#i absolutely hated most of what happened to her in 13 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bosbas · 8 days ago

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Chapter 1: I said, "dancin' is a dangerous game"

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader WC: 2.5k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, lowkey why do i ship daphne and y/n....

Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)

May 13, 1812 - You were in Hyde Park less than ten minutes before you saw Daphne Bridgerton's figure out of the corner of your eye. Delighted that she'd joined you earlier than expected, you waved her over.

"Hello, Daph," you greeted cheerfully, scooting over so your best friend could sit beside you on the bench. "I didn't think I'd see you for a few hours, given how many gentlemen asked you to dance last night. Did none of them call?"

Daphne groaned, a scowl set deep on her face, as she took a piece of bread from your basket and broke it into chunks to feed the ducks.

"Don't remind me. Most of them called, actually," she responded. "If only Anthony had let me have three seconds with them I might have been able to discern whether or not I was actually interested. He barged into the sunroom and promptly kicked everyone out. There was not a single suitor left in the room by the time he'd finished!"

You snorted. "Ah, so the overbearing eldest brother is once again to blame."

"Isn't he always?" she responded, too annoyed to match the lightness in your tone.

You just smiled to yourself and fed the ducks silently, knowing Daphne well enough to hide your smile from her, given that she was more than likely fuming at Anthony's constant meddling. You knew he meant well, but he was known to go a bit overboard at times. Well, most times. Especially when it came to Daphne's courtships.

"Anthony's the biggest rake in Mayfair, anyway. I don't know exactly what moral high ground he thinks he's standing on but it's certainly not as sturdy as he assumes," continued Daphne, still upset over that morning's happenings.

"Is it really that bad, Daph?" you said in an attempt to console her. "At least you're not getting hordes of unpleasant men at your doorstep every day. And you know the kinds of men that frequent the ton aren't always the kind you'd want to spend your afternoons with."

"I'm not getting any men at my doorstep! That's the problem!" exclaimed Daphne, exasperated. "I know you might not share the same desires as me, but I would eventually like to get married and have a family."

"I want to find a husband, too," you insisted, your tone bordering on defensive. "I just don't particularly feel bothered to look for one during my first season."

Daphne sobered immediately, coming out of her annoyance toward her brother as she could sense you were upset. "I didn't mean it like that, I swear," she insisted, placing a hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes. "It was just-"

"I understand," you smiled at her, placing your hand over hers. "I just don't have the same urgency as you do, on account of my father having absolutely no stake in my marital status. No stake in anything about me at all, actually."

It would be a sad sentiment if you weren't used to it. You were an only child, and your mother had died after getting ill when you were only five years old. Your father, of course, was quite busy with the land he managed, and thus most of your upbringing had just been you and your governess. And the Bridgertons, of course.

You had met Daphne when she was eight and you were seven, and the two of you had gotten along splendidly since then. Since you had no real family of your own, bar your absent father, you spent copious amounts of time at the Bridgerton residence at Daphne's insistence. You now found yourself to be a semi-permanent fixture in their house, feeling just as home there as you did at your father's home.

This proximity to the Bridgertons had made you intimately familiar with Anthony's overprotective demeanor. Ever since you and Daphne were young, Anthony had gone out of his way to make sure that his siblings were cared for. Sometimes that included you, too. But unfortunately, he could take it too far sometimes.

"Did you like anyone last night, at least? Your dress was quite magnificent and I know I'm not the only one who noticed," you winked at Daphne.

She hummed thoughtfully. "I don't entirely know. I don't think one dance is enough to know whether I truly like someone," she responded, slumping down on the bench.

"Especially not when Anthony cuts the dance short halfway through," you laughed, recalling the eldest Bridgerton's attempts to thwart Daphne's search for a husband.

But your comment did nothing to lighten the mood. Instead, it seemed to make your friend even more irritated.

"It's my second year out in society! I still don't have a husband. Not even close to it, apparently," continued Daphne, aggressively tossing bits of bread into the pond.

"Well, you have to marry eventually. Anthony can't keep you away from every man for the rest of your life!" you argued.

But this did little to quell Daphne's annoyance. "He's certainly trying," she muttered.

"We can ship him off to the West Indies for the season," you joked. "Surely he won't be able to interrupt your suitors from halfway across the globe."

Suddenly, Daphne raised her eyebrows, looking at you with a devious smile.

"I was only joking! We can't actually ship him away," you laughed. "Besides, how would the ladies of the ton ever survive without the most desirable bachelor who is always just out of reach?"

Daphne snorted, amused at your dig at Anthony. "No, no, we don't have to ship him away," she said. "But you are correct in saying that I need time away from him to fully explore potential matches."

You hummed in agreement, imagining how much easier life would be for Daphne if her older brother simply... let her be. "Is he going on a hunting trip soon?" you said hopefully.

Your best friend shook her head, still smiling at you like she was plotting something.

"What is it?" you pressed, laughing at her expression.

"Can I ask you a favor?" she said, an expectant look in her eyes.

“Yes, I’ll kill Anthony for you. I’ve only been waiting for you to ask,” you joked.

“No,” Daphne laughed. “I’m serious.”

“Go on then,” you nodded.

“Could you ask him to dance at tomorrow’s ball?”

“Me? Ask him? Are you out of your mind?” you sputtered. You had never danced with Anthony at a ball, and you couldn't fathom the first time you did so being after you were the one to ask him.

“Y/N, please. I can’t just rely on forlorn glances across the ballroom to secure suitors. I need to actually speak with them, and I won’t be able to if Anthony keeps... hovering.”

Granted, hovering was a very generous word for what Anthony was really doing. But still, you looked at her, uncertainty in your eyes. You weren’t particularly keen on asking Anthony to dance, knowing he was famously opposed to marriage at this point in his life. Yes, you had grown up around him, but that didn’t mean he was interested in you at all, and you didn’t want to face that rejection if you could avoid it.

“Don’t give me that look! I promise it’ll work,” cried Daphne, desperate. “Just tell him you feel like dancing but don’t want to give another man the wrong impression since it’s only your first season and you’re still biding your time. Most of which is true.”

She made a good point. You didn’t want the hordes of men that seemed to flock to Daphne just yet. And would one dance really hurt that much?

---

The music in the ballroom pleasantly surrounded you as you stood next to Violet. Daphne had left to dance with Lord Wilson, a bachelor of very distinguished background who seemed to be hanging onto every word your best friend said.

Just as you turned to Violet to comment on how well-suited the pair looked, Anthony stormed over to where you were standing.

"It's unbelievable that she's even giving him the time of day," he said lowly, looking wholly unimpressed by the dance happening a few feet in front of him.

You could feel Anthony growing tense beside you as the seconds ticked by, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Three seconds of his sister speaking with a man and he was ready to explode already? He was worse than you thought.

You saw Daphne lean back as she laughed at something the gentleman said, and you knew you had to act fast before Anthony intervened.

“Oh, the music is wonderful tonight! Anthony, would you care for a dance?”

He tore his gaze away from his sister and looked at you, perplexed.

“Are you asking me to dance?”

“I believe I am, Anthony,” you said.

He scoffed, not quite believing you. “That is not very proper of you, Lady L/N.”

“And you are a great authority on propriety, I presume?" you said, a playful edge to your voice. "Given your… adventures as a rake, surely you have a better idea of what is proper than I do.”

Anthony choked at your bold choice of words, not used to people calling him out so publicly. “Y/N! Why do you want to dance with me then, if I'm such a rake?”

You rolled your eyes. “I just enjoy the music and want to dance. And I don’t want to give any other men the wrong impression,” you recited exactly what Daphne had told you to say.

He nodded reluctantly and took your hand. “Very well. One dance, then. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression of me either.”

This was the last time you ever did anything for Daphne. God, how difficult could one man be?

But all of your annoyance faded away once he placed his hand on your hip and spun you around. This was rather nice, you found yourself thinking. You hadn't properly danced at a ball yet, and you couldn't help but think that you'd missed out on a rather enjoyable activity.

The dance was going along quite smoothly, and you and Anthony seemed to be melting together, no longer two individuals but instead moving more like one entity. You were especially enjoying whenever his grip shifted slightly and his hand ran across the small of your back. To be truthful, you were simply having fun.

That is until you felt Anthony shifting you across the dance floor so you could get nearer to Daphne and the gentleman she was dancing with. Feeling Anthony's shoulders tense underneath your gingerly placed hands, you looked up at him.

Looking into his eyes, you raised your eyebrows. "She's fine, you know. You don't have to watch over her every second of every ball."

Anthony rolled his eyes, dismissing your comment. "Of course I do. She's my sister! I have to take care of her. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her or if she ended up betrothed to a dolt."

"Anthony," you softened your tone. "It's quite alright. It's not all up to you. You've got an entire family to keep her safe. And me, of course."

You could feel his muscles relax under your hands. "Thank you," he breathed out. "I know all of that to be true. I just worry about her. And about you! But luckily there aren't many suitors of yours to scare off."

"Oh," you said, your voice squeakier than you intended. "Thank you?" you questioned. You weren't quite sure how to take his comment.

"No!" he rushed out, immediately realizing what his words sounded like. "I didn't mean it like that. Daphne had just mentioned that you're not as interested in finding someone right now since it's your first season. And I hadn't really seen you dance with anyone at one of these balls before. And-"

"It's no trouble, Anthony," you smiled, giggling at how flustered he'd gotten. "I appreciate the concern nonetheless."

He shook his head, still not believing that he'd been so rude toward you. As much as you were a familiar face around his home, he couldn't quite tease you the way he did Daphne or any of his other sisters, and he was dreadfully embarrassed that he had made you upset, even if just for a moment.

"If you ever want to dance again, just come to me, understood?" he said, his voice turning serious. "I don't need another one of you to worry about."

You could barely contain your laughter as the music came to an end. "Yes, Anthony," you said dutifully, smiling at how silly he was being.

Looking over at Daphne, you were pleased to see that everything had gone to plan and she'd had the chance to talk to Lord Wilson the entire time you'd been with her brother. It was a relief that she'd finally gotten a normal courting experience.

Before Anthony could reach her and wrench her away from her suitor, Daphne rushed over to you, grabbing your arm excitedly.

"Shall we take a turn about the ballroom?" she suggested, leaving you no room to protest as she led you away from her mother and brother.

You laughed at her excitement, glad that your best friend was finally enjoying herself.

"Thank you so much, Y/N, truly," she gushed, squeezing your arm affectionately. "That was absolutely incredible. It's the longest time I've been able to spend with a potential match without Anthony hanging over my shoulder."

"I'm happy to do it," you said amusedly. "He was that lovely, then?"

"Oh, absolutely not," she shook her head. "Lord Wilson was dreadfully boring. But at least now I know! And I don't have to pine over him or wonder what he would be like. I know for certain I'm not interested, and I can focus on finding my true love match."

"That's wonderful, Daph," you laughed. You truly held so much affection for her. It was endearing to see her so excited over spending time with a man she didn't even like.

Suddenly, Daphne slowed her pace. Turning you around, she held both of your hands and took a deep breath. "Yes, it was. Which is why I must ask you to dance with Anthony tomorrow night as well."

"What do you mean? Ask him to dance again? I thought this was only for tonight," you sounded unconvinced. Asking her brother to dance one time had already been enough of a hassle, but having to pretend to need him to dance with you once more was looking like an insurmountable challenge.

"Please, Y/N," she begged. "It's the only way I'll find a husband that isn't someone like Nigel Berbrooke," she added, whispering the last part.

It was true, Anthony seemed to have impossibly high standards that only the most unpleasant bachelor in Mayfair seemed to be able to meet. If you could do anything to protect Daphne from that unpleasant fate, you would do it.

"I suppose I could try tomorrow night. Though I can't promise he'll want to dance with me again. Anthony seemed quite reluctant tonight," you conceded.

"Nonsense," said Daphne, rolling her eyes. "Anthony loves you dearly, I can't imagine he'd ever turn you down."

"Whatever you say," you responded, unconvinced but unwilling to dampen your best friend's chipper mood. Besides, you had a wonderful time with Anthony tonight. How could another dance possibly go wrong?

