#from you I call it a fucking badge of honour

[ranbling]

stop tagging your shit bucktommy when you're just hating on it, no one in that tag wants to see your dumbass delusional brain rotted takes that directly contradict what is actually happening in the show. bucktommy haters love yap about tommy not dressing up even though fucking no one dressed up and he had a shift like 2 hours later but you're all fucking silent about tommy being up all night working a 12+ hour shift fighting a live wildfire and not even stopping to shower or get changed before rushing over because he didn't want to be late bc buck asked him to be there. like how can possibly twist that into "tommy's an awful person bc he didn't do exactly what i wanted him to do"

I tag "anti Bucktommy" every time I talk about the ship so people who don't want to see critisism or takes that are critical of their ship can filter it out. I can show you how to do the same, so you don't have to slide into people's asks to write a whole rant, it's really good for mental health.

Hen and Karen actually dressed up, it was subtle, but Hen's jacket was a prime example how can you dress for the theme without buying a whole ass costume. Tommy was also not on-shift, he was on-call which is different. On-call means you might be called into work during a 24H period, which happened here. However he still has to change into uniform, so I don't see how not wearing anything for the theme comes into play. Or do you think he'll fight fires in Henleys?

I don't recall I ever said or denied that Tommy went to the hospital? But my memory might be wrong, I am ✨delusional✨ after all. Though I did say Tommy is not as perfect as some fans make him out to be, so you might be confusing things?

Or it might be that you're the one who is ignoring things? Like Tommy's whole backstory (not the one that Lou said in his paid cameos, but the one we see in the begin episodes?), or how he left Buck on the curb (without telling him he will leave right until the taxi pulled up), or how he dismissed Buck when he was disappointed that he didn't dressed up? One kiss will not change that for me

Thanks for the ask, I really enjoyed answering it!!

[megwritesriddles]

I Despise You ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 1 - Angry Sex. Reader is the Head Girl and Riddle is the Head Boy, Riddle likes to push Reader's boundaries until it all boils over. Minimal plot but a smidge anyway.

Tags: Angry sex, P in V, Fingering (fem receiving), Unprotected sex, Magic as birth control, Enemies with benefits, Arguing (which is badly written oops), Attempt at angst, Tiny bit of sexism from Riddle, Reader is wearing a dress (I imagined one of those Sabrina Carpenter babydoll dresses lol), Head boy Riddle, Head girl Reader, Historical inaccuracy.

Word count: 3.4k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: First installment of Kinktober and first post on tumblr!! woo!! please show me some love if you like it!! I am terrible at writing arguments because I hate confrontation irl oops!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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Being appointed as Head Girl was supposed to be the best thing to ever happen to you. You’d been working toward it since at least the third year and it was all you ever seemed to hope for. It was meant to be an achievement that you and your friends would all celebrate, perhaps head down to the Three Broomsticks and spoil you with free drinks for the night in honour of your achievement. But, life wasn’t so kind.

When your position as Head Girl was announced all you had received from your friends were pitying looks, all due to the pesky little detail of who had been announced as Head Boy to serve alongside you. Tom Riddle. Tom. Fucking. Riddle. Of course, Professor Dippett had had to announce his name first, meaning you hadn’t even gotten a second of enjoyment from your appointment. He had stood up smugly at the Slytherin table, basking in the cheers from his house, flashing a charming smile to the room as he made his way to the front of the hall. For the first time in your life, at that moment, you had prayed that Head Girl would not be you. It was. Your name was called, your house applauded and your legs carried you over to Riddle’s side. He grinned down at you, that little glint of mockery in his eye that you could only see from this close. You wanted to punch him, that would surely lose you the Head Girl position and solve this problem, but you had your future to think of. You had repeated that to yourself all that night as you and Riddle had been whisked off to the staff room to be briefed on your positions and given your badges. Riddle was the picture of charm, laughing with the various professors that came to speak with you, you just sat there, smiling falsely, looking a little like you’d just been hit over the head with a plank. You felt like it too. Your lifelong dream had just been turned into something poisonous. Really, you thought to yourself as Slughorn guided you through the corridors to the Head’s quarters, you should have seen this coming. They weren’t supposed to appoint two students from the same house, so logically, if you were picked for Head Girl, it was only ever going to be Riddle at your side. You wondered why you hadn’t considered this before, it was so obvious with hindsight. You scowled at the back of his and Slughorn’s heads as you ascended some stairs, them chatting together jovially, making your blood boil.

Slughorn shows you the small common room, enough seating for about four people, a fireplace, and a little kitchenette with some stools, decorated with opulence. It would all have been very nice if it hadn’t been for Riddle standing there commenting on the lovely brass crests. The separate rooms were your biggest comfort, both off of little halls from the common room in different directions. You could hide in there from him, you told yourself over and over. You didn’t have the headspace to be impressed by the beautiful ensuites with golden-tapped baths, just wanting Slughorn to leave so you would no longer have to listen to Riddle’s disgustingly smooth voice. Eventually, Slughorn did leave the two of you to go to bed. As he shut the common room door, you could see Riddle’s mouth opening from the corner of your eye. You darted to your room before he could get the words out, slamming the door, relieved to find all your things already there. You collapsed onto the bed and sighed. The nightmare was only beginning.

The hands on the clock point to 3:30 am. It’s a Monday morning, you have a meeting with Dumbledore in just a few hours, but sleep is impossible. He has friends over again. The deep bass of their voices reverberates through the walls of the common room. They’re chatting and laughing like always, most likely drinking too, you’ve spotted them with whiskey a few times. You seethe with anger in your bed, just last week you had kindly approached him, and not for the first time, about this issue. You had emphatically asked him to be considerate of you and your time. He had placated you like always.

“Yes darling, I didn’t realise we were being so bothersome, won’t happen again,” he had soothed, but of course, it was happening again right now. You kept somehow getting caught in his charms, the very ones you had been immune to for so long. It had to be the sleep deprivation he was causing, that was what was making you melt a little whenever he called you darling or smiled just so, in the way that used to make you feel sick. In the dark of your room, you lie on your side and curse inwardly. Reporting him had crossed your mind many times, but you knew he would just charm his way out of it, like he did with everything. Your ears rumble with another deep laugh from the group of men in the other room and you’ve had enough. Throwing off your duvet and stomping to your bedroom door, you fling it open and head into the common room. He sits reclined leisurely in an armchair by the fireplace, his sleeves rolled up and tie loose. His ankles are crossed, resting on the coffee table in front of him, he chuckles at something, you couldn’t care less what, the firelight dancing over his face. He hasn’t noticed you, but across from him on the opposite armchair, his friend, Avery, straightens up and grins at you. His eyes drift over you, you realise instantly that you stomped out here in only your nightgown and socks and flush lightly, but stand your ground.

“Riddle!” you bark, surprising even yourself with the viciousness of your tone. This brings his attention to you effectively. His other two friends turn to look at you over the back of the sofa, Riddle doesn’t even straighten up when he looks up at you, smirking in a self-satisfied way that makes your insides twist oddly.

“Hello darling,” he speaks smoothly. “You look a picture tonight,” he lets his eyes drift up and down your figure without shame. You go red with anger and embarrassment.

“Doesn't she just?” One of his friends, Rosier, comments with a mocking chuckle. This sets you off.

“Out!” You screech. All the boys look taken aback by the intensity of your outburst. “Out, out, out!”

“Fine,” Riddle hisses in an infuriatingly calm tone. “You lot should go, you heard the Head Girl,” you hear the mocking tone in his voice, suggesting he thinks you’re hysterical. You stand there with your fists clenched, staring the men down as they get up and head for the door, feeling ridiculous but not wanting to show any weakness. Once they all leave and shut the door behind them, the two of you fall into silence for a moment. He’s watching you, but not in the leering way from earlier, he almost looks impressed with you. You avert your eyes from the closed door onto his face, he’s leaning forward now, with his elbows on his knees. Just when you’re considering simply turning to leave, he speaks up. “Happy now, darling? You’re really no fun, we were only talking,” his eyes fix on yours, burning deeply. You scoff indignantly.

“It’s nearly 4 am Riddle, you know I have a meeting in the morning, I have brought this up to you countless times and–”

“Yes, but you don’t seem to understand that I simply don’t care to keep you happy, darling,” he grins. You let out a frustrated yelp.

“You are unbelievable! How were you ever chosen for Head Boy when you're this insidious? You don’t deserve it!” You snap. This stirs something in him. His eyes darken and he stands up from the armchair.

“And you do, do you darling?” he asks slowly, stalking toward you. “You’re the picture of perfection, aren’t you just?” You’re not sure what to say to this, any answer seems wrong like it’ll give him reason to dig into you further. Your mouth opens and shuts for a moment before you settle on a shrug. Your hands flex in the fists they’re tightened into as a smirk spreads over his face. “You don’t seem so high and mighty from here,” he chuckles, stopping in front of you. He has several inches on you and you’re forced to look up at him. “You look lovely in this little nightie,” he comments with a grin, reaching out to trace the lace at the strap with the tip of his finger. You jolt away instantly, glaring up at him.

“Don’t you dare touch me! And don’t you dare comment on my looks!” You hissed, smacking his hand away. His eyes darken even more at this.

“And don’t you dare smack me,” he growls. “I was merely paying you a compliment,”

“Like hell you were!” You scoff. “You’re trying to make me feel small,” he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“If the shoe fits,” he grins. You scowl, shoving at him without thinking about it. He stumbles back slightly, looking momentarily bewildered. When he realises what you just did he surges for you. He grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you into the wall. You let out a small oof sound as you collide with the wall, surprised it didn’t hurt more than it did. For a moment, you wonder if he had avoided hurting you until you look up and see the fire in his eyes, then you wonder if he wishes he had just killed you. “I would have rather had literally anyone as Head Girl than you, you are the bane of my existence,” he snarls, gripping your shoulders hard.

“I’m the bane of your existence? I don’t have friends over until the small hours of the morning! Imagine how I feel!” You spit back. You can tell he’s barely listening to you.

“You are insufferable! You’re the only person who doesn’t fawn over the sight of me and it’s you that I get stuck with for the whole year!” he scoffs. “I will not let you control my lifestyle!” he adds angrily. “I will not bend my life to make you happy! I am not subservient to anyone and I never will be!” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly.

“You are ridiculous,”

“I despise you,” he hisses venomously. “You’re always everywhere I am, you’re always following me around, tailing me in every subject, you had to go for this position when I’ve had my sights locked on it since first year!” He pushes you back into the wall again. “Are you happy now darling? You got Head Girl and now we’re both miserable! You must be thrilled!”

“You think I’m following you around?” you sneer. “How full of yourself are you that you think me going for Head Girl was about you? You seem to think you’re the centre of everything, but in my life Riddle, you are just an inconvenience, you are nothing,” you seethed. Something flashes in Riddle’s eyes, his jaw working.

“I am nothing?” he demands. “I am nothing?” he’s shaking now and you’re sure he’s about to hex you or punch you, his eyes flick between yours, his whole body coiled tight and ready to pounce. Instead, his lips are suddenly on yours, thrusting your head back against the wall. You yelp in surprise, your eyes wide, the back of your head hurting from being pressed into the hard surface. He kisses you without a single hint of affection, kissing you like it’s a punishment, a way of muzzling you, but Merlin, somehow it feels good. He’s grabbing at you, taking fistfuls of your nightgown in his hands. You find that you’re kissing him back, that you have been practically since his lips met yours and that you’re doing so eagerly. Your head is spinning as his arms wrap around you and he pulls you harshly to him, the hard planes of his lean body pressing against you. Your arms snake around his neck and he lets you yank at his hair. He’s kissing you so hard that you’re practically tipping backwards. Your tongues rub against each other as you kiss frantically. He’s leading you to the sofa, throwing you down and then settling above you. He props himself up, his hands on either side of your head. You both take this moment to catch your breaths, staring intensely at each other as your chests rise and fall rapidly. “Am I still nothing?” he growls, a little breathless. Once again, you don’t know what the right thing to say is. One of his hands moves down and starts to push up the hem of your nightdress, revealing your thighs to his devouring eyes. You grab him and kiss him again instead of talking, just as hard and unforgiving as before.

You feel your nightdress being bunched at your waist and hear the faint sound of a zip being pulled down. You kiss him harder, nipping at his bottom lip harshly and scrunching your eyes shut. He just groans in response, pushing down his slacks haphazardly, his other hand keeping him propped up above you. You’re suddenly awfully overheated, both from lying on the sofa in front of the blazing fireplace and from the realisation of what he’s planning to do to you. Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to let him fuck you on the sofa in the common room? Riddle? The man you’ve hated for years? The man who has been deliberately antagonising you for the past several weeks, and especially tonight? Your hands are resting on his stomach, and you connect the dots in mild horror that you’ve been unbuttoning his shirt without even realising it. You feel completely out of control of yourself, you’ve never acted this way before. You gasp in surprise when you feel his fingers pressing against your core through the fabric of your underwear. His fingers rub roughly, sending jolts of pain and pleasure through you. You whine slightly, feeling him smirk against your lips. You scratch at his chest a little in retaliation. He grunts, you can’t tell if he likes it or not and it bothers you. His fingers hook into your underwear and start to tug down. This is your last chance to back out, to throw him off of you and run away, but you find yourself unable to do anything but writhe and cling to his shoulders. The underwear is discarded on the floor and he is using his free hand to spread your thighs open, you flush deeply as he pulls away from the kiss to look down at you. You can feel how wet you are and you hate that, based on the smug little grin on his face, he knows it too. Your cheeks are burning as he reaches down, using two fingers to spread your folds. He lets out a needy sound by accident and it’s your turn to gloat. He flashes you a glare and plunges a finger into your tight heat in revenge. This makes your back arch and your lips part and he smirks back at you.

“So wet…” he comments, self-satisfied, his finger creating obscene squelches as he pumps it in and out of you slowly. You snarl at him, lashing out in embarrassment. You grab at the tent in his boxers, feeling him rock-hard under the fabric. He frowns in embarrassment, withdrawing his finger from you which makes you whimper a little. “You’re asking for it now, darling,” he growls. He’s scrambling to rid himself of his boxers. His tip is quickly prodding at your entrance and you gasp and arch slightly. He glides against you for a moment, his tip rubbing deliciously at your clit, seeming like he’s waiting for something. Then, he’s plunging into you. You let out a pathetic little cry and he grins. “Does that feel good?” he coos mockingly as he fully seats himself inside you. You both gasp for breath as your tight heat embraces him. It does feel good, torturously so, but his mocking tone irks you.

“I hate you,” you growl up at him as he lowers himself onto his elbows, his face right above yours. He scowls, panting slightly.

“I hate you too, believe me,” his arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you in place. He buries his face in your neck and starts to nip as his hips begin to rock harshly. His thrusts are hard and punishing, slow, withdrawing almost completely and then slamming forward, just short of painful. You whine and grab at his back, letting your nails dig into him, he doesn’t seem to mind. He speeds up, grunting loudly against your neck. He pulls back to watch as you move along with his thrusts, your eyes scrunched shut and lips parted with desperate whines. He pants, his hot breaths washing over your face. He speeds up even more, growling like a crazed animal. “Look at you, falling apart under me, what would your friends think?” he taunts. Your eyes squeeze tighter shut, a wave of shame passing through you that somehow heightens your pleasure.

“Shut the fuck up,” you whine. You hear him laughing mockingly. You muster your strength and clench your walls around him. His laugh morphs into a choked groan at the sensation, his hips stuttering. He was more affected by this than you expected, his pace now brutal as he fucks into you, clearly desperately chasing release now, rather than focusing on playing mind games on you. His lips meet yours again and you kiss back. It’s clumsy and sloppy, given how fast he’s moving, but it just heightens everything you’re feeling. “You gonna come already?” you mock as you feel him faltering in his thrusts. He groans angrily against your lips.

