia for this). Miles (and Gregory back in the day) often refers to them as aids.

If he cannot make it home after work, he stays in his office where he has spare clothes (small and regular sized) and one of the dollhouse beds in his top drawer. He had his drawers adapted by someone so that he can open them easily without strain.

Miles hates almost all confrontation with his condition. Even after Phoenix gains his trust he has immense trouble even mentioning it. It's been nothing but a burden and embarrassment to him, especially after DL-6.

[mysticmeena]

credits to @d10nsaint ( literally. she's so creative and will not hesitate to slam you down your problematic faves in front of you <333 )

imagine being dion's wife, loving him even though you know it was hopeless to wish, but in such a lonely household where anyone and everyone can become enemies within seconds you have no choice but to rely on him. as long as he was loyal to you, you gave him your love and utter devotion. even after you had a child with him, it just doubled even more. it was proof that he cared for you to some extent, your optimism explained. he must've loved you in his way and this was his proof. he wasn't raised in a good environment, you noted, but you can help him. if you showed him love, then perhaps he can be healed and love you back.

until that night. you were waiting for him as any obedient wife would. dressed in a robe with nothing underneath. perhaps it's time to give your child another sibling, you couldn't help but think this morning. but the moment he arrived you could see the disheveled clothes, the messy hair, and the way he walked. and oh suddenly you could smell that strange scent on him, no...it was perfume. so strong you couldn't help but cringe. and why...why was there a colored smudge around his neck? his pale lips seem to be redder than before. and that jewel hanging off from his lapel...as of it was taunting you.

you know it deep in your heart but you refused to believe it. you just couldn't and you demanded an explanation of where he was hours ago. but when his crimson eyes stared at you, no...glared at you. so intense, perhaps the most emotion you seen him displayed. so you shut your mouth quickly and headed to bed.

and soon what you thought would be a one-night thing slowly became an every night thing. and everyone knew it. they knew of his mistress especially when he bought her there. and gods, it was utterly humiliating and you became the mockery of the very household. it was breaking you, tearing you down but you were so sure he loved you. so you kept your head high, for your child ( who looked exactly like dion ), and did your best to keep your dwindling reputation up.

till you couldn't. seeing your beloved child die in their father's hands because they were unable to pass the special exam took a toll on your health and you were so very weak. because how could he? how could he do this to his child? you? to their family?

finally, seeing the mistress and dion in your shared bedroom, committing the deed had done it. you grabbed dion's blade and held it against your throat, screaming why didn't he love you? what did you lack? how could he betray you like this? but with his expresionless face, coldly replying that you shouldn't make a scene since you were gonna die anyway. and that last sanity broke loose. you were truly an idiot who could only look through rose tinted glasses. it had already been over, you thought as you slit your lovely throat and swore to never love him again...

so imagine the shock and utter disbelief when you woke up in your family home. and it wasn't any normal day. it was the day your fate was sealed. the day you wed to dion agriche. a part of you wanted to run and never look back. but your child's pleas and crying were still fresh in your memory. your pain and suffering all because of that wretched man. as your maids prepped you up in your luxurious wedding gown, you knew there was only one option you could choose.

you will exact your revenge on dion agriche and bring down that damn household.

( might make a part two?? depends since there's so many routes this can go to! )

[marc-spectorr]

fire & desire

ˣ pairing: jake lockley x f!reader

ˣ summary: whether he’d disappear for days, weeks, or even months, jake would always come back to you, And you’d always find yourself waiting for his return, knowing that you could never deny him despite all.

ˣ warnings: 5k wc. explicit language & themes (18+ only, minors dni), oral & vaginal sex, slight exhibitionism, choking, mentions of smoking. established fwb relationship. jake is an angsty, cab-driving asshole in this btw but there’s a happy ending.

ˣ a/n: heyoo, here’s a lil something different! ya girl isn’t just a fluff writer haha. anyway, this turned out to be way angstier than planned. it was supposed to pwp but i was in the mood for some hurt. hope you enjoy!

- ☾-

Three little words.

It takes only three little words to distract you entirely, to ignite a fire from within.

Three little words, and there’s a sudden pause to everything around you. The thumping beat of the music fades away into a distant echo. Silhouettes of people bleed into the shadowy corners of the bar.

It’s strangely quiet now— the air is disorienting, thin, and lacking. Yet you could feel it brewing inside. A desire that claws at your chest, a heat smoldering in the pit of your stomach.

What used to be an easy decision turns into an internal battle between the mind and heart. Your head draws a complete blank, clammy fingers hovering on the keyboard as your dazed eyes glaze over the direct message again and again and again.

⪼ Where are you?

Three little words.

No greeting. No warmth. Not even a damn explanation.

Just three little words. A simple query that you debate long and hard on responding, aware of what it would lead to if you do.

You swallow dryly, exhaling low as a decision is made. With a click, you turn off your phone screen and stash it away in your purse.

The nightlife then resumes.

“Hey, you okay?”

Glancing up, you see that your date has finally returned from a quick trip to the restroom. Tom had been his name, or maybe it was Tim? Todd? You couldn’t recall what it was, no matter how much you tried. But you figure that remembering is moot at this point. The evening had been slow, extremely uneventful, and excruciating. A sad truth, but you’d prefer to head home now than waste any more of your time with someone you had zero interest in.

“Uh, yeah,” you lie, smiling a bit to seem convincing. “I’m good, just tired. It’s getting late, and I have work early tomorrow.”

“Oh, alright. I understand. I can drop you home if you’d like?”

You’re quick to shake your head at the offer. “No, it’s fine. I-I’m gonna call a taxi—”

His name flashes across your mind once more, and you swear your heart may have skipped a beat or two.

No. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t.

You promised that the last time you saw each other would be it— that you would entertain him no more. But then vivid memories of that day rush over you. His mouth, his hands, his cock; the way he held you down that had you screaming for him, and how he’d left you utterly sore for the next few days.

That had been nearly two months ago, and since then, you were certain that no other man could ever compare to him.

No other man could be like Jake Lockley.

Your cell vibrates, and without missing a beat, you retrieve it. Two unread texts stare back at you, and it sends a thrill in your bones.

⪼ Come outside.

⪼ Now.

It doesn’t phase you how one minute ago, Jake was asking for your location when he had already known where you were. Much of him is still a mystery to you, but the parts that you have learned, you found exciting, thrilling. Even if Jake couldn’t give you all that you want, you’re certain that he’d give you what you need, as it’s only he that could kindle the fire inside you and satiate your desires the way no one else could.

“I-I have to go,” you nervously stammer as you throw a twenty-dollar bill on the table and hurry out of the building.

You ignore your date’s voice hoping that he’d see you soon, cursing yourself for being an asshole, for falling back to old habits. Every time Jake contacted you, you’d drop everything to meet with him. Didn’t matter what it was; you were at his beck and call. He’d have his way with you for as long as he wanted and then drop off the face of the earth, only resurfacing when he needs you again.

It’s a never-ending cycle when it comes to Jake. He’d fuck you, and you’d be satisfied, then he leaves for god knows how long, and you’d be angry at his absence. Then as time went on, you started yearning for more, something which he simply couldn’t provide.

But still, he was your drug, your poison. He was your ruin. An inescapable addiction.

And you’d rather have him as such than not have him at all.

Chicago is cold at this time of night; the slight chill in the air is sharp against your exposed skin. You search around looking for Jake, which didn’t take too long. You spot him standing just a block away from the bar, leaning against his all-too-familiar cab with a lit cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth.

Heels clicking on the pavement, Jake doesn’t spare a glance in your direction. He remains stationary, surrounded by a cloud of gray that his lungs have exhaled. The tension in his jaw and his scorching glare are quite alarming; you’d recognize what that expression meant even from a distance.

You feel your pulse spike. Jake was prone to display his anger at others but never has he directed it at you.

Yet, when you neared him enough, his face still flushes with rage. One final inhale, and Jake tosses the cigarette to the ground, his unwavering eyes much darker than you recall them to be. He crosses his arms tightly across his chest, and you suddenly feel small next to him, helpless.

“Had a good time back there?” he asks you, his voice dripping with spite. “Thought you’d never leave.”

“How the hell did you even know where I was?” you snap in return.

Jake chuckles mirthlessly. “I always know where you are, princesa. So imagine my surprise after finding out you’re here with another man.”

“We’re not exclusive,” you remind him bitterly. “You don’t have any say in that regard.”

“Really? Tell me why you’re out here with me then, hmm?”

You stay silent, unable to look Jake in the eye. You had an answer, but for his attitude alone, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing the reason why.

“Guessing the guy was boring, huh? Was it because he wasn’t me?”

Again, you don’t respond, and neither do you react. But when a smirk slowly makes its way across Jake’s face, you realize that there’s no reason to.

He already knows.

Digging your nails into your palm, you stand quietly for what seems like a ceaseless moment. It only breaks after Jake curtly turns around, jerking the backseat door open. “Get in.”

“Where are we going?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he scowls, beckoning you to enter the car. “You and I are going on a little drive and have a nice chat while we’re at it.”

“And if I say no?” you pose, raising a brow.

Your breath catches in your throat as Jake takes one step forward, leaning close enough that you can smell the lingering tobacco smoke. A tingle rushes across your skin as his icy stare keeps you silent, his hand coming up to caress your cheek with the back of a calloused finger. In a single stroke, he causes your heart to stumble over its own rhythm, and your body quivers almost pathetically at his mere touch.

Jake never fails to have this effect on you. He comes across as intimidating, void of any tenderness or warmth. You’d initially thought that you’d grown weary of his ways. You crave sweetness now. Someone who’s softer, kinder. Someone who could show you genuine care, love, and affection. In his absence, you’d been searching for it, hoping that you’d be able to move on when you do find that someone.

But Jake always comes back. Whether he’d disappear for days, weeks, or even months, he’d always come back.

Back to Chicago, to his menial job as a taxi driver.

Back to you.

And you’d always find yourself waiting for his return, knowing that you could never deny him despite all.

“I asked you nicely the first time,” Jake mutters, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Don’t make me ask again.”

Your gazes connect for a split second. You’re not quite sure of it, but something else is hidden behind those earthy eyes. They were still as intense as ever, yet you could sense a slight difference in them that you couldn’t easily point out.

Finally relenting, you climb inside the back of his taxi before Jake shuts the door close, taking his time getting into the driver’s seat. You sit there watching as he drives out onto the street, the silence in the cab tangible, unnerving.

You decide to change that.

“So, you’re back, huh?” you start, noticing Jake peering through the rearview mirror.

He nods in response, adding nothing more.

“Been gone for almost two months. Gonna tell me what you were up to?”

Jake shakes his head, his eyes focused on the road ahead. “Don’t need to know, baby.”

“God, for all I know, you’re probably involved in some shady shit,” you mumble disapprovingly.

You find it funny, really. How you think you know Jake so intimately when, in reality, you barely know him at all.

“Is that why you’ve been fucking others now? ‘Cus you think I’m a bad guy?”

“Honestly, Jake, I don’t know what to believe. You don’t tell me anything. And why does that matter? You just expect me to twiddle with my thumbs and not worry about what’s going on with you while you’re gone?”

The cab hits a sudden stop, nearly running a red light. Jake curses under his breath, now refusing to look at you.

You sigh deeply. “Why is it so wrong for me to care about you?”

“It’s complicated,” he grumbles in a low breath as if he doesn’t want you to hear it.

But you did.

A beat of silence. The tension inside is so thick that you could feel the physical weight of it. You ponder what Jake means by that, “It’s complicated.” There’s an urge to question him, to poke and prod until he finally caves. But you know better than to do that. You always do.

Yet, how much more of this can you take?

“I want more, you know?” you remark softly as the car moves again. “I want more for us.”

“Cariño…” he murmurs before turning the car into an empty alleyway and shutting off the engine. “I can’t give you that.”

“And why not, Jake?” you huff, hearing him unbuckle his seatbelt. “Please, just explain it to me. Break my heart then because I’m tired. I’m tired of always coming back to you, desperately clinging onto shreds of hope that maybe one day we could be something more than what we are right now.”

Jake doesn’t answer. Instead, he swings the door open and barges out of the car, where he then paces angrily back and forth. You follow him outside shortly after; the bitter breeze billowing makes it feel as though pins and needles are pricking into your body, but you’re too exasperated to care.

“You feel the same, don’t you?” you press at him. “Because why else would you get angry after catching me with someone else?

“Fuck— stop!” Jake fumes, and you stumble back into the bricked wall of the building. “If you’re tired of me, leave. Don’t answer my calls or texts then. Just forget that I even exist!”

“Trust me, I’ve tried. Every time you reach out, I try my damndest best not to answer. Hell, I was pleading with myself not to give in tonight. But like always, I can’t seem to say no to you. I’m drawn to you like a fucking magnet, and it’s exhausting.”

Chest heaving, you don’t immediately realize that tears are flowing down your face. Jake has you caged in, his eyes scrutinizing before softening the slightest bit. It’s subtle, but you recognize the look from earlier. Almost apologetic, regretful, forlorn…

Vulnerability was never Jake’s strong suit. But you can see it in his eyes, how he’s fighting to keep his walls up even though they were already starting to collapse.

“I can’t give you what you want,” he whispers to you. “I-I just can’t.”

Your gaze falters to the ground. “Then we have to let each other go. We can’t keep doing this, Jake.”

“But I—”

He stops abruptly, unable to bring himself to finish his sentence. The next several seconds pass by without a word or a movement. A finger under your chin slowly tilts your face upwards, and you’re met with Jake’s steady gaze. Your breaths mingle at the sudden proximity, his hand reaching to rest against your cheek.

Under the faint glow of the moonlight, his hardened exterior cracks as he holds you there tenderly.

“I don’t think I can ever let you go, hermosa,” he reveals, his lips just a hair away from meeting yours. “Because that’s the thing, I do care about you. I care about you so fucking much.”

Jake then kisses you. Forcefully, possessively. Rough, as if his entire life depends on it. So much so that it knocks the wind out of you. It takes you a moment to kiss him back with equal fervor, desperately clutching at his hair in an effort to pull him in closer. He swallows the sweet, seductive noises you make, your mouth and tongue working tirelessly to devour his own, drawing out something hungry in him. Reawakening something carnal from deep within, the very same lust that keeps you coming back time and time again.

A stuttered gasp escapes your lips when he briefly breaks for air, his hands gripping tightly at your waist. It nearly makes you crumble to your knees, the way you could feel his searing touch through your clothes. Panting, you follow his wandering eyes as they trail down lower and lower and lower, reaching the end of your pretty little black dress that is now riding high up on your thighs.

You bite the edge of your bottom lip, blood beginning to rush in your ears as the rough pads of Jake’s fingertips brush against your soft flesh. The touch alone elicits a breathy moan from you. Your thighs press together needily, bringing an enraptured smirk to his lips. He backs you up flush against the wall, gripping your wrists in one hand to pin them over your head, the other cupping your aching sex, and you sharply inhale.

“You’re dripping wet, baby,” he husks into your ear, and you let out a whimper. “All this for me, huh?”

Barely nodding a response, a dark chuckle then reverberates in Jake’s chest as two digits dip into your heat, coating them with your dewy essence. You whine out impatiently when he suddenly drags them back out, pausing to admire the juices that slick his fingers before greedily sucking them off, moaning at the taste.

“Delicious, just like last time,” Jake rasps, his hand returning to where you need him the most. “But no panties tonight? Such a bad, bad girl...”

“F-Fuck…” you cry out as you feel him deep in your pussy, pumping in and out, in and out. Jake’s palm grinds against your clit, and you see fucking stars. Meanwhile, his lips busy themselves at your neck, nipping and sucking small bruises onto you, leaving marks for all to see and a few that are solely for him.

It’s torturous, the pace Jake sets. Teasing and frustrating. You know he’s only doing this because he had caught you with another man earlier. A punishment for straying away from him, knowing that you are his and his alone.

“Jake, p-please— more. I need more…” you keen at him, frantically rutting your hips against his hand, yet it was still not enough.

“Need more of what, princesa? I need to hear you say it. Say it out loud.”

“Fucking hell, you’re mouth.” you start begging with a broken voice. “Please, Jake…I-I need your mouth. Need it on me now, just— please....”

“That’s more like it,” Jake growls, showing pity by sinking to his knees in an instant and pushing your dress all the way up until it was finally off, discarding it haphazardly by your feet.

You shiver as the cold night air hits you, your arms rushing to shield your unclad form. Goosebumps cover your body as you scan your surroundings, briefly wary of any passersby and prying eyes. This isn’t the first time Jake has had you while out in public; the man had quite an exhibitionism streak. Yet, you never seem to care at the moment— too enthralled by the sensations he brought to think of such.

And tonight is no different. You’re touch-starved, too drunk with dizzying arousal to fear being caught. Too intoxicated to even have the slightest bit of mind on the way your bare back digs against the harsh surface of the wall. Your attention is only on Jake and how his hot breath on your slit has you clenching in anticipation. Ravishing eyes then drag upward, his intense stare committing your skin before him to memory. Your heart pounds in your chest as you let him drink you in, your arms lowering back to your sides to give him a better view.

“Eres toda mía, mía y solo mía,” you hear Jake repeating in his dark and silken voice. It’s barely over a whisper, but you catch it. You secretly love it when he speaks in Spanish, even if you don’t understand what he’s saying most of the time. However, hearing the way the words effortlessly roll off his tongue, combined with the gravelly tone of his voice, has you completely soaking.

A high-pitched shout punctuates the air once Jake’s warm and wet tongue delves into your folds. It has you reaching for his dark curls with your shaking hands, pulling and tugging and squeezing as he expertly laps at your pussy. He hooks a leg over his shoulder, pressing his face further into your cunt while his thick fingers return to explore your warmth. You shut your eyes tightly as your head spins, the delicious medley of your breathy moans, Jake’s strained grunts, and the slick, wet sounds of his ministrations echoing in the low-lit alleyway.

“R-Right there, Jake, fuck! God, please don’t stop, don’t stop, d-don’t stop, ahh—” His tongue circles your pulsating clit round and round, flicking it back and forth in a move that causes you to arch your hips into his mouth. He holds you down with his free hand as you squirm above him, the taut coil in your stomach quickly unraveling. You chant his name over and over as you shove fingers into your mouth, muffling the pleasured screams that threaten to burst.