—

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whore-era · 2 years ago

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1-800-GIRLS - part 2

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!fem!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: in which ellie takes her favorite phone sex hotline operator out on their first date! ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, interactions with men, dirty talking/praise, fingering (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames, slight mention of petplay, let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: back by popular demand, and to thank you all for 1k. i love u all from the bottom of my heart. thank u all so so so much. also there will be NO PART 3! s/o to my girl @clearheartgreyflowers for staying up w me til 3am writing smut LMAO ☁︎ word count: 5,124 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 1

thursday, 1:15am → ongoing call with sir steven (ft. lauderdale, FL)

sir steven (client): thank you, sugar. did good as always, pretty lady.

sugar: no problem, sir.

sir steven (client): have a good night, darlin'. good night.

the line clicks on the other end, and you finally let out a big stretch, able to relax as you close the hotline for the night. you made 13 calls tonight, which usually wouldn't be enough to help with bills, but much to your dismay, ellie had been sending you money nonstop.

it's been a couple of weeks since you first met her in the library, and since then, you've seen each other here and there, most of your communication being made through texts and calls, as you both have been extremely busy with final exams and work. barely getting any real time to spend together besides having lunch together or walking to class when the time allows it.

however, ever since you revealed to ellie your real name and gave her your personal phone number, she's been using it to her advantage — sending you money through applepay/paypal, paying for food to get delivered to your apartment when you tell her you haven't ate that day, or getting uber's or taxis to pick you up when she wasn't able to come get you herself.

she was very persistent in being your provider, insisting that with her income, she could support you full-time and buy you everything you needed and more.

but you didn't have it in you to just quit this hotline gig. you didn't want to feel like you had to rely on ellie, and the last thing you wanted was to burden her with your own issues.

thursday, 1:30am → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

you: ellie...?

ellie: hi baby.

you: why are you calling the hotline? you have my number, silly.

ellie: what? can't check in on my girl?

you couldn't help the flush in your cheeks. ellie never failed to make you blush. she always made a point to flirt, hard, and you both weren't even in a relationship, yet.

you: what can i do for my favorite client?

ellie: hm, how does going out with me on saturday night sound?

you: like...a date?

ellie: yeah, don't you think we're a bit overdue for one?

you: sure! what should i wear?

ellie: 's up to you. you make anything look beautiful.

you hated how easily she made the heat rise to your cheeks.

ellie: are you blushing?

you: ....no.

ellie: liar. just for that, you owe me a kiss on our date.

you: hm, we'll see.

ellie: guess we will.

saturday couldn't have arrived any faster, and by the time you knew it, it was 6:00 in the evening, almost time for your first date with ellie.

you couldn't make up your mind on what to wear, trying on different outfit combinations, determining which one you think ellie would like more.

groaning in frustration, you seemingly settled on a baby blue dress, with a light and warm cardigan. the weather was absolutely perfect for this type of outfit, not too hot with just the slightest breeze.

as you touched up your makeup, swiping on your favorite gloss, you couldn't seem to calm the nerves boiling in your belly. what was there to be nervous about? you were going on a date with one of the coolest and prettiest girls you have ever seen in your life.

overthinking every possible worst-case scenario that could happen tonight, you took some deep breaths, shaking off the images of you possibly falling on your face, snorting while you laugh, or accidentally passing gas in front of ellie. oh god, if that were to happen tonight, you didn't think you could ever face her again.

you would have to change jobs. and schools.

"god, jesus, whoever, please have my back tonight," you whisper to yourself, suddenly jumping at the small 'ping' coming from your phone.

unlocking your phone, you see it's a text from ellie:

ellie <3: I'm on my way up baby, u ready?

you: yes! i'm ready hehe

you take the time to lace your shoes at the front door, giving yourself a quick one-over in the mirror to see if you were presentable, at the least.

two soft knocks on the door resonated through your apartment, and you took a deep breath as you unlocked the latch, mentally preparing yourself for tonight.

swinging the door open, you're greeted by the tall, emerald-eyed girl.

"hey, baby," she greets, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek, "you look gorgeous."

your eyes fell to the ground, cheeks flushing with crimson. get ahold of yourself. you're acting like a teenage girl with a puppy-love crush, you echoed in your mind.

"thanks, els. you look pretty cute too," you compliment shyly, looking down at her fit — a white shirt complimented with a red flannel and dark-washed jeans. of course, hair styled in her signature half-up ponytail and sporting her white and black converse sneakers.

"ready to go?"

"yeah, let's go ahead."

"cool, just parked over here in the parking lot."

taking hold of your hand, the two of you head out to the parking lot, and she takes the lead in guiding you to her car. her hands felt warm and clammy— and you wondered if ellie was feeling just as nervous as you were.

and she was.

ellie was freaking the fuck out. from the outside, you appeared calm and relaxed, which put her at unease. were you not excited to be going out with her? were you going to like what she planned for tonight? what if you absolutely hated the date she organized? it'd tear ellie's heart to pieces.

but ellie couldn't overthink, especially not right now. she couldn't let her emotions get the best of her, and she only had to think of the present — you.

ellie fished out her keys from her pocket, briefly letting go of your hand to unlock the car and open the passenger side door for you.

getting inside, you mumbled a quick 'thank you'. as ellie scurried to the driver's side of the car, you scanned your eyes around the interior of her car.

what the hell? was she driving a...dodge hellcat? you knew ellie drove, but you didn't know she drove such an expensive muscle car. how much money did she make being a dealer?

her car smelled just like her, fresh and musky, and she kept it fairly clean.

ellie piled in the driver's seat of her car, putting the key in the ignition and turned on the engine.

"soooo, where are we going?" you queried.

"that's a surprise," ellie smirks, and suddenly she places her hand behind the head of your seat, turning her neck to look at the rear windshield as she backed out of the parking spot.

you swallowed thickly, focused primarily on how hot she looked doing something as simple and elementary as reversing her car. the way her neck flexed, the way her arm tattoo looked by your face, and the way she was concentrated on moving the vehicle — suddenly turned the heat up in this confined space.

"you okay? you look a bit warm," ellie asks, interrupting your train of thought.

"huh? yeah, no, i-i'm okay," you smile meekly, "it's j-just a little warm in here."

"oh, sorry," her hands went to turn on the air conditioning, the gentle breeze of cool air providing relief, "there you go. better?"

you nod, "much better, thanks."

"wanna play some music?" she asks, holding her phone up.

"hmm, you can put whatever you want on. i wanna see what type of music you're into."

"okay," ellie says with a wide smile, "suit yourself."

approaching a stop light, ellie uses the window of opportunity to tap away on her phone, searching for her favorite song. the song 'the spins' by mac miller plays throughout the car at a mellow volume.

"great taste. i love this song," you chime.

"yeah? me too," ellie states, "i loved mac miller since like, forever."

eyes gravitating towards ellie, you couldn't help but get lost in a daze at the way she drives, the slight spread in her legs, one hand on the wheel, the stray strand of hair that falls in her face — she was dangerous.

and ellie could feel the burning gaze you were searing on the side of her face, "you okay there?"

"hmm?"

"you keep staring at me."

"oh— uh— i'm sorry. i didn't mean to—" you sputtered, ashamed that you'd been caught red-handed.

"it's fine, baby, no worries. just wanted to know if there was anything on your mind was all," ellie briefly tears her eyes away from the road to check on you.

you had to quickly think of an excuse, something to save you from this embarrassment — "just thinking of where we're going."

the girl chuckles, "well, we're already here."

the neon lights were the first thing that caught your attention, then the rapidly moving contraptions, and lastly the laughter from the crowds of people.

"we're at the carnival?!" you squealed, unable to contain your excitement.

"yea," ellie muttered sheepishly, "uh— i saw on your instagram how you shared the posts about wanting to go on your story, so i-"

you cut her off with a forceful hug, "oh my god! ellie! we have to get out now! let's go, let's go, let's go!!"

"alright, baby, let me put the car in park-" she began, but you were already halfway down the entrance.

"wow! ellie! that one was so fun! it was exhilarating!" you breathed out, fueled by the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins after riding the 'slingshot' rollercoaster.

ellie couldn't be any more amused, smiling down at you, "yeah? you liked that one, babe?"

"yes! i loved it!" you squealed, but as the adrenaline wavered, you began to feel that familiar rumble in your stomach, "it did give me an appetite, though."

"wanna get a little something to eat?" ellie's hand is securely interlaced with yours, guiding you towards the various food stands.

you nod, "mhm, i am starved."

"just tell me what you want, and i'll get it for you, m'kay?" she gives you a smile and squeezes your hand as your eyes scan the numerous items to choose from.

corndogs. cotton candy. kettle corn. pretzels. chilli cheese hot dogs. funnel cake.

"hmmm, i think i want some funnel cake," you suggest, "we can share it."

"sounds good to me," ellie shrugs and you both fall in line. she orders and pays for the sweet treat and the worker hands her the food, as you find a vacant picnic table to sit at.

digging into the crispy, creamy treat, you couldn't hold back the moan of delight that came from your mouth.

"oh my god! this is amazing!" you moan, whip cream getting all over your lips.

ellie was too busy hyper-fixating on the cream that sat on your lip, and before thinking about anything else, she swiped it off your bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, bringing it to her lips and sucking it clean.

"mmm, delicious," she commented, then consumed the dessert as if nothing had happened.

leaving you stunned, you gulped the cup of water she gave you, attempting to soothe the heat seeping down below.

"so, which ride do you wanna get on next?" ellie spooned more of the funnel cake in her mouth, looking up at you, awaiting your response.

"not sure, why don't you choose? i picked the last one after all," you clean your spoon off, getting every last bit of leftover ice cream.

"we can ride theeee..." ellie scours the carnival rides, "...the haunted hospital."

your heart fell to your stomach, you hated anything related to horror.

"oh no..ellie, i don't think i'll be able to ride that—"

"are you scared?" she taunts in a playful tone.

"yes. i'd be covering my eyes the entire time, el."

"good thing you have me with you, i'll fight anyone who gets too close to you. promise."

"fine."

when you both finish the funnel cake, you quickly discard it and ellie rushes you over to the line to the haunted attraction, but as the line goes by quicker than you anticipated, the fear began to set in deeper and deeper.

"ellie, i'm scared," you whisper as you both approach the front of the line, watching the people in front of you climb into the little mechanical car and disappear into the darkness.

"hey, i'm here, baby," she coos, rubbing your back, "besides, it's all fake, okay? 's not real."

and on cue, the attendant calls you both up, "next!"

walking slowly towards the black cart, you get on first and take a seat, with ellie following closely behind you.

"alright, hands up," the attendant commands as the handlebars latch down and lock onto your lap, "keep your hands and feet in the cart at all times. have fun."

as the cart begins to move forward and ascend into blackness, you curl into ellie's body and her arm instinctively wraps around your body, holding you tight.

this is exactly where ellie wanted you, up close and personal. she wanted an excuse to hold you all night, and after seeing the 'haunted hospital' sign, she knew this ride was the perfect place to do that.

your heart was pumping in and out of your chest, preparing for the worse to pop out and jump-scare you.

"ugh, i can't look," you stammer, covering your eyes. ellie takes hold of your wrists, gently taking them away from your face.

"hey, just focus on me, okay?" ellie whispers, her hot breath fanning in your face, "it's just me and you."

"o-okay."

and the fear that took habitat in your belly faded away, your mind zeroed in on ellie and how close she was to you. if you even breathed too hard, you probably would’ve accidentally kissed her.

but luckily for you, ellie was five steps ahead.

she reached her hand out to cup your cheek, resting it on the soft, warm skin of your face.

"can i kiss you?" ellie asked, her mouth taking over her brain, but she didn't mind it. she wanted to kiss you. she's been wanting to kiss you ever since she heard your voice that night she accidentally called you.

“please. please, kiss me.”

leaning in, ellie pressed her lips on yours, her other hand snaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. her lips were soft and inviting, and they tasted sweet — they were definitely a good distraction from the horror props popping out at different intervals.

her lips leave subtle pecks along your lips, enamored by how your lips tasted, and how it left her wanting more.

ellie pulls away, inciting a small whimper from you, “the ride’s about to end, babe.”

“hmph, okay,” you pout and ellie pecks your lips again.

“we’ll have plenty of time to continue later,” she reassures you with a laugh. as the both of you emerge into the light, back to the entrance of the attraction, you notice your lipgloss smeared all over her lips, eliciting a small giggle from you.

“what’s so funny?”

you point to her lips, and her eyes dart down to her face, using her sleeves to wipe off the pink gloss from her mouth as you both get off the ride.

you smile sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you both stroll around the carnival, “sorry, that was my fault.”

ellie smiles and shakes her head, “don’t worry ‘bout it,” she says coolly, “hey, let’s go over there. there’s no line.”

pointing to an attraction behind you, you turn around and follow her trail, your eyes settling on the ferris wheel.

hand in hand, you both get on the little capsule of the ferris wheel, the employee holding it sturdy so you and ellie would have time to climb in.

they latched the door closed and you both begin the slow, upward descent.

“wow, the view is beautiful,” you breathe out, astounded by how pretty the lights looked in the city as you towered over the area below.

“yeah, the view certainly is beautiful, huh?” ellie murmured, but she wasn’t staring at the view. her eyes were on you, taking in how breathtaking you looked in this moment — eyes glimmering in amusement, perfect, plump lips slightly parted, and hair a bit messy from the breeze, but framing your face in all the right places. she took her phone out, snapping a quick picture, never wanting to forget this moment.

she moved seats, before, sitting on the bench facing you, and now sitting right beside you.

“uh, there’s something i have to tell you,” ellie began, her nerves shocking every cell in her body.

“yea? what is it?” you ask, turning to face her, “is everything okay?”

“yeah, yeah, i just—” ellie bit her lip nervously, “i just really like you. like, i think about you all the time. when i first heard your voice that night i dialed you, i just knew i had to talk to you again. there’s just something about you that always brings me back and— fuck, i never thought i’d find myself catching feelings so hard for a girl before.”

your cheeks were hurting from how wide your smile was, but you didn’t care. ellie put her arm around your shoulder and held your hand with her free one, leaning in closer.

“what i’m trying to say is that— i really, really want to be with you. i want to be the one who you tell the weird stories about your clients to and i want to be the one to take care of you after a long day at class. i want to be the one who protects you and who you share your favorite meal with. i just— i really want you to be my girlfriend,” and before ellie continues any further, you cut her off with a kiss.

“if this is your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, the answer is yes, ellie williams,” you answer, briefly pulling away for air.

ellie’s smile grows wider, “cool,” she quirks before connecting your lips again.

the sun was long gone and the moon had taken over the night sky. but your date with ellie was far from over.

after spending an evening filled with thrill rides and greasy, fried snacks, you and ellie both decided to calm things down by taking a walk along the boardwalk, occasionally strolling up and down the pier.