“I despise you,” he hisses shakily, propping himself back up so he can thrust into you more relentlessly. You return the sentiment, but it’s a little half-hearted now between whines. You cry out when you feel his thumb on your clit, rubbing hard. He seems oddly determined to have you orgasm before he does, perhaps to humiliate you, but it feels so good that you can hardly complain. He grunts loudly, you can tell he’s trying to goad you, but his speech is incoherent between sounds of pleasure and the slapping of skin against skin. You feel it building up and you can’t deny yourself the pleasure, you don’t try to hold back. However, he still falls apart first. His hips stutter then stop entirely and he groans loudly, you feel his seed spilling deep into you, warm ropes painting your inside. His thumb doesn’t let up its rubbing and it allows you to also reach your release. You pulse around his oversensitive cock and he gasps and whines pathetically, but continues rubbing you through it until all the aftershocks are over.

He remains propped above you, catching his breath for a while, his head hung low. You both whine slightly as he withdraws from you slowly, leaving you with a pop. He takes a shaky breath, staring at his essence that trickles out of you. You just stare at the ceiling, unsure what to do now. You feel the sofa dip as he reaches down to the floor, his chest touching yours as he lowers himself gently. He grabs his wand from his trouser pocket and props back up. He mumbles a spell, cleaning you of his essence and eliminating the chance of pregnancy. It pleases you a little that he took care of it, rather than leaving it up to you. He moves, sitting back on his haunches between your legs, lowering the hem of your nightdress to cover you back up. You stare at each other silently for a moment as he tucks himself away.

“This changes nothing between us,” he asserts, narrowing his eyes at you. You want to laugh at that, as clearly everything has just changed in some way, but you know what he means.

“Yeah, it changes nothing,” you repeat with a sigh. He glances over at the fireplace for a moment, before his eyes flick to the clock on the mantelpiece.

“Now chop chop, don’t you have that meeting with Dumbledore?” he grins. Your eyes widen and then you kick at him in frustration, realising what he’s done. He just laughs. “You better figure out a way to cover those hickeys quickly,” he smirks. You whine indignantly, burying your head in your hands.

“I’m going to kill you!”

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xoxoxo

[grimmweepers]

— ★ 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅!

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: how they go about with snatching your panties :3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: (all separate) gojo, toji, sukuna, nanami, yuuji, x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k | masterlist | byf/dni

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: fem!bodied reader, modern au, yuuji is aged up (21+) panty stealing (obv), pervert behaviour, panty sniffing, masturbation, dubcon, unprotected sex, lying, teasing, stalking (with yuuji sorta kinda), established relationship for most except yuuji, sukuna calls you ‘sweetheart’, MDNI

𝐚/𝐧: i wrote this with a raging fever so apologies if it sounds funky. had to sneak yuuji into this roster bc i feel like he would

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

— ★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

As soon as he can proudly proclaim the title of your boyfriend, wearing it like a badge of honour, he figures he’s got a right to certain perks— like getting his hands on your panties. At first, you don’t notice but then you realise that a few pairs have mysteriously vanished. Some are just your regular cotton ones but one of your favourite, sexier pairs is gone too. He knows it’s fucked up but he can’t seem to stop thinking about your pussy whenever you're not around. Gojo's seen you in every single one of them and just thinking about how they hug your curves or knowing that they’re tucked into crevices that only he’s allowed to pry on, gets him rock hard.

Now, he’s in his room, jerking off with one of your panties clamped between his teeth, the faint hint of your scent got beads of precum leaking from his tip. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, the fabric brushing against his lips as he speaks. He also has your naughtiest pair laid out on his bed, stroking himself while he imagines how you looked the last time you wore them. But he isn’t just thinking about you wearing them— he’s picturing you bending over and teasing him before he takes them off.

“God, I need you so fucking bad,” he pumps his fist faster, breath ragged as he thinks about how they’ve clung to your body, remembering the warmth that once pressed against your skin. It’s dirty and it’s wrong but the thrill of it only makes him want you more. As he nears the edge, the thought of you catching him flashes into his mind. What if you suddenly walked in, finding him with your panties between his teeth, his cock in his hand? All your possible reactions make him shiver. Maybe you’d be embarrassed, perhaps you’d scold him— or maybe you’d join him, take control, and make him pay for being such a perv. The idea makes him cum hard as your name spills out of his mouth. Collapsing onto his bed, he can’t help but give an impish grin. He’s already waiting for the next time he’ll be with you, eager to find out if you've noticed and curious to see if you'd let it slide.

— ★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“I’m takin’ these.”

Toji doesn’t even bother with an explanation. He’s letting you know straight up that he’s stealing your panties after you’ve just had sex.

“But I won’t be wearing anything on my way home—” you protest, only that makes it better for him. Knowing that you’re walking around bare and that he’s to blame makes his face twist into a wicked smirk. Going commando with the fresh memory of him still between your thighs, while he keeps a piece of you with him— it's his messed-up version of romance, so somehow, you can't even be mad.

The next time he has a boner without you around, he’s pulling your panties out, burying his face in the fabric, and breathing you in. The scent of you makes his cock twitch painfully as he wraps them around it. The softness of them rubs him just right, delicately clinging to how hard he is. As he strokes himself, he imagines you out there, unprotected, thinking about how easy it would be to slip his hands down your waistband and feel nothing between your skin and his fingers. His breaths grow heavier, his thoughts dirtier, until he’s pumping faster. He’s almost drooling at the feeling of your panties against him and his mind is already racing with thoughts of what he’s going to do to you the next time you’re with him. But there’s something that gnaws at him, something insatiable that won’t let up. Grabbing his phone, he hits the video call button, not caring that it’s late or you might be busy. He needs to see you.

“Hello?” You answer.

“You alone?” He asks with a knowing smile playing on his lips.

You sigh, “Yes…”

“Just couldn’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” he confesses.

Your silence tells him that you were intrigued, waiting to see what kind of filthy bullshit he was going to involve you in this time. With a slow tilt of his phone, he shows you everything below his waist and resumes exactly where he left off. When you spot your panties, it must have been obvious because he chuckles out of saatisfaction, "Yeah, I thought you'd like that."

As he continues, he makes sure your focus is on him, not planning to stop until you're as hot and bothered as he is.

— ★ 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

Ah, Yuuji, Yuuji, Yuuji. The guy who lives across the hall from you, who’s always had a crush on you that you never noticed.  You run into him now and then at your apartment building’s laundromat— he’s the one who waves hello or makes small talk when he has the time. And that’s usually it. But you don’t see how he’s always eyeing that single piece of underwear peeking out from your basket of clean laundry. 

He wants to take it so badly. He knows he shouldn’t. But the temptation is too much and before he can stop himself, he’s slipping it into his pocket the moment you turn around, then scurrying back to his apartment with a mix of shame and excitement. Once inside, he tosses it on the sofa, trying to ignore it, but the more he stares at it, it’s harder to resist. The good in him wonders if he heads back now, would he be able to reverse what he’s done? But images of you walking around in what he’s stolen— of the fabric pressed between your ass as you sit on him— push every humane thought out of his mind.

As if his hands have a mind of their own, he’s got his dick out in the living room, in broad daylight, just trying to get his shameful boner over with. Grabbing the panties, he brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply as he fucks his fist, “Ugh… What am I doing?” he says under his breath but something twisted about the guilt pushes him further. His pace quickens, the stolen panties clutched tightly in his other hand. Yuuji knows he’s crossed the line but the idea of going for the real thing absolutely haunts him. You live so close yet remain so blissfully unaware, which only fuels his obsession.

With a strangled groan, he finally cums and his body shakes with the intensity of it. As his post-nut clarity sets in, a wave of regret crashes over him. It makes him want to run to you and apologise but the thought dissipates when he notices how some of his cum had soiled them. He stares at the mess, a sick blend of pleasure and something else churning in his gut. He decides he’ll clean them properly, and return them to the laundromat to disguise them as you accidentally forgetting them there. And he’ll just have to live with the knowledge of you possibly wearing them again, now stained with his secret.

— ★ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

Another one who was tempted by the clean laundry. He’s been over a few times and while you’d say you’re dating, there’s no official label to it yet. You’ve slept with him once and it was divine; his gentlemanly nature hasn’t faltered since. But something brings him deep shame. He hasn’t exactly stolen your panties but when he excused himself to your bathroom on one casual evening and saw your clean ones hanging on a small rack, his thoughts went straight to his dick.

Just in and out, he thought, needing to get his business done quickly and get out. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t resist, especially when he saw the same pair from the night you both shared a bed. He remembered how he fucked you while you had them on— how he’d push them to the side while he buried himself inside you and how he dragged his entire length up and down your folds beneath the fabric, his tip poking against the material as it slipped under your panties.

In and out, he reminded himself. But the memory of you was too much. He had to quickly get rid of this boner before leaving the bathroom so he unzipped his pants and started stroking himself, eyes locked on the panties as if he could hear the gasps and moans you made on that very night. He moved faster, his hands shaky as he tried to make as little noise as possible. It was only moments ago since he’d last seen you so your face was still fresh in his mind. Perhaps there was a chance for him to come clean but how could he when you were out there innocently preparing dinner for him? 

Nanami’s grip tightened around his cock and with a final groan, he came into his hand. He initially feels a pang of guilt but asks himself if this was really more sinful than the things he’d done to you directly. He cleans himself quickly, trying to steady his breath before rejoining you. And when he returns, you don’t suspect a thing from your respectful, soon-to-be boyfriend.

— ★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

Does it really count as stealing if it was something you were going to throw away anyway? He had ripped them off during sex, stuffing them in your mouth, so by the end of it all they were deemed unwearable. After railing you into oblivion, he pocketed your panties as if they were a trophy of some sort but actually forgot about them until he got home. The lingering smell of sex was still on them, and honestly, yeah… he could go for another round of emptying his balls.

He’s already fantasizing about you being pressed against him, beating his meat while he smothers himself with your scent, and biting into the fabric just to get a bit of your taste again. He knows they’re not something you’ll miss right away but a part of him wishes you do— imagining the cogs turning in your brain and the look of surprise on your little face when you realise you never actually threw them out and how they disappeared after Sukuna had left your home. 

This got him going and he was stroking even faster now, growling at how his hands snuck under your panties only for him to rip them apart. Opening you up like a gift, he remembered how it exposed your slick folds and the wetness that stained the fabric— all caused by him. “This is all f’me, huh?” He had said before diving into you. He bucks his hips into his fist, the picture of you taking his cock making him lose all senses. Sukuna was seriously one phone call away from driving back and fucking you all over again. 

He grunts lowly as his cum splutters all over your panties, his chest heaving while looking at the mess he’s made. He’s momentarily taken aback at the amount that spurted out despite getting some release earlier in the day. Just as he’s catching his breath, his phone rings and he smirks when he sees your name flashing across the screen.

“Calling so soon? You miss me or what?” He taunts you as he picks up the phone.

“Oh cut the crap, I know what you took. Return them to me!”

“Sweetheart, you can’t even wear them anymore.”

“...”

He sighs dramatically, “Alright, alright. I’ll come, but don’t expect me to be in a rush to leave.”

“Whatever, bye.” And you hang up abruptly. 

A grin forms on his face at how you’ll react when he hands them back to you, finding them more soiled and ruined than before.

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

mdni template by @/cafekitsune and other dividers by @/chachachannah

[multifandomslxt]

Nct127 members and their favourite things during s3x

Taeil

Likes to see your body glistening with sweat after being fucked out.

One time a trail of sweat ran between your boobs and he licked it .

“You taste so fucking good baby”

Seeing his cum all over your sweaty back?>>>>>>

Johnny

That deep arch you do when it becomes too much👏🏿

Especially during backshots???

You’re killing him

Likes to see you grip the sheets as if that’ll help you Lmaoo.

“I’ll put a fucking baby in you if you keep doing that shit”

Taeyong

Something about your eyes rolling back and your body going stiff🤌🏿

Accidentally overstimulated you once and he decided it was his favourite thing in the world

“Ah fuck baby, am I too much for you?”

Yuta

He saw you drooling once and decided that it if you weren’t drooling he was performing below standard

That drooling + dick drunk combo got him fucked up

He asked you your name once after he finished and you couldn’t even make a full sentence smh.

You know he fucked you two more times.

“I wish you could see how fucked out you look right now”

Doyoung

When you call him by his nickname because you’re begging.

The power he feels smh.

He knows in that moment he made you his little bitch.

Will tease you about it and smile when he sees tears lining your eyes.

“Oh my baby wants to cum so bad huh?”

Jaehyun

Seeing his cum leaking out of your pussy.

Tell me I’m wrong 🧍🏿‍♀️

You can’t.

When you push a little and more comes out??

“Fuck baby, you’re dripping everywhere”

Uses his finger to push it back into you

Jungwoo

Your silent scream before you cum.

You might find it weird but he lives for that shit😭

Something about him fucking you so good that you lost your voice??!?

Oh he loooveeesssss it.

Sometimes he spits in your mouth 👀

“I make you feel good don’t I princess?”

Mark

When your ass and thighs jiggle.

Actually ascends during backshots.

The man can’t make out a full sentence when he sees it.

Smacks the fuck out of your ass just to see the ripple.

“God, fuck princess the view from here is insane”

Haechan

Clawing his back.

During missionary he likes to fuck slow and DEEP.

You feel that shit in your brain 😭

He likes that it burns and stings but also the fact that you clawed him because he was so good.

Wears them like a badge of honour.

Now add Eye contact and you’ve got yourself a crazy mf.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you baby..don’t you fucking hold back”

[yameoto]

dropping a spare change in ur inbox and coming to spill spoiled brat cate dunlap thoughts that have been rotting my brain ever since that bot of urs was dropped🫠

spoiled brat cate dunlap who came to the office wanting something completely different (just your attention and affection) than what you'd have in mind— unsure how she'd found herself in this situation— forced to take the custom strap she'd bought with your card, squirming in your lap when she'd highly underestimated the sheer size of the toy, trying to blink unshed tears away and unaware of the blooming marks on her skin and the few, stray workers of yours hearing the muffled screams she'd desperately tried to cover, definitely something that had her in trouble with vought.

(she doesn't regret it though, not one bit, despite waddling like a penguin and gripping onto the walls and nearby surfaces to get home)

i absolutely adore your work darling💞💞

lololove this. spoiled!brat cate dunlap whose just begginggg for it. how was she supposed to know that it was that day that you found that she'd overrun your card? on sex toys, no less. it wasn’t her fault! she’d been so horny that day. like so fucking horny. and then she’d showed up to your office, legs spread and cunt leaking all over your desk for what felt like hours until she had to find out second-hand that you were away on some urgent stuffy business trip. how could you? no wonder she comes away all huffy n puffy abt not being able to see u. miffed that you didn’t even tell her. and! she’s still horny.

of course she’d splurged a little. a girl needs to self-soothe, after all. so what if she ordered an entire set of custom straps, and then maybe a little bit of the wholeentirestore out out of spite? you’re practically made of money. it couldn’t hurt. it certainly made her feel a hell of a lot better, in more ways than one. and she thought she’d gotten away with it, too— until.

“you do know nothing slips from my sight, right?” you’re infuriatingly collected—conversational, even, as you brush the tip of the strap along cates folds. god, it looks so fucking big from here. even the act of pressing it up through her thighs makes her whimper. she’s not gonna say that though. just gonna blink up at you unapologetically, determined to keep up her bravado. chin trembling as she raises it. “you were away. needed something to keep me occupied.” she grumbles

“something to keep your cunt warm, you mean.” and you take your fingers and stretch cate’s pussy as wide as it can. cate can feel the tip tickling her cunt, and she whimpers. the air-conditioned breeze of the office hitting her wet, squelching nerves. much too big for her tight little cunt.

“what a waste of my money,” you hiss, slapping the strap against her clit. cates whole expression scrunches in effort to bite back a cry, eyes flaring in defiance.