The moment Jake’s eyes flicker up to yours, pupils wide-blown, dark and lustful, your orgasm comes in crashing waves. The piercing sensation of pleasure makes your toes curl. Your body trembles and shakes violently as you cry out wantonly into the night. If it weren’t for the pair of strong arms circling around your waist, you would have slid down onto the floor, your legs now limp and unable to carry your weight any longer.

Your vision is still quite hazy as Jake rises up to his height, a cocky grin curling at his lips. Chin glistening with your wetness, you could tell how fucking proud he is of himself for making you come so hard, so fast.

You don’t hesitate to pull his pretty face in for a deep kiss. It’s hot and messy, and you savor the taste of yourself on his tongue as it intertwines with yours. Jake groans with a hiss when your hand cups his bulge through his pants, feeling just how hard he is in there. Nimble fingers unbuckle his belt, then unzips, your hand quickly slipping into his boxers and wrapping around his throbbing cock.

Jake detaches his mouth from yours as you stroke him from base to tip, then back again, and his hips jerk wildly in response. He exhales shakily, his lips returning to yours as his hands move up to palm your breasts. He’s hot and heavy in your hold, slick with his precum, and all you could think of is how badly you wanted to taste him.

“Not tonight, mi amor,” Jake unexpectedly says when you lower yourself to the ground. Mi amor— my love. He’s never called you that before. You wonder if it’s merely a slip of the tongue or whether there’s a genuine meaning behind it, but a slow warmth blooms in you at the chance that perhaps there’s something more to those words. “I’m not gonna last long, baby. Still need to feel you on my cock. I-I just need you right fucking now.”

“Okay,” you whisper breathily, and he kisses you once more.

With unsteady steps, Jake leads you to the backseat of his cab. It’s small and cramped, not the most comfortable place, but the two of you are too desperate for each other to give a shit. Inside, you swiftly help him out of his clothes, tossing each article to the front before he pulls you to straddle over his lap, his leaking and pulsing length sliding against your folds teasingly.

Slowly, you sink down on his dick. Your cunt immediately tightens around Jake, drawing him in deeper and deeper until he’s buried to the hilt. You grit your teeth at how huge he feels inside, wincing at the sheer girth of it. The sweet, sweet burn of his cock stretching you is purely divine, and it fills you up to brim oh so heavenly; you would have come right then and there.

“Fuck, baby, look at you,” Jake drawls, his large hands squeezing at your hips. “You look so beautiful sitting on my cock like this. Shit, you feel so good, too. So tight. So fucking tight...”

A growl rumbles in his throat as he begins thrusting up into you, the motion hitting that delicious spot deep inside. It has you grabbing at his back, moaning noisily as you cling onto him hard, hardened nipples pressed to his toned chest. The tips of your blunt nails scratch at his tanned skin, selfishly leaving crescent-shaped marks in your wake. This riles up Jake, his pace becoming more brutal, rougher, harder. Just the way you like it. The way you’re addicted to. He doesn’t lose momentum as you continue to claw at him, his name pouring out of your lips like sin.

You’re there. Almost fucking there. You can feel your climax building and building as you meet Jake thrust after thrust. The air smells like sweat and arousal, and the sounds of his strangled grunts mixed with the slapping of his cock against your core drive you absolutely wild. He’s slamming his hips, and you throw your head back in a silent scream when Jake takes the opportunity to wrap his fingers around the column of your throat. He puts the slightest bit of pressure, not a lot to hurt you but just enough to make you feel alive.

“Like that, princesa? You liked being choked, don’t ya?” Jake taunts, his lips parting more for a moan to escape. You pick up the urgency of his movements, his hips now stuttering, rhythm becoming messier and sloppier as he too nears the edge. “You’re gonna come soon, huh? Come on, baby. T-That’s it— fuck! I want you to come, sweetheart. Fucking come… come now for me— shiiit…”

It hits you hard like a freight train; your release this time is unlike any other before. Surging, cascading, and too damn electrifying. White-hot ecstacy courses through your veins, and it’s blinding. You milk Jake’s manhood with a hitched cry, your pussy gushing out juices that drench his upper thighs and the leather seat under him.

Slumping against him with your soft whining in his ear, he fucks you through your orgasm, pounding into you without restraint. No longer could Jake stifle the groans that were filling up the car, growing louder and gruffer the closer he was to completion. He grips your jaw without warning, forcing you to look at him when he suddenly tenses, twitches and stills. You mewl softly as Jake coats your sensitive walls with his creamy seed, finishing deep inside you the way it’s always meant to be. His hands knead at your waist until the shock waves rippling through him eventually subside. He rests his head against the valley of your breasts, his breath slowing to the pace of yours.

You lean back slightly, ready to push yourself off of Jake and roll to the empty seat beside him. But before you can, the arms around your body tighten, keeping you right where you are.

“No,” he mumbles into your skin. “Don’t go. Just… stay. Stay with me.”

Jake presses a kiss to the side of your neck, and you don’t have the heart to disconnect from him so soon.

Minutes pass by, and you don’t move nor say a word. Neither of you does. Neither of you wanted to. You fear that anything you do will end this perfect moment. Afraid that doing something would bring an end to what is the most serene afterglow. It’s as if reality will come rushing back once the silence breaks, and tonight will become yet another memory in the past to hold onto at your lonesome.

But… what is reality now after this?

Jake cares. He actually cares. All this time, you were led to believe that he only saw you as a means of pleasure. His plaything that belonged to no one else. But after this evening, you’re certain that he sees you as more than just that.

“I was in London for the last two months,” he shares with you, tone quiet and soothing. “I had to take care of a friend there. Two of them, actually. Thought you should know.”

“Oh,” you acknowledge softly. “Is everything okay with them?”

“Yeah, they’re fine now. We got into some trouble, and— well, long story short, we were able to sort it out.”

“Good. That’s good to hear,” you intone, feeling his fingers lightly running along your spine.

You’re not quite used to this side of Jake. The side where a certain softness to him is now bared to you. Sweeping his fallen curls away from his eyes, you notice that all the harsh lines on his face have eased. He wears a faint smile, one you don’t see too often, but you could feel the sincerity behind it. It makes your heart flutter when his smile widens the longer you stare at him, and he kisses you there, longingly and deeply.

Jake kisses you, and you melt into it. Into him. You sigh softly into his mouth before he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out. “There’s a lot that you still don’t know about me. I want to tell you, but— look, I’m fucked up more than you think. I have a shit load of baggage, the type that no one should carry but me.”

“Jake—”

“Sweetheart, let me finish,” Jake interjects, his fingers intertwining with yours as he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. “I want us to be something more. You’re worth a lot to me, and I really want to try having that with you, but—”

“Baby,” you call out firmly yet gently. Enough that he stops and really listens to you.“I want that too. I want to have that with you. And I don’t care how fucked up you think you are because you’re not, Jake. I know there’s something that’s eating you up, and that’s why you’ve been so distant from the beginning. You don’t have to tell me now, but when the time comes, I promise you that I’m not going to leave you for it. I’m going to stay here and fight because you’re worth a lot to me, too.”

There’s a silence. Jake remains speechless, carefully ruminating over your words. You lose hope bit by bit the longer you wait for him to speak, your mouth already parting to reason with him, but a soft chuckle out loud puts an end to your attempt.

“You’re not letting me go that easily, are ya?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m not, and you know how stubborn I can be.”

“That I do,” he adds, laughing a little. “We’re really doing this? Gonna be exclusive, go on dates, hold hands, and all that lovey-dovey b.s.?”

“Hey, you did call me mi amor at some point earlier. I know you can be romantic under all that brooding, Lockley.”

“Fuck, you heard that, huh?”

“Of course I did, mi amor,” you tease him. “See, you’re a bigger softie than what you lead others to believe.”

Jake casts you a stern yet playful glare, and you erupt in a fit of giggles. You savor these blissful moments, these brand new, fleeting seconds of tenderness that makes you warm and happy. And it makes him warm and happy, too. You realize that the more he smiles and smiles and smiles.

You hadn’t seen Jake this way before, and it’s quite a beautiful sight.

He looks good happy. He looks good there being with you.

Nuzzling back into his chest, your heart glows with adoration at the gentle thought of how this feels wonderful.

How you and him together— limbs still tangled, flushed skin to skin, sweaty, and sticky and a mess— feels all too perfect in the world and oh so right.

You’re unsure of what the future holds for you and Jake. But now, at this moment in time, you decide not to wonder, not to guess or think or doubt. Rather, you choose to sink further into his warm embrace. Because you recognize that this— being there with him, cocooned in his arms as the late night quietude fades on— is paradise, a place you’ve only tasted in your dreams.

- ☾-

taglist: @dopeqfff @liaaacantwrite​ @raging-trash-of-mind​

—let me know if you want to be added/removed!

**due to the content of this fic, i will not be tagging blogs that do not state that they are 18+.

***special thanks to @a-mercurialhigh for helping me out so much with the pet names and that one line in spanish. you’re an absolute doll!

[fanficsat12am]

how the brothers react to you wiping their kiss off prank I Leviathan, Satan & Asmodeus

Lucifer & Mammon Beelzebub & Belphegor

Leviathan

This poor boy is super insecure, often calling himself “ a yucky otaku”. He’s surprised you even find anything redeeming in him and thinks that he’s not deserving of the love you give him.

Levi tried to be the best boyfriend for you. He’s terrified that you’ll realize how pathetic he is and leave.

He thought he was doing pretty good at his little IRL dating sim. So it was completely out of nowhere when you decided to wipe his kiss off after winning a round in his new game.

His mind just went blank, thinking of where he went wrong. Did he say something to offend you? Were you tired of just watching him play all day? Did you want him to spend more time with you? Or was it just him? Did you finally get tired of him?

He doesn’t even notice himself crying until you wipe the tears quickly running down his face. He immediately clings to you, laying his head on your shoulder, and starts begging you to stay.

“I know I’m just a yuckie otaku, but please give me another chance. I swear I'll try even harder just p-please don't give up on me”

A deep pit or guilt starts to form in your stomach. You underestimated how low Levi thinks of himself. His tears start to seep into your shirt, a wet patch quickly forming.

You start to pet his head, reassuring him that you weren’t going to leave him. After a few minutes, his breathing starts to steady and he lifts his head up–bloodshot eyes staring back at you.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a prank. So you made an excuse instead, telling him that your lips just felt a little wet afterwards.

After that, you made sure to earn his trust back by waking him up everyday with a text message on one of the many things you love about him. Because of this, he always goes down to breakfast with a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

Satan

For as long as he can remember, reading had always been his favorite hobby. He’s never really been the type to demon to look at words at its surface value. He reads between the lines and finds that a great book is built with the attention to the smallest of details.

Because of this, Satan has always treasured the smallest gestures you do for him. He finds that these small doings are what makes a relationship special.

You wiped his kiss while you were reading a book with him one morning. He’ll notice of course and instead of asking you about it shrugged it off and thought nothing of it. Maybe he had some coffee on his lips or something, trying to convince himself rationalize why you’d do that.

The cycle continues the rest of the day, with him kissing you and you wiping it away. He starts to pout after the third time you wipe it. On top of all the books he’s read, romance novels were no stranger to him. He learned that it was best to give the other party some time to themself and not to push anything out of them. But that didn’t make the situation better.

He finally snaps the next day and just outright asks you in the privacy of your room. He starts to bang on your door and enters when he hears your approval. You smile at him, asking him if he needed something.

“My Kitten, did I do something to cross you? I tried giving you some space but I still can’t figure out what you need. If you’re falling out of love with me, please tell me so. I don’t want to see you up and leave without an explanation at least”

Through Satan’s little ramble, he started to pace back and forth in your room. He looked like he was trying to solve one of the greatest mysteries to ever unfold, connecting clues left and right.

You finally got tired after 30 minutes of him asking if you got drugged by an anti-love potion. You gently took his hands in yours and told him it was a prank. His brain just froze at that moment. You pranked a prankster like him? Oh he’s so gonna get you back for that.

Watch out for your back for the next few weeks. This man will be planning the greatest prank on you with Belphie. Either that or he’ll get revenge by placing a “24 hours no cuddles'' rule on you and will stay in his room all day. Eventually his ban crumbles on him, Satan missing you after a few hours and goes looking for you.

Asmodeus

Even though he’s the Avatar of Lust, he finds short and sweet kisses just as loving as those he’s given in times of passion. He’s a very clingy person and makes sure to give you as much affection as he can whenever you’re together.

The brothers usually find a trace of Asmo’s lipstick somewhere on you– a symbol that no matter where you are, he’s there with you.

At first he didn’t really see you wiping it away, only noticing once he saw that his makeup was nowhere to be seen on you. He immediately leapt from his seat and gave you a big kiss on your cheek, the blemish dark enough for anyone to see. He was about to go lay back down on the couch but he sees you grab a tissue and start wiping away the mark.

Who do you think you are to wipe his kiss away? This is definitely not gonna fly with him. Without a word, he stands up and makes a beeline towards his room. He comes back, the darkest shade of lipstick in hand accompanied by a suspicious grin on his face.

He takes the cap off, places a generous amount on his lips, and pulls you to him by your waist. Before you can even comprehend what’s happening, your face is littered by his kisses.

“Go ahead and try wiping them off, Dearie. If I see even one of them missing, trust me when I say that your face won't be the only thing I’m marking with my lips”

Knowing him, you know that he wasn’t afraid to come through with his little threat. So you just dropped the prank and told him everything.

Before you can even finish explaining everything, he picks you up and carries you back to his room. He places you on his bed and whispers “I’ll make sure to leave marks that’ll last for weeks, Darlin”

[phoenixyfriend]

Keep the Jedi Out of It

With input from @atagotiak (Tia), @gelpenss (Gel), and @thisarenotarealblog (Doc).

Standard initial premise: Clones take over the Republic after Fox kills Palpatine.

Fun AU Twist: in order to keep people from trying to fuck over the Jedi, and also as a backup because they trust the Jedi to at least try to save them after the initial hubbub goes down, and also as a bit of a vindication for those who don't like their Jedi... the clones arrest all the Jedi and just keep them in the brigs etc. until they figure out how to break the news to the galaxy that Palpatine was a bigger problem than previously anticipated.

"Why did the Jedi not stop you?" "Great question! We arrested them." "...all of them?" "Yes." "On what grounds?" "On 'they would have stopped us from killing the Chancellor' grounds."

"The Jedi couldn't stop you from arresting them?" "We just kind of told them 'here, hold this' and then put the force cuffs on. It was really easy, actually, they trust us way too much, it's kinda scary. A few of them passed out without the Force to keep them awake and the medics got pissed they hadn't been sleeping." "...you're saying you did this for their own good?" "No, we did it so we could kill the Chancellor."

Tia:

Anakin would def be upset. What would the other jedi be like? Mostly exasperated? I imagine a few would be like “well I guess I’m stuck here. I’m gonna have a nap”

Doc:

Obiwan finds a corner he likes and conks out in 5 minutes with the power of long experience

Gel:

At least one or more of the Jedi is like. WEIRDLY zen about it. Like “yeah if he arrested me there’s DEFINITELY a good reason and they’ll all tell me eventually”

Like the reason O66 worked in large part was that the Jedi trusted the clones, which means that you could easily argue that without even murder-of-said-Jedi on the mind, it would be even easier to just. Trick them.

Rex was uncomfortable about arresting Anakin for "Palpatine's his friend and he'll hate me" reasons so Kix just arrested both of them himself. They don't tell Anakin what's going on even when he grills Rex in their shared cell. Anakin's under the impression this is a 'you haven't been taking care of yourself' medic arrest.

Ahsoka had to share a cell with Yularen and they played cards because Ahsoka wanted to work on her Sabacc-without-Force-Cheating skills.

Some of the arrested Jedi have tea parties with the clones who arrested them. Mostly I'm imagining this as being Mundi. Bacara is off handling Various Things and the shinies put in place to guard Ki-Adi while the Coruscant problem is handled just sit down and have some tea with him while he teaches them Jedi philosophy, because Mundi strikes me as very "grandpa tells you stories to try and relate to the youth and he's not great at it but he sure is trying to be a good grandpa, and he's a bit out of the loop but he's putting in the effort, he got you some of those Pokey-mans you like for the holidays and everything."

"It's been three days, are you going to tell me why this was all necessary?" "Chancellor's a Sith Lord." "WHAT?" "It's fine, Fox killed him, but we couldn't have the Jedi stopping us, or like... getting accused of organizing it. So we just arrested, uh... everyone over the age of three?"

Tia:

Im just imagining Depa in a cell, sometime before the assassination is done: Grey: yeah so we’re killing Palpatine, for uh. Reasons. Depa: well I feel like I should disapprove, but….

Gel:

Anakin is spinning conspiracies about mind control because why else would they do this and the clones are just like. 😬“well yes but actually no”

Cody: No hard feelings but we do need Fox to do the plan. Chancellor's evil. Obi-Wan, not at all convincingly, especially after the explanation: Oh no... the Chancellor... whatever shall I do... Cody: ...do I even need to put you in cuffs? Obi-Wan: For the sake of protocol, yes.

Doc:

Ponds: we're going to kill the chancellor Mace, who got pressured to give the chancellor access to a 10-year old: legally, I cannot endorse this.

"We arrested the Jedi." "...and they LET you?" "Yeah, they assumed it was for a plan, which it was, but they assumed it was 'we're being watched by Separatists, play along' reasons and not, you know, killing the Chancellor."

Bly: General Secura, you're under arrest. Aayla: Wh--On what charges? Bly: Uh.... it's a sex thing? Aayla: ..............sure, why not.

Monnk: General Fisto, you're under arrest. Kit: Why? Monnk: ....reasons. Kit: ........yeah, okay.

Nobody even bothers to tell Shaak Ti, she's so far away that she can't do anything and really they just. Don't tell her she has a long-distance call coming in.