“would you say this has been a good date so far?” ellie’s eyes flitter toward you, her arm slung over your shoulder as you stride down the various closed stores and restaurants of the boardwalk. it was empty, only one or two people passing by, but other than that it was only you two.

“mmm, i’d give it a…six out of ten,” you tease, gaining a scoff from your new girlfriend.

“a six? seriously?” she shakes her head, “damn, not the response i was hoping for.”

“i’m just kidding, els,” you giggle, “this date has been amazing. i loved every bit of it. thank you.”

you lean over and press a small kiss on her cheek, watching how the vermilion scatters across her freckles.

“now that’s more like it.” ellie laughs, continuing the promenade forward, with no destination in mind.

your eyes settle on this small, old-fashioned photo booth tucked away in a corner of the boardwalk. the sign above it flashing ‘PHOTOS: 4 different poses’. it was the perfect idea to end the night and have a little souvenir to remember your first date.

you let go of her hand, dashing towards the photo booth, ellie confusedly following after you. you open your bag, searching for some change, and you insert four quarters into the small coin slot.

“let's go inside,” you enthuse, excited to try out the photo booth.

ellie went inside first, taking a seat on the extremely small bench, barely leaving any space for you to sit beside her. the booth was such a tight enclosure, only allowing enough space for a maximum of two people.

“i— uh— don’t know where to—” you stammer, but she interrupts you as she grabs your hips, sitting you down on her right thigh.

warmth rose to your face, feeling secure and sturdy sat upon her leg. ellie closed the black curtain, covering the entrance and blocking any light that would shine through.

“okay, we have three minutes and four poses,” you say, turning your neck to look down at her, “what should our poses be?”

“i dunno, i’m sure we’ll look great doing any. we can jus’ do them as we go along,” ellie shrugged, and the photo booth began to count down from five.

sitting up straight in her lap and fixing your hair, you and ellie put on a smile, and the light flashes white, signaling the end of the first pose.

for the second pose, you turn your head and plant your lips on ellie’s cheek as ellie scrunches her nose up, and the flash lights up for a second time.

for the third pose, you loop your arm over ellie’s shoulder, and you both look each other in with adoring eyes and loving smiles — flash.

you both couldn’t even bother getting ready for the final pose, too lost in each other’s admiring gazes to think properly. you were focused on the jade green of ellie’s eyes, wishing you could jump in and swim in the pools of emerald. ellie was hooked on your face, and memorizing every detail like her life depended on it — tracing her eyes over your pouty lips.

and as the countdown went to one, ellie smashed her lips onto yours, her arms tightening around your waist to pull you closer. this kiss was different from the ones from before — there was urgency, there was eagerness, there was a burning passion, one you’ve never experienced before.

her tongue shoves into your mouth, tasting the mint you’ve chewed previously. immodest and perhaps, pornographic wet sounds from your mouths resonate throughout the small photobooth. one of her hands trail from your hips towards your tits, groping the soft, pillowy flesh underneath your baby blue dress, eliciting the faintest of whimpers — a sound ellie has been dying to hear again.

you couldn’t help the arousal building up in your core, compelling you to grind your crotch against the denim fabric of her jeans.

“e-ellie, i— i’ve never—” you struggle to let out, pulling away from her lips, a trail of spit lingering on your bottom lip, and her lips plant sloppy, wet kisses along the side of your neck.

“we can stop if you want, sweet girl,” she murmurs against your skin, and you quickly shake your head.

“n-no, don’t stop, p-please,” you gulp and with your approval, ellie’s other hand goes down to hike your dress up, bunching the fabric up around your waist. her hands push your legs apart, and she lifts one of your thighs up to rest on the wall of the photo booth. you were exposed, the only thing concealing your bare, pussy was the thin fabric of your panties.

she sat back against the corner of the booth, leaning against the wall and allowing you space to lean against her body as well. her hand cupped your panty-covered crotch, rubbing against it.

the sudden friction made you jolt, your breath picking up, “b-but what if— what if someone hears us? or—or sees us?”

“then you better keep it down, pup.”

ellie’s hand slips inside your panties, her index finger sliding between the warmth of your folds, drowning in the wet, hot juices leaking out from you, “fuck.”

you let out a pitiful whine, needing more pressure, craving satisfaction. the nights after that call with ellie, your own fingers no longer sufficed the needs your body demanded. you tried so hard to replicate the same feeling ellie gave you that late evening, but there was no avail as you realized the only person who can truly serve your body correctly was ellie.

“p-please, more,” you begged, hoping she would show you mercy and give you what you wanted.

“please, what? huh? use your fuckin’ manners,” she snides in your ear, breath fanning against your neck. you immediately knew what she was inferring.

“please, daddy, please. i want more,” you bucked your hips up to her hands, and she happily obliged. two of ellie’s fingers made their way to your throbbing and swollen clit, applying pressure as her digits created circles.

you couldn’t suppress the moan that emerged from your throat, clamping a hand shut over your mouth, careful not to alert any strangers nearby, knowing people would still be able to hear despite the thin, black curtain covering the photo booth.

“you look s’ fuckin’ pretty,” ellie whispers against your neck, and her hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at her as she smushes her lips against your swollen, red lips.

a stream of melodious moans vibrated against ellie’s mouth, and she was drinking it in, savoring the sound of you against her lips. the way ellie’s tongue fucked your mouth felt ungodly, and almost immoral. someone who harbors the power to make you feel how you do is something close to the devil, as pleasure this wonderful was sinful.

her fingers disappear from your clit, leaving you feeling empty.

“open.” ellie orders and you part your lips. she pushes her fingers in your mouth, and you suck them clean, your tongue lapping the salty juices like a puppy desperate for water on a hot day.

“such a good fuckin’ girl, shiiit,” ellie praises, slipping her fingers in your pussy, continuing the circles on your hardened clit.

“you know what good girls like you get? huh?” ellie’s fingers pick up speed, “they get to cum. you wanna cum for daddy, baby?”

unable to think of any response, you nod your head up and down.

“use your words, pup.”

“yes, daddy. puppy wants to cum,” you whine out. that was enough for ellie to give you what you wanted. one hand rubbing circles your clit, her other hand pushes your panties to the side and inserts one finger in your leaking hole, gently sliding it in and out.

“ellie!” you cry out, astounded by the added pressure. her finger was long and filled you up almost, completely.

“gotta stretch you out, baby. get you ready for my cock,” ellie smirks as she slowly adds in another finger, still maintaining her slow, neutral pace.

your pussy clenches around her fingers, and you scrambled around to grab ahold of anything you can get your hands on. you were drunk on ellie, the way she talks to you — almost condescending — combined with how she had you writhing under her fingers. you were unequivocally hers. you were ellie’s.

she added a third finger to your clit, applying more pressure on your sensitive clit, and her fingers began to pump faster inside your pussy, coating it in a thick, creamy layer of your juices.

“god, you’re such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” ellie kisses the side of your neck, “look at you, making a mess all over my hands, like a filthy pup.”

all your mouth would utter was these weak, pathetic whimpers and moans, fucked out dumb and stupid. you don’t even think you could remember your name right now.

the familiar feeling of your orgasm coming undone begins to rise, accompanied by a new pressure you feel in your abdomen — the urge to push.

“daddy, think m’ gonna— p—pee,” you stammer, not wanting to embarrass yourself and closing your legs, “it feels like i have to—”

“baby, let it happen. promise it’s not piss or anything,” ellie reassured, figuring this was your first time squirting. “just let go, sweet girl.”

the sweet sounds of your wet pussy echoed throughout the confined spaces of the booth, just how ellie liked it. it was music to her ears.

the feeling of your walls tightening around her fingers told her that you were just right on the edge, and she was going to give you that push to fall over and come undone all over her hands.

the pad of ellie’s fingers massaged figure eights on your pussy, almost tracing infinity signs on your clit. her fingers found rhythm and continued thrusting her index and middle fingers inside you, curling up to rub the flesh of your walls, hitting just the right spot and emitting an angelic moan from you.

ellie was in heaven and she had this honey-sweet angel melting under her touch.

you squirmed in her lap, your back instinctively arching, about to come apart in this small photo booth.

“daddy, i’m about to— can i? can i cum? pretty please?” you cried out, almost pleading, like you were begging for your life, but you felt like you were going to simply die if you didn’t finish right now.

“yes, pretty baby, cum all over me,” ellie coaxes you through your orgasm, “make a fuckin’ mess, puppy.”

you came undone, falling apart right there. your pussy clamped around her fingers, a stream of milky-white cream trickling onto her hands. your body overcame your thoughts, and you pushed out — releasing a gush of watery, squirt all over the place. spurting out, imitating a fountain.

ellie pulled her hands out of you, and brought them to her mouth, sucking and licking them clean. still coming down from the high that was your orgasm, your breaths came out heavy and unlabored, a tear falling down out of the corner of your eye and streaming down your cheek.

“you alright, babe?” ellie asked, fixing your panties and pulling your dress down.

“y-yea, i’m okay,” you stutter, standing up and exiting the photo booth, finding the boardwalk still deserted. legs still shaking, you trip over your own feet and lean on the walls of the booth for support. ellie took hold of your waist, ensuring you don’t fall.

“hey, look, our picture,” she points out, taking the strip out from the slot and showing the black and white photo to you.

ellie smiles at the strip, “we look good, huh?”

you nod, still simmering down. ellie takes notice of your state and plants a kiss to your lips, rubbing your waist soothingly.

“how ‘bout we get outta here and get some real food? sound good, baby?”

you nod, smiling, “sounds perfect.”

🫶🏼

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst

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jiminjamms · 6 months ago

Text

sex therapy :: 29. karma's a bitch

chapter tags/warnings: manipulative! naoya. naoya's anger issues continue. infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. mentions of physical violence. family drama.

word count: 3.2k

notes: my sixty-hour work weeks have been taking a huge toll on me, so i apologize for this incredibly slow update. the good news is that i cannot take this corporate america bullshit anymore and will resign in the next two months. thank you for being patient! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Naoya had never felt this humiliated in his entire life.

When people said karma was a bitch, he never thought that it would actually make its way back to him. While he was not the most righteous person in the world, he was the Zenin CEO, for god’s sake! He was the leader to a multi-billion dollar conglomerate, the heir of a centuries-old bloodline.

Yet, here he was, charging back to his apartment like an irate animal.

He startled the lobby doormen upon his loud entry, and once he returned to his penthouse, he had to will every muscle in his body not to tear apart his abode in a rampage.

In his head, his encounter with Toji looped like a broken record, fueling his chagrin.

When Naoya sought to confront his cousin for the first time in months, he thought he had been prepared. He did not expect to end up digging himself into a deep hole surpassing the world's layers due to a judgment error—a slight miscalculation.

Correction: this miscalculation was anything but 'slight' because he wildly underestimated what felt like everything. Now, he bore the consequences of his mistakes after inadvertently turning himself into a laughingstock. Because his ego was his hamartia, he had become a mere jester in a story where he was meant to be the sole hero, and thus his ill feelings burned hotter than the surface of the Sun.

As much as he hated to admit this, Naoya had been shortsighted. He should have known better. Just weeks ago, he saw a vision filled with saccharine promises of a happy, comfortable life as the most powerful man in Japan imbued with power and wealth. He had been confident—a hundred percent certain—that absolutely nothing could go wrong in the trajectory he worked hard to create. But, what the actual fuck just happened at the therapist's office?!

He did not expect his mistress to make a complete fool out of him. Her very existence was an anathema to him, and he hoped to never be in contact with that woman ever again. In hindsight, Naoya should have taken the hint a while ago. He had previously forgiven his cousin's ex-wife, dismissing her blissful but intentional ignorance. Mari had never been too keen on actual intellectual and corporate matters, for she took far more interest in the money and comfort that came with starting from the bottom and sleeping her way to the top. Despite that, Naoya trusted that she at least had half the mind to not publicly discuss their affair, only for him to be proven wrong in front of none other than...Toji Fushiguro.

"Fuck!" Naoya screamed into the void of his empty living room. His reality was a nightmare as he thought about his despised cousin again—the assured gleam in his viridescent eyes, the smug smirk that tugged across his lips. The imagery soured his mood beyond measure. "I'm going to fucking—"

He did not finish his sentence.

Instead, he kicked a nearby lamp in an angry bout, toppling the fixture over and sending tiny shards cascading across the floor accompanied by the dull thud of the shade. Whatever. His housekeeper tomorrow morning would come in and clean that.

What he instead focused on was how he had never been this infuriated, this belittled, this undignified.

The entire apartment echoed with Naoya's loud huff.

'About ‘your wife’ or whatever you want to deem her, there is not a single chance in hell that she’d ever think about calling you her husband anymore.' These words from Toji affected him more than he would have liked.

What did he mean?

That bastard is bluffing, the blonde had to tell himself, yet even he could not believe in his own consolation.

He needed to do something about this.

No, no, Naoya wasn’t scared.

He couldn’t possibly be, right?!

Yet, after he could feel his ears begin to cool and breathing start to re-regulate, he stared at the emptiness in his halls as he came to the realization that had no better choice but to talk to you.

You didn't want to be here.

The moment you read Naoya Zenin's text to meet up for a 'quick chat' at the café near his office, you already knew that the upcoming conversation was going to be anything but 'quick.' The last thing you wished to do was to be in the same vicinity as that very man again.