“i can take it.” she insists, determined to win this. she’s not sorry. she’s not.

your smile is placating and condescending and it infuriates cate. you know it does. “of course you can, baby.”

“i can!” cate insists, wriggling on the desk. and what cate wants, cate gets, after all. she’s got to right to cry out like that when you tear that pretty pink pussy into two.

“ah—ah-ah-ah—fuck!” she spits, tears welling up in her eyes. making them all wet and glossy and gosh, does she look pretty like this. so does her cunt. straining against the girth of the strap. wetness squeezed out her folds already, plastic pushing hard n painful only to get a millimetre deeper. stretching her so full she can’t be stretched anymore. fucking her into the desk and calling her pussy a greedy little thing. calling her a greedy little thing. panting. whining. painting your paperwork sticky.

“this what you ordered, baby?”

cate nods dumbly, eyes rolling back and spit pooling in her mouth. red indents dug along her hipbones from the edge of your desk. (afterwards, she wears the bruises like a badge of honour. swaying her hips in too-too low-rise jeans as she waltzes into your office, flaunting each brand like it’s something to be proud of. shameless fucking brat.)

[storiesofsvu]

Fake it til You Make It

Elizabeth Donnelly x reader warnings: language, sass, smut mentioned? covers the 5+1 trope for @prentiss-theorem s bingo!

The Dilemma.

“Heard you took a plea on the Harrison case.” Liz’s sentence was spoken as she sauntered into your office, perching on the side of your desk as you finished scribbling something on the work in front of you.

“Hey now, I drove Buchanan up from the original offer before I accepted.”

“Good girl.” She praised with a wink and you laughed, “Kristen took the other SVU case, correct?”

“Yeah.” You let out a happy sigh, flipping the folder shut and leaning back in your chair.

“Means you’ve got time for an extended lunch then?”

“Only if you’re buying.” You grinned up at her and she scoffed, swatting at your shoulder while she stood from the desk.

“You want your fall bonus or not?” She teased and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed your blazer.

“Fine. I’ll pay. But it’s on you next time.”

“Seems fair.”  Liz shot you a playful smile as you scooped up you bag and followed her out of your office.

Since transferring into SVU you’d had a great relationship with Liz, even if she had been terribly intimidating for the first couple of months. Once you’d proved that you could hold your own against the detectives, that you were a whiz in the courtroom and happened to actually play by the rules, you’d shifted into her good books. Into the books that meant she liked you, that you were someone to be watched because she knew you’d go places. She took you under her wing like she did with a lot of previous A.D.A’s, her office becoming the automatic place that you went when you needed a sounding board, when you got stuck with a case, or couldn’t remember which law journal you saw a specific note in. There were evenings she’d be on her way out of the building only to find you still working away in your office and she’d bribe you out of there with the promise of dinner and drinks, first they were at local lounges, then they upgraded to her Brownstone, where she kept the good scotch.

Nights, lunches and coffee breaks that started out shooting the shit about work, spit balling court strategies based on the defence and presiding judge with Liz as your mentor shifted into ones about office gossip, the little whisperings in the hallways that everyone thought Liz didn’t hear. Then they became a way to escape work for an hour, you learnt about her past, her personal life and she heard stories about your family, friends, days back at law school. You became friends, and you took that with a large badge of honour, Liz was someone you looked up to, someone that you very much valued her opinion of you, having her call you an actual friend was the highlight of your month. She didn’t dole out that label very willingly.

It was on your slow walk back to the office from lunch that day that you paused in your words, stalling in your step as something caught your eye in the window of a shopping mall. Liz barely caught it in time to turn back, grinning at the way you tugged your lip into your mouth as you stared at the dress.

“See something you like?”

“It’s cute…” you muttered, “but I think it’s a little too fancy.”

“Hot date?” She asked and you snorted.

“Liz please, I just spent twenty minutes complaining about Tinder.” You laughed, “my sister’s engagement party is next weekend. I think the vibes are somewhere between brunch with the girlies and garden party, this could work for the wedding though….” Your head tilted for a moment and then you threw you head back and let out a groan, “fuck I hate this.”

“Weddings?”

“More so that it’s my younger sister, my much younger sister. Who has been obsessed with her wedding since she was like, six so you know it’s gonna be a huge, all out affair, no holding back on anything or any expense. I had high hopes for that last Tinder girl so all the invites I replied with a plus one and now I’ll have to suffer through it on my own. Better get ready for a million comments about how it’s lucky I’m a spinster cause there’ll be no money left for my wedding after this.”

“Oh come on.” Liz barked out a laugh, “you know a plus one doesn’t have to be a date, right? You can bring a friend. You said next weekend? Saturday or Sunday?”

“Saturday at four.” You sighed, turning away from the store and falling back into step beside her.

“Well then I guess you’re lucky Lena and I play poker on Sundays.”

“Wait..” Your head shot up to look at her, “you’ll come with me?”

“Sure, why not.” She smiled, linking her elbow with yours, “you said no expense spared and to me that sounds like an open bar and a lot of free food, who am I to say no to that and family drama?”

“Have I told you recently that you’re my favourite boss?”

“You don’t have to.” She grinned, “I already know everything.”

**

The Misunderstanding.

When Saturday rolled around you and Liz were pulling up to the Equinox Hotel at exactly four forty five. Early enough you wouldn’t be scolded for being tardy yet late enough that the rooftop terrace would be swimming with people who could distract your parents now that the party was in full swing. The terrace boasted incredible views of the Hudson River along with the rest of New York, a very well stocked bar, roaming cater waiters with various trays of food and a long table of hot food.

You were able to get to the bar without being noticed, both of you quickly downing a shot of maple whiskey, thanking the bartender for your cocktails before turning to the crowd. Liz’s eyes moved through the crowd, wondering if she was going to run into anyone she knew before she spotted her.

“Incoming.” She nodded over your shoulder, “white sundress, I’m assuming your sister. What was her name again, Jennifer?”

“Jessica.” You muttered and she chuckled at the way you chugged back half your cocktail before Jess was squealing in your ear, wrapping you in half a hug.

“Hiiii! I’m so happy you came!”

“Oh come on, you’re my sister, I wouldn’t miss it.” Smiling, you pressed a kiss to her cheek, “you look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She beamed, squeezing at your hand, “love your dress, is it new?”

“Yeah, picked it up last week.”

“Cuuuute.” Grinning she then turned to the woman beside you, “who’d you bring?”

“Jess, this is Liz, Liz, Jess.” You gestured between them, watching as they shook hands and said hello.

“Pleasure.” Liz smiled.

“It’s so nice to meet you, y/n never brings anyone to holidays.” Jess giggled, “and I love those earrings, are they Mejuri?”

Liz’s head tilted, a small grin on her lips, “she know her brands and she’s got taste.” Her eyes flicked down to her wrist, “Chopard can do no wrong when it comes to their bracelets.”

“Isn’t it stunning?” She lifted her arm up, her eyes wide, “it was a gift from Colin for tonight.” She let out another giggle, her smile getting even larger if that was possible.

“There you are!” A voice called out and your head shot up to see your parents and Colin making their way over to the small group, “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.” Your mother clicked her tongue and you let your sigh take form into a smile but before you could speak, Jess was turning around with a gasp. There were so many voices jumping back and fourth as they approached you nearly missed what came out of her mouth next, taking a second for your brain to register it.

“Mom! Come meet y/n’s girlfriend!”

Your eyes flashed wide and you barely had time to glance up to Liz before Colin let out a laugh,

“Girlfriend or sugar mommy?”

“Colin!” Jess hissed, slapping him on the arm.

“Don’t be rude.” Your mother scolded.

“She’s not—” You tried to interject but your father’s hand squeezed your shoulder.

“Sweetheart, we don’t care how you live your life as long as your happy and healthy.”

“Dad!” You tried again but suddenly Liz was squeezing at your hand gently, having completely slipped into the role of fake girlfriend as she stepped closer to you, smiling at your parents.

“I assure you; your daughter is very well taken care of with no need for anything like that. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much already.”

“And to think we haven’t.” Your mother nearly frowned in your direction, “girl certainly likes to keep her secrets. Call me Paula.” She extended her hand,

“Elizabeth.”

“Daniel.” Your dad’s turn was next, firmly shaking Liz’s hand, “how long have the two of you been together?”

“Oh, a few months give or take.” She replied with a small laugh, “you know how it is, sometimes these things are hard to put a solid date on, but we’re happy, and that’s all that really matters.” Her hand slid back into yours, giving it a soft squeeze as she grinned over at you.

“Do I dare ask how you met?” Paula asked, wincing, “because if Colin was right, you can just say a dating app or something.”

“Mom!” You nearly choked on your drink, feeling the heat creeping into your cheeks.

“No, not at all.” Elizabeth laughed, “we work together. And your daughter is one of the brightest and best lawyers we have, she’s got an incredible future ahead of her.” This time you were sure your cheeks were tinged pink, hearing Liz tell you how good of a job you did on a case always made you more proud of yourself, like you were impressing your favourite teacher in school, you knew you were on the right track.

“Well after that Ivy league education I sure hope so.” Daniel commented, glancing to you, “would hate for that to go to waste. I was beginning to think you were so married to the job you’d never find anyone.”

“Wow.” You muttered and Liz chuckled.

“Well it certainly helps being in the same field. We both know how many hours you have to clock if you want to be successful. That you’re not always going to get the time for those fancy dinner dates by candlelight, sometimes its takeout surrounded by case files in a dim lit office. Isn’t that right darling?”

“Date night is date night.” You shrugged, leaning into her embrace, “doesn’t matter where it is, we’ve gotten the balance figured out perfectly.”

“I’m so glad you’ve finally found someone.” Paula beamed.

“Mom!” Jess interjected, grabbing her hand, “Auntie Carol just got here!”

“Alright, alright.” She laughed, swatting her away before turning back to Liz, “can’t wait to see you at the wedding, we’ll have so much more time to chat. It was wonderful meeting you.”

“You too.”

Quick waves and smiles were shot through the group before your sister was dragging them off elsewhere. Letting out a quiet groan you turned back to the bar, sucking back the rest of your drink.

“I am so sorry.” You muttered.

“It’s alright.” Liz chuckled, flagging down the bartender to get you a refill before her arm loosely wrapped around your waist and she leant in, her lips nearly brushing against your temple when she spoke, “parents love me. Now relax, drink,” she slid the refilled glass into your hands, “enjoy the party with your so called girlfriend.”

Your head tilted to look up at her as your eyes narrowed, replaying the last few minutes in your brain, “you’ve done this before…”

“I need entertainment in my life somehow.” She shrugged and you laughed.

“Are you serious?”

“Why not?” She smiled back at you, “sometimes someone just wants a plus one, sometimes it’s the whole fake girlfriend thing to piss off the family or get them off your case about being single. As long as they’re a friend I really don’t mind. I enjoy getting out of the house and it’s the closest I’m going to get to a date now, I’m divorced and remarried to my job. The only time I have is for a one night event to play pretend.”

“You really are good with parents.”

“That one can be a little trickier,” she commented, sucking back on her drink, “sometimes they freak out over same sex or the age gap, you’ve got supportive ones.”

“I think it’s just gotten to the point where all they care about is that I don’t get eaten by my plethora of cats when I die alone.”

“Do you even have a cat?”

“No. I don’t even like them.”

“Then they’ve got nothing to worry about.” She smirked, “you’ll just stink up your apartment for a week until your downstairs neighbour makes a complaint.”

“Wow,” you burst out a laugh, “thanks.”

“C’mon.” She pinched at your elbow, nodding toward the buffet, “let’s get some food before all the good stuff is gone.”

**

The One with Tequila.

Night clubs were not your thing.

They hadn’t been your thing fifteen years ago when you were much more in your partying era, so they certainly weren’t your thing now that you’d matured. You preferred nights at quiet pubs or dive bars where it was acceptable to wear leggings and an oversized hoodie, even better, you preferred nights in on your couch where you had absolutely no one to impress and you could control the volume. Squeezing yourself into a tiny dress after spending half an hour on your hair and make up just didn’t seem worth it, even if there was bottle service.

You’d been genuinely surprised when Liz said she would come with you, expecting her to tap out of the more wild nights leading up to the big event, but she was there by your side in the limo, and didn’t shy away from sliding into the booth beside you once you were at the club. The bass of the music thumped through the room, coloured lights flashing on the dance floor, there was no choice but to yell over the music while your sister dolled out tequila shots. Even sitting directly next to each other you struggled to hear the other person, causing you to lean right into Liz, your lips nearly brushing the shell of her ear when you spoke. She braced herself when she leant into you, hand softly squeezing your thigh as she spoke and she didn’t bother to remove it after, her thumb brushing against your bare skin.

She laughed along with the jokes and innuendos thrown around the table, indulged in more than a few shots with the group and even shared a few of her own stories. Some of which left you wondering if they actually happened of if she was just that good at making things up. You were disappointed when she was in full support of Jess dragging you out onto the dance floor, shooting daggers at her as you disappeared into the crowd and she was left laughing at the table. She watched with a grin as you loosened up, letting the liquor flow through your veins, dancing alongside your sister and some of her friends. If she was to be completely honest, she really liked getting to see this other side of you, to know for sure that you let your hair down once in a while and weren’t completely consumed by work.

Neither of you had any concept of how long you were out dancing, but Liz knew she had finished another drink and a half by the time the rest of the group returned to the table. You collapsed down next to her with a laugh, reaching for your drink so you could guzzle it down, trying to combat how out of breath you were. Her hand found yours on the table top, fingers interlacing with yours,

“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” She teased, pressing a feather light kiss to your heated cheek and you giggled softly.

“Okay maybe it was kinda fun.”

“See?” With a grin she slid a shot glass toward you and you laughed once more, clinking the glass with her own before you threw back the shots.

“Okay!” Jess’s arm flailed over the table top, smacking at your hand, “now that mom and dad aren’t here, can you fucking tell us the truth?”

“About what?” You asked with a laugh.

“Is she—” she glanced from Liz to you and then turned fully to Liz, “are you her sugar mommy?”

“Jess!” You shrieked, “no!”

“No.” Liz chuckled, sipping at her own drink.

“I so don’t fucking believe you.”

“Why not?!” You asked with a bark of a laugh.

“Uh… she’s older than you, she’s clearly got money and taste, she’s paying your tab tonight, there’s a vibe that she’s the dominant one.”

“Jessica!” Your eyes widened in shock, “she’s my boss! That’s where that ‘vibe’ is coming from.”

“Darling I don’t think you’re helping the matter.” Liz squeezed at your hand with a chuckle before turning to her, “I can choose to spoil my girlfriend where and whenever, tonight seemed like a good opportunity.”

“Lies.” Jess’s eyes narrowed as she stared across at the two of you, “you have way too many sugar mommy vibes.”

Liz laughed, playfully shaking her head, “believe what you want, I guess.”

Luckily for you, a new song came on that made Jess let out a shriek and completely forget about the topic at hand, racing back out onto the dance floor with her friends. Liz squeezed at your wrist, sliding another shot toward you that you thanked her for, swiftly taking it before swallowing and pulling a face.

“I’m drunk.” You stated and she laughed.

“Yes you most certainly are.”

“Sorry.” You grimaced, suddenly realizing you were more intoxicated than you’d meant to get, especially being around your boss.

“No need.” She laughed, “this is the drunkest I’ve been in ages.” She reassured you with a squeeze to your hand and your moment of worry was completely gone from your brain.

“I want pizza.”

“There’s a place around the corner, c’mon.” She tugged you from the booth, the idea of hot greasy food now the only one on her mind, “let’s get out of here before they notice.”