The only Jedi that don't just get arrested with zero fuss are the ones that are in active battle zones far enough away that it's not worth the deaths that would follow, Anakin, and 'I don't trust clones' types like Krell.

And the ones in-Temple, which is admittedly a lot, but we're going to ignore that and say the clones just triggered a reactive shut-down protocol that had metal going over windows and stuff.

[pmitchell]

me, myself and i. | jake “hangman” seresin x reader

request from @the-untamed-soul

prompt: So, after hearing Hangman’s playlist, I was intrigued that one of his songs was “Me, Myself and I” by G-Eazy. It sparks the possibility of an angsty story with Hangman x reader who he keeps pushing away…? I just find this an interesting song choice for this man and begs so many questions.

warnings: Some real aNGSTY shit going on around here. Some curse words here and there. Oh, and there isn’t exactly a happy ending 👀

pairings: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader

word count: 1,910 (7 minutes reading time)

author’s notes: Had to create some headcanons for Jake for this to work, but let me know what you think!

EDIT: the highly anticipated part two is right here!

It wouldn’t be Jake if he didn’t try to pick fights with someone. You knew he and Rooster were not exactly friends, but you thought they would have put that behind when they left TOPGUN the first time. Everyone agreed that Hangman crossed the line this time, bringing up Rooster’s dad and the fact that he used to be Maverick’s RIO. 

Everyone was at The Hard Deck enjoying drinks and taking over the pool table when you saw a glimpse of Jake walking along the beach behind the bar all by himself. You took your beer with you and slipped out back, catching up to him as he took a seat on the sand, looking at the ocean.

“Hey,” you said, as you took a seat next to him. He didn’t reply, simply looking up at you to acknowledge your presence. You handed him your beer, which he accepted with a small smile and took a swig of.

“You okay?” You asked.

“I’m good,” he winked at you and then looked back out into the ocean as the sun started to set.

“You know you crossed a line, right?” You asked rhetorically.

He looked at you and said, “Are you gonna lecture me? Because if so, I’d rather sit here alone.”

You sighed. “Okay then,” you simply said, giving up. You knew there was nothing else you could do. If he wanted to shut you out like this––like he always does––then what’s the use of even trying. So you stood up and dusted yourself off, walking back to the bar as a loud music begin to play on the jukebox. 

“(Y/N)-,” he tried to call for you, but you could no longer hear him because you had already opened the door to your tipsy friends singing and dancing along to the music. 

Before closing the door, you looked back at him. He was chugging the rest of the beer and then he stood up and left. 

The two of you first met in college; both of you were a political science major and you had always known you wanted to be a naval aviator, continuing your mother’s legacy, and that was something you and Jake had in common. It was how the two of you started to bond with each other. 

He saw a photo of you and your mother wearing her uniform and it started a conversation of what made the two of you want to enlist in the Navy. One thing led to another, the two of you began to date. You wanted something more from him, though. You wanted a commitment, or at least for both of you to equally put in the effort to try.

But that’s not who he is. After almost a year of false promises on forevers on his end, he decided to break things off. No explanations; not even a goodbye. 

“Why?” You once asked, tears prickling your eyes.

“(Y/N), please. Don’t make this harder than it already is,” he said, refusing to look at you in the eye. “I’m leaving for the Navy on graduation day, I just don’t think this is gonna work out in the long run, alright? I don’t wanna hurt you with long distance because I’m not sure where I’ll be,” Jake tried to make an excuse.

You knew what it was though: the two of you were getting too serious for him and he always had a history of ending things before it got anywhere. Of course, he had to make it seem like he was doing it for you, because Jake Seresin and his ego would never let himself be in the wrong or be the bad guy, even when he was always the one looking for trouble. Just like he said, you didn’t see him at graduation. You heard from his friends that he had already enlisted in the Navy and never looked back. 

When the two of you met again at TOPGUN the first time, you admit there was a small part of you that still hoped for something. With his continued teasing and subtle references to your past, you thought he did too. But of course, you should’ve known better, because not long after the two of you rekindled your friendship, he was sleeping with your best friend.

A few days after his fight with Rooster, you were sound asleep; somehow dreaming about flight training when you heard a loud banging noise. Someone was knocking and banging on your canopy, asking to be let in. Wait, that’s not right. You were slowly roused out of your slumber and realized that someone was banging on your door. 

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed as you yanked the door open to reveal Jake, still in the clothes you saw him wear last, yet somehow looking a little more disheveled. “What are you doing? It’s 3 o’clock in the morning!” You frowned, looking out into the hallway, hoping no one was awakened by the noise.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Jake grinned, his body slumped against your doorframe. “Were you sleeping?” With the question, you noticed his speech was slurred and his body swayed a little.

“Are you drunk?” You asked. 

“Yep,” he nodded, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis.

“Go to bed, Hangman. You’re gonna get in trouble for this,” you reprimanded him and went to close the door before he stopped you. 

“Wait,” he said, hand against your door and foot stuck in between. “I-I, uh...” he tried to speak.

You sighed. “You’re sorry, I know,” you said, understanding that it was a routine when it comes to him. He never meant any of it, it was just his default setting having to throw a snide comment here and there. “Just forget about it, okay?” 

Before you could close the door on him, he lunged forward and kissed you, kicking the door close behind him. You could taste the beer he consumed on his lips and his breath, yet you could also smell his cologne wafting around you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You pushed him off before it could go any further.

“I never should’ve let you go,” he said, moving forward to kiss you again. This time, you dodged him. 

“Stop. You’re drunk,” you said, holding up a hand to keep him at a distance.

Jake sighed exasperatedly, he took a seat on your bed and buried his head in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice somewhat muffled by his own hand.

You sat on the desk across from him, and rolled your eyes a little. You already knew he was going to say that; it was his routine with you. And the thing is, you felt as if you should count yourself lucky because he doesn’t just say it to anyone, not even the people he hurt. Even with you, sometimes it felt as though he was just saying it to appease you. 

He looked up in time to see your expression and said, “I mean it. I am sorry.”

“For what?” You asked, wanting to see if he actually meant it.

“Everything,” Jake began. “The way I treated you; the way I always took you for granted...” he trailed off, staring blankly at your feet as if trying to figure out how to phrase the next sentence. “For hurting you over and over again.”

“Did you hit your head on the canopy during training today?” You asked.

He tried to chuckle, but instead it just turned into a small smile. “Why do you put up with me, (Y/N)?” He asked.

“Because I can see that I’m the last one who would,” you answered, not really thinking much about your answer. Jake didn’t reply, instead he kept looking at you, wanting a serious answer.

“Because despite everything that has happened, you’re the only person who has known me longer than anyone else. I’d like to think you’d have my back too,” you shrugged. Your statement wasn’t a complete lie, but you had only scratched the surface with it.

“Of course I got your back,” he said to you. “What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“No one would be patient enough to put up with the shit I put you through,” he shook his head. “I broke your heart once. Heck, I ran away to Afghanistan and Iraq just to get away from how guilty I felt about all of it. And then we met again after all those years, and yet you treated me like...normal,” Jake explained his confusion. “I honestly thought you would go ballistic on me.”

You smiled a little, remembering the first days of TOPGUN when you entered The Hard Deck and saw him at the pool table; you felt your heart plunge to your stomach. It had been years since you saw him last, and now you were both the 1% of naval aviators good enough to be admitted into the program. You were going to have to compete against him, yet you don’t even know how to behave around him. But seeing him that first day, you realized, you had put the whole thing behind you; it’s just that you were not sure if your feelings for him are completely gone yet.

“Is that why you were such an ass to me back then? Defense mechanism?” You asked, remembering how he used to tease you, constantly getting on your nerves, and of course after the initial annoying stage passed, the thing with your best friend.

Jake chuckled and rubbed his head. “I did love you, you know. I just...I didn’t know how to handle it,” he said. 

Did. For some reason that little detail hurt you more than it should.

“I know,” you said, looking down at your feet.

“(Y/N), I-” Jake said, standing up.

“Don’t, Jake,” you shook your head, subconsciously your hands hugged your body as if to protect yourself from what you know is coming. “I don’t want to go through this again. I don’t know if I can take it anymore,” you said.

In your small room, it only took him two steps to get to where you are. He slipped a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “Give me another chance,” he spoke low.

“We are never going to work if you’re just going to end up pushing me away, Jake. You are so scared of commitment that you don’t even realize you’re doing it,” you told him.

“If there’s one thing I’m bad at, it’s definitely that,” he admitted with a chuckle, a rare occurrence.  

“Yeah, no shit,” you laughed.

“(Y/N), please,” he looked into your eyes.

You reached up and brushed his hair, your thumb brushing his face and he leaned against your hand. You wondered if this was the alcohol talking and you couldn’t risk your future heartbreaks on a couple of beers, some sweet talk, and the feeling of his hands on your waist.

“How about you sober up first and we’ll talk later,” you said. “Go to bed, Jake,”

He took your hand and placed it on his cheek. “I miss you calling me ‘Jakey’,” he said, turning his head and kissing your open palm.

You smiled; you missed that gesture too. Somehow he was the only person to be able to make that gesture feel so special, but you know you had to let go. So you left a last stroke on his face and pulled away.

You opened the door for him. “Goodnight, Jake.”

taglist: @dindjarinneedsahug @thespeeder

[freedomfireflies]

Plssss y/n and harry are at a party that is full of celebrities including The Weeknd (God I love him) and Harry finds out he has dated y/n. (y/n not famous, she is a normal person) lmao I need to see Harry all jealous

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

With a laugh, you slide from the barstool as he approaches, arms finding their way around his neck as he pulls you in for a long overdue hug.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he murmurs, squeezing at your hips once before letting go.

You brush the hair from your face as you lean back, fighting a rather large smile. “Harry invited me,” you tell him, nodding your chin toward the sulking man on the stool behind you. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here?”

Abel laughs, arms crossing in front of his chest. “I didn’t either, but something told me to come out tonight and I guess…now I know why.”

“Please,” you snort, clocking the suggestive look in his eye, but blushing, nonetheless. He always knew the way to your heart was flattery, and you can’t deny that you’re pleased to see your old friend. “How’ve you been?”

He launches into an explanation of his wild week, and you nod appreciatively, listening to each detail as he recalls it. 

You’re excited to see him, having not really heard from him for a few months, although you suppose you understand why. 

But no matter the reason for the disappearance, you give him your undivided attention, happy for the brief connection.

It’s not until Abel begins describing the hassle going on with his label that you feel a familiar arm snake its way around your hip. 

With a subtle tug, you find yourself now sitting firmly on a lap. Harry’s lap, to be specific. And you know him well enough to know the pressure of his fingertips along your hip is indicative of his annoyance.

You smirk, letting your hand rest over top his as Abel continues speaking, oblivious to the subliminal argument you and Harry are currently having.

His knee begins to jostle beneath you, anxious and irritated. You liken it to that of him tapping his wrist impatiently as if telling Abel to hurry the fuck up already.

In return, you squeeze his palm between your fingers. Once. Twice. Calm. Down.

The arm around your waist tightens. Until your back is softly jerked against his chest. No.

You wonder the reason for this behavior. Sure, his jealousy makes an appearance once in a while, but not usually around his own friends. Not in a place like this. And not around someone as sweet as Abel, who is so far back in your past, you can hardly remember it.

Harry’s chin finds your shoulder. Rests there. Jaw clenched. Fingers now tapping your hip. Hurry.

You nestle back into his embrace, relaxing against his large frame as you exhale softly. Easy.

“—so, I wasn’t really sure what to do, you know?” Abel shrugs, glancing toward the rest of the room before looking back. “But what about you, huh? Wasn’t sure I’d see you around for a while.”

Harry’s grip tightens.

“Oh, no, this isn’t really my scene,” you agree quickly, laughing a bit as you straighten up, attempting to loosen the hold on your hip. “But with Harry’s tour starting soon, figured I’d swing by before he heads off.”

“That’s right. That’s so cool, man. Heard it’s is gonna be huge,” Abel replies, eyes flicking to Harry as he offers a supportive grin. “Yeah, hoping to swing by the L.A. show sometime.”

Appreciative of the kind gesture, you offer Abel a thankful smile before glancing over your shoulder toward the still very sullen man keeping you planted to your spot.

You had expected him to at least pretend to look happy. Offer a grin of his own or even return the compliment. Pleasantries having always been his speciality.

But tonight, for some odd reason, he only frowns. “Yeah, thanks…man. Listen—” Suddenly, he’s standing, forcing you from his lap as your feet hit the floor and his fingers weave around your upper arm. “—we gotta head out. Thanks for dropping by, though.”

And with that, you’re gingerly yet forcibly slung toward the direction of the exit.

“Wait, Har—Harry,” you hiss, twisting back around to call a quick, “Sorry! It was so good to see you. Let me know how it goes, yeah?”

“Will do,” Abel laughs, tossing a hand up in greeting before returning to his friends and you return to the 6-foot man-child dragging you out of the party.

“Harry,” you warn as his palm outstretches to shove the double doors open and pull you into the dark night. “Harry, my arm—”

He lets go within an instant once you’re safe and sound on the sidewalk, and you stumble toward a steady footing.

His eyes, narrowed and dark with livid displeasure, find you. He stands tall. Still. Offering no explanation for his behavior as you’re left to brush your hands down your dress.

“The hell was that?” you huff, straightening up as you study him. “Since when do you manhandle me—”

“What the fuck was with you?” he retorts, hands finding his pockets as he jerks his head toward the building before raising his voice in mimic. “‘Oh, Abel, I missed you so much, it’s been so good to see you, let’s so do this again.’”

Your glare begins to mirror his, hands finding your hips as you scoff, “That’s not how that happened and why do you even care?”

“I fucking care because…” He hesitates, making a noise himself as he looks out into the street, mulling over his response. “Because it was fucking weird.”

You lean back. “What? What was weird? We were talking—”

“Yeah, why?” 

Your brows pull together, eyes falling over his hardened expression. “What do you mean why? Cause we’re friends.”

“Yeah? Is that all?”

The lilt in his voice is venomous and you can feel your muscles recoil as you hesitate. “What does that mean?”

He shrugs as if suggesting you figure it out yourself, and you’re positive you don’t like the implication.

You take a cautious step toward him, pointer finger raising in the air as you murmur, “You better watch your fucking tone, Styles. Whatever it is you’re trying to say? Don’t.”

His head cocks to the side. “What? You don’t want me to say that I think you used to fuck him?”

There it is.

You can feel the swell of livid outrage form deep in your chest as you move back. “That’s what this is about.” Not a question. A statement. A glaringly obvious acceptance. “You’re jealous he and I used to see each other.”

His glare deepens at the carefully worded phrase. “I’m not jealous—”

“Ha.” Your laugh is bitter. You look away, head shaking with disbelief. “No, that’s good. That was a good one. Because if you weren’t jealous, then why the fuck are we out here instead of in there?"

Harry straightens up. Grits his teeth. Doesn’t respond.

So, you respond for him. “Because he’s in there…right?”

More silence. More confirmation of the truth you’d almost be flattered by if he hadn’t made such a scene. 

You have two options, you realize now. 

Continue standing in the middle of the street screaming at each other as the people around you awkwardly watch. 

Or talk him down.

Even though, truthfully, you’re not sure why you have to talk him down when he’s the one acting like a child.

But it’s then that you’re reminded of the times Taylor has been in the room. Or Camille. Or Kendall. The times when you’ve never felt more out of place in this world of his. Standing beside him as he catches up with an old lover.

And despite reminding yourself that it doesn’t matter who was in his past as long as you’re in his future, it doesn’t diminish that devil on your shoulder reminding you how different you are from his very specific type.

No matter your confidence in your relationship, it doesn’t erase the small trickle of doubt that works its way in when you see them together.

And the only thing that truly brings you back to reality is the tender tone of his voice as he reminds you that you’re the only one he sees in a room full of people. 

It’s a kindness that makes a world of difference. 

A kindness you see he needs now.

Slowly, your resolve fades, anger dissipating with each second that passes.

You step closer to him, small hands smoothing up his chest until you can cup his cheeks. He tenses, curious of your intentions as you begin to stroke the soft skin beneath your fingertips. Calming him. 

“Abel and I met a long time ago,” you tell him softly, noticing the flex in his fingers at the admission. Still, you carry on. “We dated—briefly—and it ended on bad terms. We weren’t really a good fit as partners. But, later, we became friends. And he’s the one who told me about the party where you and I met.”

Harry’s brow cocks upward. Yet, he doesn’t speak. He waits.

“I see him maybe once a year if that. And always in a crowded, social setting. He will always be a good memory in my past. But you…you, Har, are my future.”

Now you begin to see the understanding. The relaxation in his muscles. In his expression. In the way his hands find your hips to pull you a bit closer. Have you near.

“And in a room full of Abel’s…I only see you,” you can’t help but add a bit cheekily, and you’re rewarded with his smirk.

“Wow,” he mumbles, head shaking softly. “No, that was bad. Is that how dumb I sound when I say it?”

“Hey.” Your hand slaps at his chest. “It was cute.”

“Yeah. Sure. All right, angel, whatever you say.”

You pull your lip between your teeth, fighting a smug grin. “It was kind of cute the way you got so mad.”

Now, the glare returns, and he rolls his eyes while attempting to let go.

But you hold steady, pulling at his jaw as you laugh, “No, really. Got all grumpy and mad. Everybody wants to steal my girl, yeah? Is that—I mean, was that what was going through your—hey, where are you going?”

But he’s already striding down the sidewalk, leaving you behind as you chuckle adoringly. For a moment, he doesn’t reply. Simply walks down the street as you’re left to wonder.

Then, he turns. Smirking yet again as he calls, “I’m taking you home. So I can show you exactly what happens when someone tries to steal my girl.”

Your face flushes, thighs already attempting to clench together as you swallow apprehensively.

Then…

You follow.

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[myarlert]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘’𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 [𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧]

# .01 — eren yeager, armin arlert, jean kirschtein, connie springer, reiner braun, levi ackerman x fem!reader

# .02 — cw : mentions of kinks : mommy, breeding, overstimulation, orgasm control, praise, cockwarming, mutual masturbation. oral [f. receiving, m. receiving.], mentions of spanking, mention of squirting.