After spending the last few days at your family residence, you had been showered with warm attention from aunts, uncles, cousins, and even house attendants who—despite naturally wondering the reason behind your stay—welcomed your visit with open arms. To your relatives' many inquiries, you forged a pretense that all was well even if all was not. (Besides, all did seem well in your family estate, away from the incessant pandemonium that was the Tokyo city center.)

While you knew that this peaceful break was not meant to last forever, you did not anticipate returning to the capital just to sit with the Zenin CEO alone.

Naoya had specifically chosen a corner table in the Hong Kong-inspired establishment, distanced from potential eavesdroppers. He seemed to have been waiting for a while by the time you arrived, his right leg crossed over his left knee as he twiddled with his thumbs impatiently. Sprawled on the table were a freshly brewed pot of jasmine tea and a platter of warm custard pastries.

He remained quiet as you took the seat across from him, observing with a crease on his forehead and a knit to his brows.

Anyone could tell that the blonde was not the least bit happy.

"Giving me dirty looks is not going to get this conversation anywhere," you pointed out while helping yourself to a tart.

From your comment, the inverted slope on Naoya's lips twisted into a deeper frown.

He did not understand where your annoyance came from.

Fine, he never treated you nicely either, but he did not expect you to snap at him when the discussion had hardly begun. You offered him no greetings, and Naoya also took great offense at how you chose not to look at him as you talked.

Truth be told, your neglect reminded him of all the other upsetting things that he was dying to bring up, and your unpleasant attitude whittled away the little restraint he had left.

“You didn’t try to ask where I’ve been. Not one text or call. Guess it would not have mattered to you if I disappeared, huh?" he lashed out through gritted teeth. He hated being forgotten, hated being looked over, and hated how easy it was for him to prove you to be a neglectful and apathetic wife.

Which was why there was no better option than to cut him off.

“You ordered me to leave you alone, Naoya.” Only slightly did you turn your head to glance at him. Stirring sugar into your tea, you kept your attention otherwise on the nearby window and watched businesspeople scurrying about on the streets on their lunch breaks. "You can live without my attention since I'm not the only woman you have around. What happened to your lady friend? Hasn't she been entertaining you long before our marriage? I am sure she would love your company, so why not pay her an impromptu visit?”

From a slanting angle, you could tell that the transformation from your normally calm demeanor dismayed him. Naoya, not you, was typically the one to make snide comebacks, but he could not deny your latest comments. Evidently, he wanted you to go back to your submissive and passive self, but that was precisely what you no longer could be for him.

His silence prompted you to reach into your purse and retrieve a thick manila envelope, and you presented the package on the table.

Naoya's gaze snapped to the parcel.

He was curious, but cautiously so. He had invited you here, expecting to control the narrative, to dictate the terms. As a result, your unexpected move threw him off balance.

"What...?"

“Take a look and find out for yourself.”

A puzzled Naoya demonstrated no hesitation.

He snatched the folder, tearing the top open and greedily grabbing the curated pieces inside. He stared for a long time at the first item: a photo. But he recognized the image of him and his mistress, boarding a private jet for their most recent trip to Mexico. Then, he flipped through the stack rapidly, barely registering each item before he turned to the next. Some were printed-out pictures and others were cutouts from news articles, but all featured him and his paramour. The confusion on Naoya's visage slowly morphed into aggravation, and when he finished his inspection, he forcefully threw the items back onto the table.

In the end, Naoya sat back and went still, not even blinking, thinking, or doing anything but pressing his tongue along his inner cheek. "How did you get these?"

No apologies. No remorse.

Hell, based on his response, the man could not even bother to deny your accusations, a telling sign of how little he could care for his relationship with you. Obviously, you must be a joke to him.

In one firm motion, you placed down your teacup.

"You're missing the point.”

While one's eyes may be the windows to the soul, Naoya's offered nothing in his current state. His pupils looked at—no, examined you in intense dark pools despite the iridescent glow from the lights above.

"Toji gave you these, didn't he?" Naoya continued with a disdainful laugh, himself insistent on getting answers to his own questions. "You can't find this shit on the internet anymore since I've had them all taken down. But Toji's fast. He has eyes everywhere, I know he does. Look at him. Months later, and he's still hung up on reclaiming a position he should've never had the right to in the first place!"

Thankfully, you didn’t flinch from his loud voice. What you did do was become more indifferent as if you were placing a wall to separate yourself from him, mentally bracing for his emotional maelstrom.

"You are missing the point," you said once more. This time, you shook your head in disappointment, and your tone was far more frustrated than the last. "Aren't you shameless?”

"Me? Shameless?!” His brows pinched closer from fury. "Take a look at yourself, woman! What did you do to get all this dirt from Toji and his henchmen, hm? Ha! Know what? I bet it’s because you're so willing to spread yourself for them,” he rambled with a nasty sneer plastered on his expression. At his comments, your jaw fell open before snapping shut as the meaning behind his words sank in. The way this man disregarded how he had an affair (that began many months ago!) only to redirect the spotlight onto you was repulsing, implying that the sole reason the therapists talked to you was that you had slept around. “A whore like you love taking all them all, don’t you? Well? Well? Am I right? Goddamn, you’re such a—”

The harsh scraping from your chair as you stood was what finally interrupted him. Unable to tolerate his vilification, you counteracted his anger with the venom in your rancorous glare.

"How dare you talk about me like that!”

In the meantime, prying eyes started to turn in your direction from the commotion: teenage girls, sharing nervous glances across their table; a lone businessman, stopping mid-sip from his cappuccino; even the barista, pausing mid-grind such that her arm froze inches from the hopper.

"That man...doesn't he seem familiar?" a distant voice asked.

"Is he a celebrity or something?"

"No, wait. He's the person on the cover of last month's Fortune magazine. Naoya Zenin!" another replied.

"Isn't that lady his wife?"

While the onlookers' curious glances turned into full-on stares, their regard steeled your resolve rather than bothered you. Instead, you wanted the crowd to take in the spectacle. Corrupt tricks and dirty money had long painted the Zenin heir as 'the most perfect man in Japan,' and the public deserved to understand the fraudulence and cruelty that underlaid his facade.

"For months, I trusted you. I respected you. I put aside the harrowing loneliness weighing on my heart all because I tried to understand you. You told me that finding the time or energy for our marriage was not easy because board meetings kept you late in the office or business meetings required you to spend several nights abroad. Fine! So, I had been patient. But," and your voice overflowed from anger as you pointed a shaking finger at the pictures on the table, "Taking another woman to Michelin restaurants for dinners? Spending nights with her at Ritz-Carltons and Four Seasons? Going on entire vacations with her across the Pacific? All while you had a wife at home? Are you out of your fucking mind ?!"

The man's nose flared with deep-seated rage, his eyes mirroring the same bitterness in yours. "At the end of the day," he began sternly, "we're still married."

Ridiculous.

“On paper, ” you had to clarify. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be cheating on me with your older cousin's ex-wife."

Immediately, louder murmurs rippled through the crowd. Naoya turned stiff, uncomfortable with the attention. So much for selecting a quiet corner in the café. He wasn’t stupid enough to sense that he had to be careful. Saying one wrong phrase would condemn him to a public meltdown.

However, you were already steps ahead of him when you loudly declared: “I’m filing for a divorce.”

That caught him off guard.

Your announcement even drew audible astonishment from bystanders as they stopped their meals, turning to each other and drawing out their phones.

In literal milliseconds, the vexation once riddling Naoya's demeanor shifted into denial.

“No. We’re not going to talk about a fucking divorce right now. We’re going to fix what we have, and you’re going to come back to me. We’re...We're married for a reason, and we’re going to keep with it!”

"That's a bullshit reason,” you had to snap. “Listen to yourself. Do you hear how selfish you sound!?" At this point, nothing could hide your bafflement. "Naoya, you were the one who said that if I wanted to leave this marriage badly, then I should leave. Ask Mai and Maki! They heard the entire conversation. Didn't you also say that you didn't give a fuck anymore?"

The man attempted to salvage some semblance of control. "I was just joking!"

"No, you were not." Picking up a photo of Naoya and Mari together, you pressed the picture to his face. “How much more can I take? How many days would I still have to go through alone in the penthouse, all because you would be spending your sweet time with the woman that you love?”

Unloading all this emotional baggage, not only for Naoya Zenin but also for the café spectators to hear, took courage. Previously, you would have let the burden gnaw at your soul. You would have rather wallowed in suffering rather than even think about speaking up.

But the past was the past, and you had grown immensely since then. Currently, you were stronger, more confident. You knew that, in Toji's words, you deserved better. Life was too beautiful to waste on a man who did not love or respect you and, with that in mind, you relaxed your clenched fists with an exhausted and fatigued sigh.

You broke me first, you said through a deserted gaze.

Naoya Zenin was the reason why you had become the way you were: a cold, seemingly heartless wife who cared none for her husband. The misery that he placed on your shoulders finally reached its limit, and while you could forgive, forgetting the memories in your scarred heart would be a task over months, years, and even a lifetime.

“Listen,” you began, tone terse, “this divorce will set you free. Mari is the person whom you need—”

“The hell. No!” the man interrupted in a violent outburst, taking your breath away as he slammed the table and hissed. “I don't give a damn about her right now! We’re…We’re over!" he snarled with incredible anger such that he almost appeared to growl. "I don’t need her, I need you! That...That whore doesn't give a flying fuck about my shit! All she cares about is...is...Fuck this. All she wants is the money. Why else do you think she married and then later divorced Toji? She doesn't want to hear about all the shit in my family because she had not been brought up to deal with all the fuckin' drama in my household. She can't understand because, unlike you, she wasn't born with a silver spoon shoved down her goddamn throat!"

Quietly, you absorbed his words, stunned.

So this was how their relationship had been.

You had not expected him to reveal all these entrenched feelings willingly, but his concoction between reckless rage and sheer desperation had allowed him to spill the ugly side of this extramarital affair. Naoya could not afford to lose you, and not just because this marriage solidified the respect of those around him. While Mari offered him an outlet for physical indulgence, only you could offer the cornerstone to Naoya's mental and social fortitude.

“So you ‘need’ me now, but what happens when you find another reason to hate me again? What will you do if you don’t think I can fulfill the role you want me to have as your partner? Or if you wake up one day and suddenly want your cousin’s ex-wife again? Or if you meet another woman? Am I supposed to stand there again, and watch this all happen?"

No answer.

The fact that he couldn't respond hurt.

"My decision is final. Looking back, I despised every single second married to you. In fact, I feel sorry for myself. The fact that I blindly put up with your manipulation, betrayal, and blame for all these months.” With your belongings collected, you prepared to leave. “You would be stupid to think you're the only one with options, you know.”

Only when you turned around did Naoya react, scrambling to his feet.

“What the fuck are you—”

In any other situation, he would have grabbed you, lunged at you, did everything in his power to stop you from going. Yet, given all the witnesses, all he could do was call you back like a helpless child, trying his best to not escalate the scene (although, at this point, even passerbys outside have stopped by the window to spectate).

"Hey!" Naoya called after you. “Hey! I’m still talking with you!”

Pathetic, really, to see him desperately beg for you to stay in his life.

There was a certain satisfaction in finally having the control at your fingertips. The feeling was empowering—electrifying, even—and you became so focused on the gratification that you barely registered Naoya's last question.

“Where are you going?”

At this point, you already stood by the exit.

“That’s not something that my soon-to-be ex-husband would need to know,” and you hardly gave him another glance as the door closed behind you. “Thank you for showing me everything I hope to never find in another man again."

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end notes: Part of why this update took so long was because I wanted to have an encounter between Naoya and Y/N to showcase Y/N’s development, from someone who thoughtlessly defended her husband to someone who could stand up for herself (all while alone!). I envisioned this interaction many times, and I thought about different ways to approach the scene, the delivery, the dialogue, the choreography, etc. It took me a while to go for what I currently have. Thank you for reading!

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jsprnt · 5 months ago

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Americano PT. 13 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: took me so so long, but I think the wait was worth it. 😭 let me know what you think, love u!😉

W/C: 4.072

part twelve

"Okay, is there anything left for me to do?"

I raise my head, looking up at my dad from my phone. The stack of papers on the dining table immediately giving me a headache.

"Are you asking me, dad? Or are you talking to yourself?" I ask, getting up from my position on the couch to see what his mid-life crisis is about.

"Myself.." He replies, bringing the ugly ceramic mug I’d decorated at the age of five up to his mouth.

The blue cursed-looking unicorn, with the biggest red eyes staring back at me, makes me clear my throat.

I mean, even I would have thrown that thing away after my child forgot about it.

"What are you doing?" I ask, leaning forward to flip through the stacks of paper.

Poor trees...

"Stop messing with them, y/n. They are important documents for work.."

I hum in understanding, holding my hands up in surrender.

"You're really killing off nature with these.." I add, scratching my itchy nose.

"Will you please go and do something useful, sweetheart?"

I sigh, instead of walking away, I sit down next to him. Turning to him with a smile on my face.

"Give me something useful I can do.." I ask, giving him a sickly sweet smile.

I hear him chuckle, his hand coming to rub my shoulder, before he points to the stack of papers on his left.

"The other documents I’d rather not have you go through.."

He reaches for the papers, placing them in front of me.

"Can you sort these in chronological order? It's images of camera footage, date and time are on the top right."