You were incredibly thankful fifteen minutes later when you were leaving the pizza shop with fresh slices, a bottle of water tucked away in your purse, Liz’s arm slipped through yours as the two of you laughed your way through the New York streets. Truly, both of you had a pretty good time tonight, it was something neither of you would have done voluntarily, so drastically different from how you’d spend a Saturday night and that was always a nice break from life.

“I cannot believe Jess is convinced you’re a sugar mommy.” You mumbled over a bite of pizza.

“I’m just shocked your dad was so quick to accept it, he didn’t even seem surprised. Most parents get even the inkling of that type of dynamic and they lose it, thinking there’s some kind of taking advantage going on. Or their upset because they equate it to some form of prostitution, that their kid should be working for money in a real career path.”

You slowed in your steps as your head turned up to look at Liz, your brow furrowing as you took another bite of pizza.

“What?” She asked with a laugh.

“Have… you actually done that before?” You asked and Liz smirked, the lowered inhibitions thanks to the tequila letting her reveal more than she would have on another day.

“Oh come on.” She chuckled, “Casey’s wardrobe was in desperate need of an overhaul and she was raised so strictly catholic she barely understood sexuality, much less her own. I figured why not help her out with both?”

“I knew it!!” You shrieked, fully stopping in your tracks as you turned to face her on the sidewalk, “oh I absolutely knew it! But I was so fucking confused! I thought I was going crazy cause you’d only ever mentioned your ex husband.”

“Just because I married a man once doesn’t mean I’ll do it again.” She grinned, “I didn’t think I was that secretive about it, you should have caught onto at least some hints.”

“I mean I kinda did.” You laughed, “especially when it came to Casey…”

“Oh come on, we weren’t that obvious.”

“Oh, no, of course not.” You smirked, “aside from the constant eye fucking in the courthouse halls.”

“We were not that bad!” She objected, smacking your arm with a playful frown.

“Sure.” You laughed, slipping your arm back into hers as you fell into step beside her again, “just keep telling yourself that.”

Liz walked you home that night, making sure you were safely behind locked doors and promising to drink some water before bed before she flagged down a cab. Upstairs you found yourself replaying moments from the night, interactions between the two of you, stories she’d told you that all were shone in a different light now that your speculations were confirmed true. Maybe there really was a lot you didn’t actually know about when it came to Elizabeth Donnelly.

**

Caught up in the Clouds.

Weddings had never been events that caught your eye. You thought they were overpriced, overhyped, heteronormative celebrations filled with too many relatives and old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. Emotions were high, stress levels to make sure everything was perfect were through the roof and alcohol only exaggerated every single little issue.

Yet somehow you’d forgotten all of those issues as you sat in a church pew beside Liz, her fingers tangled with yours while her thumb soothed over the back of your hand. There was nothing but love and adoration flowing through the air, winding its way through the crowd of guests before wrapping the happy couple up in a perfect little bow. You had no idea that Jess and Colin were such hopeless romantics, their personally written vows bringing a misting into your eyes. And when a tear finally managed to escape the corner of your eye before you could even think about it, Liz caught it, gently wiping it away with a warm smile. You let out a breath of a laugh, your cheeks heating as you felt a little silly for tearing up at a wedding, a warmth blooming in your chest as Liz returned the small laugh, squeezing at your hand before both of you returned your gazes to the alter.

Cocktail hour got everything moving, people up out of their chairs, flitting around the room as they reconnected with friends they hadn’t seen in ages or got introduced to new ones. Liz never once left your side, her arm securely wrapped around your waist, making sure your champagne flute was never once empty and you always had her backup when trapped with relatives. She was introduced to multiple family members and friends and you swore each time she had some new, horribly romantic story about how the two of you had started dating, who asked who out, your first date, a very over the top story about a candlelit trail in Central Park, surrounded by roses the first time you exchanged I love you’s. With each anecdote (and each glass of bubbly) you could have sworn she was looking at you with more adoration than the last, and that you were returning it, happily nuzzling into her shoulder, feeling her lips press to the top of your head.

You were thankful when dinner was finally announced and you were guided to your seats, food taking focus before all attention was back on the newlyweds. The two of you had been playing into things so well, surrounded by the looming feeling of love, happiness and forever that things simply felt natural, they felt right. Everyone in the room thought you were a couple, there was no reason to not play into that. Liz’s hand gently playing with the baby hairs at the back of your neck while you listened to speeches, your hand resting on her thigh as you leant in to whisper a joke, the shared quiet laughter as your eyes sparkled.

Wrapped up in your own little bubble you even managed to get out on the dance floor, first it was bopping along to top forties, scream singing along to favourites from your younger years, indulging both the kids and the grandparents with things like the chicken dance. Then the lights dimmed, the playlist shifting to something slower and instead of stepping off the dance floor, Liz grabbed your hand, twirling you under her arm before wrapping it around your waist and pulling you close. She murmured something about it not being that easy to get away from her, that she deserved at least once dance tonight and you laughed softly,

“Never would have pegged you for the dancing type.”

“There’s plenty you don’t know about me yet” She muttered back with a grin and you playfully shook your head at her, relaxing into her embrace as you glided around the dance floor.

It was during one of those dances, held close enough to her to feel her heartbeat, where she could feel your breath on her skin when you spoke, that it felt like you were in an alternate universe. That this weird fake dating thing was actually real, that you were happily in love with the other person and looking forward to spending your future together. It was on pure instinct that you turned to kiss her cheek, only, she’d had the same instinct in the same moment, her lips landing on yours and your body tensed for the briefest second before you relaxed against her. You felt the warmth of her hand coming to cup your cheek and you let out a soft sigh into the kiss, your lips curving into a small smile as you pulled away.

Before either of you could even think about saying anything the DJ blasted an air horn, the lights flashing while they turned up brighter and he announced the bouquet toss. You got whisked away an instant later on sister duty, your task making sure the maid of honour got safely into a cab without Jess noticing, knowing she’d be pissed her MOH was belligerently drunk halfway through the night. You thought you’d be free, but then discovered Jess had spilt a few drops of red wine on her dress and they still had a handful of professional photos to get through. By the time you returned to the table where Liz was now deep in a conversation with your mother, you were carrying your shoes, the buzzed feeling from the bubbly very worn off.

“You look exhausted.” Liz greeted with a small laugh.

“I feel exhausted.” You replied.

“Well, let’s get you home.” She stood from the table, her arm winding around your waist, “I’ll call a car.”

You briefly heard something from your mother about seeing Liz again before the three of you managed to say goodnight and you finally escaped the reception. You were half asleep on Liz’s shoulder by the time the car pulled up in front of your building and she was gently nudging you awake, watching until you were safely inside before she pulled away from the curb.

**

Playing it Cool.

After the wedding it was as if everything had been some kind of fever dream, that the weird little bubble of your fake dating had been simply that. Your parents were ridiculously distracted by Jess and Colin, squealing over honeymoon photos, eager to hear any and all stories from their lavish vacation that you were finally left in silence and at peace. Your new so called girlfriend practically forgotten from their minds.

The first Monday at the office after the wedding you’d been a little apprehensive about how to act but both of you seamlessly slipped back into your appropriate roles and nothing else was said on the matter. You picked up cases, brought the perps to justice and did your job. Liz would pop up in your office just as often as before, commending you on your work, bribing you to take a break with lunch and you went about life just as it had been before, even if you now did know a little more about the other person. Months went by while things returned to normal, your usual bantering, late night gossip fests and the like.

“What?” She asked you one day, watching the way you were stabbing at your plate of pasta and you let out a huff, leaning back in your seat.

“I know I said you were free of this whole fake dating thing after the wedding but apparently Jess is the honeymoon baby type.” You risked a glance up to her, “I figured I had until Christmas and could bullshit my way around an amicable break up by then but she’s nearly seven months next week and is insisting that you come with me to the baby shower.”

“Is this one of those absolutely ridiculous garden parties covered in half pink and half blue decorations until they pop a balloon and everyone screams and cries over the reveal?” She deadpanned and you laughed.

“No. They’re not finding out the gender, this is just your run of the mill mocktails for her, cocktails for everyone else, finger foods and sandwiches and gifts while everyone weirdly demands to touch her belly.”

“Yeah, I was never one for things like that either.” She took a sip of her wine and you nearly frowned, “but I’d hate for you to have to suffer through it alone, so of course I’ll come.”

“You are a literal life saver.”

“I know.” She grinned across at you, causing you to playfully roll your eyes before she flagged down a server to settle the bill.

Four days later the two of you found yourselves in your parents back yard, a gift bag with a handful of onesies, a cute card and a wad of cash being passed off to Jess and Colin. Liz’s hand slipped into yours with ease as she chatted with your family, accepting a drink from your mother before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. You were able to avoid some of the silly games Jess had planned, escaping off to a small table in the corner with your mother as she watched your father play photographer for the day.

“Oh sweetheart I can’t wait to see you all excited when it’s your turn for this.” Paula smiled and you practically choked on your drink, barking out a laugh.

“Mom, please. Kids are on my absolute do not want list.”

“You say that now.” She chided, “I mean have you even asked Elizabeth about it?”

“Oh I do think I’m rather passed that point.” Liz replied with a chuckle, “and even if I wasn’t, I agree with her. Kids aren’t something I see in my future, I’ve got enough of a maternal role at work, wrangling all those baby prosecutors, I don’t need to come home at the end of the day to keep doing the same thing.”

“Yeah.” You sighed, swigging at your drink, “and they’re messy, and loud… and always sticky and covered in snot. Why would I want that anywhere near me? I’d much rather be able to travel, be the rich mysterious fun Aunt. Like, do I want to have to shell out millions for a chance at a good preschool, or do I want to be able to buy a yacht?” Liz laughed, squeezing at your hand.

“You’ve been hanging out with Calhoun too much.” She teased and you swatted at her arm, shaking your head.

“Well if there aren’t any grandbabies coming my way, can I at least expect a wedding?”

“Mom…” you groaned, earning a chuckle from Liz, who picked up your left hand in hers.

“You know, I have been telling her that it looks a little bland without a diamond.” She kissed the back of your hand and your mother practically burst with glee, “we should take you to get your nails done next week.”

“Liz…” You warned with a glare and she laughed softly, her gaze drifting over to the rest of the party as your mother let out a happy sigh.

It wasn’t until you were getting into the car at the end of the afternoon that it finally came up again.

“I can’t believe you.” You laughed, “here I am, trying to figure out how to fake a break up by Christmas and you go bragging to my mom about rings!”

“What can I say, I get bored, I like to meddle.”

“Clearly.” You shoved at her shoulder, “fucking shit disturber. They’re gonna be expecting a wedding next year now.”

“Oh they’ll be distracted by that thought for all of two months until that baby’s born and then the crotch goblin will be the only thing they think of for another three years, you’re fine.” She waved you off and your eyes narrowed in her direction, glaring at her.

“You owe me a new set of nails.”

**

The Italicized ‘Oh’.

Exhausted was an understatement.

After working your ass off to try and get justice for a victim who could no longer speak up for themselves you’d been torn apart, chewed up and spat out in the courtroom. You were left embarrassed, mad at yourself and the system and incredibly disappointed, all you wanted was to curl up into a ball and disappear. The only saving grace right now was that it happened to be Friday, so at least that was possible for a couple of days, hopefully everyone would forget by the time Monday rolled around.

You’d been home long enough to wipe off your make up, tug your hair up off your neck and change into sweats, flicking the tv on for some background noise while you wandered into the kitchen to see what you had in the liquor cabinet when there was a knock on the door. Your shoulders drooped as you let out a huff, padding over to the door, not totally surprised when you discovered Liz on the other side.

“Hey.” You greeted with a sigh, stepping back from the door so she could step into your apartment, following you back into the kitchen.

“It’s not like you to take off early.” She commented.

“Hmm?” You barely glanced over your shoulder, attention refocussed on deciding between wine or whiskey.

“Swung by your office, thought I’d find you there. I wanted to chat.”

“Liz, please, spare me the lecture.” You grumbled, opting for the whiskey, grabbing a glass from the cupboard.

“You had a rough go; I wasn’t going to.” She chuckled, “it’s not about work.”

“Okay.” You poured out a glass of liquor, gesturing to see if she wanted one as well before pouring out a second when she nodded slightly. “What then?”

“Well,” Liz huffed softly, feeling her heart thump in her chest, “for the better part of a year we’ve been pretending to date and I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

“Great.” You let out a sad laugh, “a terrible week, garbage day, I lose a case and now my fake girlfriend’s dumping me. You really know how to kick a girl when she’s down.” You took a swig of your drink, doing your best to keep your emotions at bay.

“Sweetheart…” She plucked the drink from your hand, “you’re not hearing me.” The glass came to rest on the counter before her finger curled under your chin, frowning at the misting in your eyes. “The part I don’t want to do anymore is the fake part.”

“What?” Your breath caught in your throat as your brow furrowed, still not totally understanding where she was going with this.

“I didn’t really realize how much I was enjoying it until there were no more excuses to get to hold your hand, somewhere along the way of pretending to be in love with you I actually started to fall.” Her thumb gently stroked across your cheek and you instinctively leant into the touch, “I went by your office to ask if I could take you to dinner, on an actual date this time. When you weren’t there I realized you were probably sulking and I didn’t like the idea of you having to do that on your own, so…” She gestured to the counter behind her and that was when you finally realized she hadn’t shown up empty handed. A take out bag with a bottle of nice wine sticking out the top sat beside a bouquet of lilies.

“Liz…” Your eyes moved between the counter and her, shaking your head in near disbelief, “I…”

“If we’re not on the same page, I’ll go.” She shrugged, “leave you to wallow in peace. I just couldn’t stay silent any longer.”

“No!” You gasped, grabbing her arm, “I… god.” You laughed, “I’ve been thinking of, and trying not to keep thinking about that fucking kiss since the wedding. I’ve been waiting for my sister to send out some stupid invitation to another ridiculous and annoying event that I’d be forced into to have some sort of excuse to play pretend again.”

“Well…” smiling she took your hands in hers, squeezing softly, “then how about we don’t pretend any longer?

“I think I’d really like that.” You murmured back, closing the gap between you as one of her hands cupped your cheek before her lips met yours in a tender kiss. You couldn’t help the grin your lips curved up into, warmth blooming through your chest at the feeling her smiling against your lips.

Breaking the kiss she smiled softly at you, her thumb stroking at your cheek before she left a feather light kiss on the tip of your nose, “now, I know you had a bad day but you need something beyond liquor for dinner. How do you feel about Thai?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Liz wrapped an arm around your waist, picking up the take out bag while you grabbed the glasses off the counter and the two of you made your way into the living room to settle on the couch. It was there that you finally let your guard down, all the walls you’d kept up to maintain the professional relationship being torn down piece by piece as you relaxed into each other. Your mood lifted as Liz recounted stupid stories to make you laugh, watching you with an adoring smile as you began to come out of your pit of disappointment, only interrupting to steal kisses or brush a piece of mussed up hair off your face.

By the end of the evening, limbs were tangled together, a blanket half tossed over the both of you while a movie played on the television. Liz’s fingers gently combed through your hair and you let out a happy hum, grabbing her free hand to leave a kiss on the back of it. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little bit silly at the entire thing, sometimes what you needed the most really was what was sitting right in front of you the entire time.

___________________

@svulife-rl l @anya-casablanca @mickey-gomez @naturalxselection @yesterdaysgone @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @alexxavicry @rainbowelshrhian @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @alcabots @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 @kdaghay @svushots @onmykneesformarvel @kalixxh @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @louderfortheback @swimmingstudentchaos891 @baubeautyandthegeek

[penny00dreadful]

Somebody To Love - Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

Looks like we're going the direction of two parts here = one chapter on AO3 so consider this your sneaky peek for chapter two! 😘

Eddie was not spiralling.

He was not.

He had not fallen into a complete self-destructive hole after his world was rocked by the sudden and out of nowhere realisation that Steve Harrington… Steve fucking Harrington, his employee, his best friend, his babysitter, his god-damn saving grace, his… his everything… was in love with him?