# .03 — ‘one man + one kink’ kinda thing. multiple ones for each, short explanations on them as well, with a bonus of how long they can last. super self indulgent, will do more for other fandoms! [jjk & genshin impact next.] + RBS ARE APPRECIATED!

minors do not interact

𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑 + orgasm control, overstimulation, dirty talk

eren is an absolute madman when it comes to pleasuring you. he has no self control and no filter over his nasty mouth when doing so. his tongue lapping up at your clit, sucking every last drop off you. his hips grinding into the bed at the same pace that his tongue is massaging you at. ‘yeah? you like that? cmere..’ he smirks against your wet skin, sliding a hand up your tummy before pulling away from your core all together. his hand gripping at your tits, drawing out a whine from lack of stimulation. ‘you don’t get to cum yet baby. i’ll let you know when you can. lemme have my fun.’

how long can he last? 1-2 rounds, big cock man gotta have time to relax :(

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐓 + mommy, breeding, praise, overstimulation

definitely has a mommy kink and not only in the submissive kinda way. armin would definitely have you bent over his lap sometimes, fingers knuckle deep in your cunt and other hand laying softly across your ass, aching to give it another spank. ‘’s that feel good mommy? am i doing a good job?’ but you could hear the smirk. but on the other hand, armin would definitely not be able to pull out in time, thus developing quite the breeding/creampie kink. and the time he finally blurts out, ‘wanna have a baby with you! w-wanna fill you up!’

how long can he last? being much into overstim., armin would have a strong sex drive, could probably last 3-4 rounds on a good day.

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍 + praise, breeding,

jean is so into praising the fuck out of you holy shit, nearly everything that comes out of his mouth when you’re sucking him off is all about you. ‘w-woah.. d-did you just lick the balls?-’ would be one of pure shock when he felt your tongue tickle over his balls as his cock worked its way down your throat. but on the other side, jean absolutely is a family man, it’s real. how sweet he would be during the baby making process ugh, soft kisses, sweet praises, ‘gonna look so pretty when you’re all pregnant. gosh.. can imagine you in a cute summer dress now.. fuck-’ he would go feral.

how long can he last? with the breeder balls jean has, probably 2-3 rounds STRONG.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 + cockwarming, praise, *trace amounts of a mommy kink*

cannot control himself when you’re sitting on his lap watching a movie while his cock is balls deep inside you. always mumbles against your neck, ‘just grind back a little.. you’re insides feel so nice baby…’ his hands would grip at your hips, thighs, tits, even pull your hair a little to rest your head on his shoulder so he can kiss your neck easier. and as for the mommy kink, it would barely even exist tbh, maybe if he was feeling extra subby n soft, maybe desperately needy for you to jerk him off faster, it would just slip out. ‘m-mommy please!’ oh fuck and how connie would be so into mutual masturbation !!! sitting across the bed from you while you’re playing with yourself, watching him play with himself ugh so nasty and i fucking love it.

how long can he last? he cums so fast :( probably only one round but maybe two if he’s feeling extra

𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐍 + breeding, overstimulation

there isn’t a doubt in my mind that tells me reiner isn’t needy. he tends to get quite subby at times, super needy to the point where he will be begging for you to get him off again even when he’s been milked dry and at the verge of tears. but to cover his breeding kink, reiner does love to see his seed leaking outta you, using his thick fingers to spread it around your inner thighs and work on pushing it all back in. a thought in my mind currently is subby, overstimulated reiner who is in tears as you jerk him off, whining n groaning as you work your hand over his tip, ‘please! n-no more! hhnnng, shit you feel so good… fuck, don’t stop!’ he wouldn’t even know what he wants anymore.

how long can he last? ROUNDS BRO, FUCKIN ROUNDS

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍 + degradation, praise [he’s spicy], orgasm control, mutual masturbation

here we love talking about subby levi and while i love subby levi, he’s gonna be mean here. absolutely ripping into you with both his cock and his words. ‘oh yeah? oh i know you can give me another. so fucking do it, cum for me again.’ oh and when you would, trembling and gushing all over his cock n lower tummy, he’d get up nice n close, press a hand down on your stomach, feeling how deep he is. ‘another.’ with the nastiest of tones. wouldn’t oppose to watching you get yourself off while he gets himself as a punishment to you, not deserving his cock. but in reality, it was a fucking punishment to him.

how long can he last? mr. tiny but mighy can go probably 3 rounds <3

MYARLERT ©️2022

tagging @rowsn @raegalliard @paradisdementor @soaringmirror

[renomonarch5058]

So I was thinking about the movie 'FunSize' and I got an Idea

If you've never seen the movie allow me to explain, basically there's a scene towards the end where the kid, Albert, runs up to a dude and punches him in the crotch.

And I thought of this

One of the characters unknowingly did something to make MC upset and Luke finds them and hears about it. As he's comforting MC, said character walks in. So Luke runs up to them and punches them in the crotch cause ain't no one gonna hurt his big sibling/parent.

Sorry if this is out of character/not that good, it’s my first time writing something like this so bear with me

Lucifer

Mans is trying so hard to make it seem like that didn't hurt

It did

He's in his demon form it hurt so much

What the hell did he do go deserve this!?

'Oh I upset you? You couldn't have just talked to me?'

He's a little angry but he apologizes to MC

He also secretly respects Luke a little more

Mammon

His screams of pain can be heard around RAD

He's on the floor crying

Who knew Luke could punch so hard?

He's sorry that he hurt you, Luke also apologizes giving Mammon some baked treats

Mammon is very careful with what he's saying around MC now

Leviathan

Like Mammon he's crying

Ruri chan would never do this to him

Why luke why!?

Huh? He upset you earlier

He so sorry but please MC just talk to him next time

Satan

He's trying so hard to make it look like It didn't hurt, but the look in his eyes betray him

He doesn't wanna hurt MC or Luke so he leaves the room, next thing MC or Luke knows is that it sounds like a war out side the room

It’s best to let him calm down then explain

“I deeply apologize MC for upsetting you, please just talk to me next time”

Asmodeus

If you thought Mammon screams were loud, oh boy

The entire Devildom can hear him

He’s sobbing

“Im so sorry MC I didnt mean to hurt you”

Luke gives him some baked treats as an apology

Thank Diavalo he knows a guy just Incase Luke’s punch broke anything

Beelzebub

He doesn’t scream but there’s so much pain in his eyes

He sheds a single tear before curling up on the floor

Food would never hurt him like this

Hes really sorry, he didn’t mean to hurt you

Luke basically makes him an entire buffet as an apology

Belphegor

‘...I knew I shouldn’t have gotten out of bed today’

Just curls up on the floor and sleeps the pain away

When he wakes up, there’s a small box of treats and a note explaining

He apologizes but is also mad at MC for not just explaining

He wants cuddles to make up for it

Diavolo

You’d think that a punch from such a small angel wouldn’t hurt the prince of hell right?

Welp, you’re wrong

His reaction is delayed

He doesn’t scream but does make a high pitched squeek sound when the pain kicks in

Barbatos considers roasting himself (plus MC) for letting this happen

He’s truly sorry for upsetting you but please let’s just talk it out next time

Barbatos

Try’s not to let it show that he’s in pain

He is tho

He’s visibly shaking

Just takes a deep breath and just leaves

MC and Luke talk to him later with some treats and tea and explains

“I’m deeply sorry for upsetting you, MC, let’s just talk from now on ok?”

Solomon

Is this what death feels like? Did it finally catch up to him?

He’s wondering how long he’ll stay conscious for so he can heal himse-

Wakes up in his room with MC and Luke sitting beside him

He’s sorry, he offers to cook for you as an apology

Don’t let him please

Simeon

He sensed something was up when Luke didn’t meet him after school

Was not expecting what felt like the wrath of god to come down on his groin today

Like Solomon,he passes out

When he wakes, MC and Luke greet him with treats and an explanation (Luke was nearly crying when he apologized for punching him)

“I’m deeply sorry for upsetting you MC, but please next time just tell me”

[shiny-jr]

sorry if i’m requesting this wrong, but can i request the yandere alphabet with riddle? congrats on 3k, your work is absolutely amazing! ❤️

Warning: Yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts.

Note: Have not checked this for errors, but gonna post it anyways. 

Letters: A - Z

♥ Affection. How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get? 

     ❧ Riddle Rosehearts, often feared for his unshakable dedication to the rules and his reputation for punishing anyone that makes the foolish mistake of breaking any of those rules. But you, he treats you quite different. Did you know that the Queen of Hearts had a lover? It’s true, although many often forget him. The King of Hearts was a short and meek man who was adored and treated gently by his temperamental wife. It’s sort of like you’ve taken the role of the king, meek or not, and Riddle is your hot-headed queen who treats you oh-so-lovingly. Riddle is a stickler for the rules, but he believes you are above that in a way. If you say something is a rule, then it’s now an official rule in the books. No matter how harsh he is to others, he most definitely has a soft side with you, after all, you are like his king to a queen. 

     ❧ His love language is a mix between acts of service and quality time. Reading in your presence, chatting about trivial things, studying together, completing chores, these things are simple and amount to forgettable moments, but he truly treasures each and every one. They may mean nothing to others, but to him, these moments of peace and order within your company are to be guarded. And he intends to make more moments like these. Riddle is rather proper and so he won’t commonly partake in physical affection as it is a bit alien to him, it flusters him easily if you so much as lock pinkies with him but he does enjoy it. Although what he’s gained the confidence to do is lock arms with you, usually when walking beside you. If you initiate anything beyond handholding, he’s turning red and losing his composure, easily embarrassed and stammering to stop this at once! But it’s fairly obvious that he doesn’t actually want you to stop. 

♥ Blood. How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling? 

     ❧ A surprising (or unsurprising) amount. He takes it upon himself to safe guard you, only trusting you with Cater or Trey and no one else. Riddle lashes out often due to rule breakers but when you’re involved in the equation? Oh boy. Of course he does attempt to keep his cool, you can even help alleviate the situation greatly, but he does tend to overreact when you’re involved. 

     ❧ The smallest slight against you calls for a beheading! How dare they serve you the wrong type of tea on a Tuesday? How could they give you flowers from the garden on Wednesday? It is the night of a full moon, they cannot serve you this specific dish! However, with enough persuasion, you can stop Riddle mid-sentence as he’s screaming at the top of his lungs “Off with their––!!” Merely tug on his clothing and start your explanation, you can save the poor would-be-victim. No matter how he wishes he could punish the culprit, if you stop him and plead with him, he’ll sigh and begrudgingly give in to your plea, allowing the victim to not have to suffer with that heavy heart-shaped collar that appears with his signature magic. As long as you’re there, things will be alright. But if you’re not around, heads will roll for there is no one there to hold him back and convince him to have mercy. 

♥ Cruelty. How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them? 

     ❧ I truly don’t believe Riddle would kidnap you. But what I can see is him manipulating you, convincing you to stay when you initially do not want to. He’s surprisingly good at changing your mind. You’re welcome to stay at Heartslabyul whenever you please. It’s a spacious beautiful dorm, the dorm leader will allow you to sleep in his room which is by far the largest. Additionally, you’ll have the company of that troublesome duo that are your close friends as well as the two seniors he trusts to watch over you when he cannot. 

     ❧ So no, he will not mock you. Everything will continue as normal, except you will have Riddle around you much more often. The other dorm members believe it is both a blessing and a curse since you moved it, but mostly a blessing. When you’re absent he’s much more irritable, but when you’re around (which is way more often) they can get away with a lot more if you excuse them. 

♥ Darling. Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will? 

     ❧ Perhaps constantly having someone there to watch you, the dorm students tasked with attending to you like how the card soldiers dutifully guarded their royalty. Would that be against your will? If there is one thing Riddle refuses is to leave you alone. A royal must always have their attendants, and those attendants must be at their beck and call. Whether you like it or not, this is one thing for some reason he refuses to back down on, so you will never be alone. And you’re fairly certain that whoever watches you does report everything to Riddle, so everything you do he is aware of. 

♥ Exposed. How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling? 

     ❧ For the most part, he only attempts to portray himself in the best light, but sometimes that’s ruined when he loses his temper with another dorm member. However, he does try to keep his anger to a minimum, so that you don’t see that side of him very often. It’s safe to say that he doesn’t bare himself entirely, even if he may think he does, he doesn’t. You may have easier access to a softer side he doesn’t usually show very often, but you don’t have such easy access to the parts he hides because of his terrible temper. He’s not extremely vulnerable either, but there is some vulnerability at the very least. 

♥ Fight. How would they feel if their darling fought back? 

     ❧ Shocked. Perhaps he should’ve felt offended, but because he’s you, he feels zero anger and only distress. Hadn’t he done everything right? He followed all the rules, he listened to your every word, so why was this happening? He did everything he was supposed to! This wasn’t supposed to happen! You were supposed to be happy, so where did he go wrong that caused this unexpected turn of events? Normally he would not tolerate disobedience from anybody, but you aren’t just anybody. He’d feel so bewildered, replaying everything in his mind to pinpoint where exactly he went wrong, and insisting on talking this out in a civil manner. He’s sure there’s a reasonable answer and that you both can come to an agreement, because he’s not sure what he’ll do if you continue to disagree. 

♥ Game. Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape? 

     ❧ Heavens, no! Riddle is fond of the occasional game of croquet or cards, but this is nothing like that! The relationship between you and him is not to be taken lightly. These are serious matters that will be treated as delicately as the porcelain teacup with the sleeping mouse. Any attempt at leaving is frowned upon as well. Of course he can’t force you to stay against your will (he can actually, but he’d much rather not be forced to use the other dorm members as card soldiers keeping you locked up), but he will continue to convince you again and again to stay. You would leave him all alone now, all to himself in his loneliness? What of your friends in the dorm, would you suddenly leave them behind? Not to mention the rest of the dorm that has come to adore you! Surely you won’t run from them? You’re not completely sure if Riddle is oblivious or fully aware of the guilt tripping, especially since the rest of the Heartslabyul depend so much on you to always be there to calm Riddle’s rage. 

♥ Hell. What would be their darling’s worst experience with them? 

     ❧ His anger, obviously. Even if it’s never directed at you, it is still frightening to see his rage flare up, always directed at others who make the smallest of mistakes. If you fail to step in, it’s always unsettling and scary to see his face to red as he screams his head off. Even the smallest of things are seemingly amplified to great importance when it comes to you, which is why he gets worked up over the minor things. These are not just unimportant details to be grazed over, these are details that amount to something greater, they amount to whether you are content with him or not. 

     ❧ Once you left the dorm momentarily, for maybe an hour at most, just to visit the library while Riddle was busy. Cater was ordered to accompany you, much to your disappointment, because you just wanted a few moments alone. Was that too much to ask? Well, it wasn’t too hard to achieve. Cater made the fatal mistake of being glued to his phone screen upon noticing some exciting news on his feed, meaning he was much too entranced to notice that you had already checked out the books you desired. You wouldn’t cause too much trouble for him, you’d just enjoy the walk back the dorm in peace. And peaceful it was to be alone at last... until you reached the dorm. No one had noticed you returned, oh no, they were far too busy, and then you saw why. Riddle had gathered the rest of the dorm, and they were lined up like rigid card soldiers. You peeked from the hallway, terrified to see Riddle yelling at them because someone broke your favorite teacup and no one would fess up. What made it worse was that you could see the horror on everyone else’s face, too afraid to speak up and also afraid they would be punished severely. In your terror this made you realize, if Riddle was going so far for just a teacup and other minor matters, how would he react when more serious issues involving you arose? 

♥ Ideals. What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling? 

     ❧ In truth, he has it all planned out, not that you know of it or that he’s ever spoken about it. Although he is willing to adjust his plans to better fit your desires. However, if he had this way completely... He still aims to become one of the most successful and knowledgeable magic doctors in the Queendom of Roses. Additionally, he would like his Mother’s approval when it comes to being in a relationship with you, but he doesn’t need it. 

     ❧ Wouldn’t it be fantastic if you were also in the field of medicine? Even if you cannot use magic, perhaps you could be his assistant or nurse or even just a regular magicless doctor. Or you can work at the front desk, or in the gift shop of the hospital he would be employed at. Really, you can be just about anything, even staying at home is fine too. Although he does wish you would spend your time doing something fulfilling and meaningful, that’s of course not too dangerous and not too far from him.

♥ Jealousy. Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope? 

     ❧ Oh, terribly so, but just you beside him is enough to calm him. He does lash out, but again, it’s limited with your help and your presence. Also, the rest of the dorm has learned to be cautious when being kind to you, so that Riddle doesn’t accidentally mistakingly believe they are flirting with you. However, most of the clever ones have learned that when Riddle is mid-yell and about to collar them, they willingly go along with whatever nonsense he’s saying while addressing him as “dorm leader, Riddle” with a polite smile and courteous nod. Usually that’s enough to cool him down and make him reconsider using his unique magic.

♥ Kisses. How do they act around or with their darling? 

     ❧ We’ve already gone over how he acts around others, more easy to anger but still tries (and fails) to remain calm. Around you, when he’s not irate at others, he’s quite polite, charming, and easily embarrassed. It would be cute, only if you didn’t know about his horrible temper. He’s actually very sweet and considerate, always putting your needs and wants first before his own. Calmly engaging in conversation, partaking in the most peaceful activities, adoring you for every moment he spends at your side. Prepare to be treated like royalty. As much as he tries, he just can’t ever say no to you. You are truly the king to his queen.

♥ Love letters. How would they go about courting or approaching their darling? 

     ❧ Ah, romance... a field in which Riddle has zero experience in. Romantic matters had never really mattered to him before, he always prioritized his studies above all. Yet, that's one of his skills: his studies. He can learn quickly, and so he does research by reading old and new romantic manners, even hesitantly requesting Trey and Cater for advice. His approach seems so genuine and pure as he prefers to take a more traditional approach, meaning he will formally be asking to date you. Yet who could ever guess that he was hiding such jealousy and boiling fury inside? But to you, accepting his invitations to spend more time at the dorm was a delight, this was before his obsessive behavior came to light. When you mention something foreign to him, he makes sure to always research it in detail so that he may discuss it further with you next time. The roses of his dorm are always in bloom and are plentiful, plus he knows that giving flowers is generally seen as a romantic gesture, so you will be receiving a bouquet of flowers on more than one occasion. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into when you one day accept the red roses and his long confession.