"Sure, dad.." I agree, flipping through the black-and-white printed images. Curiosity raised at what I'm seeing.

An individual, with more of a masculine frame standing outside of a huge, luxurious house.

Dressed in- from what I can make out to be, a black t-shirt, along with the ugliest pair of jorts I have ever seen.

"Where is this from? New case?"

"Bellingham's case." He replies curtly, writing something down on his notepad.

It was astonishing how anyone could read his handwriting.

Were lawyers second in 'the most unreadable handwriting' competition, next to doctors?

I raise my brows at his answer, interest peaked suddenly. I look around the house, as if Jude would pop up like some ‘Bloody Mary’ game if called out for three times- but I remember he is out tonight, enjoying his break from training at fuck-knows-where.

"Footage from the break-in?"

"Yes, honey- any more questions?" He glances at me for a moment, raising a single brow in question.

"No, not really..." I say, eyes flying to the date and time.

I only recognize the date as the first match we played in the Champions League this season, back in September at Bernabéu.

The dates do match up, and when I continue flipping through the images. Seeing more and more images of different dates, with more damage done to the home, makes me gasp.

How did Jude and his mom even live here for many more months after the first incident?

I feel goosebumps rise up on my skin at the thought of feeling unsafe in my own home. Had I known how terrifying the things that happened to Jude were, I wouldn’t have been such an asshole when he first arrived.

My stupid mouth and I...

I shake my head as if to remove my thoughts, taking a deep breath before quickly sorting and stacking the images correctly.

If I had known sooner, maybe I could have been more civil towards my unwanted roommate..

"Girl, turn the lights on. I literally cannot see a single thing." Amira complains, smacking her bubblegum in the loudest way possible.

"I hate winter. Seriously, why does it get dark so early?.." I complain, hurrying over to switch the light on in my bedroom.

"Stop complaining and do a twirl for me.." She says, placing her phone against something stable, so she can see me properly.

"Oh, sure your majesty.." I mock, chuckling at her, before doing a 360.

"You look so damn good. I swear, if you don't take a man home-"

"It's a party- or event , full of my colleagues. I can't be a hoe tomorrow night.."

"If you wanted, you would.." I watch her smirk, before she runs a hand down her dark locs.

"We can do that when you're visiting next time.."

"Can't- I have a man." I hear her chuckle, and definitely don't miss the sound of another, deeper laugh in the background.

"Oh, great thanks for reminding me. Hey Trent, stop listening in on us.." I say sternly, leaning in towards the screen.

"He's not listening in. He is on the phone with Jude.."

Oh, fuck, great.

I turn towards my door, praying Jude or Trent wouldn't be too loud on the phone.

At this point, I was surprised that the jig wasn't up yet.

Amira already knew about it, of course. I just hoped Trent didn't.

I mean, it would be foolish to think that Jude and I could keep our secret to ourselves. But for once, I trusted he would keep his mouth shut about us living together.

Everyone knows that men gossip more than women. They could know the most intricate details of the juiciest drama you'll ever come across, and never utter a single word about it until you ask about it directly.

"Trent's gone, now speak. Why do you look like you're sweating buckets?"

"I feel sick, like- my stomach hurts.." I begin, struggling to take my dress off.

"Maybe you got your period?" She suggests, using the screen to watch herself dot the pinkest liquid blush on her cheekbones.

"No, my Clue app says I'm getting my period in six days.." I reply, hanging my dress back into the closet. Then, I grab my pajama set, pulling the comfy clothes on quickly.

"You're probably nervous about tomorrow.." She mumbles, fidgeting with the lamp next to her, before blending the blush seamlessly into her foundation.

"What could I possibly be nervous about? I've been going for like two years, since I became eighteen.." I flop onto my bed, cuddling my soft pillow against my body.

My thoughts wander for a moment, something close to déjà vu washing over me.

"It's the butterflies.."

I snap my head back towards my phone, pulling a confused face.

"For?.."

"For Jude- You have butterflies in your stomach for Jude!" She screams unnecessarily loudly, making me drop my phone onto my bed.

I gasp, retrieving my phone from the mattress, looking back at her with wide eyes.

"Are you crazy?! Dude, he's literally across the hallway!" I exclaim, burying my head into my pillows.

"He probably heard you!" I cry out, giving her a middle finger.

"Exactly my intentions! I swear, everybody in the fucking world knows he wants you at this point. I've never seen two people in this much denial before."

"I literally don't know what to do with myself, thanks for emphasizing that.."

"How long is it going to take for you to be honest with yourself? Another six months, yeah? You like him, come on. You like him.."

"I haven't liked anyone since high school.."

"Let's not bring high school love into this. You were sixteen, should’ve been worried about GCSE's instead..."

"Okay, let me do a little magazine quiz for you.." I watch her spray her fixing spray onto her face.

She dries her face with a small fan, before leaning in and looking at me with a serious expression.

"Go ahead.." I groan, sitting up properly.

"What do you think of when you see him?"

"I don't know? 'There he is again'?" I answer stupidly, looking at her. I watch her cover her mouth, probably disappointed with my reply.

"Okay- let's try this. Imagine, tomorrow, you see him in a suit, tie all of that- dresssed up nicely, with his hair freshly cut. He smells like the sexiest cologne you have ever smelled. No 'Doir, Sauvage' shit- think 'Tom Ford, Oud Wood'.."

The rest of whatever the fuck she says doesn't register in my brain, but the heat slowly pooling into my body, down my stomach and thighs, tells me enough.

It tells me too much.

I’m fucked, done for.

A lost cause.

I need an exorcism..

"I'm ready!" I shout, taking one quick look in the mirror, before grabbing my handbag off my bed.

I stuff a powderpuff, some lip products, and my phone into my bag and rush down the stairs.

"Come on, honey. It's one thing to be late- another thing for me to be late to the event I'm co-hosting.." My dad says, already standing at the front door, navy blue suit making him look handsome.

"Ready! What do you think?" I ask him, pointing to my dress and heels.

"You look very beautiful. I did not think you'd wear such a daring colour.."

I know what he wants to say. ‘You look just like your mother’, but ignore those thoughts.

I shrug at him, glancing in the mirror again. The scarlet-red dress clinging to my skin is just the right amount of sexy and chic.

Of course, I had to go for a mini dress, ignoring my dad's wishes, because I could and I'm an adult.

I adjust my silver necklace, watching it glisten in the overhead light.

"Come on, y/n. Enough admiring.."

I nod, quickly walking behind him into the car.

I buckle my seatbelt, the mix of my dad's cologne and my perfume overwhelming me for a second.

"Wait? Where's Jude? Is he not attending?" I look at my dad, watching him pull out of the driveway.

"He will attend, but he said he would arrive with his teammates. He didn’t want to inconvenience us."

Inconvenience?

What did he mean with that?

I mean, we had not spoken properly for days- but inconvenience?

Am I overthinking things?

"Come and grab a drink with me.." Lina says, grabbing my wirst to pull me towards the cocktail- or in this case, mocktail bar.

Due to the discouragement of the players drinking alcohol, mid-season- it was the upmost important for this party to only offer non-alcoholic drinks.

And considering what had happened last time I was drunk- I wasn't complaining, at all..

The party had started two hours ago, though a little formal. We made the most out of it, while dancing along with the beautiful live music. The clock would strike twelve in a little, indicating the beginning of a new year.

Something about New Year’s Eve made me incredibly emotional at times. Maybe, it was the realization of life going faster than I thought- or maybe, it was some resentment I held against the negative things that happened in the year.

Even so, I tried to make the most of this party every year. Dancing wholeheartedly, tasting the food the chefs had worked so hard on, drinking the delicious drinks made by the bartenders.

"I'm going to get a Negroni- How about you?" Lina asks, wrapping her arm around mine as we walk towards the bar.

"I don't know- maybe I’ll just ask for a recommendation.." I speak, looking over at her. Her black dress hugging her figure as our high heels click against the floor.

"Oh, look who's here too.." She says, motioning ahead with her eyes and chin.

I follow her gaze, furrowing my brows in confusion. My eyes land on a couple of the football team players, all looking happy as they order their drinks one by one.

"Oh.." I mouth, lips pulling back into a straight line as I spot Jude next to them.

And of course, just like my dear best friend had described last night. He is dressed in a sleek, black suit matched with a crispy white shirt.

I watch him interact with his teammates, unconsciously staring at him as we near the bar.

His pearly white teeth show as the corners of his eyes crinkle, probably laughing at something funny one of the guys said.

I almost gasp out loud when he turns around, my eyes moving down to see the deep red handkerchief, placed neatly in the pocket of his suit.

Why in heaven's name- did we match?

I lean against the bar by instinct, drawing my attention back to the bartender who's standing in front of me. Eyes darting to the menu, of course- to only see non-alcoholic options.

Maybe, I did need a different type of drink.

'I'll have a Negroni, please.." I hear Lina say, and look at her for a moment before turning back to the bartender. Trying to ignore the fact that I can feel a pair of eyes burning holes into the back of my head.

What was that called again?

Scopaesthesia?

Whatever it's called, there should be a name for someone's warmth too- because Jude probably could feel the heat radiating off my body at this point, even if he isn’t standing that close to me..

"And what would this beauty like?”

I stand up straight at the words, looking at the smiling bartender.

I give him a soft, appreciative smile back, enjoying his non-creepy way of delivering a compliment, and quickly ask for a recommendation.

As y/n speaks to the bartender, he laughs back, leaning in to whisper something into her ear. It earns a chuckle from her, making her lean against the bar again.

Unaware of his own body language, Jude tightens his grip on his glass. His jaw twitches, and he turns away from the scene, scoffing to himself before taking a gulp of his drink.

His body tensing up does not go unnoticed by his friends slash teammates. He gets a pat on the shoulder from Dani, making him relax for a moment.

"Loosen up, brother. Have some fun.." Eduardo speaks, giving him his signature smile while clinking his full glass with Jude's.

Jude nods, walking closer towards the crowd of his teammates, trying his absolute best to remove his brown eyes from the girl.

The girl his brain has not stopped thinking about, ever since that drunken night..

From the way she looked, spoke, dressed- he was infatuated with her.

And tonight?

The sexy red dress, hugging her body- showing skin-

He is fucked, absolutely fucked, especially when he realizes how clammy his hands are.

The normally confident and playful Jude vanishes for a moment. He's acting like a lovesick teenage boy, too nervous to ask his crush out for prom.

The hour passes painfully slow, with the both of them sneaking glances at each other every other minute. Their friends notice, of course, smirks on their faces as they realize how clueless they are.

Young love shouldn't be this complicated, they think, wanting to push them towards each other already. Tired of the back and forth they were a part of these past months. The patience they had was running low, even though it wasn't anything harming or hurting them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!" A sharp, ear-piercing sound echos from the microphone, booming out of the speakers.

The speaker is none other than a Real Madrid executive, standing next to the chic, wealthy woman, is y/n’s father.

The entire venue’s attention turns to the two individuals, conversations and laughter cut off immediately.

"Just like every year since our successful partnership with Mr. l/n. We thank you for being here at our annual New Year's event!"

The room answers with happy and loud cheers, some clapping along in agreement. An interesting mix of almost all the athletes signed to Real Madrid, their hardworking staff, and not to forget, esteemed lawyers from the law firm.

"We will enter the new year in ten minutes! Please enjoy the rest of your night!"

As if on cue, the room goes back to their own conversation. And the restless, nervous wreck y/n immediately turns around to visit the bar again, asking the bartender for another one of the drinks he'd made for her earlier.

She didn't even remember what it was called. All she tasted and saw were strawberries- which meant that the bright pink, iced drink was good enough.

She grabs the drink off the counter, thanking the bartender, before turning around to return to her friends.

She looks down to watch her step, high heels starting to hurt her feet, as she tries to walk without tripping, making her forget to watch where she’s going.

Before the girl is aware of it, her body collides with a harder one. Glass in her han, tipping over, the pink drink splashing all over a white, crispy shirt.

y/n gasps, eyes widening in horror. Looking up from the disaster, she makes eye contact with a shell-shocked Jude. His own, brown eyes widening impossibly wider than hers.

Covering her mouth, she places the glass on a small, round bar table next to her, turning to him wordlessly.

"Oh- I, umh.." She stutters, sweat practically visible on her temples at this point.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She thinks, multiple thoughts running through her head like Usain-fucking-Bolt..

With only one brain-cell working in between them, and their hearts beating like crazy. She grabs his hand, pulling him off the dance floor- into a small closet, behind the stage. Away from the peering eyes and cameras at the event.

She turns away from him, closing the door, before locking it. Ensuring no one would walk into this disaster of a sight.

"Take it off.." She begins, speaking without thought. Reaching for a roll of paper towels, ripping off a stack of them before starting to dab away the moisture from his now pink-stained-shirt.

Her eyes dart up, lips parting slightly as Jude shrugs off his jacket, throwing it to the side.

The dim light flickers in the small, suffocating room. She halts the hurried dabbing, making eye contact with an equally entranced Jude.

"Sorry.." y/n whispers, breath hitting his plump lips. Her hand moves up again, rolling some more of the paper towel around her hand, before wiping off the excess moisture again.

Jude's body stiffens, particularly his abdomen. He takes a sharp breath, looking down at the flustered girl.

For some reason, a sudden switch flips inside of him. He sighs, eyes roaming up and down her form, a warm, but burning feeling settling in his stomach.

He decides to move for a moment, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. It causes y/n to freeze up this time, her body going rigid as she watches him expose his arms.