It hadn't...

It couldn't...

He refused to believe it.

So what if he had called the guy from the video shoot yesterday. 

So what if he had taken him back to his home and done exactly what he had planned to do to him last night, for hours.

It wasn’t like he was trying to prove anything to himself.

It wasn’t like all of these god-damn feelings, that had cropped up in the wake of that realisation, were fucking drowning him and he needed to do something about them. To make them go away, to fuck them out and all but destroy the body underneath him to make himself believe that all of this was just some crossed wires or misinterpretation or him seeing things where there wasn’t anything to be seen.

Because there couldn’t be anything.

There couldn’t be.

But Eddie was forced to recon with the fact that maybe he had been running again when he woke up the next morning and looked over to find that bruised and tender expanse of skin stretched across the back of that guy from the video shoot and fuck, he couldn’t even remember his name.

Eddie had made a rule for himself some years ago after a particularly harrowing experience to never ever sleep with someone who seemed just a little bit too eager to have him specifically again. 

And Jesus H. Christ had this guy been eager. 

It wasn’t unusual, people clamouring to get into his pants. But there was a difference in between them and the type that this guy was.

Something just a little unsettling in hindsight about how badly he wanted Eddie to mark him up. To put bruises and bite marks and handprints on him, like it was some kind of trophy to parade around. 

Look at me! Look at all these marks I got a rockstar to put into my skin!

Like, everything had been consensual on both ends, of course it had. No matter how deep Eddie would go, he would never lose himself like that. 

But it still left a bad taste in his mouth in the light of day. Like Eddie could’ve carved his name into the guys forehead and he would have said thank you. Like it would be something for him to post online or scream from the rooftops about like a badge of honour that never ended well.

Eddie slid out of his bed, being thankful not for the first time that the obscene amount of money he had now allowed him the space and budget to buy a bed big enough to fit at least four grown men easily.

And it had, a few times in the past. 

Shit.

Maybe he wasn’t as in control of everything as he’d always thought he was. Had he ever been? Had he ever had a proper handle on the amount of sex or drugs or alcohol he’d subjected his body and mind to?

Deep down he knew the answer to that. He’d known the answer to that for a very long time, he’d just never wanted to admit it to himself. 

Not before now.

He'd never had a handle on it.

Because Steve had had a handle on it for him. 

Steve had always been the one keeping him at a relatively safe level, ever since he’d come into his life all those years ago. Ever since the first time he’d had to stick his fingers down Eddie’s throat and ride with him to the hospital to get his stomach pumped. 

He’d never been allowed to get to that level again.

Jesus H. Christ Eddie was just one walking giant fucking red flag, wasn’t he? What the hell did Steve see in him?

He felt like he was walking downstairs with a cartoon cloud hanging over his head.

Eddie didn’t stop at the kitchen, just continuing on down to the basement, reaching out for his guitar like a lifeline. He curled up on the couch and picked out nonsense on the strings, letting whatever music came out of him compliment his sour mood.

Eddie didn’t know how long he stayed down there, but eventually his mood started to lift. Music was always a bit of a gift for him like that. It always managed to make him feel better.

It was only when he caught sight of a melting bright pink frappuccino sitting on the coffee table that he started to panic.

Because that meant that Steve was here. 

Of course Steve was here, Steve was always here, taking care of him and cleaning up his messes.

He realised then why he’d felt so comfortable leaving that guy alone in his house, alone in his bedroom while he hid underground like a worm.

Because he’d done it so many times before.

Because he’d always left it up to Steve to show the guys the door while Eddie fucked off to do whatever it was he decided he was doing that day, oftentimes exactly what he was doing now, brooding in his basement studio with his guitar.

He didn’t know what it was this time around but he couldn’t shake the feeling that if Steve came face to face with the guy upstairs it would be disastrous. Something would happen, something would go wrong.

Except he did know why it was different this time, of course he did. Because this time was the first time he was fully aware of Steve’s potential feelings for him and what it must do to him every time he had to go kick Eddie’s latest conquest out of the house.

He shot to his feet but only made it halfway up the stairs before the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed around the house and he froze in place.

Another creak came from up above and he shot back into action, running up the remaining steps like a bat out of hell and barrelling straight into the man himself.

“Jesus.” Steve had both of his hands on Eddie’s arms to steady him, he looked as put together as he always did but there was something about his posture that was off. He was a little too stiff, his eyes were slightly red and his face had a slight flush to it. 

He looked like he’d been crying.

Or trying desperately not to.

“What happened?” Eddie clutched back at the lapels of Steve's suit jacket in a panic and Steve himself looked momentarily bewildered at Eddie's desperation before he tried to brush it off.

“Sent the guy home,” he shrugged, “the usual.”

“Something happened, tell me.” Eddie couldn't explain it, he felt like something was slipping through his fingers and he was powerless to stop it.

Steve shook his head. “Nothing happened, Eds.”

“No, no. Something happened, Stevie. What was it? Did the guy say something to you or-”

Steve’s face shuttered, that infuriating blank mask was put back into place.

Eddie dug his fingers in. “What did he say?”

“It’s- he didn’t say anything.”

“No, Stevie, sweetheart, tell me please. Please.”

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice was firm and unwavering. He let go of Eddie’s arms and prised himself out of his grip. “Drop it, alright? It’s nothing for you to worry about. He’s left. It’s done.”

Opportunity gone, that was the only thing cycling through Eddie’s head at that moment. He’d missed something, let something pass him by but he didn’t know what.

Steve wouldn’t be argued with, when he didn’t want to talk about something the guy was a fortress and no amount of needling would get it out of him.

“Okay.” He almost whispered as Steve turned, walking further into the house without a backwards glance.

Eddie didn’t follow him, he couldn’t. If Steve wanted space to deal with whatever the fuck happened, he’d give him space. Though he did have half a mind to call up that guy and find out just what the fuck he had done to make Steve react like that.

Steve had never been outwardly riled up by anyone Eddie had slept with before, he'd always been polite smiles and gentle but firm demeanour unless whoever it was decided they could boss him around too.

Then the smile turned cutting and he became more firm than gentle but he never got upset.

Nearly the whole day had passed before he saw Steve again, hidden away somewhere in his giant house, which was very unusual for the both of them. When Eddie wasn’t touring or writing or doing whatever else he needed to do for work he and Steve were inseparable. They hung out constantly, Steve practically lived in Eddie’s biggest guest room during those times.

But when he did see Steve again, it was with a cold pit of dread settling in his stomach. Because Steve was dressed casual. Like he wasn't at work anymore. Like he was... like he was leaving.

“I think I need a vacation.” His tone was light, but forced. Like he was trying to convince the two of them it would just be a simple jaunty outing and everything was fine.

Right.

A vacation.

Right.

Steve wasn’t leaving forever. He was just taking a break.

Eddie could handle that.

He could.

Steve deserved it after all. He’d been running around after Eddie for so long, always so dedicated, always so…

He deserved a vacation. He really, honestly, truly did.

“How-” Eddie cleared his throat and wrapped his arms around himself. “How long will you be gone?”

Steve looked at him with something close to relief that Eddie wasn’t putting up a fight with him. Maybe, just maybe there was a thread of sadness underneath it all but it was so difficult to see.

“A couple of weeks. Maybe a month. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll know until I get there.”

“Oh, one of those vacations, huh?” He laughed. Or attempted to. It was pathetically flat.

“Yeah. One of those.” Steve stepped forward and enveloped Eddie in a hug, warm and solid and soft and all encompassing, like he always was. “I’m… I’m gonna try to switch off, I think. So I’ll probably be out of contact for most of it.” Eddie nodded against Steve’s neck and squeezed him around the middle as tight as he could.

He wasn’t leaving forever, he was going to come back.

He was going to come back and everything would be fine and it would all work out. 

“Where-?” Eddie shook his head. Steve wanted to get away and Eddie didn’t need to know where he was going. It would be fine. Everything would be fine. “Never mind.”

“I’ve already got my replacements lined up. They’ll be here in the morning. You’ll like them. Promise.”

Eddie pulled his head back, still comfortably settled in Steve’s arms but able to see his face now.

Close enough to kiss.

Eddie wanted to kiss.

“More than one?” He said instead.

"You're a handful." Steve smiled, a familiar, easy, mean thing. “I’ve left them a list.”

“A list?” Eddie huffed, wedging his arms in between the two of them so he could cross them over his chest before burrowing his head back into Steve’s neck. “You’ve left them a list like I’m some pedigree dog.”

“You are a pedigree dog.” Steve lifted his arm and patted him on the head, like he was petting him, like a dog, the bitch.

“I’ll miss you.” It was muffled and barely audible to Eddie’s own ears but Steve still heard it.

Of course he did.

Steve’s hand gentled, sliding to cup the back of his head. “I’ll miss you too.”

A car beeped outside and Steve finally let go, stepping back out of Eddie’s space.

Steve was leaving.

Steve was leaving now and Eddie wasn't doing anything about it. Was there anything he could do to make him stay? Anything he could do that wouldn't break the two of them?

With one hand on the front door Steve turned to look back at him. “See you in a few weeks, Eds.”

Eddie had to swallow down the golf ball in his throat and try to ignore the cavernous ache in his heart that had just sprung up to be able to respond but somehow he managed. “I’ll be waiting.”

With a small smile and two light pats on the doorframe, Steve was gone.

Eddie stood there with his arms clenched tightly around himself in his big empty rockstar foyer, in his big empty rockstar house long after the car had pulled away, long after the automatic sensor of the porch light switched off, long enough to feel the ache in his knees, his hips, his back from standing so still for so long. 

He trudged upstairs still in a haze, bypassing his bedroom and heading straight into the biggest guest room of the house.

It was always kept pristine.

Eddie had worried initially that Steve had felt unwelcome here when he’d first started using the room but then he slowly came to realise that that’s just who Steve was.

Neat and tidy.

In nearly everything he did.

Eddie slid under the covers and burrowed his head in deep, deep into the pillow that smelled of hairspray and amber cologne.

He swallowed around that fucking golf ball that was only getting higher, threatening to spill over as he pulled out his phone and dialled.

“Twinkie!” Her bright voice came through despite the late hour.

“Chrissy.” Eddie gasped out her name as his sob finally broke free, shocking himself at just how harsh it was.

“Where are you? What’s wrong? Do I need to call Steve?”

He hiccupped in a breath. “No, don’t call him. He's... I’m at home-”

“Okay, I’m on my way, honey.”

She stayed on the phone the whole drive over, they didn’t talk. He just quietly wept over the line until it went dead when her footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.

Chrissy crawled under the covers next to him without a word, just pulled him into her chest and let him cry.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @child-of-cthulhu @sweetwaterangel @anaibis @katytheinspiredworkaholic @littlewildflowerkitten

[knbposting]

reposting a meta i did under someone else's post bc people have been asking me to psychoanalyse aomine or kagami and i think nobody saw this one :( anyway @cemetery14 's original post is here!

jumping on for a second to talk about this bc it's so important to me. i'm not trying to mansplain aomine daiki here but his attitude is one of my fav parts of knb so pls excuse me if i say something obvious HSDHSDJH

just as a preface, i spoke about aomine's sense of security in the people he loves HERE, in the context of my aokaga fics. it's mostly hc because it talks about his parents whom we don't get to see in canon, but i'm fairly confident in this analysis to discuss this angle without referencing to that. i founded the parent hcs on how he acts with momoi.

SO. let's discuss aomine's relationships first and foremost. in the series, aomine refers to THREE people by their first names, and he does it exclusively when he feels comfortable and/or friendly with someone enough that they've earnt it. unlike with some of the other characters, he doesn't do it to get a rise out of anyone by assuming familiarity, and he doesn't do it to make fun.

he calls kuroko tetsu when kuroko proves that not only does he love basketball as much as he does, but that he's a good person and someone aomine feels he can trust. even when they fall out, even when aomine believes that kuroko must hate him, and he wants to hate kuroko for his naive view of basketball, he still calls him tetsu. he doesn't waver at all, not around other people, or shouting his name at the top of his lungs from the back of an arena. kuroko is tetsu. it's a badge of honour.

momoi is his childhood best friend and someone he does not believe will ever leave. she is, and has been for over ten years by the time the show starts, satsuki. in my view, he treats momoi as one would a sister, almost, because he treats her honestly pretty badly with no expectation that she's taking him seriously. he's surprised when he makes her cry (like in the rain when she's suggesting he pull out of a competition due to injury), because yeah he's calling her ugly and telling her to fuck off and all of that, but there's an unbreakable bond underlying his meanness that aomine trusts won't break. he shouldn't treat his friends like this, but i'm just trying to come at this from his perspective. he expresses his love for her quietly, but it's there.

as i said in my linked hc post, aomine does not believe that he has to do anything special in order to earn the love of those he trusts. he does not believe that their love is conditional, he does not think that it's linked to his skill or status as a prodigy. for better or for worse, he feels known by these people, and therefore, he's immature about responsibilities and regularly acts up around the people he loves. he ditches people, he shirks chores, and he genuinely does not care about annoying or bothering people.

and now we come to sakurai. aomine and sakurai have a faaascinating dynamic. they're classmates as well as teammates, but i'd love to know how they started talking. neither of them have the kind of personality to just sit next to the other bc they're in basketball club together. sakurai appears skittish, insecure, wet, pathetic, we love you sakurai but you have a reputation. and it's bullshit. sakurai's "drawback", what makes him look weak in the eyes of those around him, is in his need to please others. he takes it bitterly personally when he does something wrong, or he believes he does something wrong, quickly reducing to tears and the classic "i'm sorry! i'm sorry! i don't want to live! i deserve to die!" spiel he usually descends to. but in clutch mode, in his favourite sport, sakurai can be just as arrogant as the rest of touou. he has the confidence to make threes against strong opponents instead of just passing to the prodigal ace. he wants to score points. he isn't interested in proving himself to anyone, he already knows that he's great.

sakurai's actual personality, rather than his perceived one, is probably what draws aomine to him. i can very easily imagine that they're in a game early on, and sakurai looks like he's about to get into trouble with the opposing team who are picking on him a little. but instead of crumbling, he gives them the most disgraceful look of disrespect, and scores an amazing three. it's a moment like that which would make aomine interested, and as he pays more attention, he'd notice other things he also would like. sakurai is kind, he loves basketball, and he is not afraid of aomine. he's not afraid of his skill, however much he is impressed by it, and he doesn't see aomine is someone to prove himself to or compete with. sakurai honestly doesn't seem like he thinks about aomine much at all. which aomine would like. he's also a great cook. again, my idea is that they were eating together, and aomine is looming because he kinda wants to make friends but isn't quite sure yet, and sakurai offers him a little food. you know, like the neighbourhood cat? anyway. once he's had some, he wants to have more, and so, a friendship occurs.

sakurai's food making is one of his more beloved traits in his team, and everyone is comfortable enough with him to snatch and steal etc. like wakamatsu eating all the fucking lemons so aomine wouldn't get any. my fav team. stupid idiots. there are instances were sakurai expresses that he wishes they wouldn't (like the cursed replace novel where aomine eats all sakurai's food he made for the team during a study session to do aomine's homework, without him knowing, and when he discovers an empty fridge, he starts crying and has to be comforted), but overall his protestations are, in my opinion, coming from modesty rather than actual discomfort. sakurai is a strong enough person not to have people walk all over him, he simply doesn't mind being useful to a team he has grown to love and respect.

sakurai is the third person aomine refers to by his first name. sakurai earns this in his basketball skill, he earns it in how he stares fearlessly and disgracefully at nonbelieving opponents. the food definitely helps, but aomine wouldn't have just stolen a stranger's food. he doesn't view sakurai as weak. he doesn't bully him. wakamatsu may think that aomine is bullying him or taking advantage of him, but aomine isn't like that. he doesn't take advantage of the weak, he protects them. like the lady's bag getting snatched. like fighting haizaki when he knew his friends couldn't (not that he thinks they're weak, it's just that their hands were tied). i don't think i've seen him ever take advantage of anyone like that. he certainly takes advantage of friendships as i've mentioned above, but it feels different to me. idk maybe i'm just an aomine excuser at this point. it'll happen again.