♥ Mask. Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else? 

     ❧ Yes and no? His mask cracks quite easily, so it's not really a secret as to the way he acts when you're around or not. As we've already established, your absence just makes his temper that much worse. If you do happen to see him at this new height of anger that would startle even the temperamental Queen of Hearts herself, you likely witnessed it by accident. Riddle does try to remain civil as he acts so sickeningly sweet to you, but it's so vexing when all these men around you are brainless and can't do a single thing right when it comes to serving you!

♥ Naughty. How would they punish their darling?

     ❧ Oh, he doesn't really punish you, and in the rare case he does it's nothing physical. Say for example, you do want to leave and tirelessly insist on it while ignoring all of Riddle's attempts and convincing to make you stay. Maybe one day you do try to escape, then he will be forced to keeping you confined to the dorm. If you try a second time, you are no longer allowed into the garden. He truly doesn't want to punish you, you're forcing his hand at this point.

♥ Oppression. How many rights would they take away from their darling? 

     ❧ Very little, actually. You seem to be practically exempt from the rules, so you will actually have more freedom than others. However, your freedom will be restricted if and when you try to leave. That is the biggest thing that can be taken away.

♥ Patience. How patient are they with their darling? 

     ❧ Extremely. As we’ve seen, he somehow magically has the patience of a saint with you, but it’s the complete opposite with others. With anyone who is not you, they are always teetering on the line between safety and angering him. The only time his patience may run this is with anything akin to escape attempts, but he will go no further than restrict you to the dorm. Still, no one believed Riddle had it in him, to be so tolerant and tranquil when he should’ve been angry. And should you have told his dorm members about how one day Riddle will allow someone to break any and all rules and do as they please? They’d all think you were insane. What’s insane is how Rosehearts has placed you on this pedestal above even the very rules he’s honored since childhood. 

♥ Quit. If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

     ❧ Dying is very very unlikely, and it’s already been mentioned about the repercussions from attempting to leave or “escape.” Riddle merely wants everything to be perfect, he’s attempting his very best to please you, so why would you run after all he’s done...? 

♥ Regret. Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go? 

     ❧ No, because he did not abduct you. He had invited you to stay, and you had accepted his invitation. It’s just that your stay has been majorly prolonged, but that’s no problem, at least in his eyes. Now he cannot imagine a future without you in it. All ways are his ways, so he will have his way, that being him beside you. 

♥ Stigma. What brought about this side of them? 

     ❧ This answer probably depends on the au. 

♥ Tears. How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

     ❧ Immediately he sees red. Who had the audacity to make you upset?! He shall have their head!! In the heat of the moment, he’s torn between wanting to immediately go after the one who caused your sorrow and staying to wipe your tears with a handkerchief. In the moment he feels somewhat hopeless, as he knows he’s not the best in these situations, but he sincerely tries. Ultimately, he stays, deciding to send others to capture the offender and dedicate this time to attempting to comforting you. He’s listening carefully to your explanation, immediately someone bring over what you want should you ask for something. While Riddle would like to rain hell on the offender, ultimately he will leave their fate up to you. After all, they had committed the crime of upsetting you. You will get to decide whether Riddle shall have his way or you may choose mercy, but the crimson leader dearly wishes you shall let him cast judgement upon them. 

♥ Unique. Would they do anything different from the classic yandere? 

     ❧ One strange thing about Riddle is that he lets you choose the fate of those who he believed wronged you or offended you. Most yanderes may set the punishment in stone and take care of it immediately without your knowledge or permission, but not Riddle, at least most of the time. And whatever you choose, he’ll abide by your word, whether he likes it or not. If you spare them, he’ll be a bit discontent that you allowed them to go so easily, but he won’t go against your command. You’re such a lenient and forgiving person... If you decide to punish them, he’ll gladly take over from there. You’re responsible and make sure that actions have consequences...!

♥ Vice. What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape? 

     ❧ As mentioned before, Riddle is very lenient with you. He listens to you, as if you’re above the rules. This can easily be used to your advantage. Not to escape, he’s no fool so he’ll instantly realize you’re attempting to leave. However, you can utilize his leniency to do as you please. You can get away with what others can only dream of. 

♥ Wit’s end. Would they ever hurt their darling? 

     ❧ No, he wouldn’t dare! Why, harming you should be against the rules as well! Anyone who would dare harm a single hair on your head will be met with immediate and harsh punishment from his own hands! 

♥ Xoanon. How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over? 

     ❧ Mentioned previously, but you’re practically above the rules. The very rules he upholds and has memorized and honored since childhood. No one could shake him in his determination to follow these rules, only recently being able to compromise when the minor rules are broken. So imagine how much you must mean to him if he places you on a pedestal above the Queen’s rules. All that time he spent studying, researching, memorizing the topics you loved just to grow closer and deepen your relationship. Not just anyone would pour such dedication and effort to take time and win you over. 

♥ Yearn. How long do they pine after their darling before they snap? 

     ❧ Oh, he won’t snap. Sure, the longer the process drags out, he may become more snappy at those surrounding him, but it honestly isn’t as terrible as compared to when you actually accept him. He will be patient, and he won’t become frustrated at you but rather at the process itself. 

♥ Zenith. Would they ever break their darling? 

     ❧ Perhaps on accident, or not. You may not be able to take seeing him snap or yell at your friends in the dorm for very long. Or you may come to eventually fear him as well, just as everyone else is too afraid to ever speak out against him. But maybe you can stand it, you might just be alright. As alright as you can be as Riddle insists on staying at your side and attempting to have everything as you want it.

[fernsnailz]

please i have to know the turbo tails lore

bitcoin i can assure you there’s no fucking way you’re ready for what’s about to unfold in this lore post

i’m willing to talk about the turbo tails lore because it gives me the chance to explain my favorite panel from ALL of archie sonic:

below is over 2,000 words worth of turbo tails lore. don't say i didn't warn you lol

TL;DR: a convoluted prophecy, a cryptic grandpa, and a single lost backpack make turbo tails one of the strangest things to come out of archie sonic

THE TURBO TAILS LORE.

note: any time i say “it’s actually really simple!” in this explanation please know i’m saying it with the thickest tone of sarcasm and bitterness known to man

we gotta start wayyyy back in early archie sonic - specifically, at the tails miniseries. these issues follow tails as he travels alone to a place called “downunda” (aka the archie sonic equivalent of australia), where he helps the freedom fighters there defeat some badniks terrorizing their home.

tails’ journey is sparked by his own desire to become a hero and the frustration he feels when the rest of the freedom fighters treat him like a little kid. in the first part of the miniseries, we see a comic that tails makes about him becoming a superhero called “captain super foX-MAN” (the writers did a lot of comic references in early archie sonic).

when tails gets to downunda, however, he becomes injured and finds himself in the bottom of a crater. here, he meets an oldass echidna named athair. this dude is one of knuckles’ (many) relatives, and hopefully the only one i ever have to talk about

athair’s main character trait is that he’s cryptic as hell. nothing he says makes any fucking sense, but is treated as all-important because… he says it is. he’s gonna be relatively important through all of this, so we gotta keep peepaw around.

athair takes tails further into the comet and introduces him to some guys called the ancient walkers. you might think, “hey, are those just dinosaurs wearing masks?” and. yeah that’s exactly what they are

the ancient walkers are pagan dinosaurs that discovered the chaos emeralds and developed some sort of immortality and futuristic vision because of them. or. something like that

so what the hell does this have to do with tails? well, the ancient walkers speak of a prophecy: a chosen one who will realign the chaos emeralds for a “higher purpose,” and cause something called the great harmony.

we won’t be getting to THAT for a WHILE tho

after his adventure in downunda, the next important thing to cover is sonic, tails, and knuckles’ battle against a dude called mammoth mogul.

for simplicity’s sake, the main things you need to know about mogul is that:

he’s immortal and really old

he wants to take over the universe

he has a chaos emerald embedded in his chest

he’s ALSO going to be very important

i don't like him he’s really boring

at this point, mammoth mogul has stolen a bunch of power from another villain called enerjak (LONG story), and has used it to transform into his own sort of “super” form called master mogul.

mogul really wants to fight the sonic gang so he can use the three of them to take over the world, and this is what his vision of that looks like LMAO

sonic and knuckles go into their super and hyper forms respectively, but even the two of them can’t take down mogul. however, a mysterious caped hero shows up to help - TURBO TAILS.

turbo tails's design is in reference to the superhero tails was drawing at the beginning of his miniseries, captain fox-man. this is turbo tails' first official appearance, and he’s able to fight off mogul where BOTH super sonic and hyper knuckles couldn’t. kid’s strong.

once they defeat mogul, they trap his ass in the master emerald. however, note this all takes place before the comic’s adaptation of sonic adventure 1. and if you know SA1, you know that stuff inside the master emerald gets OUT of it eventually. and oh boy you’ll never guess who gets out of the emerald when eggman eventually destroys it

however, we’re not worrying about that right now. in the next bit we’re covering, tails is at SCHOOL! however, he’s lost his backpack and needs to find it. oh no!!!

but before he can find it -

athair teleports into the school, says tails is needed for something (but doesn’t say what), then teleports tails away.

BRO DIDN’T EVEN FIND HIS BACKPACK HE HAS GEOMETRY CLASS IN FIVE MINUTES

this specific teleportation will be really important later.

athair takes tails to angel island where he wants tails to… fight knuckles. i guess. currently, knuckles is stuck in a state called “chaos knuckles,” where he’s green, confused all the time, and really strong. homeboy’s going through it

before tails can really do a lot, he gets knocked out by some falling rubble, and ghost athair does nothing to help. have i mentioned that athair kinda sucks?

athair then takes tails to our favorite guy - tails’ uncle, merlin prower! merlin is a wizard and that’s all you need to know right now. athair wants merlin to wake up tails so he can go and fight knuckles, but merlin is FUCKING PISSED!! and reasonably so.

imagine. some oldass dude teleports into your house, hands your unconscious nephew to you, and then goes “hey can you fix him? i need him to fight the hulk.” like?? HE’S BUT A MERE LAD!

merlin is kinda right - tails has been dragged into echidna family drama for no reason other than athair seems to be out of ideas. and since tails' parents are gone, merlin's nephew is the only family he seems to have left.

unfortunately, merlin can’t find a way to argue with athair’s “we gotta do it for reasons i can’t explain” argument, and brings back our boy turbo tails.

however, turbo tails gets his ass kicked.

(side note: from here on out, turbo tails' cape is red. i don't know why that's just how it is)

when merlin goes back to his unconscious nephew (again), athair searches turbo tails’ mind to figure out why he got his ass kicked so bad. and the explanation is actually really simple!

this turbo tails is actually a duplicate of tails and the original tails is just. somewhere we don’t know.

so. yeah what the fuck

neither of them know how tails was duplicated or where this one came from. athair’s solution to this is just “let’s not tell anybody.” great job peepaw you really solved that one

after this, tails 2 just kinda keeps living his life without knowing he’s a duplicate of the original. however, he starts having nightmares about a weird, mysterious cave. when he and sonic eventually find this cave, they find the original turbo tails, trapped in a stasis.

and then, guess who shows up in the cave!! oh boy it’s everyone’s favorite character mammoth fucking mogul!!!!!

mogul explains the tails duplicate thing, and it’s actually really simple!

you know that one time athair teleported into tails’ school and kidnapped him while he was trying to find his backpack? yeah, so mogul basically kidnapped tails while he was being teleported, replaced him with a duplicate he created that was identical to the real tails, then placed the real turbo tails into stasis so he could harvest his power, thus regaining his original power before he was trapped in the master emerald.

do you see why i was dreading talking about turbo tails?

sonic fights mogul off, but tails 2 is kinda going through it. i don’t know how, but mogul made a duplicate that was near PERFECT, and tails 2 still has all of the original tails’ memories, emotions, and bonds. so when tails 2 disappears… it’s strangely tragic?

and then they just kinda move on lol

the original tails is released and returns to living his life, but unfortunately his life is kinda not so great at the moment. he just learned that his parents are alive on an alien planet (read THIS lore dump for more context), he’s part of this weird confusing prophecy he doesn’t understand, and he’s frustrated that he isn’t allowed to know about this great prophecy that directly affects HIS life.

and when tails confronts peepaw athair about this, athair does this.

good riddance

in the next issue, sonic and tails are visited by an alternate universe version of sonic called zonic, who serves as a sorta time cop that watches over the multiverse to make sure no one is messing with the space time continuum.

that’s obviously a bit to unpack, so here’s the main stuff you need to know:

the multiverse exists and is very important in archie sonic

all of the alternate universes and dimensions are called “zones”

the sonic and tails of the main story are called the “prime” versions, basically meaning they’re the true canon of the entire multiverse.

i don’t want to explain the existence of zonic rn. just know that he stands on things sideways

zonic is freaking out a little bit because someone’s in the process of destroying the entire multiverse, but he can’t figure out who. however, he heard about this weird “chosen one” prophecy thing, and he thinks that tails might be able to help.

while with zonic, tails and prime sonic realize that the person destroying the universe is our favorite guy mammoth fucking mogul, who collected enough power from the turbo tails he had in stasis and chaos knuckles (who he fought at a different time) to become all powerful enough to destroy the universe. plus, weird spacetime shenanigans are happening because knuckles died and was then resurrected (don’t ask), which kinda threw off the balance of the multiverse.

the prime bros and zonic are starting to run out of time, but zonic has a plan (sorta). see, he hoped that tails could help somehow, but he didn’t know WHICH tails across the multiverse would be the chosen one.

so he recruited ALL of them.

tails, knowing that he’s the chosen one and all that jazz, tries to fight the universe destroying god form mammoth mogul alone. this obviously does not work, so the rest of the tails and sonic come to his aid.

however, when sonic is injured in the fight, tails is convinced that he died. in his anger, he’s able to fulfill his destiny and converge with every single version of himself across the multiverse, becoming…

TITAN TAILS.

"YOU WILL NOT" is one of my favorite reaction images

titan tails might be one of the most powerful characters in all of sonic canon, as he’s able to defeat a universe-destroying mammoth mogul in a matter of seconds.

me when my energies are pulled away lol

with mammoth mogul defeated (again), titan tails uses his power to return the world back to the status quo and imprison mogul in yet another emerald.

so that’s the end of the prophecy, right? that’s all the chosen one jazz, and titan tails was a result of the great harmony?

well, no.

if you look back at that prophecy from the original tails miniseries, it never mentions anything about the multiverse. instead, it only mentions the chaos emeralds realigning for a higher purpose, brought about by the chosen one. so what’s all that about?

this brings us back to tommy turtle.

after the events of titan tails, an eggman AI named A.D.A.M. learns of the chosen one prophecy and the great harmony of chaos emeralds. A.D.A.M. has been working behind the scenes of a LOT of various plots as a figure named Anonymous, where he was working on a greater master plan to become an all powerful being. and man, that chosen one prophecy that speaks of realigning EVERY chaos emerald in the universe? that sounds promising.

i talked about A.D.A.M.’s plan a little more in my tommy turtle lore dump, but the basics of it is that he kidnaps both shadow and tails in order to use their super forms to cause the great harmony mentioned in the prophecy. through using super shadow’s chaos control, he can open up doorways through spacetime to summon them all. however, the emeralds won’t arrive unless he has the chosen one - turbo tails.

using both of them, A.D.A.M. summons every emerald in the universe, of which there are a LOT. in archie sonic, the chaos emerald lore is that each planet has a bunch of chaos emeralds, but only of one color. for example, the emeralds on mobius (sonic’s world) are all green, while the rest of the colors all originate from different alien planets.

so, with every emerald summoned, thus begins the great harmony and the end of the prophecy from the classic tails miniseries.

once super shadow and turbo tails are freed, they work together to finally complete the prophecy: realigning all of the chaos emeralds by placing them in the zone of silence, which is kinda like the distortion world of sonic lore. basically, they’re putting them in storage and out of reach because the writers didn't want to deal with a bajillion chaos emeralds anymore.

after the great harmony, the archie sonic chaos emeralds return to a form that are similar to that of the games - there are only seven, one of each color. thus ends the prophecy, the chosen one’s purpose, and the turbo tails lore.

and that's it! turbo tails never shows up in archie sonic again, and will likely never appear in any piece of sonic canon ever again. and really, there’s only one question i have after revisiting all of this again.

where the FUCK is tails’ backpack??????

[book-place]

Hey Brother

Warnings: crisis on infinite earths spoilers, cursing (come on it’s Jason, what do you expect?), hints of character death, end of the freaking world, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Batfamily x sister reader

*not my gif*

Summary: Family strengths are always proven in the worst situations

A/N: The batfamily’s perspective on Crisis on Infinite Earths (Arrowverse) so technically it doesn’t have to be read as a batfam fic but that’s what I’m gonna put it under; yes, I know this is shit- it’s cause I wrote it at 12:00 am and wouldn’t let myself go to bed until I published; and it’s kinda repetitive and short- sorry

Inspired by: Hey Brother by Avicii

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Hey brother, there’s an endless road to rediscover

“Dad!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, running through the streets full of chaos, searching with wide and wild eyes for your father.

Everybody was running around in sheer horror and panic, not sure of what was going on.

“Y/n!” He screamed back as soon as his eyes landed on you from across the road.

Neither of you cared that you were revealing each other’s identities by now as you ripped off your masks and ran to each other as fast as you could.

You hurdled yourself into his arms and he caught you with ease, “What’s happening?” You sobbed into his chest, wincing as if you could physically feel the pain of every person that let out a scream of terror from all around you.

He glanced up at the sky, “I don’t know.” He whispered in such a broken voice that it made your heart shatter into thousands of more pieces.

Only moments ago the sky hadn’t had a cloud in the bright blue endlessness, and within twenty seconds the entire thing had turned red without any explanation.

It had taken not even five seconds for the temperature to rise at a rate that was too fast to be normal, and by then it had to be well over a hundred degrees Fahrenheit when moments ago it had been only in the sixties.