Even in the dim light, his muscles protrude, along with the bulging veins running down his forearms.

"Fucking hell.." He says in a low voice, unbuttoning the top buttons of his ruined shirt, making the girl’s eyes widen again.

"What- What are you doing?" She asks, heart almost exploding due to the pace it’s beating at.

"I'm burning up in this room.." He replies, making direct eye contact with her, as he fidgets with the white buttons.

Revealing more, and more skin..

It's like he's dropped the nervousness within seconds. Looking into her eyes while fixing the collar of his shirt.

Even though it takes him approximately ten seconds, to the girl in front of him- the moment is dragged out horribly long and in slow motion.

Her breath hitches at the delicious sight, and she gulps while looking up at him.

Deeply entranced in the tension filled- sensual moment, she drops the wet, used paper towels mindlessly onto the floor.

The lights flicker once again, making her eyes squint as she takes him in.

No doubt, the image will be burned into her infatuated mind from now on. Gnawing at her sanity and logical thinking.

Of course, he smells good. So damn good, the perfect mix of musk and powdery cologne.

Not only is the sight delicious, but the smell is too.

The loud music outside of the small enclosed space continues, the crowd singing along to the chorus of a well-known song.

She looks down for a second, trying to collect her thoughts before she says something completely unhinged.

"Jude.." She whispers, heart beating erratically in his chest. y/n can feel her hands shake, her legs trembling in her high heels.

Their breaths mingle as they look into each other's eyes. A silence settling in between them after she says his name.

Jude's veins practically burst at the sound of his name leaving her lips. His eyes dart to the perfectly glossed lips that say his name so sweetly, so softly..

His mind goes dizzy at the sound. Wanting to hear it over, and over again. Loving the sound most ardently..

A soft groan leaves his mouth, and he traces her beautiful features with his eyes, until he makes eye contact with her, again.

"We should leave this place. The countdown is about to begin.." She whispers the only words she can think of saying, breath shaky and faint.

Jude does not answer with words, but his eyes do dart towards the door. Ears perking up as he hears the familiar countdown begin.

"Twenty!" The crowd exclaims, happiness and excitement buzzing throughout the venue- except in the small room they are in.

"Jude!" She says again, voice a little more stable than before. She raises her left hand, pulling on the hem of his now- untucked shirt.

He snaps his head back at her, watching the soft skin in between her brows pinch together in frustration.

"y/n.." He whispers back, head leaning closer against hers. Making her grip on his shirt grow tighter. Skin on her knuckles tightening from the strength she's using.

"What?" She asks, voice fiery sharp, and impatient. Emotions making her eyes glisten, along with the jewelry adorning her neck and ears in the light.

Though, the tension is high and suffocating- Jude grins suddenly, plump lips stretching as he leans in closer. His own eyes, now with a hint of playfulness in them, roaming around her face.

"Ten!" They hear the crowd exclaim, continuing to cheer and laugh together.

"What?" She says again, lifting her chin up to look him in the eyes. Her breath hitches at the playful expression on his face, like he's an imminent danger to her heart and lungs.

"You're the most annoying fucking person I have ever met.." He speaks, with no real malice in his tone. A chuckle leaves his mouth, soft breaths hitting her lips.

y/n's heart stutters at his words, and the change of emotion in her eyes makes him go absolutely crazy.

"Fuck, and I love that. I love you, y/n.." He breathes, his hand cupping her jaw.

He watches her face intently, watching her blink multiple times, before her hand travels from the hem of his shirt to his unbuttoned collar.

She wraps her hand around the fabric, pulling him closer with a small jank. Wetting her lips with her tongue, she speaks again.

"Then fucking kiss me, you annoying douche bag.."

The words leave her mouth in a fluid, rehearsed way, and she loses herself in his deep eyes.

"Three!"

"Fucking gladly.." He mutters, both of their eyes fluttering shut as his hand moves over to the small of her back impatiently.

"Happy New Year!"

Their lips brush against each other, her hands gripping onto his shirt with a vice-like grip.

Her breath hitches at first, making him chuckle cockily against her lips. His hand supporting her jaw in the most tender way possible, as his thumb rubs against the softness of her cheek.

The soft press of their lips touching make their hearts flutter.

Realizing there is no point of return from this, the feathery touches turn into heated, greedy ones.

The rush of adrenaline makes them lose their self-control, an unstoppable, alluring feeling injected into their veins as they continue soaking in the moment, until they part for air.

Their ragged pants brush against each other's faces, a small smile pulling at her lips. Eyes finding each other again, as their hearts beat in unison.

Jude stares into her eyes, thumb running down her jaw, as he smiles back at her.

"Beautiful. You're beautiful.."

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude x reader #jude #jude bellingham x reader #bellingham x reader #bellingham #football fanfic #football imagines #football #footballer x reader #real madrid fc #real madrid #england #england nt #football blurb #football imagine

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skamenglishsubs · 8 months ago

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Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 3

Episode 3 picks up the day after the camping trip, and Wilhelm calls his mom to check on her. She dumps a massive guilt trip on him, maybe unintentionally, and Wilhelm is feeling a little bit down.

Culture: These are Swedish studentmössor. They originated in the 1800's among Nordic university students and they wore them as a common marker. Later, they were adopted as graduation caps for high school students, signifying that they were now allowed to begin studying at a university.

Culture: Valborg, April 30th, is a traditional Swedish holiday where you celebrate the coming of spring with bonfires. It is also the start of graduation season for high school students, and graduates are allowed to start wearing their caps.

Cinematography: This season they started writing most on-screen social media commentary in English, despite those users being pretty obviously Swedish. I suspect it's because it saves them having to subtitle all of them, it makes it a bit easier for all the viewers to follow along.

Subtext: No, keeping up appearances is more important than mental health for the royal family, which is why this is new behaviour that Wilhelm has never seen before.

Subtext: As a reminder of the increased interest, here's a paparazzi intruding on school grounds. Also, where the hell is Malin? Isn't it her job to shoo away photographers?

Culture: Vintern Rasat is a classic Swedish song celebrating spring that's often performed by student singers at Valborg.

Subtext: Boris cleverly offers August individual therapy, something he sorely needs.

Subtext: It's of course a bit ironic that pretty much the entire fandom hates August and has decided that he can't be forgiven or redeemed. Yes, you, dear reader. But Boris lays out a way for August to start his redemption arc. Will it work? Tune in for next week's episode!

Culture: These usernames reek of white supremacy. Norse mythology references are very popular, and 88 means H*il H*tler, so that's the kind of people we're dealing with. The show is also foreshadowing what's gonna happen at the end of the episode.

Blink and you miss it: Linda made Pabellón, a Venezuelan dish. In season 1 we didn't know where Linda was from, but in season 2 she was canonically made as being from Venezuela, just like Omar is in real life.

Subtext: I think August actually cares, Kristina is family to him too, but Wilhelm refuses to treat him as family, so he lies about how she's doing. Not very convincingly, though.

Cinematography: This is an absolutely hilarious shot with a bunch of students anxiously peering out through the windows as the dreaded enemy arrives: Skolinspektionen! Dun-dun-dun!

Blink and you miss it: There's a rainbow flag on the board to the left.

Subtext: Vanessa totally knew she interrupted a makeout session between our boys. Oh, and there's a lot of purple in these two scenes, colour theory exploded with joy.

Subtext: Simon will be proven wrong, someone will be honest.

Subtext: It's also ironic that Simon joins the rest of the Forest Ridge boys pretending to have a great meal together that is totally not stiff and awkward at all, absolutely not.

Lost in translation: Simon Walter says that May 1st is a "röd dag" - a red day, which is how Sundays and public holidays are usually marked in a Swedish calendar. "Bank holiday" is the term used in the UK for public holidays. There are 13 public holidays in Sweden each year.

Culture: Första Maj is the name of the International Workers' Day in Sweden, because it always occurs on May 1st. In defence of Henry and Walter's shared braincell, most Swedes actually don't participate, but it's a bit weird to not even know what it is.

Subtext: This entire sequence shows how Felice's dad tried to stick up for himself, but quickly learned to keep his head down instead and conform and roll with it. And it wasn't just the other students who were racists, the staff was in on it too. This goes for all the shit the students are doing, the partying, the booze, the alcohol, the bullying: The staff is in on it. They know. They're complicit.

And despite all of this, Poppe's immediate answer when asked how his time at Hillerska was, is that it was the best time of his life. This is why schools like this stay the way they are, why they never change, because they're very good and very bad at the same time. Trauma-bonding works, the kids will all get friends for life, they'll forget the shit and remember the good times. They'll become like him.

But when Felice learns what the school did to her dad, she decides to help shut it down, to stop the cycle of abuse. The reason she goes in alone is because she now knows she can't trust her dad, he's gonna defend the school, and she also doesn't want him to know that she snitched.

Subtext: In official surveys, students from schools like this generally rate them very highly. Student satisfaction is very high. Maybe they're lying, maybe they're delusional, but they sure care more about their schools than public school students.

Blink and you miss it: REAL SUBTLE THERE, SHOW.

Subtext: Keeping with the school theme, this is how students defend the shit that goes on. Outsiders are kept in the dark, you don't tell them anything, because they "wouldn't understand", they're missing the "full context", etc. Oh, I don't know shit about fashion, but Fredrika's jacket smells very expensive.

Blink and you miss it: While Wilhelm pinned a polaroid of himself and Simon prominently on his wall, August keeps a similar polaroid of himself and Sara hidden.

Subtext: Micke's redemption arc is in full swing, so why not play a song that reinforces the idea that people can change?

Subtext: August's redemption arc is in full swing, so let's cut to him nervously waiting outside Micke's place for Sara to come home, while the same song is playing. Is he gonna be a villain forever?

Blink and you miss it: Micke introduces himself as Micke af Eriksson when August introduces himself as August Horn af Årnäs. The English subtitles for some weird reason went with "Micke Eriksson of Bjärstad", but that's actually not what he says.

Subtext: Sara is pretty realistic about her expectations of her dad because she's seen this before, but this also applies to her expectations of August, because she knows that he can also slide back into his normal shitty self. Also, she's wearing a purple sweater.

Subtext: In case you forgot, August's dad also struggled with addiction, and died from it, so he and Sara actually has that in common. Maybe there's hope for this redemption arc thing?

Cinematography: I don't fucking know why they included this baking scene. It serves no purpose, and I suspect quite a few people in the production have a serious hand fetish, because what is this? What is this? Also, why are Simon and Wilhelm joining what appears to be a Manor House thing with the rest of the girls? How? Why? This makes no sense! It's very cute, though!

Subtext: Oh ok, we got a social media pic that Sara could see and feel bad for her lost friendships. But man, those Hillerska aprons! On point!

Subtext: This is unfortunately a very common thing for people on any kind of psychoactive medication. How can you tell if you need medication if you feel good right now? Is it lasting or temporary? Can you trust your own brain? Either way, fantastic conversation between Micke and Sara, which starts her on her journey to reconcile with Felice at least.

🎵 I can change, I'm not the same, not forever. 🎵

Culture: The official hat-on-putting ceremony where all the third-year students put on their hats, set to another traditional Swedish spring celebration song: Vårvindar Friska.

Culture: It's Valborg, so Hillerska has their own little bonfire. We saw some students with torches pretending to light it, but it's actually floating in the middle of the fountain so, uh, how did they do that? Normally, your local bonfire or Majbrasa is just a huge heap of wood that you set on fire.

Cinematography: Man, this is a pretty show. Look at that shot. The fire, the sunset, the pool reflection. The end of April is over a month after the spring equinox, so the days are getting longer, and the sun now sets at about half past nine in the evenings.

Subtext: Ok, let's do one more on-the-nose lyrics thing for when August sees Sara back at school. Yes, yes, he needs her.

Culture: I had to post about it immediately after watching the episode, because setting a sex scene to Uti Vår Hage is hilarious. Everyone in Sweden knows it, most people have sung it at school, it's a cute little song about enjoying your garden, flowers, and giving your loved one a wreath of flowers. I can now never hear this song without thinking about this scene. Thanks a lot, show.

Blink and you miss it: Simon fucks Wilhelm. Yay! Versatile supremacy!

Subtext: Sara is still so suspicious of her dad's behaviour, she can't make herself trust that his current good period will last.

Subtext: Even though this dialogue is about how Simon and Sara are so different, it of course also applies to how Wilhelm and Erik were different, because Wilhelm struggles with not being able to handle his duty the same way Erik could.

Culture: Alright, it's time for the actual local Första Maj event in Bjärstad. The town is probably a bit small to have a proper demonstration parade, but there's people with banners and socialist slogans, and a bunch of local organisations have joined in, including Bjärstad BK, the football club Rosh plays in.

Culture: Meanwhile, the absolutely not socialist rich kids at Hillerska are nursing their hangovers and enjoying the day off, and they're doing some yoga and playing some padel instead. As you do.

Subtext: Drugs. He looks like he's selling drugs.

Culture: These apparently confused a bunch of viewers, but they're just raffle tickets. It's one hundred numbered, rolled up, paper tickets stuck on a metal ring. When you buy a ticket you just tear it off at the perforation, and when all tickets are sold you can just break the seal on the ring and pour all the stubs in a bag or whatever so you can draw winners.

Blink and you miss it: Cute kiddo has a pride pin on his jacket.