for someone who doesn't sincerely smile much, btw, look at how he is in that scene with sakurai:

sakurai: but... this is... aomine: huh? sakurai: sorry, go ahead!

i think this dialogue is less aomine bullying his way into sakurai's bento, and more sakurai realising that the neighbourhood cat is getting more comfortable with him. would he have told him to get lost? probably not. but he doesn't move away when aomine's near, and he isn't flinching or worried about anything bad happening. if anything, his eyes closing when aomine's draped all over him shows, to me, that he's sort of accepting his fate, bc he knows aomine's not gonna do anything but take the good bits of his bento (not a bully. wakamatsu. please calm down). in fact, look at aomine's reaction when wakamatsu tries defending sakurai, whom he believes is getting kinda bullied here:

first, he checks on sakurai. look, he's fine. sakurai cries at everything, he's calm here. he hasn't overstepped any boundaries. but to me, aomine's first words being a reply to wakamatsu's claims that he should be at practise, and not about stealing food, suggests that aomine hasn't actually considered that he could be doing anything wrong enough to rile wakamatsu up this much. it has gotta be about coming to practise. he stops eating sakurai's bento and tries to leave. i think he'd probably be embarrassed by the idea that he could bully anyone. mean as he is, selfish as he is, aomine's good at heart. he'd definitely think his whole team was stupid as fuck if they believed that aomine would bully sakurai, or degrade him in any way. aomine's just showing that he's comfortable with him in the only way he tends to: by being a little shit.

phew! aomine brain dump out of the way. let's discuss haizaki more briefly because haizaki is a lot of fun, but he's not as fun to talk about as aomine.

i think it's a super interesting, deliberate choice to introduce aomine as a nuisance and then haizaki as a nuisance in a similar setting. aomine's food stealing, to me, looks like it's founded on habit and friendship. he doesn't view sakurai as weak and pathetic, and i think already by that point is calling him ryou, so they're solid friends. aomine is a definite loner and doesn't seem to want friends, but ryou is one of them. one of three, as i mentioned, whom he refers to by first name.

haizaki's entrance in the food hall is different because he doesn't have that base level of friendship with kuroko at all. from memory, he calls people by their first names and it makes them uncomfortable. that's likely why he does it. he is big on disrupting the balance of things. i know he hates the generation of miracles, i know he hates team play and friendship dynamics (likely because he finds it difficult to relate to people like that, and to forgive when someone does something that he finds annoying or weak). haizaki does prey on the weak. he's a menace to women walking around at night, he's a menace to kise in their match (his views on kise are super interesting but i don't wanna get into them now, but he does view kise as weak). and he definitely thinks kuroko's weak. it's no surprise that he targets kuroko's plate (this is all from memory so i'm hoping i'm right lmao).

haizaki's food stealing is a power play. look at what i can do, i can take what i want. you can't do shit about it. when called out for it, he says this:

(mido said fuck YOUUUUU aomine) now, i don't think this is actually haizaki believing that aomine is doing it for the same reasons he is. i don't think haizaki gives a shit, and he just sees aomine making a fuss and wants to cause trouble. (side note: aomine's i only take when i'm hungry is so funny. he's saying i'm DYING before i steal from my friends!!! that's so stupid. he's such a pain. but he's never going to say "i only steal from my best friends" because that is crazy talk, this is still aomine, whether he's 12 or whatever.)

murasakibara complains, drawing himself into haizaki's zone of interest, and then haizaki shows he doesn't give a fuck by talking only of the food. i am SURE there are translation issues to be taken into consideration, but haizaki's word choice at face value is: a) your fried chicken looks good too, b) that's mine now. essentially: the fuck are you gonna do about it? he likely doesn't view mura as weak, i think here he's just willing to fight for it. mura plays defence and haizaki loses interest.

haizaki seeks to remind them that he isn't emotionally invested in any of this shit, he just takes what he wants to because he can. it's a power play, and everyone knows it.

the fact that it's aomine putting up a fight about not stealing food is telling to how different they are. it doesn't matter that aomine thinks he only steals when he's hungry so it's alright, if he even does view it like that at all (aomine has a history of talking shit and lying sooo). aomine sets them apart by making it clear that he doesn't have any ulterior motives. haizaki is very quick to announce that he does. he isn't doing it because he has to, he's stealing and being a general menace because he wants to. and he tends to target either those he views as weak, or those he knows will fight him.

i wonder why he didn't take from akashi? i wonder whether it's a testament to nijimura's fighting skills or that haizaki didn't fight back when nijimura beat him up?

anyway. i'm so sorry i wrote an essay on your post. i love this topic obviously and i'm critically insane.

[ch4rlotte35]

The unfortunate pairing

Regulus Black x Potter oc (Elizabeth Potter)

Words: 2.2k

Chapter 1

Series masterlist

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Regulus Black has by far got to be the most infuriating person Elizabeth Potter has ever had the displeasure of meeting. The cocky bastard, who always seems to be nose deep inside his book, is currently sitting opposite her in the way too small for its purpose, prefects carriage.

She shifts in her seat when she becomes uncomfortably aware of how she is sandwiched between the two Hufflepuff fifth year prefects and tries to subtly move away from the two.

This year's Head Boy and Girl, that Elizabeth hasn't been bothered to learn the names of, are currently giving some speech about responsibility and honour which she really couldn't give two shits about at this moment in time. She really needs to get out of this room. The compartment is cramped and stuffy and Regulus Black is sat there with his fucking pristine robes, shiny prefects badge and a smug grin.

Merlin. I hate him, she thinks to herself and he glances over with that stupid smirk as if he had heard her thoughts. She wouldn’t be entirely surprised if he could.

She quickly adverts her gaze and can see Remus Lupin and Lily Evans sitting a few chairs down and gives them a small friendly wave when they make eye contact. 

She zones back into the meeting when she hears the Head Girl explain how this year Professor Dumbledore wants to encourage inter house communication in hopes that the everlasting rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin would be dialled down a few notches. So, to do so he wants the prefect pairs to be mixed.

Eliza sits up straight in her seat and joins the complaints and moans about the new, not so favourable circumstances. 

“I know you all aren’t too thrilled about this new arrangement but we both do ask for everyone's cooperation” reasons the Head Boy. She rolls her eyes and starts to glance around the room for the potential individual that she will be stuck with for the rest of the year.

The Head Girl starts with the seventh year prefects and Elizabeth rests her head down on the top of the chair waiting for her fate.

She catches that Remus is paired with the sixth year Ravenclaw girl and Lily with the Hufflepuff boy in her year. Elizabeth notices the relieved expression on her face when Lily glances over at Severus Snape, the sixth year Slytherin prefect that she used to be friends with before the incident last year when he called her a mudblood.

Elizabeth however doesn’t seem to be as lucky as Remus and Lily when it comes to the selection. Her head moves so quickly she is surprised that it did not fall off when she hears the next two names come out of the Head Girls mouth.

“Elizabeth Potter and Regulus Black”

Her heart stops.

No

No 

No

Anyone but him.

She looks at Remus in confirmation hoping that she had misheard but the sympathetic look she receives in return shoots any hope that her hearing has failed her down.

Scowling, she reluctantly turns her gaze to the devil himself to see a matching expression on his face. They make eye contact and because the two are equally as stubborn they end up having what one could only describe as a glare off for the rest of the meeting which is only broken by the sound of chairs scraping across the ground creating a headache inducing noise.

Elizabeth bolts out of her seat and heads straight towards the Head Girl but before she could even open her mouth she beats her to it.

“No I will not change your pairing”

“How did you even know that was what I was going to say?” 

“That look on your face”

“What look?” She asks, getting defensive.

“The one that says you would rather do anything else than be with Black”

“Well it’s true, I would literally prefer anything else”

“It’s not going to happen” the Head Girl responds with a look that says she is done with this conversation.

“Fine” she snaps, and with that she spins around ready to leave only to be met with Black's stupid face. “Move Black I am really not in the mood to fight right now”

"What? You think that I am thrilled with this decision?”

She doesn’t respond and just resorts to moving past him, not without hitting his shoulder with hers in passing. Eliza increases her pace when she notices that Remus is waiting for her at the entrance to the compartment with Lily.

“You alright?” He queries looking at her with caution out of the corner of his eye whilst they make their way back to their shared compartment.

“No” she responds with a defeated look. “It’s absolutely ridiculous.” Remus responds by opening up his arms to allow the younger girl to have one of his infamous hugs. Elizabeth can hear a muffled giggle from Lily through the cotton of Lupin's jumper and swats her hand out in her general direction hoping to make contact. She does. “It’s not funny Evans, he is insufferable.”

They continue to walk down the corridor of the train talking about their hopes for the new school year until Remus comes to a stop outside the self-proclaimed marauders compartment that they had called dibs on in their first year. The two say a quick goodbye to Lily and open the door, Remus stepping out of the way to let Elizabeth in first.

As the pair steps into the compartment they are greeted with the celebratory cheers from 3 out of 4 of the well known band of boys that cause havoc around Hogwarts and will probably cause Professor McGonagall to go into an early retirement. 

“Finally, we were beginning to believe that you would never return” exclaimed the ever dramatic Sirius Black.

“Yeah well this years Heads had a lot to say and Dumbledore decided he wanted to put us with prefects from different houses to promote inter house communication or some bullshit like that.” Explained Elizabeth with a small scoff.

“You’ll never guess who Lizzy got paired with” Remus says with a small amused huff when he throws himself down onto the nearest seat, stretching out his limbs with a sigh of relief thankful for the extra space compared to the claustrophobic prefects compartment.

“Who?” Peter inquired, intrigued in why the female Potter looks so pissed off and Remus on the verge of laughter.

“Sirius’s stupid brother” Elizabeth mumbles grumpily, theatrically throwing herself on the seat in between her brother and Sirius, squeezing herself in the tiny gap.

“That's some rotten luck.” James states with a comforting look on his face, giving his sister a quick loving hug before letting go and turning his attention to Remus to ask “what about Evans?”

Everyone collectively groans, dreading another year of silly love confessions and ridiculous hogsmeade invitation attempts directed to the unfortunate Lily Evans who captured Potter's attention from the minute he met her in their first year.

“Are you still on that?” Asks an exasperated Sirius Black.

“You didn’t have to witness it during the summer.” Adds the youngest Potter, “he kept on moaning about how all Lily does is ignore him or call him an arrogant toerag and then would go on about how pretty she is and how much he is in love with her.”

“Hey!” shouts James. “This will be the year, just you wait. I will get Lily Evans to say yes to being my girlfriend.”

“That's what you say every year” says Peter with a hint of amusement at his friend's antics.

“Yeah I love Lily, but if I have to hear this speech one more time I might have to rip my ears off” Remus adds.

James slumps down in his seat with a frown and Eliza fears that they may have hurt his feelings so she gives him a playful nudge and states “hey, we’re just messing with you. Anyways I think it’s adorable how you still like Evans.”

“Speak for yourself” grumbles Sirius, slouching down in his seat in a flare of dramatics, which earns him a sharp elbow in the ribs from the female Potter. SIrius lets out a giant yelp and leaps out of his seat to hide next to Remus. “Moony, Lizzy’s being mean again” he whines, which results in the werewolf rolling his eyes at his best mate's antics.

“I’m sure you’ll live.”

The group of five settle down and for the next hour they discuss many different topics ranging from how their summers went to the next prank the group of 4 are going to pull.

Elizabeth checks her watch and realises that they are going to be arriving at Hogwarts in the next half an hour so she quickly excuses herself to go and get changed into her robes. 

On her way to the nearest bathroom she passes the compartment that houses her two roommates and best friends Pandora Rosier and Emmaline Vance and gives them a wave, for the last four years it has been silently agreed that Elizabeth would spend the train ride up to hogwarts with her brother and his friends and then on the ride back to Kings cross station she would sit with her friends.

Once she makes it to the bathroom she notices that it is currently occupied so she leans up against the wall waiting for whoever is inside to finish their business.

Except it's now been 10 minutes and they are going to be at Hogsmeade station soon. Elizabeth weighs out the pros and cons and reluctantly goes to knock on the bathroom door, however when she is about to make contact the door swings open and reveals a slightly dishevelled looking Regulus Black and a pretty black haired slytherin that she isn’t quite sure she knows the name of.

“Really? You know you and your brother are more alike than you think.”

“Piss off Potter”

“Don’t be a dick, I've been waiting for ages to use the bathroom because you were too horny to wait a few more hours.”

“Careful Potter, wouldn’t want people to think you were jealous now would we?”

“In your dreams Black” she scoffs.

The pair stop their bickering when they hear an awkward cough come from behind Regulus and they both move out of the way so the girl can escape before she gets caught in the crossfire.

Elizabeth takes this as an opportunity to squeeze past the youngest Black brother but is too slow because he blocks her path and she ends up walking straight into his chest.

“What are we ten?” He doesn’t respond and just stares at her with that infuriating smug look on his face. “Get the fuck out of my way Black.”

“Make me”

This man. 

“Is your life really that boring and sad that you’ve resulted to hovering outside the ladies bathrooms. It’s pathetic really,” Elizabeth snarked. “Now if you don’t mind I would like to get changed, so you can either move or I'll make you move.”

Regulus never gets the opportunity to fight back because just as he opens his mouth to respond he is brutally shoved into the nearest wall as Elizabeth forces her way past him. He lets out a little breathless chuckle as he watches the girl walk towards the bathroom and closes the door behind her.

The boy starts to make his way back to the compartment that his two friends Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch jr are currently residing in doing God knows what and quite frankly Regulus doesn’t want to know. He gives a brief smile to Pandora as he passes her and opens the door to the compartment next to hers. Regulus is greeted with the sight of Barty sprawled across Evans lap with a book in his hand, the minister's son shoots up at the sound of the door opening with an excited grin on his face as he exclaims “Reggie! Took you long enough, we were starting to think you would never return.”

“Don’t call me Reggie, Bartemius” Regulus said with a huff as he planted himself on the seat opposite his best friends.

“What’s gotten you in such a sour mood?” 

“I’ve been paired with Potter for prefect rounds”

From where he has been sitting quietly, observing the conversation, Evan stifles a little knowing smirk at his friend's misery. 

“Oh, how tragic,” Rosier taunts looking up at Regulus with a teasing gaze.

“Fuck of Evan”

“He’s just saying what we are all thinking,” Barty adds and as if summoned by the conversation Elizabeth Potter hurries past the compartment, successfully capturing the attention of the three boys, especially the youngest Black. But what seems to be the main focus of Regulus’ attention is the fact that Remus Lupin is trailing the young girl deep in conversation with her and he catches himself thinking what the hell is he doing there. 

“Careful Reg, jealousy looks good on no one”  warns Evan.

“I’m not jealous, I'm just thinking about how I am going to be stuck with her for the rest of this miserable year.”

“Sure, tell that to the daggers you were just throwing at Lupin”  says Barty and then that is the end of the conversation as the train had finally arrived at Hogsmeade station.

And Regulus could not have been more wrong as their fifth year was anything but miserable.

[maze-of-my-design]

Tell me your favourite things about the p5 cast !!! :D

(HI THIS WAS FOR THAT ONE POSITIVITY ASK GAME SRY I FORGOT)

This got really long so it goes under the cut but people should read this may b it took like 50 mins to type out please

Ren: He literally LOVES HIS FRIENDS it's so insane like HE CAN IMAGINE MARRYONG ANY OF THEM even if it's a joke he can see himself married to his friends and he denies godhood for them and for everyone. He gets beaten up and thrown around by cops for his friends. I don't think he'd ever accept the false reality in 3rd Sem because he loves his friends so much and if he gave them agency once he will do it 100 times over.