Nobody had known what to do so everyone was thrown into a state of panic.

Hey sister, know the waters sweet but blood is thicker

“Y/n! Bruce!” Tim’s voice reached your ears over all the other sounds and you and your father both whipped in the same direction to where your third oldest brother was running through the crowds to try and get to the two of you.

His bo staff had disappeared from his grip, mask most likely long ago discarded, eyes wide, highlighting the dark bags under them more than normal.

As he came to a skidding halt in front of the two of you, you took note of the way he doubled over and began gasping for breath, indicating that he had run very far to find somebody- anybody- in the family to figure out what was going on.

Bruce placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, looking at him in worry, “Tim? Are you okay?”

He nodded, panting slightly still and he looked around in a weird confusion, “Nobody even cares about our identities.”

Looking around, you realized he was right, everybody was in too much of a frenzy to even care, let alone notice that their local masked vigilantes were standing before them, now unmasked.

Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you, there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do

“What the fucking hell is going on?” Jason���s voice rang out from behind the three of you, causing you guys to jump slightly and turn around the face the black haired man.

“Jay.” You sighed in relief, rushing over and giving your older brother a hug, a small weight being lifted off your shoulders when you see him alive and well.

As he wrapped his arms around you tightly, he looked over your head at his adopted father and younger brother, silently asking them the same question again.

“We don’t know.” Bruce whispered, clearly not having meant for his own voice to come out that softly.

He nodded in understanding, holding you to his chest tighter as he stealthily glanced up at the sky, hoping with every bone in his body that his family didn’t see the nerves he was so desperately trying to hide.

Hey brother, do you still believe in one another?

Then, you quickly pulled away from Jason and your face became paler than it already was, breathing picking up, “Where’s Dick and Damain?” Your voice came out rushed.

You watched helplessly as the rest of your family paled as well, coming to the realization that the eldest and youngest of the siblings were not in fact with them.

“We need to find them.” Though it was supposed to be a statement, your voice came out in a begging way as your eyes shot between the three others faces.

Bruce didn’t even hesitate to nod in agreement, closely followed by the other two.

With that, the group of you turned on your heels and began weaving through the crowd, running against them, as you made your way back to the manor, the last location that you knew them to be at.

Hey sister, do you still believe in love, I wonder

By the time your home came into view, the streets were practically deserted as everybody fled Gotham, hoping beyond hope that whatever was going on in that city wouldn’t be going on in others.

That place that you had called home for so long had never looked menacing to you, but now, looking at it with the blood red sky in the background, you couldn’t help but swallow slightly in fear.

Even from a distance, you could see the front doors open and two figures step out, clearly having been waiting for your arrival, and you broke away from the rest of your family, sprinting towards Damian and Dick.

As soon as you were close enough, you threw your arms around your oldest and youngest brother, letting out a small sob, doing everything in your power to block out the terrible thoughts you had been having on the way here. Ones where the two of them were long gone.

They both hugged you back, sharing a glance over your shoulder before looking over the rest of your family.

“Father.” Damian stepped forward after gently releasing you, “What is the meaning of this?” His normal demanding tone not faltering, even in a time like this, as he gestured to the sky above them.

“I wish we knew, Dami.” He answered sadly, this time exchanging a look with his eldest son, unsure of what else there was to say.

“Come on,” Nightwing spoke up softly, “We already turned the air condition on, let’s just go inside for now and figure out what to do.”

Oh if the sky comes falling down

With a broken sigh, Bruce hung up the phone and looked to his left, ignoring the tears that began to pool up in his eyes.

Clark had just called to inform the man that the same thing was happening to him in Metropolis and everyone else in the Justice League in their respective cities and towns, and apparently there was nothing that could be done about it. It was destroying the earth at an impossible rate in an impossible way.

He watched through glassy eyes as you snuggled closer to Jason’s side on the couch despite the heat, leaning your head on his shoulder as you talked to Damian who sat on the ground beside you. Dick and Tim were in chairs opposite to you three, listening and joining in on the conversation about who knows what.

How was he supposed to tell his own children that the world was ending, and this time he could do absolutely nothing to stop it. To protect them.

As he took a shaky step into the room, whatever talking had been happening came to a halt and suddenly five pairs of eyes were on the man, “What did Uncle Clark say?” You spoke up, already judging the answer by the look on his face.

Another uneven breath escaped the Wayne man’s mouth as he looked down at the ground, “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

When he glanced up, the heartbroken and terrified looks on all five of his children's faces shook him to the core and he was certain that it would forever be engraved as a haunted memory in his mind.

But forever wouldn’t even be a thing for him. Not with what was to come within the next hour according to Superman.

For you, there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do

Quickly standing up, you rushed over to your adopted father and brought him into a comforting hug, ignoring your own tearfilled eyes and tried and take a moment to be there for Bruce.

Your siblings closely followed, making it the first family group hug that you all had in years, and in that moment you knew that it would be your last and you couldn’t help but wonder why you didn’t all do it more often.

So that’s where you all stood, in the middle of the Wayne- Grayson- Todd- Drake- L/N- manor living room. A room that held so many memories. Good and bad.

When you took your first steps. When Dick broke his arm trying to do a backflip off a bookshelf. When Tim was sleep deprived and thought that a car was parked in it. When Jason and Damian decided to finally get along for once and decorate the room for your birthday, which may or may not have ended in them getting glitter everywhere.

Every room, hall, bathroom, and closet in there held a memory of some kind that came from having a family like this one.

One that fought all the time and never saw eye to eye, but would always be there for each other at the end of the day. No matter what.

Batfamily Taglist: @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker

[mdemontespan1667]

STUPID GIRL

BLIND SPOT (3)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

THE LONG WALK (1)

JANE DOE (2)

18+ ONLY

SOFT DARK WALTER MARSHALL X READER

SUMMARY: YOU'RE JUST DOING YOUR JOB. TOO BAD SOMEONE DOESN'T AGREE.

(I moved the dates of this to the current year instead of 2018 so hopefully my dates match. I used what character information I could find for Walter and either filled it in with the actor's info or just winged it since no explanation was ever given for his accent. I did my best to research the neighborhoods and streets mentioned. If I made a mistake I apologize.)

SERIES WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON/GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/TORTURE/DEATH/DESCRIPTIONS OF DEAD BODIES/VAGINAL SEX/ORAL SEX/ANAL SEX/REFERENCES TO SEXUAL ASSAULT/REFERENCES TO MURDER/STALKING/CHOKING/SLAPPING

“Detective Marshall, Is this the 8th victim of the Hennepin Hatchet?” 

“No comment.”

The man bristled at the name, barely concealed disdain in his expression.

You didn’t like the name any better.

Giving murderers cutesy names took the focus off the victims.

But the Press, yourself included, had to call this psycho something.

“Get out of my fucking crime scene”

“I’m not in your fucking crime scene.”

You gestured to the yellow police tape, flapping in the bitter wind, which you were currently behind, barely. 

Detective Marshall grunted, clearly annoyed.

“I’m just trying to do my job. The public has a right to know if a serial killer is operating in Minneapolis.”

Crossing his arms, he fixed you with a bored stare. 

“What makes you think this is serial? Prostitutes get killed all the time. Hazards of the profession.”

“You’re joking right?”

You rolled your eyes.

“All the victims were last seen in the Hennepin area, all petite blondes, all sexually assaulted, stabbed and mutilated. There’s no way in hell this isn’t the same guy.”

“No comment.”

The dark haired Detective walked away, effectively dismissing you.

“Can you confirm Madison Harper was missing her left breast?”

Turning back he lumbered toward you.

Oh shit.

Detective Marshall was a veritable bear of a man, with a rumored temper to match.

And you?

You’d just poked him, big time. 

“Where did you get that information?”

“No comment,” you sassed.

 Apparently you had no sense of self-preservation.

“If you don’t get the fuck out of here,” he growled, “I’m gonna have your ass arrested for interfering with a police investigation.”

“C’mon. Give me something, anything.”

You tried your best to bat your eyes.

“Officer Barton,” he shouted to a uniform, “I need you to..”

“Ok, Ok,” you threw up your hands, “I’m going.”

You stomped to your ancient, beige Subaru. 

“Fucking prick.”

Driving away, you shivered, convinced the killer was just getting started.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I sincerely hope you're hitting submit as we speak.”

“I’m working on it.”

You glowered at your laptop, its blank Google Docs page taunting you.

“Uh, you know deadline’s in 3 hours?”

‘Yeah Brent, I know. I’m..I’m working on it.”

You hit the red dot, ending the call.

Brent was a great colleague, an even better friend.

SInce moving to Minneapolis a year and a half ago he was the only person you had gotten close to.

 Even so, the last thing you needed right now was more pressure.

FUCK FUCK FUCK 

Milton Turnbaldt, the editor of the Digital Division at the StarTribune, had finally moved you from Special Interest to the Crime Beat.

It was the next step in “THE PLAN” you’d mapped out since graduation. 

Imagining yourself a modern day Helen Thomas, visions of Pulitzers had danced in your mind. 

Reality had been a bit different.

Two years writing bar reviews for Bar Fly and one disastrous year at Chicago Suburban Family had been followed by a three year stint at the Chicago Sun Times, where the closest you got to reporting anything was letting Maintenance know a lightbulb was out in the Ladies room.

Getting hired at the  StarTribune had seemed like a dream come true, even if you’d had to move to Minnesota. 

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK 

It was obvious this woman was the 8th victim. 

Problem was every other reporter knew it, even if the cops refused to acknowledge the fact.

Your one advantage was your intuition. 

The women had to have been comfortable with the killer, therefore, he was most likely good looking, charming and came off as harmless. Every victim had voluntarily left their comfort zone, something sex workers usually refused to do. 

The pre- and post-mortem mutilation meant the killer felt confident enough in his surroundings to spend hours with the women, unconcerned about noise or the mess. His secondary location had to be isolated enough for his purpose but close enough to Hennepin Ave that the victims had been willing to take a chance.

Unofficial autopsy reports on each victim listed copious amounts of lube found in the vaginal and anal cavities. It wasn’t unusual for sex workers to use lube but this seemed excessive. The ME had attributed the internal micro-tears and bruising to the sexual assault. That, coupled with the lube, had you leaning in a different direction: The killer was having sex with the dying women. 

Too bad you couldn’t prove any of it.

Neither could you publish the information about the missing body part or lube without totally outing your source at the morgue, although that ship had kinda sailed when you showed your hand to the detective.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK 

Praying for Divine intervention, you started typing.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you think Claude?”

The overweight Tabby cat yawned.

“Thanks for the support. I’ll remember that next time you want a treat.”

Looking at your reflection in the full length bathroom mirror, you critically assessed your outfit: short, pleated black polyester tennis skirt, metallic silver cowl neck top, dingy, thigh high, white spiked boots, and a cropped, pink fake fur bomber jacket.

Heavy eye makeup, red lips and purposely mussed hair completed the disguise.

This classy ensemble, courtesy of the local thrift shop, had cost you a grand total of $53.98, an amount you really couldn’t afford.

But since the police, one surly detective in particular, weren’t talking you were just gonna have to find someone who would. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your feet were numb. 

Whether it was from the insanely high heels or the -2 degrees (F) windchill you didn’t know.

Or care.

After walking the Hennepin Ave circuit for 3 hours you had a whole lot of nothing. 

The sex workers definitely knew something.

Clustered in groups of 3 or 4, they murmured to themselves, cell phone cameras flashing, warning potential customers they were being watched, however, no one was willing to talk to a stranger. 

A midnight blue, extended cab pickup pulled up, idling at the curb. 

“Come here.”

“Uh, sorry, I’m..uh.. off the clock.”

He wasn’t the first guy who’d tried to engage you.

Maybe your refusal to leave with a client had given you away.

“Come here or I’ll bring you here.”

Tentatively you stepped closer.

“I said I’m not…Are you fucking kidding me Marshall?”

He sat hunched over the steering wheel, eyes blazing at you.

Beyond annoyed, you hissed, “Go away.”

“Get in the truck.”

“No.” 

“Get in the goddamn truck now.”

Mimicking his earlier behavior, you crossed your arms.

“You can’t tell me what to….”

The cab of the truck flooded with light as he opened the driver side door.

“Fine!”

In a huff, you climbed in, fastening your seatbelt before throwing him a scowl.

He ignored you, smoothly merging with the heavy Friday night traffic.

“Where’d you park that piece of shit car?”

You refused to answer, making a show of sulking.

“Answer me or..”

“Or what?” you interrupted, “You had no right harassing me, asshole.”

“Excuse me?” 

His harsh tone was  a clear indicator you’d pissed him off.

“Your car?”

“It’s at my apartment. I took an Uber.”

The Detective sighed.

“Exactly what the hell were you trying to accomplish out there?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“You’re no help so I…”

“You what? You decided to play fucking dress up? Do you have any idea how dangerous the streets are? Some freak is killing prostitutes and your stupid ass is running around pretending to be one.”

“Are you finished?”

He clenched his jaw, cheek ticking.

“Contrary to your belief I’m not stupid. I can take care of myself.”

You reached in your bag producing a sleek, highly illegal taser.

“Plus I have this. And yes, I know how to use it.”

Taking a sharp left turn he headed South.

“Um, where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“How do you….”

“Born and raised in the Gold Coast area of Chicago. Only child. Undergrad at University of Chicago, Masters in Communication from Loyola, which your ridiculously rich mother paid for. You worked at two small time local papers then the Chicago Sun where you, what? Got coffee for three years? You took a job at the StarTribune 18 months ago writing online fluff. You live in the East Phillips neighborhood,  don’t drink, smoke or do drugs and generally have no social life. I like to know who I’m dealing with.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, more than a little angry he’d checked you out.

“Pretty good,” you retorted, “My turn.”

“Born in the Channel Islands. Strict Catholic upbringing, four siblings, three boys, one girl. Attended St Michael’s Prep before transferring to Stowe School your Sophomore year, sorry, you call it Year 11. Joined the London Metropolitan Police Force in 2008, the same year you married Angie Stultz. She was interning for Warrener Stewart right?”

You rambled on, not waiting for an answer.

“Your daughter Faye was born the next year. Four years later you were promoted to the Criminal Investigations Department. You started out in Street Crime, then Organized Crime, until landing in Major Crimes in 2015. January of 2017 you and the little family moved to Minneapolis, where your wife was from but you didn’t start with the police department here for another 5 months so I’m assuming you were a house husband until your emigration papers cleared. Apparently you weren’t a very good husband, house or otherwise, cause your wife filed for divorce under “Irreconcilable DIfferences” a little over a year ago. You live alone, don’t smoke or do drugs and are generally recognized as a bully. I like to know who I’m dealing with.”

You flashed a Chesire grin.

Uh, oh.

If looks could kill, you’d be dead, buried 6 feet down, “Here lies a stupid idiot who wouldn’t keep her mouth shut” carved in the marker. 

“Um, this is me.”

You pointed to a two story brick building, an empty storefront on the first floor, your studio apartment on the second.

“Why do you live in this shithole? With mommy’s money you could be living in the Carlyle or Legacy.”

“I wanted to prove I can make it on my own. And this neighborhood? It’s not as bad as people think. The Pizzeria over there? The old, Italian couple that own it let anyone who needs to use the free wifi. On the weekends they stay open late and offer a free slice and drink so the kids have a safe place to go.”

You became animated, warming to the topic.

“Mrs Freemantle, in the brownstone next door, invites me over three or four times a month. Her oxtail soup and mac and cheese are freaking amazing. She doesn't get around too well so I run errands for her once or twice a week.”

You peered out the windshield.

“Those two guys on the steps, the ones you gave the stink eye to? Andre and Tony? They fixed my car for a six pack and a pizza the last time it crapped out.”

“Probably with stolen parts,” he mumbled.

“I bought the parts, you judgemental ass.” you spat.

Jerking the handle, you exited the vehicle.

Snow swirled in the open door.

“People here care more about each other than anyone ever did in the swanky condo’s I grew up in. Thanks for the ride.”

You flung the door closed with a thud.

Trekking up the sidewalk, you quickly unlocked the outside door, your mind already on a molten hot shower.

“Honey, I’m home,” you announced to the tiny studio, tossing your bag and coat on the fifth-hand orange and green couch. 

You stretched, exhausted, looking forward to…..

It happened so fast.

One second you were contemplating splurging an extra ten minutes in the shower, the next you were slammed against the kitchen wall, Detective Marshall’s forearm across your neck, other hand over your  mouth.

You flailed at him, hitting and kicking. 

It was like fighting a marble statue.

He leaned in, leg slotted between yours. 

“Taser ain’t much help now is it.”

You pushed at his arm.

“How fucking stupid are you? You didn’t even lock your fucking door. Anyone…”

You bit his fingers, drawing blood. 

He let go, surprised by your counterattack. 

“Get the hell out of…..”

His hand closed around your throat.

Your chest heaved from adrenaline, his booming heartbeat matching yours. 

Without warning, his lips crashed to yours.

The kiss was desperate, all consuming, his beard scratching your delicate skin.

His hand slipped under your top and cheap push-up bra, palming your breast, rough fingers pinching the already pebbled nipple.

The kiss deepened to something dark, Marshall taking control.

You rocked your hips against his muscled thigh, your core on fire.

Snaking down your belly, he slid his hand beneath the waistband of you skirt, callused digits gliding through your damp, plumped slit.

He circled your clit, applying light pressure with each pass, thumb randomly sweeping the bundle of nerves. 

Lost in a sea of sensation, you mewled, the sound swallowed by his warm, searching mouth.

“Tell me to stop.”

Afraid he wouldn’t stop, even more afraid he would, you remained silent as you unzipped his jeans, freeing his heavy cock.

Gathering the sticky wetness from the tip, you stroked his length.

“Fuck.”

The whispered obscenity went straight to your cunt, fresh slick coating his hand. 

He tore your black tights in one motion, leaving you bare.

Marshall lifted your leg, curling it around his waist, his cock poised at you sopping entrance.

“Last chance.”

You draped your arms around his shoulders, balancing yourself.

Taking that as a sign, he pressed into you, you channel stretching painfully.