Lost in translation: The show waited a bit with showing what it says on the banner behind them in the photo, but if you can read Swedish you immediately saw that it says KROSSA ÖVERKLASSEN - CRUSH THE UPPER CLASSES. Oh no, Simon, what have you done?

Blink and you miss it: Like a pack of rabid wolves, the social-media starved Gen Z kids rush to their phones for an hour of glorious feeding on Instagram and TikTok.

Blink and you miss it: I love Vincent so much, he's terrible, but he's just so much fun! The little fist he makes as he says "kampen" just seals it.

Subtext: The show still hasn't revealed the banner text to the non-Swedish audience, but Wilhelm immediately sees it and knows how bad it is and why Farima tried calling him seven times. Also, Vincent is just on a roll here.

Cinematography: Man, this is a pretty show. Look at that shot. Look at how they perfectly aligned the hole in the window with Simon, the police car, and the entrance to their house, as he discovers that someone decided to vandalize it.

#young royals #young royals subtext #young royals analysis #young royals season 3

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goldfishontheceiling · 7 months ago

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"Alastor is just using Rosie" NUH UH whips out the list

1. He is capable of making friends, as seen with Mimzy. So it's not that hard to believe that he can have another friend if one (cough cough MIMZY cough) just comes around when she needs something. Mimzy doesn't even benefit him in anyway, yet he doesn't cut her off, which shows he can make friends.

2. Aside from the cannibals in ep7, what else could he get from her? I mean she does recommend him deals sometimes, but anyone can do that. If his true goal was control over the cannibals then their bond would feel a lot more shallow, like ep1-ep5ish with Charlie.

3. If Alastor was using Rosie for deal recommendations (since she gives him "prime pickings for a deal to be made"), then why not just do so with a mutalistic relationship instead of having to form that bond?

4. He bleat like a fawn. If he was acting, he wouldn't let himself lose composure for an act.

5. They both kinda get close to eachother in a way they don't with anyone else. SHE PICKS HIM UP AND SPINS HIM AROUND AND HE DOESN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT IT. Sure, he hugged Mimzy, but if she ever did that? She would most likely be dead.

6. If anyone else openly/jokingly insulted Alastor, he would go all scary demon ahhhhhhhh. But Rosie? Perfectly fine.

7. The way he talks to Rosie is different to the way he talks to Charlie. With Charlie he's a little bitch sometimes (oh Charlie you look an absolute mess!) and he kinda takes every chance he can to be a little bitch while still being nice and showing he's important.

8. Rosie knows things about Alastor that he hasn't even figured out (I know your an ace in the hole!), and for Rosie to know these things, that would require Alastor to open up about himself, which he doesn't like doing because "must be mysterious radio deer man." Even to Charlie, who he does have a bond with, SHE STILL JUST THINKS OF HIM AS "MYSTERIOUS RADIO DEER MAN"

9. Hating someone together is one of the easiest ways to start a friendship, especially in hell, where people hating each other is really common (Susan? Susan)

10. If he truly was manipulating all of his friends, he's a sinner, he still has a humanish mind. Humans crave bonds with other people as part of their instincts. And you could just get fake ones, but if you're the manipulator in that situation you'll know it's all fake and it won't leave you fufilled. Which is why having one or two genuine friends (Rosie/Mimzy) would have to be a requirement.

11. He has manipulated other Overlords in the past, like Vox. But with Vox, they would realistically never get along. Same with Vaggie, Angel Dust, etc, he just wouldn't be able to form a true bond with/a very strong both with those people. So yes, he's manipulating/has manipulated them. Rosie on the other hand? They're both cannibals from similar time periods, with similar interests, and they hate the same people.

12. Rosie is smart. She easily reads Charlie, a stranger, like a book. And if she's known Alastor for years (which she most likely has), she knows how to read him past that stupid permanent smile. So even if he was manipulating her, she would know.

13. He HATES Susan, and Vox, and probably some other people I can't think of off the top of my head. He can't stand them. So if he hated Rosie? He wouldn't be able to fake a bond like the one they have.

14. His pupils dilate around Rosie, which is a sign that you like/love whatever it is that you are looking at

Look at these

COMPARED TO THESE

AND IT ONLY HAPPENS WHEN IT'S JUST THEM TWO

15. Rosie agrees with him when he says that Charlie is "filled with potential that I could guide," so she knows that he's using her for that kinda stuff. With that moment it shows that she understands that Alastor is helping Charlie with her dream in exchange. I swear I had more thoughts on this one but then I got distracted with finding screenshots for 14-

Bonus reason that's more silly then reason: THAT DANCE IN READY FOR THIS IS TOO COORDINATED THEY HAD TO HAVE PRACTICED IT

#i had to hold myself back from going full autism mode #because if i didn't this post would just be a giant wall of capital letters #anyway tag time #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin #rosie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin rosie #rosie hazbin #alastor and rosie #platonic radiorose #qpr radiorose #radiorose #rosie and alastor #idk what else to tag

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ladykailitha · 8 months ago

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Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 17

This is the last chapter of this story. I do have the sequel halfway written and it will be most of the way, if not all the way done before I post the first chapter.

It's called "Everything I Ever Wanted" and will be four chapters, each based on a part of Steve's new life I wanted to highlight. Retirement, Steve's charity, the bonding and mating, and the birth of their first child and the fallout with his parents.

I will still keep the Glitters tag list for the sequel. I wouldn't normally, but it's such a little thing, it's just easier that way. If you want to be taken off the list for the sequel, let me know.

Here is Steve's happily ever after. As it should be.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

****

Steve hated his heats before, but he loathed them now. Now he had an alpha he wanted to share it with, only they weren’t allowed to.

It was only a mini heat to clear out a minor faux bond and would barely last twenty four hours, but they would be the most miserable twenty four hours of his life and that included the twenty four hours after he learned he was infertile.

But Robin was the best handler in the business for a reason. The second his body temperature spiked, Xander and her got Eddie out and into her apartment, still in rut as he was.

Then she rebuilt Steve’s nest from scratch to perfection with the minor edition of Eddie’s handkerchief under his pillow.

The handkerchief plus, Eddie’s scent still sending out waves toward Steve’s apartment would help mitigate the absolute misery he would be in, but he still hated it.

Once all traces of the heat were out of his system, and his temperature going back to normal was Steve allowed visitors. Not even Robin was allowed inside his bedroom during his heats.

Though that was mainly because the poor omega was so pitiful and crying that a lot of handlers would be emotional wrecks afterwards.

Robin had made the mistake once when a heat came a week early due to some stress that was happening in Steve’s life and she was a sobbing mess the whole time he was in heat.

No one knew why the sight of an omega in heat drove betas to such an extreme emotional response, but the prevailing theory was that it was an evolutionary throw back to the pre-historic era so that betas would be moved to not take advantage of the omega in their most vulnerable time.

He showered and stepped out to his front room and smiled. Robin and Eddie were on the sofa waiting for him.

“Hey, princess,” Eddie murmured. “How are you feeling?”

Steve groaned and flopped down on the seat between the two of them. “Like I’ve been run over. The mini heats are the worst. Because you can’t prepare for them.”

“Especially since that was his first mini heat,” Robin commented dryly, “that automatically makes it worse.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t usually get mini heats?”

“Nope!” Steve said, popping the P. “Robin carefully curates my clients so that it’s never happened. I’ve experienced faux bonds before, the chemical bonding of scents instead of an actual bite bond. Those are common enough. But no, no mini heats for me.”

Eddie looked over at Robin who looked smug.

“Well that’s good then,” he said.

Steve nodded. He chewed on his lower lip and sighed. “I think we need to talk about the golden omega thing. It’s not possible, right?”

Robin and Eddie raised their eyebrows.

“Stevie,” Eddie said gently, “not only is it possible, it’s highly probable.”

Steve looked over at Robin and she nodded.

“Wait, what?”

“You don’t have to do anything about it now,” Robin said. “As long as you are a Starcourt escort you’ll spend your heats alone. And then if you want to get bonded to Eddie and have pups with him, walk away from the job and then mate.”

Steve went stock still as he mulled it over in his mind. Eddie and Robin exchanged concerned glances but stayed silent as Steve’s entire world view was shifted on its axis.

Starcourt had always treated Steve like he was special. It was one of the reasons his cherry popping was such a major event. His parents had sneered at the whole experience, but the agency had gone out of their way to make Steve feel safe in the process.

But to be a golden omega for real? And not just because Eddie wanted him to be special. Not that Eddie didn’t already think he was special, but this would cement how special Steve actually was.

He knew his parents would immediately come out of the woodwork to claim more money for being a golden omega, but it would also be the sweetest justice imaginable.

Because they could have gotten more from Steve’s omegahood and chose to throw him away like he didn’t matter. Only coming back when they needed more money.

“Explain it to me,” he whispered.

And they did. Robin leading the way with Eddie filling in spots where he thought Steve needed more clarity. When they were done Steve looked at Robin and said with tears in his eyes, “If I retire do I lose you?”

Robin’s lip quivered and she got up on her knees. She gently took Steve’s face in her hands. “No. Absolutely not. Yes, an omega escort has to be a handler’s top priority, but you are my best friend. My platonic soulmate, you’d have to murder me to get me to leave you. Do you understand?”

Steve nodded and then threw himself into her arms. Having to choose between the love of his life and his best friend would have been the hardest thing he would have ever had to do. But this made it easy.

They talked about it for a bit and ultimately it was decided Steve would retire when he turned thirty. It would give him a couple more years do a job he loved, but still give Eddie and him plenty of time to have pups.

“That’s a perfect solution,” Eddie agreed. “And I think the band will agree to a couple years break making music so we can all focus on our family lives.”

Steve’s omega chirped happily. Eddie chuckled and pulled him onto his lap. He nuzzled Steve’s scent gland and the omega chirped again.

“Look at you,” Robin said happily. “All content and comfortable. You just got every thing you could ever want, you lucky bastard.”

Steve grinned at her. “I am so blessed.”

Eddie blew a raspberry under Steve’s ear causing him to giggle.

“Eddie!” he protested, trying to push the alpha away, but Eddie did it again, this time on his cheek.

Soon they were wrestling and Steve ended up on the floor, looking up at a surprised Eddie.

“Rude,” Steve huffed as he got to his feet.

“Oops!”

Robin shook her head.

Eddie brought out Steve’s silly side and Steve let Eddie be himself. Apparently the universe knew what it was doing after all with these two.

****

The next three years passed by in a blur.

Chrissy had become the star Steve always knew she was. But of course, that meant her ex-boyfriend and her mother found out about her leaving the convent.

Steve was actually there to witness their faces, purple with rage showing up at some event she was at. The alpha actress she was with had to call security to get them removed.

Chrissy released a statement through the agency that spoke of her love of the job, the religious abuse her mother had put her through, and the love she thought was eternal with Jason turning to ash when she found out she couldn’t bear his children.

She spoke of the love that the sisters had shown her when her mother had dropped her off at the convent against the wishes of her father and her own. About how half of her cherry price went to those same sisters who had protected her from the wrath of her mother for years.

She spoke about how she found her people with Starcourt Services. How she had good friends, made good money, and how her father had supported her every step of the way. And how the other half of her cherry price would always be waiting for her if she ever wanted to leave. Something that after some serious soul searching she knew would not be for a long, long time.

Chrissy’s story burst open a scandal that had been the Church’s best kept secret, that a third of the omegas that came to them after learning they were infertile were brought there against their will by religious extremist parents not wanting their omega child to live their own lives.

Max and Lucas finally announced they were bonding after Lucas played his first game in the NBA as the first omega point guard for the Indiana Pacers, having won their law suit.

With Steve retiring, Robin was going to be Chrissy’s handler. Robin hadn’t lasted with Vickie due to them wanting different things out of life. Robin loved her job, but Vickie wanted more of her time to be focused just on her, something Robin wasn’t willing to do.

Tommy had been kicked out of the agency after he had a very public fight with his ex-girlfriend, Carol. He was supposed to be escorting Billy Hargrove but had found him in a bathroom with known omega starlet, Heather Holloway, his dick in her.

Carol had thrown it in his face that he couldn’t even get wandering Billy Hargrove to stay still long enough. Tommy had thrown hands and Starcourt had thrown him out.

Last Steve heard he was working as a pre-school teacher, barely making a tenth the amount he was at Starcourt. But he had found an alpha and they were happy together, satisfied for the first time in his life.

Jonathan was pregnant with Nancy and his second child. Steve was actually happy for them when they announced it.

Eddie’s band was topping the charts and had done a couple of tours. Steve had missed him, but with work keeping him busy, they were able to keep up a healthy communication.

Elinor and Gareth had decided to bond. Elinor knew that she would never reach the heights of Steve or Chrissy so when the last of her cherry price had been paid, she left the agency to be a rockstar’s wife.

Steve couldn’t wait to spend his first heat with Eddie. What was even better was the fact that Eddie’s rut had synced up with Steve’s heat and everyone knew to stay away for that week.

Their bonding and wedding ceremony was the talk of the town, Steve and Eddie surrounded by all their friends and loved ones. The whole Party was there.

Steve had taken preemptive measures against his parents, knowing that they would try and get more money from him, once Eddie and Steve announced that they had gotten pregnant.

He had a protective order ready to spring into affect the moment they tried anything. Lawyers on speed dial, and security on standby.

He had the life he had always dreamed of. A soulmate who would bond him and give him the pups he so desperately desired, who loved and cared for him like no one in his life could match. Robin came close. Because of course she did. Maybe not more or less than Eddie, but different.