Morgana: kitty kat :3 I like how he learns to put his ego aside throughout the story and accepts the fact that he Does need the thieves. I love the scene where he admits that the PTs are his place to belong. He's such a hardass for most of the game but really he's just a little guy. "tch, whatever, you guys are the only idiots who wanna keep me around! You'd be nothing without me. Now let's go get a celebration dinner we need refreshments"

Ryuji: HE'S SO SWEET AND KIND!!! HE LOVES HIS MOM!! HE'S A TRUE PUNK!!! he's the coolest mf the thieves have around he's legit THE reason the thieves exist in the first place. If it wasn't for him yelling out Kamoshida's codewords no one would've met eachother. He's willing to put himself on the line for his friends because he CARES he cares about everyone. He's not Ren's kind of selfless but he's his OWN kinda selfless and I love him for it.

Ann: She's literally just a girl. Just a girl in the world. She's so sweet with her friends and even if she hesitates a lil to say it out loud, she demonstrates it. She loves people so strongly that it saves them. She's headstrong and badass, and despite it all she wants to reclaim what was stolen from her. Sure, Atlus fumbled the bag with her writing, but her wish to take back her femininity and use it as her weapon? So real. Ann I love you so much

Yusuke: MY GUY!!!!!! Unironically, I love how weird he is. That's the face of a guy who is unafraid to be himself. Granted, all the thieves learn to be so, but him? He's literally called weird and eccentric, sometimes to his face, but he just keeps at it! He loves the arts, he loves the world, he is so in love with Life and the people in it he wants to capture it all on paper. He's curtsy, he's flamboyant, he's eccentric, he's weird, and he wears it all with a badge of honour. He's also so pretty like have you SEEN him

Makoto: I really like how she breaks free from those she used to please. Her awakening is one of the most cathartic of the game for this reason. Her biker outfit is fantastic for her, it's legit the coolest fucking thing. BUT ALSO! As an ex-people-pleaser myself, learning and internalizing the fact that you owe Nothing to no one at all does feel like that yk? "Makoto the sycophant is gone" is a raw fucking line for her and I love it. She isn't my favourite, but god damn it she's a certified Cool Cat

Futaba: HER. God where do I begin. Her quick wit, her intelligence, her hacking prowess. Her palace resonates with me a lot (I mean, who wouldn't in this day and age?). Being so deep in a hole that you doom yourself to die in it because you think you deserve it. But the way she handles it? Even if the thieves did part of the work (at her behest), ultimately SHE'S the one in power. SHE'S the one in control. And the way she learns that? WHEN she learns that? The whole conversation with her shadow before the bossfight is so fucking cool. The way she feels indignated, her shadow telling her to, indeed, Be Fucking Upset that these nobodies treated her like crap, validates her anger, and just. "No matter what you say to me, I will LIVE!" is probably my favourite line from the whole game hands down. It means a lot to me, Futaba herself means a lot to me, I love her, I admire her, she's so awesome

Haru: HER REBELLION!!!! The way she stands up to her dad is so amazing. I wish the game had given her the spotlight before the bossfight, but what we got was so good (if insufficient) I loved it. Important to mention, also, the fact that she uses her kindness as her weapon. Have you seen how she treats Akechi? She's respectful, curt, she's one of the first to say he should join them in the fight against Shido. She may hate him, but she remains calm. She remains kind. Akechi probably thinks she hates him and should, thus, treat him wrongly. But no, she is kind. Anyway Akechi aside I love her PT aesthetic she's fuckin ROCKING that hat with the vulture feather. I love her.

Akechi: he's so well written that as much as I want to hate him i cannot. His writing dude. He's made me cry. He's made me want to rip my screen apart. He's such a character. I love how his desire for freedom overtakes so much of the narrative. Think about it: he goes along with the Hitman business, with the murders, with shooting Okumura, with shooting his rival best friend Ren, all because he wants to be FREE. He wanted his MOTHER to be free, or whatever remained of her. He wanted to avenge her, to avenge himself, even if it meant dying he, wanted to have Something for himself. He wanted to, for the first time in years, make a Choice. A choice that Mattered. These ideals, while selfish in execution, are what makes him murder, attempt to murder, and refuse the fake reality in the third semester. Fuck being happy, he wants to be Free.

SUMIRE: oh my god. Ohhh Jesus fuck. Ohhhh. My god. Oghf god. I know I'll write a manuscript for just her but I WISH i finished royal myself. I've avoided as much dialogue as possible to get the gut punch myself on my own, I only got to the Rumi parts of Maruki's palace but that's IT. I'm starved. I need to finish Royal.

Sumire. Where do I even start. She feels so real to me...The jealousy, the self-hatred, the longing to be anybody but yourself to be liked, the admiration and clingyness towards the first person who wishes to lend you a hand (+ it becoming so strong you almost build your own self around them), the disdain towards superficial words of support, the loneliness she feels towards her emotions ("you'll never understand how I feel!"), the inferiority complex, the stubbornness to fight for a delusion you upheld for so long because of reality being so frightening to face alone. Even if Atlus fumbled the bag with her too, in all honesty, being 16 is just. Like that. I get it.

Sumire is far too kind to those who don't deserve it. But she isn't stupid, she KNOWS a bitch when she sees one and honestly? It's a crime how she didn't get to have a 1 on 1 with Maruki. Even if she's the one who sked for it, He ruined her. She deserved to be more upset with him, i don't care what anyone says.

Also, it's amazing how high her confidence can go. During her fake awakening, "Kasumi" decides she's had enough of people stepping over her, treating her like a failure. She reminds the world that "I am Kasumi Yoshizawa!" and that she's willing to fight for her place in this world. Her rebellion surges from her wish to not be shoved aside and pupettered anymore, not be treated as a gossip-target or a tool for good rep, but as a person. Sumire, on the other hand, fights to learn this herself. She fights to believe this, to drill it into herself that Sumire Yoshizawa isn't worth being forgotten about. She fights on to believe that Sumire Yoshizawa is worth more than what her brain believes.

But in the end, both versions of herself wish for the same thing: to live. To live proud, stand tall, to remind the world that Yoshizawa isn't just a pretty name on a golden trophy, a tag on a wooden toy, or the name of a science experiment. To remind all of them and herself that Sumire Yoshizawa is a name worth fighting for. And a name she won't forget ever again.

So yeah Sumire's. Cool, I guess

[chaotic-goodsir]

For the compliment drabble thing, 50 curtwen?

Thanks! Here you go - a bit shorter than the last one but once again not really a drabble 😅 I hope you like it!

*

Curt is sitting by the window of his Paris hotel room, listening to the traffic outside and trying to read over the briefing notes for tomorrow's mission. He's meant to be infiltrating some political function - something to do with the Russian ambassador and alleged mafia money. There's a lot of information in the file that's probably very important, but none of it is going in. He finds himself reading the same paragraph over and over, taking in exactly none of the words.

All he can think about is the call he got from Cynthia a few hours ago: 'Congratulations, Mega. Somehow despite your tendency for collosal fuck-ups you've managed to pass your assessment. Consider yourself a 'Special' Agent now. Just don't get too drunk celebrating - I need you at your best for this mission, understand?'

He should have been over the moon at the news. Special Agent is the highest rank you can reach without ending up behind a desk telling other people want to do. It's been Curt's ambition since he first became a spy. It's a badge of honour that means  he's good at what he does, and recognised for it.

So why does he feel like he doesn't deserve it at all?

He knows he messed up on his last mission, and that wasn't the first time either. He tends to rush things and take unnecessary risks, or end up having to bluff because he's forgotten key information. Sure, he always finds a way out of it, but he gets himself captured far too much. Not exactly the habits of a world class spy. He has no idea how he passed this assessment, really. Maybe Cynthia likes him more than she lets on, beneath all the swearing and surprise poison drills. Maybe she pulled some strings.

She'll expect more from him now, though, with that extra word in his title. He's not sure he's ready for that kind of pressure. It's making him more nervous for tomorrow than he should be, which is why it's even harder than usual to focus on the briefing. He should be out celebrating, probably, but he's left this until the last minute yet again and he doesn't have the time - and anyway, he's working alone for this one. There's no one around to celebrate with.

He's reading that same paragraph for maybe the twentieth time when there's a knock at the door. 

Quickly, he files the briefing notes away and hides them in the sideboard drawer. Cynthia gave strict instructions not to expect any visitors this evening, and to test anyone who did show up with a code phrase, so that's what he does. 

'Sorry,' he calls in French. 'I don't take room service on a Friday.'

'Ah,' replies the visitor. 'But the complimentary drinks menu is excellent, monsieur. '

Even in a second language, with almost perfect pronunciation, he recognises that voice.

He answers the door to find none other than Owen Carvour waiting in the hallway, holding a bottle of champagne.

'Félicitations, old boy.' Owen says with a smile.

'Owen? What are you doing here?' 

'Surprising you, obviously. May I come in?'

'Uh, yeah, sure.' Curt says, suddenly embarrassed by the half unpacked suitcase and clothes strewn over the bed. He hurries to pack them away, shoving the suitcase into a corner. 'I didn't know you were-' he almost says on this mission too, before catching himself. He shouldn't be giving out his reasons for being here so casually to someone from another agency, even if it is Owen. That's the kind of slip-up a Special Agent doesn't make. 'I didn't know you were in Paris.'

'Yes, well, that is how a surprise usually works.' Owen closes the door behind him, and sets the champagne down on the sideboard. 'Get dressed, love. We're going out for dinner.'

Curt blinks at him, confused. 'What? I can't. I have... work to do. Tomorrow.'

Owen grins, then pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. 'Sorry, I almost forgot. I'm to give you this - Cynthia's orders.'

Curt takes the note. It's in Cynthia's handwriting, and all it says is:

Mission's off. 

Have fun, Special Agent.

As always, don't fuck this up.

- C

Curt stares at it. Reads it again, in case he's somehow misunderstood. 'What?'

Owen laughs.

'You passed that assessment a month ago, love.'

'I- what?' Curt says again, aware that he sounds like a broken record.

'Cynthia got in touch. Said she wanted to arrange something. Not every day you graduate to Special Agent.'

'Cynthia got in touch with you?' Curt says. He should be happy to see Owen - he is happy to see him - but this is all just a bit too weird. 

'Wait. Does she know? About-'

'Us? Now, I believe her exact words were: 'I don't care what you two get up to, Carvour, just do not get caught. I will personally murder you both before I deal with that kind of scandal.''

Curt sits down on the bed, shaking his head at the note in disbelief. Then he folds the paper and tucks it into his trouser pocket, looking up at Owen.

'This is insane. Paris, a fake mission, you... why would she arrange all that for me? This has to be some kind of test. Is that champagne poisoned? Shit, you're not gonna pull a gun, are you? My bulletproof vest's in the case, I swear I was gonna-'

Owen sits down on the bed beside him, sliding an arm around his shoulder. 'Calm down, love. I may be wrong, but I believe she simply thinks you should be proud of yourself. Celebrate your promotion. It was well deserved, after all.'

'Sure, but... really?' 

'Yes, really,' Owen says, pulling him closer. 'I think so too. So, if you're done gaping like a fish, do hurry up and put something nice on. J'ai un reservation à vingt heures and I'd rather not arrive late.'

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip when I get the time.

Hey! I got tagged again. Thanks to @thequeenofthewinter, @mareenavee, @friend-of-giants, @archangelsunited and @elfinismsarts for the tags, I'll get to everyone's posts! I've been avoiding certain parts of the internet this week for my sanity so have been a bit slow getting to things <3 Anyways this week is art and writing again. I've finished 1 art, almost finished another and started one that is a little on the NSFW side, yay me. Oh and because I've been down it's obviously more Josh because that's all my brain can draw atm. Art!

Yeah, Glock!Josh is almost done and the meme is almost over! Next art is under the cut coz length lol.

And here's the most self-indulgent thing I have ever created...the safety version!

It is very self-indulgent, will be a massive pain in the ass and I can't post the full image outside of discord and pillowfort but dammit I'm going to paint this!

Now writing!

More Josh, he's gotten off the boat and is stuck in a room. What's he gonna do? Fuck with Socucius Ergalla of course! It's all dialogue so feel free to skip and just look at the art. :)

“Thank you, now on to the next question,” the Breton paused for a moment, did he expect Teldryn to interrupt him again? “Your cousin-”

“I don’t have a cousin,” Teldryn interjected, oh he was going to enjoy this.

 The Breton sighed before continuing his line of questioning, “Your cousin has given you a very embarrassing nickname and, even worse, likes to call you it in front of your friends. You asked him to stop, but he finds it very amusing to watch you blush.”

“Well, I don’t know what you Bretons like to do with your cousins but-“

“Will you shut up!” The Breton finally raised his voice at him, just the rise Teldryn was looking for.

“Of course, officer, please do continue with these very important questions,” he pointed at his right ear, “I’m all ear.”

 “Your three options are, A. Beat up your cousin, then tell him that if he ever calls you that nickname again, you will bloody him worse the next time.”

Teldryn nodded, he’d let him finish this one.

“B. Make up a story that makes your nickname a badge of honour instead of something humiliating. Or C. Make up an even more embarrassing nickname for him and use it constantly until he learns his lesson.”

“All three,” Teldryn stated before scratching his nose again.

“Choose one please,” the Breton’s tone was becoming increasingly irate.

Teldryn laughed and took a step towards the desk, sitting on its edge. His chains shook as he moved, “You see first I’d cover for myself, make that name sound all heroic in front of these friends.” He moved some of the papers to the side, earning a somewhat mortified look from the Agent. He grinned at the Breton before continuing, “Then I’d call my cousin over, wait for him to use it again and beat the shit out of him. Teach him a lesson and all that. I’ll have plenty of ammunition for an even worse name later!” He laughed to himself before standing back up and returning to his original position, “It’s fucking brilliant!”

The agent just pinched the bridge of his nose, bit his tongue, “Next question.” Teldryn would take that as a win.

“There is a lot of heated discussion at the local tavern over a group of people called 'Telepaths'. They have been hired by certain City-State kings. Rumour has it these Telepaths read a person's mind and tell their Lord whether a follower is telling the truth or not.”

Teldryn remained quiet this time, why not let him continue this one?

“What do you think of this rumour? A. This is a terrible practice. A person's thoughts are his own and no one, not even a king, has the right to make such an invasion into another human's mind.”

Well, this was an odd one, didn’t the Empire use these sorts of mages in their spy rings?

“B. Loyal followers to the king have nothing to fear from a Telepath. It is important to have a method of finding assassins and spies before it is too late.”

“What kind of bootlicking response is that?” Teldryn muttered under his breath, it earned him a stern glare from the Agent before him.

“And finally, C. in these times, it is a necessary evil. Although you do not necessarily like the idea, a Telepath could have certain advantages during a time of war or in finding someone innocent of a crime.”

“How are any of these answers options?” Teldryn shifted his weight where he stood, why was this room so hot? “Oh, I don’t know…The first option is the least stupid.”

“That is the most common response among recruit- “The Breton paused, he’d clearly misspoken, Teldryn decided to keep that bit of information for later, “amongst those being released.”

Teldryn just nodded silently, the word recruit still swimming in his mind.

“Question five, your mother sends you to the market with a list of goods to buy. After you finish you find that by mistake a shopkeeper has given you too much money back in exchange for one of the items.”

And the thought of his mother trusting him with coin and a list sent Teldryn into another laughing fit, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please continue,” This was just ridiculous!

The Breton furrowed his brow. Clearly, he was trying his best to keep his composure, “Do you A. Return to the store and give the shopkeeper his hard-earned money, explaining to him the mistake. B. Decide to put the extra money to good use and purchase items that would help your family. Or C. Pocket the extra money, knowing that shopkeepers in general tend to overcharge customers anyway.”