You cried out, the burn almost too much.

His lips latched to yours, tongues sparing until his cock was fully ensheathed in your heat. 

He pulled out, briefly hesitated, before thrusting in again.

Breaking the kiss, you buried your face in his neck, fingers tangling in his dark curls.

He fucked you now, hips pistoning, his fingers digging into your flesh.

Marshall’s feral grunts mingled with your needy moans.

Tendrils of electricity surged along your nerves.

He lifted your leg higher, changing the angle of penetration, his cock hitting the soft, spongy spot repeatedly. 

“Please,..please..” you choked out.

“I’ve got you.”

You came with a sob, hips pumping in time with his, cunt clenching, the sheer intensity of your orgasm frightening, wave after wave threatening to drown you. 

He drove into you faster, chasing his own release. 

All you could do was hold on, tears staining his coarse, coal gray sweater.

You felt him swell, hips stuttering.

His muscles flexed as he came, pushing you against the wall, milky ropes of cum splashing your walls.

Fevered lust dissipating, he rested his cheek on your head.

Untangling limbs, Marshall fastened his jeans.

He didn’t stay, instead turning towards the door.

Hand on the brass knob, he paused.

“I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.”

His words froze the question in your throat.

Door closed, you collapsed to the floor, head bowed, knees to chest.

“What the hell just happened.” 

@xoxabs88xox @imanuglywombat @fanfic-fangirl @caffiend-queen @alexakeyloveloki @americasass81 @lokislastlove @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @sweeterthanthis @ironlady1993 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @jennmurawski13 @starynighty @sapphirescrolls @xsapphirescrollsx @sagechanoafterdark @momc95 @jtargaryen18 @demonsandpieohmy @dangertoozmanykids101 @lizzystuffsthings @nildespirandum @shikin83 @sinceimetyou @buckybarnesandmarvel @imdarkinme @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @titty-teetee @saiyanprincessswanie @littlefreya

[gretavanlace]

Guitar Fingers

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, alcohol, dirty talk, fingering, etc

“Bass fingers, any day.” you answer Sam’s question without hesitation while tossing your ping pong ball, missing the red solo cup you were aiming for by a mile.

“Ha!” Sammy shouts out, tossing his empty White Claw in Jake’s direction. “Hear that, guitar boy? Bass fingers, any day!”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well nobody ever said she was the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

“Hey, fuck you, Jake!” you retort with a laugh.

He tosses back his whiskey and then tops off.

“I’m just sayin’, love...” he swaggers around the table, readying for his turn. “If you think I couldn’t ruin your whole life with these...” he wiggles his fingers and the light catches his rings, making them wink and glint. “...then you must be sort of dim. That’s the only explanation.”

You watch him sink his tiny white ball effortlessly, and then turn to mutter something in Josh’s ear. His twin's eyes flicker to your face, proving they’re talking about you. Not that you care, you’ve known them too long to be worried about it, they’re the kindest of souls underneath it all, and you know they’d never speak maliciously.

“Seriously though,” Sam chimes in. “I wanna know how you came to that conclusion.”

Classic Sammy, always prowling about for his next compliment. The man is a Hollywood starlet minus the feather boa. Loves to be adored, loves to hear about said adoration even more.

“Well, I’d never really thought about it until you asked.” Lie number one. “But you’re both right handed. Sammy’s dominant hand handles most of the more intricate work on his bass. Jakey’s left does the heavy lifting on his guitar.”

“I’m ambidextrous.” Jake corrects, pointing a finger at you with a wink.

“No, you aren’t!” Sam scowls, perturbed by his older brother honing in on his spotlight.

Jake stands his ground, eyes still trained on you “I am. Just not in situations you’d be privy to seeing, Samuel.”

“Oh, I’m gonna puke.” Josh groans, grabbing at his throat dramatically with a wretch.

“I’d be happy to prove it to you, love.” Jake lowers his voice and raises an eyebrow. “Wanna see what these guitar fingers can do?”

Your face heats with a blush and you silently seethe at your body’s betrayal.

“That’s enough, Jake.” Danny, being Danny, seems to think you could use a little rescuing. “Don’t make her feel uncomfortable.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” he holds his hands up in surrender. “Just extending an invitation is all.”

Quite the contrary really, you’re feeling more along the lines of– skeptical, rather than uncomfortable. Jake seems so cocky and confident. However, if you’re being honest, you don’t believe his smoke and mirrors. He’s just a guy. You’ve spent more than enough time on the road with the four of them to understand that the showmanship of a rock star doesn’t fade completely when they step off stage. They have a reputation to uphold.

It wasn’t like it was a secret.

“Let’s take it in a bit, shall we?” Josh had remarked, pinning the jumpsuit tighter around his pelvis with his hand as you fitted him just last week. “Tighten it up a bit, yeah? S’all about sex, isn’t it, pussycat?”

You’d preened the slightest at the pet name, as you always do when he trots it out.

He’s a sweetheart, and you love to feel close to him. The nickname he saves just for you serves as a reminder that he cherishes your friendship as much as you do his.

The night wears on as the five of you drink, and drink, and drink some more...wiling away the night hours in yet another generic hotel suite to make it easier to sleep the day away aboard a cramped bus chugging along to the next town.

Two o’clock in the morning finds you and Jake engaged in a lazy game of gin rummy, while the others argue over drunken scrabble.

“I don’t know why you guys play with him...” you take a long pull on your beer. “He makes up words and you know it.”

“Pussycat!” Josh sounds shocked and appalled. “How could you say such a thing?” He clutches his imaginary pearls and then laughs wildly at himself while the rest of the room remains stoic.

You draw a card and look up to find Jake eyeing you with a strange expression. He leans forward and pitches his voice low enough that the others won’t hear. “I keep thinking about it now. Do something unattractive so I’ll stop.”

“What?” your hand pauses in mid-air, clutching the seven in your grip so tightly it curls.

He reaches out and drums your wrist lightly with his fingers. “I keep thinking about it. Do something to make me see you like I always see you.”

“And how is that?” you ask, speaking just as softly. The alcohol pumping through your system has you flushed and loose, or maybe it's the way his eyes are tracking your face.

“How do I normally see you?”

You nod and he goes on. “I see you as...you. Off limits.”

Remembering yourself, you cram the card into the fan of its brothers in your hand and attempt to shake off his spell. It doesn’t work. “Why am I off limits?”

“Because you work for us, and that’s always a bad idea.” He clinks his whiskey with your beer, signaling you should both drink. You follow his lead and then he continues. “Plus, you very clearly have a thing for my twin brother.”

Out of all the things that have very recently exited his pretty mouth, this surprises you the most. “Josh?”

Hearing his name, Josh looks up and somehow manages to slur the word, what.

“Nothing, nothing...” you hurry to wave him off and then rise to your feet. “Jake and I are gonna go out on the balcony to smoke.”

“Smoke right here.” Sammy takes a drag off his cigarette as if in demonstration.

“Smoking inside is disgusting.” Jake says, then follows along behind you, sliding the door shut. Neither one of you light up.

“You think I have a thing for Josh?” Now that you can continue the conversation privately, you jump right in.

He leans against the balcony ledge and smirks “Don’t you?”

“Absolutely not.” You insist rapid fire, and honestly.

“Pussycat certainly seems to do it for you.” He’s teasing you, and if physical assault wasn’t socially unacceptable, you’d likely slap his smug face.

You lean against the ledge, mimicking his stance. “It’s just a nickname that I happen to like very much because I happen to like your brother very much. Platonically. That’s as far as it goes.”

“I’m sorry.” he sounds sincere, and ashamed of his assumption. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t,” you force a little smile to set his conscience at ease. “You just surprised me is all. Does everyone think that? Oh my god, that’s humiliating.”

His hand bridges the gap between the two of you to squeeze your shoulder. “Nope. Apparently I was the only one reading you wrong. And here I thought I was the only one seeing you clearly.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you question meekly, unsure of whether or not you want the answer.

“I dunno.” he shrugs. “I guess I just thought I had you pegged.”

“And now?”

He chuckles softly into the night air. “Now, not so much. Also, now I feel stupid.”

A comfortable silence washes over the both of you until, taking on the role of his absent twin– Jake shatters the quiet. “I’m still thinking about it, ya know...in case you were wondering.”

“Oh my god!” you burst into a fit of laughter. “Would you shut up already?”

“Ouch...” he clasps a hand over his heart. “You wound me, love. How can you spurn my advances so easily?” he’s teasing again. Except this time, you don’t feel so much like slapping him.

“Mostly because I think you’re full of shit.” you toss back and watch a competitive edge flare to life in his warm eyes.

“Are you serious?” He prods, tilting his head to the side as if he’s trying to figure you out.

“Jake, it’s only me. You don’t have to be Mr. Rock God.” you intend it to be a calming ‘get out of jail free card’, a promise that he can just be himself with you. Instead, he looks a little pissed.

“You think I’m bluffing.” he announces it as fact, not a question. “You think...” he pauses and steps forward until he is dangerously close. “...that I couldn’t do it.”

“Couldn’t do what?” your voice comes out softer than you intend, smaller.

The back of his hand brushes down your cheek, traveling along to your neck where it comes to rest loosely. “Couldn’t make you cum with just this.” his palm lends the slightest, most barely there pressure against your throat. “With just my hand.”

Whether it’s your intoxicated state, or whether it’s Jake and his natural magnetic pull, you’ll likely never know, but bravely, you rise to your toes and bring your mouths closer. “Why just your hand, though? Why not use this...” your tongue dips out and nudges his mouth softly. “Or this?” Your hand brushes up his thigh to cup him through his pants.

A sharp intake of breath ripples the calm surface of his placid facade, but only for a heartbeat. Then his lips are brushed up close to yours, not kissing you, just resting there.

“Because I like the dominance of it.” his tongue laps slowly over your bottom lip. “To watch you fall apart around my fingers– writhing and wet, dancing on my hand like a gorgeous, fuck-whore of a puppet while I just....watch.” He waits a beat and then you feel his lips tip up in a half smirk when he swallows a tiny moan you can’t manage to catch before it escapes you. “You wanna be my pussycat? Because I’d like to make you purr.”

“Jake.” his name sounds like the sweetest song in this moment and you want to sing it forever.

That is, until he pulls back and moves towards the door. What the hell is he doing?!

“You coming, love?” he questions, and you know right away that the double meaning was no accident.

“You’re a fucking tease.” you breathe, grappling with the balcony railing for stability, still unable to tear your eyes away from his hands.

“You have no idea.” he curls a finger, beckoning you back into the room, simply to further your torment and ducks inside.

Of course, you follow.

The slick between your legs feels obscene and uncomfortable now that you find yourself thrown back into such a mundane setting. Still, you fucking love it.

You watch as Jake deposits himself back down into his chair and grabs up his cards, preparing to finish your game.

Danny and Sam have moved on to Chutes and Ladders. This is a favorite of theirs as they have created an elaborate drinking game of it, complete with complicated house rules that Sammy is always attempting to bend to suit him.

“Come play Chugs and Lagers with us, honey pie.” Sam only ever calls you this when he’s wasted– a nod to your favorite song off the White Album. You love the ridiculousness of it all...the slight mayhem.

“Actually,” you grab your jacket off the back of your chair and shrug it on as Josh continues to drunkenly fuck with the scrabble board that’s been abandoned by everyone else. “I think I’m gonna head back to my room and crash.” Lie number two of the night, you plan to go to your room and make short work of the pounding need Jake has created between your legs.

“Would you like one of us to walk you down?”Josh offers offhandedly. “Ah! Fuck yes! QUICKLY!” He shoves lettered tiles into place on the board. “That’s 75 points!”

You smile to yourself as you watch him play scrabble solitaire, trying to ignore the fact that Jake doesn’t volunteer. “I’m good, boys. See you way too bright and early at the buses.”

The entire time you make your way over to the door, you’re expecting Jake to speak up and insist on walking you back, but, in a move that irritates you and stings to no end, he remains silent and you find yourself out in the hall alone.

Should I text him and ask him to come back to my room with me? You ponder, staring down at the horrendously busy carpeting beneath your feet. Your phone is in your hand, making itself known like an obnoxiously loud child, even though it sits silent. No, you remember his comment about you working for them, and he’s probably right...it would be a terrible idea.

You’re doing your best to convince yourself of this when halfway down the hall, you hear his voice.

“Hey...”

You turn much too enthusiastically. Cute.

“Where do you think you’re going without me?”

He advances on you rapidly, mostly because you can’t seem to move your feet.

Suddenly, he’s crowding out any personal space you might have called your own, pressing you up against the wall.

“Why are you leaving in such a rush?” His taunting question tickles your ear. “Big plans in your room?” he picks up your hands and sucks on your fingers so you’ll know that he knows exactly what you were planning on getting up to.

“Maybe.” you sound much more put together than you feel.

“So your fingers can make you cum, but you don’t think mine can?” his words warm your digits as they rest on his lips deliciously.

“I just don’t think you’re aware of how thoroughly groupies can inflate the ego, Jakey...and I don’t want to be the one to have to break your heart.” And now we’ve landed on lie number three.

“Oh, my darling girl...”He pins you closer to the wall with the weight of his body. “I could play you like a fiddle.”

“A fiddle?” you’re breathless at his proximity. “Are you the devil?”

His tongue slinks out and traces a warm, wet trail along your jaw. “Well I’m sure as fuck not Johnny.”

He catches your soft moan of his name and slips his fingers into the waistband of your pants, barely teasing them inside. “When was the last time you got off?”

Your hips jut away from the wall, silently begging him to slip his touch down lower. “This morning.”

“This morning?” he sounds pleased with you, and slides his hand a little lower, as if in reward. “All by yourself? Where?”

You shudder at his wandering touch and will it to keep moving “In the shower.”

His mouth plays close to your ear. “Me too.”

Fuck. The mental image that has painted in your brain obliterates any sanity you may have had lingering about, and you imagine that was the desired outcome.

Your hands can’t seem to stay still all of the sudden, you’re grabbing and pulling at him, tugging at his hair, yanking at his clothes, desperate to feel his hand sink lower, but it just stays where it is, toying at the hem of your panties.

“Let’s go back to my room.” You shove at his shoulders, attempting to hustle him into moving.

“What for?” Finally, his hand sneaks down, but still not nearly far enough. “Gonna make you cum right here.”

A shocked gasp pops out of you “In the fucking hallway?”

He nods emphatically. “In the fucking hallway.”

“No way.” you fight to sound stern. “Someone could walk out here and see.”

“So? What would they see?” he challenges. “You’re dressed and so am I. So they see my hand inside your sweet little panties. Fuck it.”

“Come on...” you complain through gritted teeth despite your better judgment.

“Come on, what, love?” he grins against your mouth.

“Touch me.”

“Where?” God, he’s fucking infuriating.

“Here,” you grab his forearm and shove it downward, forcing his hand further into your underwear. His middle finger grazes over your clit and an illicit moan flutters out of you.

“You sound so pretty and dirty.” he nuzzles your neck, and slowly, much too slowly, circles your aching bundle of nerves. “I bet you’re a fucking angel when you cum. A perfect little cum slut of an angel.”

Astounded by his obscene vernacular, your eyes widen as you fall silent.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” he catches your eye with the slyest of smiles. “You’re fucking soaked.”

A noise down the hall startles you out of the lust drunk world he has created just for you and you instantly freeze. “Did you hear that?”

“Ice machine.” he murmurs, sucking warm, wet blossoms of heat along your neck.

“Jake...” his fingers begin a campaign of tight circles just right on your clit, interrupting you. “My room...come on.”

“It’s here or nowhere, baby.” his teeth catch your earlobe. “What’s it gonna be? You wanna cum on my fingers or not?”

“Baby?” you quip with a gasping giggle.

“That’s what I said. Baby.” he nods, working your clit faster after dipping inside you to gather your slick. “You wanna be my baby, love? You wanna be my pretty little sweetheart and cum for me like a good girl?”

Oh, he is an out and out derelict. Who could say no to that? He fights dirty.

“Mhmm...” your mouth falls open with a stuttering moan as he yanks your pants down far enough to slip his other hand into your panties as well.

His opposite hand pushes two fingers inside you, curling just right as your hands fly into his hair. “I can’t stay quiet, Jake...” you pant, thrashing your head back and forth along the wall behind you. “It feels too good. Make me cum, please...fuck me with your fingers just like that...fuck.”

“Cover your mouth.” his demand shakes out of him from the effort he is exerting to give it to you as hard as you’re begging for it.

“What?” you’re unsure of what he wants, and too lost to the throes of pleasure to think it through.

“My hands, baby...” he smirks and licks at your lips. “They’re a little full at the moment, and as pretty as you sound right now, I just can’t have someone coming out here to see what all the fuss is about. So, be a good girl and shut yourself up.”

Your hand rips away from his shoulder and clamps over your mouth just in time to stifle a particularly zealous cry of his name. It feels almost as if his fingers are actually vibrating on your swollen, aching, clit, they’re fluttering so swiftly...and the twisting motion he is applying inside should be deemed illegal...nothing should feel this gluttonously sinful.

“That’s it, love...” he breathes into your ear. “Now cum for me...I know you’re close, your sweet little cunt is gushing all over my palm.” a hum of great approval coils out of him. “So fucking wet. Are you a squirter? You gonna soak me?”

If anyone else had ever had the audacity to utter something so vulgar to you, you most certainly would have laid them out with a punch to the throat. With Jake? You want him to say it again. Moreover, you want it to be true. You want to lose control and cover him in the evidence of what he’s made you feel...unfortunately, you just aren’t made that way.

“I...” you begin, but he pumps into roughly and without mercy, and your eyes pop wide open.

“Go on, baby...” he teases, fucking up into you even faster, curling into that perfect spot of heaven tucked way up inside you. “Tell me.”

“I can’t...” another curl of those perfect fingers.“Jake...” and another.

“You can’t, what?” he coaxes, sounding so entirely filthy and wrong.

“I can’t...” you’re attempting to tell him that you can’t squirt, that that just isn’t a skill you possess, but your orgasm crashes into you without warning and rather than finishing your thought, you’re a little more preoccupied with him and the bliss he has see free to roam through your system. “Fuck, Jake...fuck, keep going, don’t let it end...feels so fucking good...fuck fuck fuck...”