“Is this a trick question?” Teldryn asked, “You do know what I was arrested for? Right? It’s in that fancy notebook you’ve got there.” Teldryn pointed to the ledger that the Census and Excise Agent had closed earlier.

“It’s a hypothetical situation, now could you please answer the question without all the commentary please.”

“What do you think?” Teldryn shook his head.

“I don’t know, you need to answer the question.”

“The latter,” he looked up at the ceiling and noticed a long, thin crack in the plaster, how much longer was this going to take? He was beginning to feel restless, for a variety of reasons, he did just wander off a cramped ship after all.

The Breton took a deep breath before moving on to the next question, “While in the marketplace, you witness a thief cut a purse from a noble. Even as he does so, the noble notices and calls for the city guards. In his haste to get away, the thief drops the purse near you. Surprisingly no one seems to notice the bag of coins at your feet.”

“Oh, another trick question ha?” Teldryn moved back onto his heels, the shackles around his ankles pinching at his skin. He really wanted those things off. The old man ignored his comment.

“Do you choose option A. Pick up the bag and signal to the guard, knowing that the only honourable thing to do is return the money to its rightful owner.”

“What bullshit!”

The Breton glared at him again, “Do you B. Leave the bag there, knowing that it is better not to get involved.”

“Also bullshit and terribly stupid.”

“Or finally do you choose C. Pick up the bag and pocket it, knowing that the extra windfall will help your family in times of trouble.”

“Oh, come on officer! What kind of leading questions are these?” Teldryn watched as he scribbled something down into that ledger. Notes? Was he being assessed? Teldryn sighed, “Fine, the last one.”

“Thank you, question seven, your father sends you on a task which you loathe, cleaning the stables. On the way there, pitchfork in hand, you run into your friend from the homestead near your own. He offers to do it for you, in return for a future favour of his choosing.” He paused, glancing at Teldryn for a moment before continuing, “Do you A. Decline his offer, knowing that your father expects you to do the work, and it is better not to be in debt.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Enough commentary please,” the Breton snapped. He wrote something else down in that ledger as he continued his line of questioning, “Do you choose option B. Ask him to help you, knowing that two people can do the job faster than one, and agree to help him with one task of his choosing in the future.”

“Also stupid,” Teldryn interjected again.

“Please just let me finish,” no, this was stupid and Teldryn was adamant that he’d prove that point, “Or finally C. Accept his offer, reasoning that as long as the stables are cleaned, it matters not who does the cleaning.”

Teldryn smiled, He attempted to fold his arms but got caught in the chains, he leaned back instead, “Oh that’s easy, if the s’wit is stupid enough to want to shovel guar-shit, then he can shovel guar-shit.”

“Interesting way to put it, most ah, prisoners choose the second option,” he continued scribbling down what Teldryn assumed was his answer or a commentary on his answer, he couldn’t quite see.

“Well then, most prisoners are stupid,” Teldryn offered, he found another knot in his hair to fiddle with. It felt greasy, he didn’t like it one bit.

“Question eight, your mother asks you to help fix the stove. While you are working, a very hot pipe slips its mooring and falls towards her.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” The Breton questioned, pausing long enough to dip his stylus into the inkpot.

“I’m not helping mother with a stove! This question is stupid! Next!”

“Please, we only have two left!” the Breton’s composure slipped again as he raised his voice at Teldryn, “Now option A-“

“Next. Question.” Teldryn growled through gritted teeth, he was officially over these questions and it seemed that in this case, the Census and Excise Agent was just as willing to move on.

He flipped through a few pages, marking each as he went, the elderly man appeared to be clenching his jaw as he went, “Question nine, while in town the baker gives you a sweet roll. Delighted, you take it into an alley to enjoy only to be intercepted by a gang of three other kids your age. The leader demands the sweet roll, or else he and his friends will beat you and take it.”

“Kid sounds like a dick, if you ask me,” Teldryn interjected, really what was the point of this?

[serenailith]

don’t go where i cannot follow

for @dreamlingbingo

Square: a5, last kiss Rating: g Word Count: 756 Ship(s): dream of the endless/hob gadling Warnings: major character death Additional Tags:  end of the world, alternate universe - canon divergence, loss of anthropomorphic personification of concept Summary:

Hob thinks he should have had a warning, but when it comes to losing the love of your life, no warning would suffice.

Link: on ao3 masterlist

goes hand-in-hand with don’t let the sun go down on me

If ever in his life you’d told him that he would love a being as vast and endless as, well, an Endless, Hob Gadling would admit that it wouldn’t be his finest point but certainly not the worst ill-advised decision in his life. If you’d told him that said vast and endless Endless would love him back, he would have called you a bloody idiot and cheerfully bought you another round. He’d also have robbed you blind the moment you accepted his drink, depending on what era in his life this conversation took place, but alas, man’s nature can hardly be helped.

As it is, he does fall in love with a vast and endless Endless, and said vast and endless Endless falls in love with him, too. And no one is robbed—no one who doesn’t deserve it, anyway. Hob’s highwayman days are long past, but those skills don’t just disappear.

If asked when he first knew of his feelings for Dream of the Endless, Lord Morpheus, Prince of Stories and King of Nightmares, Hob would lie and say it was some innocuous moment. Their eyes met, and the light hit Dream’s grey-blue ones just right, and that was that. In truth, however, it was back in 1689. When his Stranger (because Hob wouldn’t know his name for another three hundred and thirty-two years) had gazed upon him at his lowest, tears in those grey-blue eyes, and Hob had seen something other than devastating pity.

No, it was sympathy in his Stranger’s eyes. Sympathy in the form of tears that wouldn’t fall and…

Pride, perhaps?

(Dream later admitted, over their first dinner together, before the relationship officially began, that he’d been more proud of Hob for wanting to live, than he’d been of any human in too long. Hob still wears that particular piece of praise as a badge of honour, despite it all.)

It takes the two of them over five hundred years to get things right, but eventually, they do. And it’s all Hob has dreamt of since 1489 when his Stranger assured him he was no Devil. Sure, he’s had to keep those certain fantasies in the back of his mind, firmly locked behind gritted teeth never to escape. Life isn’t kind to those who want differently, after all. But still, Hob spent his sleeping hours, even those caused by drink, dreaming of better knowing his Stranger.

It wasn’t until 1789 that Hob allowed himself to imagine… more than just a certain amount of domesticity, of friendship. No, after that bout in the White Horse, when Lady Johanna had rudely interrupted their centennial meeting, that’s when Hob’s dreams took a rather drastic turn. He let himself fantasise about more than just hours spent reading with his Stranger or walking along the shores. He let himself dream of a familiarity given only to those made lovers.

1889 happened, then 1989, followed by 2021, and Dream came back from his imprisonment. He came back, and they had so much fucking time together. So many years, they should have had. Uncountable. Until—until everything ended. Until Death turned the lights out and locked the universe behind her. Until there was nothing left but what was to come.

Someone should have told him. He should have had warning. Someone should have said “This will be the last year, month, week, day, hour, minute, second you will ever spend with the being you love more than you’ve ever loved yourself.” He should have been able to do better, to hold on tighter.

They should have had more, him and Dream.

If he had known then what he knows now, Hob would have tried harder to dream, to find himself within Dream’s realm once more to share in the majesty. He would have made sure their last embrace—their last touch—their last kiss—their last everything would have been better. That Dream would know that no matter what happens, Hob has loved him so deep in his bones, it feels as if it’s always been a part of him. That Dream would know that there is nowhere he goes that Hob cannot follow, but Hob can’t follow now. Hob knows not where Dream has gone.

But Dream has gone.

Now all Hob has left are the memories, and he’s not ready. He will never be ready to say goodbye to the being he will never forget, never stop loving, never see again.

Hob isn’t ready, but he still lives on.

He still has much to live for.

[dakotakazansky]

🎶let spotify predict your 2024!🎶

shuffle your on repeat playlist and the first twelve songs represent your 2024

Thank you @startrekfangirl2233 for the tag, this was really fun.

January: Villain-K/DA, Madison Beer, Kim Petras, League of Legends

Straight up villain, straight up villain Yeah, no feeling, yeah, no feeling I'm alive, but I'm dead Hear my voice up in your head Watch it fill you full of dread 'Til you go pow

February: Electric Touch(Taylor’s Version)- Taylor Swift ft. F.O.B.

I’ve got my money on things going badly, Got a history of stories ending sadly, Still hoping that the fire won’t burn me, Just one time, just one time All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life

March: I Did Something Bad-Taylor Swift

I can feel the flames on my skin Crimson red paint on my lips If a man talks shit, then I owe him nothing I don't regret it one bit, 'cause he had it coming They say I did something bad Then why's it feel so good? They say I did something bad But why's it feel so good? Most fun I ever had And I'd do it over and over and over again if I could It just felt so good, good

April: Little Girl Gone- CHINCHILLA

Wow You're so fuckin' stupid Been a while since my head was this polluted Lucky I know my own worth … Little girl gone, got a gun from a gangster Run little girl, run little girl, bang, ha Say that again, I didn't quite hear ya Messed with the wrong bitch in the wrong era I been at work and I got my badge of honour Honey, I've changed so much since I last saw you

May: Last Night-Morgan Wallen

No way it was the last night that we break up I see your tail lights in the dust You call your momma, I call your bluff In the middle of the night, pull it right back up Yeah, my, my friends say, "Let her go" Your friends say, "What the hell?" I wouldn't trade your kind of love for nothin' else

June: Heartless-The Weeknd

'Cause I'm heartless And I'm back to my ways 'cause I'm heartless All this money and this pain got me heartless Low life for life 'cause I'm heartless Said I'm heartless Tryna be a better man but I'm heartless Never be a wedding plan for the heartless Low life for life 'cause I'm heartless (heartless)

July: Monsters-All Time Low ft. Demi Lovato and blackbear

Thinking about you, you're in my head Even without you, I still feel dead Why do I run back to you, like I don't mind if you fuck up my life? Dead, thinking about you, you're in my head Even without you, I still feel dead Why do I run back to you, like I don't mind if you fuck up my life?

August: My Type(Little Attitude)-Bryce Savage

And she's an earth sign, she likes wine Got me grounded like it's worth time, so fine She likes sippin' 'til the sunrise, all night She likes energy and sunlight and good times, uh And she dress in all black, she likes that I have an arm covered in all tats, we drive fast Listen to the songs from our past on full blast Never looking back, she likes that, oh, she likes that

September: Main Attraction-Jeremy Renner

Roaming through the city like the track of time The freedom is mine Riding the lines You know how I like it, yeah Pedal to the medal, I'm your soldier We can take it for miles And let it all wild Just how I like it

October: Hate Me-Ellie Goulding, Juice WRLD

Hate me, hate me, tell me how you hate me Tell me how I'm trash and you could easily replace me Tell me that I'm strung out, wasted on the daily Prolly 'cause there's no one around me numbin' all my pain Prolly 'cause there's no umbrella to shield me from all the rain Probably because you're the one playin' the mind games You hate me because I don't let you play no mind games They give me migraines and damage my brain Date me, break me, easily replace me Hopefully you see it clear, hopefully it's HD Bet you wonder why the last few months I've been spacey In your head, I sing

November: @ my worst- blackbear

Don't try to call, do not disturb, I do not want to speak This is the end, demons are friends, angels are enemies I'm just a fool, stuck in the past, your worst memories I'm not ready for you to forget me

December: Villain Era-Bryce Savage

She's in her villain era, chapstick on with dark mascara You better send a prayer up, hoping that she'll maybe spare ya She's in her villain era, chapstick on with dark mascara You better send a prayer up, hoping that she'll maybe spare ya (Spare ya)

Well Spotify really said we gonna be in the villain era.

No Pressure Tags: @desert-fern, @horseshoegirl, @thedroneranger, @roosterforme, @sarahsmi13s, @teacupsandtopgun, @cherrycola27

[peripumpernickel]

Rachel 🤝 Jason

I really like pitting these two against each other and comparing them like specimens in a glass jar because I remember someone said on here that a lot of Rachel’s character is built on her being... well, herself, Rachel King! In other words, a goddamn queen! Clarice even calls her ‘’your majesty” albeit sarcastically. She's strict, she's brave, she's good at her fucking job and that’s an undeniable fact. She keeps things to herself but gets shit done. Everyone knows who she is. Rachel who said “Do you think it bothers me what people call me (queen bitch)? I wear that shit like a badge of fucking honour!”

Bear with me cuz this is a glorified Jason appreciation post. But they also pointed out that Jason’s character, while overshadowed a lot by his ridiculous patriotism and funny accent, he is almost if not just as intelligent and pragmatic as Rachel is. I’m pretty sure he’s the only one in game that acknowledges that Rachel is highly skilled aside from Eric, her husband, so go figure. Merwin’s sexist, Joey died too early, Nick was pretty stupid about being into her, and that was it

And someone mentioned this once in another Tumblr post abt his character analysis (but I cannot for the life of me find it), Jason was at rock bottom and worked incredibly hard to get to his position as a first lieutenant (even with fuzzy intentions), which iirc, he got promoted quicker than most people would have

For such a high rank, he undoubtedly worked his ass off. During the cutscene at the end of the game with the agents in hazmat suits, they remark how Jason was the “best of the best” as a squad leader. I’ve seen lots of people who wonder just how it took Jason to get promoted so fast, w/ such an apparently great reputation? Well.. the answer is that he’s basically a copy of Rachel lol and I mean that in the most endearing way possible

Both of them are emotionally distant, practical, good in a pinch, among other things that just liken them to each other a lot. Ok... maybe they wouldn’t be the BEST of friends... I don’t know how good their friendship would be seeing as they both take their jobs deathly seriously, but hey, you always get on well with someone who’s just like you, right???

augh I don’t know how many times I've replayed hoa and I STILL have things to say about it

[homesickhalfling]

Wait…. on that post were we saw Danny is a switch and you said you had receipts….. can we see them together…? For science of course 👀🥵 (if it isn’t too much trouble of course)

Receipts, as requested, are below this horny ass gif (just because)

Pro Sub:

Masochism quote “you went and kicked my ass! It’s ok. I asked for it, I’m a masochist.” - Farewell just before nasty habits

Delighted in the scratches on his back and blood from getting physical with the audience - Prague interview "a badge of honour" - 2001 interview "I almost got killed :D" - written interview

Calls himself a slut who willingly agrees to anything  - Concert slut - This tweet (unsure of event time/place) - "I'm a sleazy kinda guy"

Called himself a brat who likes getting a rise out of people - “I did like provoking angry responses, that did please me.” (This also lends itself to the Dom side)  - podcast at about 29:53

Often says he just wants to “turn his brain off” at the end of a composing day, what better way to do that than let someone else call the shots as they please him? - 2010 "gimme a cocktail and a rerun of Lost [or anything on TCM]" - Roundtable

- E interview

Pro Dom:

That mischievous evil smile he gives all the time, always looking up through his brows like he’s contemplating ways to torture you - I just made a post for this

Hates being disrespected but actively enjoys being disliked  - 2005 "hate it all you want but I wrote it" - link to mag rebuttle post -"you dumb fuck"

Is a good listener (interpreting directors feelings for scores) - masterclass episode 18 (can't link this) - roundtable

The bullwhip quote - this clip (which is from here where he also says the bullwhip is "like my teddy bear I suppose" interpret THAT however you like...) - gonna throw this one out there too - where he just quickly and casually mentions bondage

Threatening to spank audience members - Oingo Boingo at Magic Mountain in 1984 performing "Violent Love".

Has a big ego but knows how to keep it in check when he needs to (this also lends itself to the Sub side) - also masterclass, multiple episodes (sorry no link)

There are likely many other examples that I am not thinking of but these are what I had in mind at the time of writing this. Enjoy!