“I’d like to fuck that dirty mouth of yours.” he whispers against your throat, punctuating his statement with a stinging nip of his teeth. “But that wasn’t good enough, I want to feel you really let go for me first, and you’re so close. Come on, pussycat...purr for me.”

Something about his brother’s innocent term of endearment rasping from his fiendish mouth sets your entire body on fire, and before your first climax has even begun to think about fading, you’re cumming again, harder than you would have ever thought yourself capable of. Especially standing somewhat uncomfortably in a hotel hallway where you should feel absolutely ashamed of yourself. Instead you feel free, and beautiful, and fucking alive.

“That’s it, baby...” he sounds awestruck as you shower your release down around his hand. “That’s my fucking sweet little baby...such a good girl.”

If someone had asked you at the start of the night if you had a kink for praise, you probably would have said something along the lines of... “Maybe giving praise, if it’s deserved...but receiving it? No thanks, I’m secure in my own skin, thanks. I don’t need some dude telling me what a good job I’m doing or whatever.”

Right now? You would crawl through broken glass to earn Jake’s accolades over and over.

Finally, your eyes find his with a deep, centering breath. “That was fucking insane...I came so hard.”

“Open that beautiful mouth, baby.” he whispers back.

You obey and there are both of his hands, feeding his drenched fingers past your lips.

“How pretty and sweet do you taste, love? Tell me.”

In response, you pull one of his hands from your lips and press it to his own. He sucks his own digits in with a low groan. “Like fucking candy.”

After a moment, he tucks those gorgeous hands under your arms and swings you around, placing you on your feet in the middle of the hall with a soft smack on your ass through your jeans that are still unbuttoned and disheveled . “See you in the morning, babe.”

“What?” you sound more incredulous than you would’ve liked, but that can’t be helped now.

“I said I’ll see you in the morning.” he starts down the hall, blowing you a cheeky kiss.

Stunned doesn’t begin to touch upon your current state. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack, pretty girl.” There’s that cocky confidence rearing its head again. “The tour is just beginning...we have all the time in the world.”

With that, he disappears around the corner in the direction of his room.

Taglist: @gardenofgreta @greta-van-chaos @moonlightbrekker @theweightofstardust @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @shesalrightshesouttasight @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @kdarling1 @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @greta-flanveet-admin @alisonwonderland29 @agirlwithmanytastes @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @janegvf @sparrowofthedawn @dakotadovato @xserenax-13 @pardeeinsaginaw @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @loofypoofy @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @ohgotthisfeelingthatyoucantfight @prophetofthedune @gretavanflowerpower @gretasmokerising @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @trplshotofdopamine @sarakay-gvf @joshsmama @joshkiszkas @sammysvanfeet @kiszkashorizons @jakekiszkasleftnutsack

[itsclydebitches]

Once again writing meta no one asked for because a couple times now I’ve come across the take that Ed was trying to teach Izzy about the shape of the clouds—and by extension reassure him that he didn’t need to worry about the Spanish—but Israel Refuses To Understand Ed Like Stede Does Hands is just too caught up in his own nonsense to realize. If he’d just listened to Ed then none of this would have happened, Izzy is the worst, any ship with him is toxic, etc. etc.

And I’m like…wait, seriously? Because legit, if people think Ed was actively trying to teach Izzy there then Ed is the worst instructor currently sailing the high seas.

Which, you know, is actually an interesting reading because I’m of the opinion that Ed is pretty bad at communicating, all things considered. He needs to learn what passive aggression is and it takes him a long time to realize when the party-goers are being insincere towards him. With a healthy dose of Jack’s manipulation, he leaves Stede with only a “You were always gonna realize what I am” without bothering to explain what that means or why it requires them to part—only to then show back up with a “Never left!” as an ‘explanation’ for his sudden change of heart. He sat in a bathtub and cried over how he doesn’t have any friends (right before me meet Jack), who hasn’t killed anyone since he murdered his father (right after he orders a man skinned and thrown overboard), while throwing out lines like, “You don’t deserve to go to doggy heaven” that function as a joke for the audience precisely because Stede has no idea what he’s talking about. This is the man who was singing with the crew one minute and trying to murder them the next, with no one but the audience and Izzy having any idea how Ed might have gotten from one extreme to the next. Ed’s trauma manifesting as communication issues is a whole complicated subject that this post isn’t actually about. The only point I’m trying to make here is that Ed, flawed as he is, might have thought he was teaching Izzy something… but that doesn’t change how ineffective the lesson actually was:

Izzy: We need to move quickly before the Spanish realize we’ve massacred all their men.

Ed: Oh, the Spanish. They die quite dramatically, don’t they, the Spaniards? Lots of blubbering for their God.

Izzy: Yeah, agreed. Now, we should really discuss—

Ed: Izzy, Izzy, Izzy, Izzy, look out there. Those clouds. Do they look like frankfurters to you?

Izzy: They look like clouds, boss. Can we please just focus on—

Ed: Yes, yes, they look like clouds because they are indeed clouds, but if you just put some fucking imagination into it, man.

Izzy: …I suppose they look like sausages.

Ed: Frankfurters, yes! Exactly. It’s like pulling teeth with you sometimes, man. Let’s get to it.

Okay, let’s break this down a bit. Izzy starts the conversation by reminding Ed that the Spanish are after them and they need to move “quickly” if they want to survive the inevitable encounter. AKA, we need to have this conversation now, boss. Rather than engaging with that problem though—how to kill the Spanish—Ed waxes poetic about the dramatics when they do die which, apart from the subject of Spaniards in general, is entirely removed from the issue Izzy is trying to get him to engage with. Hence his first attempt to get the conversation onto relevant ground: “Now, we should really discuss—” Yet instead of continuing on about Spaniards, Ed latches onto what’s seemingly a non-sequitur, talking about the clouds instead. Does he tell Izzy that clouds shaped like frankfurters mean something to an experienced sailor? No. Does he tell him that they specifically mean a fog will roll in? No. Does he mention that a fog, combined with the night’s tides, will be very useful in fixing the very problem Izzy is concerned with? No! As far as Izzy is concerned, there’s nothing linking what he wants to discuss and what Ed is talking about—“Can we please just focus on…”—and he’s not in the wrong for his confusion. Ed’s use of “imagination” implies that this is just a game they’re playing, not something connected to their work. His “Let’s get to it” signals that now they’re focusing on the important tasks at hand, relegating everything before this to the realm of unimportant diversion. It’s also significant that this is the same episode where Ed is running around showing Izzy the cool stuff in Stede’s cabinet, the tiny model of The Revenge, their bird guy. How is Izzy supposed to distinguish between the stuff Ed is showing him just because it’s cool stuff and he wants to emotionally connect, and the stuff that is—apparently—the answer to their impending death problem? He can’t! There is no way for him to distinguish between the two. Now toss in the fact that when Izzy does pressure Ed to come up with a plan, he yells about how bored he is and hey, we haven’t tried dying yet, have we? Let’s do that instead.

So Ed is:

A) According to all logic except his own avoiding talking about the Spanish

B) Has spent the whole day showing Izzy neat things, rending the one important neat thing lost in the shuffle

C) Angrily dismisses the need to continually come up with new plans for their survival

D) Overtly says that maybe they should just die instead: “Maybe we should try that.”

What in all that is going to convince Izzy that Ed does have a plan, actually, and if he somehow parses through every random thing Ed has pointed out today, he’d realize based on knowledge he doesn’t share that everything is totally fine? I mean, how dare Izzy question him, even when he had every possible reason to? (/s) More seriously, I find that Look™ Ed gives him during the fog scene as funny as the next fan, but from Izzy’s PoV I’d be pissed as hell. He’s spent the day convinced they’re going to die because his depressed captain is more interested in clouds and trinkets than their lives. Even when Izzy points out that many have already died in pursuit of his entertainment, the only response is an indifferent, “They’re pirates.” That’s not exactly reassuring. Then, right when a battle seems inevitable (a battle they’ll lose given the ineptitude of Stede’s crew) all this resolves with a Look™ that paints Izzy as in the wrong for ever wavering in his belief? The belief that, at this point, Ed is actually requiring to be blind given that he won’t tell Izzy anything with context attached? In the realm of fanfic we love writing Izzy as 110% devoted without a single doubt ever entering his head, but canonically he pushes back a lot... and he has good reason to. 

Their dynamic is so supremely messed up and no, that’s not solely on the shoulders of “pining for his boyfriend” Izzy. From this interaction all the way through to Ed, in a premeditated move, deciding to maim his first mate for the crime of verbally being a dick, he gives just as good as he gets when it comes to fucking up their already fucked up relationship.

Because yeah, personally I think Ed is vague about the clouds on purpose.

See, while I certainly believe it’s possible to read Ed as (very badly) teaching Izzy here—his frustrated “It’s like pulling teeth with you, man” may signal him not understanding why Izzy wants to talk about the thing they’re clearly (in his mind) already talking about, rather than simply being generally frustrated that he’s not the kind of guy to use his “imagination” and have fun with him—the far more likely reading to my mind is that Ed is deliberately stoking everyone’s panic, Izzy’s included. Because this is a fuckery. It’s a production. He wants to show off. Ed is bored with everything nowadays and he’s getting his kicks by stringing people along until he gets to dramatically reveal that he had a solution up his sleeve the whole time. At this point in the show, Ed is entirely indifferent towards how his quest for entertainment might hurt others, both physically (“They’re pirates”) and emotionally (Izzy’s distress). This whole plan of his starts by having Lucius count backwards and instructing him to find him when he’s near zero. Ed then agrees to play dressup with Stede so that Stede becomes Blackbeard, playfully putting him in the position of fixing this mess with the Spanish (“That’s Blackbeard”). Except it stops being playful as time runs out. Izzy eventually resorts to interrogating Stede about their munitions (questions he can’t answer) because Ed has, he thinks, proven that he won’t do anything to alleviate the danger they’re in. Ed leans into that part of his game, continually egging Stede on to come up with a brilliant plan to save them all. Lucius arrives with his ominous countdown, his smile slips as he realizes that something serious is going on, Ed is getting louder, yelling that something has to be done, you’re going to lose all your men, everyone who trusted you, they’re going to die and it’ll be all your fault! Izzy is already at the end of his rope and now Stede is legitimately freaking out because he doesn’t know, he doesn’t how to fix this and yes they’re all going to die and it’ll be his fault.

“Death it is…” Ed whispers. “But wait!”

Which is when Black Pete arrives with his, “You’re a genius, Blackbeard! I knew you’d save us.”

This is Ed wanted the whole time: the dramatics of getting everyone to a point where they’re totally freaked out, sure death is inevitable, so his save seems even more miraculous, impressive, and downright brilliant than it would have if he’d just gone, “No worries. There’s a fog coming” a couple hours earlier. Ed wants to be able to walk out on deck to a round of relieved applause, take his bow, cheerfully explain his brilliance to the captive audience, and stare pointedly at Izzy until he goes, “Frankfurters… fuck me.” This is part of who Blackbeard is. Not just a genius sailor with a penchant for dishing out violence, but someone who loves the performance aspect of his role; the excitement of squeezing in a save at the last possible second and being socially rewarded for it. I suspect that Ed has always been like this, but that his boredom has exacerbated this desire to the point where it, well… frankly, it fucks him over.

Because Ed’s plan fails. I’m always surprised when, in discussing the cloud conversation, fans so often skip over the part where his supposedly brilliant solution was doomed before it could ever be implemented. Ed needs a partner to balance him out—that’s a whole other post: what Izzy and Stede both bring to that partnership—because though Ed is indeed amazing at some aspects of this life, he’s not good at the minutiae that will allow him to successfully pull his plans off. He needs a crew to be good at fighting, dying, and managing everything surrounding the broad order to follow the fancy man’s ship. He needs Izzy (and then someone else) to get him out of his harness because although Ed can pull off a good scare, he didn’t think about how to get himself down. And he needs Izzy to go, “It’s the 1st, boss” because Ed is so caught up in the brilliance of his clouds and his tides that he doesn’t bother to double-check the date. Worse, by hiding his plan until the last possible second, Ed risks not being able to do anything about it when things go sideways. If he’d explained hours earlier, then the crew would have had hours to think up another option. The fact that they do still come up with the lighthouse idea between the fog arriving and the Spanish hitting them doesn’t erase the danger Ed put everyone in by cutting it so close.

What strikes me about the whole ‘Izzy should have trusted Ed’ takeaway is not just that Ed’s plan is a failure, but that if Izzy had learned that lesson, they all would have died. If after “Frankfurters, fuck me” he’d have kept his mouth shut because obviously the brilliant Blackbeard knows exactly what he’s doing at all times, no one would have corrected Ed about the tides and they would have crashed right into the Spanish, resulting in at best the fight they were trying to avoid, at worst both ships sinking as a result. Izzy’s willingness to continually push and correct Ed is what cues them all into the plan’s flaw, saving them in the process. And yeah, on the heels of that Ed does (with that partnership with Stede) come up with another brilliant plan that actually works, but before that he gives up. Even the initial lesson of ‘Blackbeard always has a plan’ is proven false because no, he doesn’t. No sooner does his one plan fail than Ed has thrown in the towel. He tells the crew to jump overboard. He says he’s going to get drunk. That’s how quickly Ed gives up and resigns himself to death. Everything that Izzy and the audience sees throughout the episode—all those hints and worries that he’s no longer trying hard enough to survive and, as a result, endangering everyone under his command—appears to be hand-waved away when the first plan is revealed… only to then be proven true a few seconds later.

Yeah, Izzy is the antagonist, the asshole, the guy who can’t just give in to the Rom-Com shenanigans, but that doesn’t mean he’s automatically wrong in every situation we see him in. Ed is presented as a “shell of the man” that Blackbeard once was, someone grappling with depression and boredom to the point where he can no longer captain effectively. And while yes, that’s horrible for Ed, the fact that he’s struggling doesn’t magically negate all the harm he’s doing to others in the process, intentionally or otherwise. There’s no reason for Izzy to blindly trust him when Ed refuses to communicate clearly with him. Izzy has every right to be pissed at how many have died—and are presumably going to die next—in the name of their captain finding something interesting to hold his attention. And when Ed moves from sitting in his cabin all day, to recklessly attacking the Spanish, to hiding the fact that he has a plan, to then actually giving up, to lying about planning to kill Stede, to signing over his life to the British, to unexpectedly showing back up demanding tea, to announcing that they shouldn’t even be pirates anymore, to slipping into his room in the dead of night to cut off a toe… Izzy has the right to be asking what the FUCK is going on and when can I trust your leadership again? Which, as always, doesn’t excuse all the shit Izzy pulls in an effort to return to his preferred version of normal, but this idea that Ed is a picture perfect captain who was magnanimously trying to teach Izzy something, but mean ol’ Iz was just too much of a bastard to listen is… not very text accurate.

Whenever the subject of Izzy and Ed’s dynamic comes up I’m reminded that Izzy was ready to leave. I’ve seen it a couple of times in the Izzy tag, “He could just leave if he’s so unhappy 🙄” and the complications of being in love with your captain aside, I think a lot of people legitimately forget that Izzy tried. He was moments from launching that dinghy when Ed roped him back in with two cards: the emotional “I need you here” card and the Blackbeard ‘This is just a fuckery. I fully intend to kill Stede Bonnet and steal his wealth. Don’t worry, I’m still the same, hardened captain you signed up to serve’ card. As said, Ed is not a good communicator. He hasn’t worked through his own shit yet and as a result can’t tell Izzy, ‘Yeah, this is what I actually want now. The marmalade, dressup, not much raiding… if that’s not your thing you should go. Take the Queen Anne if you want it.’ He ends up lying—deliberately or unintentionally due to his own conflicted feelings is up for debate—and as a result Izzy spends weeks thinking that he’s still on the right track. Blackbeard needs him to help him be Blackbeard... so he will. He’ll duel Stede on his behalf. He’ll use Jackie and the British to save him from the guy whose “done something” to his brain. Obviously Izzy has his own agency in all this and his warped perception of events is 99% his own fault, but it’s not like Ed has ever assisted that perception by being clear about what he wants. Because he doesn’t know. He wants to kill Stede... but not enough to go through with it. He wants to be with Stede always... but not enough to go looking for him after he fails to show at the dock. He wants to be called “Edward” and hold talent shows... but one pissy conversation with Izzy and he’s back to force-feeding people their own toes. Though we the audience can easily see what would be the healthiest route for everyone to take, within the realm of their “real” world, Izzy can’t help Ed when A) his own “culture of abuse” has made the healthier options appear dangerous and/or disgusting to him and B) Ed can’t even stay consistent about what he wants for longer than a few scenes.

Which, to circle back, includes the clouds scene. To me, that moment is a part of Ed’s struggle to alleviate his boredom, deliberately being vague so that he can slam in with an awesome save at the last second. Which would be questionable enough if the save had even worked, but as it stands, it’s a good, early indicator of how his lack of communication (born of his own insecurities) is feeding Izzy’s fucked-up idea of what Ed needs: namely, for someone to definitively tell him the “right” way to act since he can’t make up his mind. Right now it’s all blurred lines between the shut-in with the erratic moods and the charismatic captain, the brilliant sailor and the pessimist who’s going to go down with the ship, the man in love with Stede Bonnet and the pretender planning to murder him, the guy who Stede was always going to see and the one who never left, the man who wants to go to China and the one who returns to The Revenge, the one who thinks they should be performers one minute and back to being hardened pirates the next … all these options and identities flip-flopping at the slightest provocation and if Ed doesn’t know what he wants, how can he possibly tell Izzy? The end result is a man who, when faced with a first mate threatening him, a crew cheering for “Edward,” the memory of a group whose interest turned out to be a lie, and a lover who abandoned him, goes so hard in one identity direction that he tries to kill seven people and maims an eighth in the span of twenty-four hours. Everyone in this trio is supremely fucked up, hurting those around them while attempting to work through their own problems. Ed is definitely not an exception to that, certainly not to the point where he can subtly teach Izzy things without any complicated, ulterior motives attached.