And when that first little one came to loving and adoring parents, Steve knew that regardless if Dustin was omega, alpha, beta, or infertile Eddie and Steve would love him and support him no matter where he chose to go in life.

And that was the perfect ending to Steve’s story, he thought. Eddie couldn’t help but agree.

****

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

@maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv

@wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch

@yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child

@nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13

@demolvr @ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript

@alyelf @melodymeddler @mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman

@manda-panda-monium @lexirosewrites @lawrencebshoggoth @lingeringmirth

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #omegaverse #rockstar eddie munson #omega steve harrington

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love-byers · 5 months ago

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can you speak more on your experience becoming a byler cos this always fascinates me, especially when it's people who were once milevens thanks!

absolutely, i love talking about this lol

so i watched stranger things 1 when it came out in 2016 & i was 12. my media literacy wasn't great at the time, and like most people i liked mike and el's little romance. but i did think their kiss came way too fast and kind of out of nowhere. wasn't a fan of that. i thought it would've been better if they didn't get to kiss and made both the audience and mike and el wait. and i was like "uhhh how does she even know what a kiss is" but whatever

then s2 came out, i was 13. i LOVED mike and will's relationship, maybe even more than i liked mike and el's. when mike grabbed wills hand i VIVIDLY remember thinking "they would be such a good couple, but they'd never do that. oh well!". at this point in my life i was realizing my sexuality and was super into queer media. i say that just so you know i was receptive to queer representation and enjoyed it. but to me at that time, i saw stranger things for the massive success it was, famous enough that they'd never have a main character be queer. it just wasn't a thought in my mind that it could ever happen.

i loved the snowball scene and thought mike and el were super cute. i remember thinking "wow their bond must be so deep and they take each other very seriously. it's them against the world"

i was 15 and BEYOND pissed when s3 came out and it was clear mike and el were reduced to comedly relief. i wanted their relationship to be lovable like it was in s2. i hated how mike became so unlikable when he was with el when he was previously shown to be so loyal and caring. and above all, i hated how it was like mike and will's relationship in 2 never happened. i remember thinking "wtf mike?? do you not remember how protective you were of him before?? how close you were??" at the time i thought it was bad writing and it honestly turned me off of s3 and i didn't finish it for like 2 years.

when i finally did i was a bit confused. i remember watching the rain fight and thinking "wow that felt more like a breakup than mike and el's actual breakup" it just struck me how sad it was compared to the breakup. but my heteronormativity towards stranger things was so strong that i didn't even clock will being gay until someone pointed it out for me. and i definitely didn't clock that will was in love with mike. i remember noticing how mike and will were always together and positioned next to each other like jancy and lumax were. but for some reason, and i really don't know why, i just didn't really absorb it.

what really surprised me was the s3 finale, like the final goodbye scenes. during mike and will's i saw mikes reaction to will saying "not possible" and i was like.....hm. he sure seems happy. but whatever

mike and el's goodbye scene just confused me. i didn't understand why mike acted like he didn't know what she was talking about when he spent all season trying to say i love you, i didn't understand why mike didn't close his eyes or kiss her back when he spent all season trying to say i love you, i didn't understand why el walked away and winced, i didn't understand why mike looked like that when she walked away AFTER HE SPENT ALL SEASON TRYING TO SAY I LOVE YOU, and i didn't understand why the music sounded so happy as if NONE OF IT HAPPENED. and when mike hugged karen i was like, why does he look like he just realized something??? wtf is happening???

i didn't realize there was any romance between mike and will until s4. actually, i heard people saying will was gay and in love with mike and i was like "pshh no way". then i saw the trailer where el says will likes someone and i was like "oh my god they did make him in love with mike". but again, for some strange reason, i felt like it was a decision made solely for s4. VERY stupid of me.

here i go more in depth about my specific reactions to s4 scenes but theres one i didn't mention and it's the way mike looks will up and down when he says "cool". i was like "uhh that was kinda flirty..."

but i finished vol 1 thinking about byler a little more. i heard there was a masterdoc about them so i read it, and for the first bit of it i didn't really believe any of it. then i saw the eyewitness parallel and i was like HHHHWHAAAAAAAT???????????????????? i VIVIDLY remember thinking "how is this possible?? didn't this come out of nowh--" and then it ALL hit me in the face. my jaw literally dropped. it's like i rewatched all of st in 3 seconds and everything made sense. the eyewitness parallel finally made me accept the writers would have gay characters and romance, and that was all it took. i never went back. mike and will's bond in s2, the decline of mike and el's relationship, mike and will's tension in s3, mikes reaction to not possible, mike reaction to el saying i love you, all of it made sense. at that point i was like 17 and my media literacy and love/skill for writing had grown a lot. the very first tiktok i made about byler was about how it doesn't make sense for the writers to build this up for so long just for it not to go anywhere, because it doesn't at all. and things just grew from there. i bled blue and yellow and i still do!

it was almost entirely heteronormativity keeping me from seeing byler earlier, so i talk about that a lot. because once you remove that, EVERYTHING makes perfect sense

#stranger things #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #byler analysis #milkvan bones

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artiststarme · 7 months ago

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The Gift of Not Dying Part 14

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

It's been awhile but hopefully this will get me back in the groove of things. I hope you like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~ Steve watched as the dazzling smile on Eddie’s face dropped to reveal absolute, unadulterated horror. He clearly wasn’t expecting his best friend/tomorrow’s date/future boyfriend to show up at fuck past two in the morning with a bruised face and blood covered sailor’s uniform. Steve could only imagine how he would respond if Eddie had shown up to Hopper's cabin looking like death the way Steve must right now.

“Oh my god, Steve?! What the fuck happened? Are you alright?” Eddie ushered him into the trailer and gently pushed him to a seat on the couch.

Steve didn't know how to respond to him. On the one hand, he didn't want Eddie to worry. On the other hand, nothing would ever be alright again. Hop was dead, his body still stuck in the Russian base under Starcourt where he himself had died multiple times. Steve could feel the throbbing of his broken heart's beats pulsating in his face still. He definitely had a concussion if the double vision and underwater hearing were indicative of anything. Worst of all, it was all Steve's fault. This entire situation never would have happened had he not tempted the universe. He was too happy, he knew everything would fall into catastrophe eventually and he hadn't warned anyone.

So instead of answering his best friend, he pulled at Eddie's shoulders until the man got the message and wrapped him in a warm embrace that smelled of Honeybunches, motor oil, and marijuana. All of Steve's favorite smells that usually calmed him down. But not this time.

He sobbed into Eddie's chest, tears and blood mixing together on his face and soaking into the thin black fabric of Eddie's shirt. Steve just couldn't stop. He cried for the pain he'd gone through in the Russian base and the incessant battery he'd endured at the hands of sadists. He cried for the loss of Robin's normal life and the fact that she would probably hate him now since he'd dragged her into the absolute shit-show that was his life. Most of all though, he cried for Hopper. He cried for his dad that adopted him into his little family and gave him a little sister, the dad that dropped everything to help Steve whenever he needed it.

Poor Eddie just hugged him through it all. He didn't know why Steve had woken him up from a dead sleep at an ungodly hour in the morning only to unveil a face more recognizable as ground beef. He didn't know who had beaten him up or why Hopper wasn't behind him in his truck ready to drag him back to the overprotected cabin in the woods. He didn't need to understand because his best friend was in need of help and a good hug which Eddie could provide.

After what felt like hours of crying, Steve rasped, “Eds, Hop is gone. He died tonight.”

Eddie’s hands stopped their soothing circles on his back and he pulled back to look him in the eyes. There was no joking there, just complete and utter dread and hopelessness in the eye that wasn't swollen shut.

“Chief Hopper died tonight? Are you okay, where are you going to go?” He backtracked for a moment and pulled Steve’s battered body to his gently once more. “I’m sorry for your loss, man. I know the Chief was like a father to you. What’s going to happen now?”

Steve wanted to cry, to scream at the world for being so unfair as to take one of the only people that had ever cared for him. But his eyes were dry and his heart was bone tired after such an arduous night. So instead of sobbing some more or breaking down, Steve shrugged. “I’m going to have to go back to my parent’s house. I can’t stay in Hop’s cabin without him there. And El is going to live with Mrs. Byers. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Eddie shook his head and placed a weary hand on Steve's face. He wanted to give him comfort but with all the blood and bruises on his face, he didn't know where to touch without causing more pain. “You can stay here. Wayne won’t mind as long as we don’t mess with his mug or cap collections. He’s got a habit for taking in strays. Hell, just look at me. You’ll always have a place here.”

Steve couldn’t move in though. Everywhere he went, misfortune followed. He was like a plague, sucking the life out of everything he touched. It started with his parents and he sucked the joy right out of their lives leaving nothing but bitterness and sorrow, certainly not enough love for the disappointment he became. It broke Nancy by killing her best friend and tainting their relationship. Steve should’ve kept his distance from Hop and El but his selfishness won out in the end. And now Hopper was gone. Steve’s plague had struck once again and had stolen his happiness with it. He couldn’t do that to Eddie and Wayne, they’d been through far too much already. They didn’t deserve to deal with him on top of it all.

“Thanks but I don’t want you guys to get sick of me. I’ll just stay at my parent’s house and crash here when they come home. If that’s okay with you and Wayne.”

Eddie shook his head before entwining his fingers with Steve’s. “Of course it is. We’ll worry about that tomorrow. For now, let’s deal with your face. Did you go to the hospital? I can literally see the bruises swelling in front of my eyes. There’s no way you don’t have a concussion right now, why would they let you drive like this?”

“They didn’t, I walked,” Steve corrected distractedly. His mind was reeling over grief and pain, too distracted to abide by the story he was supposed to use.

“Walked from where?”

“Starcourt,” his mouth just kept talking despite his eyes seeing the alarm on Eddie’s face. “The Russians stole my car keys so I couldn’t drive. It’s fine though, I have an extra set in the kitchen of my parent’s house. It was only four miles or so, not too bad in the grand scheme of things. I’ve had worse.”

Eddie just looked at him blankly, too indecisive to decide on concern, horror, or anger at whoever had done this to his friend. He was pretty positive he loved this weirdo, who the fuck had the audacity to keep beating him to a pulp? Couldn't these monsters see how lovable he was?!

“Um, I don’t know how to respond to that. I’m getting my keys and we’re going to the hospital. I don’t need to know what happened, especially since I’m pretty positive that you’re concussed and not making sense. I just need to know you’re okay so we’re going to the ER. Let me just call Wayne and we can go.” Eddie motioned with both hands for Steve to stay still and he did. Even when he heard crashing in Eddie’s room while he looked for his keys and panicked whispers when he finally reached Wayne on the phone, Steve remained in his seat on the old couch.

He knew he didn’t have to go to the hospital, the worst that could happen already had, but he couldn’t reveal that to Eddie. So, he’d bite his tongue and go through the motions. That was his specialty after all. For now, he’d let Eddie take care of him. He would ignore the grief that blackened his soul and the pain that accompanied the thought of his found family breaking apart. He'd deal with the trauma of loss and pain and death sometime later when he could handle a breakdown alone. At this very moment, Steve would hold himself together and lie to his friend and the doctors he was forced to see to keep the Party's secret. He had already dragged Robin into this mess and had probably lost her in the process, he didn't think he could survive losing Eddie too.

Tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @counting-dollars-counting-stars @newtstabber @estrellami-1 @thegoblinboy @manda-panda-monium @i-less-than-three-you @joruni @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mentalcyborg @vampireinthesun @spectrum-spectre @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @nam-draws @anaibis @zerokrox-blog @renaissan-vvitch @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @labels-are-for-the-weak @amoris-no-smut-allowed @5ammi90 @precursorandthedragon @i-must-potato @valinwonderland @lololol-1234 @wonderland-girl143-blog @tailsfromthecrypt @trippypancakes @ghosttotheparty @thing-a-ling @bleach-the-kitten @pyrohonk @carlyv @gregre369 @lololol-1234

@conversesweetheart @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @perseus-notjackson @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @lumoschild @lawrencebshoggoth @devondespresso @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @nohomoyesbi @theseaofdespair @justdrugsformethanks @space-invading-pigeon @audz-aus @mintmont

#Eddie knows something is going on but he only cares about Steve's wellbeing for the moment #Steve thinks he lost Robin but she's just trying to escape the worry of her parents so she can find him wherever he ended up #Poor El just wants to stay with her brother but Joyce is 'protecting' her from the boy she'd only heard bad things about #that doesn't mean she can't stalk him in his head however and she's going to pull a Hopper and give that Eddie boy a talk #wayne is trying to leave work early because good god that Harrington kid has been through enough and he needs him #the gift of not dying #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #chief jim hopper

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noroi1000 · 11 months ago

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F**k your fav 13 - You, and your boyfriend's friend

F**k your fav | ←Previous • Next→

Summary: It finally happened. After watching your boyfriend have sex with his best friend, it was your turn. You started kissing Suguru, then you started undressing. Your boyfriend was watching all this. What was about to happen was obvious... You're going to have sex with Suguru...

A/N: I wrote the last three chapters one after the other, so they may seem short. Just like I ended the previous chapter with the start of sex between Satoru and Suguru, here I went further and ended the smut scene.

Warnings: Geto x reader smut (oral - m!receiving and f!receiving; vaginal sex; cum on body) watching someone having sex; masturbation.

"Suguru, Follow my advice, and she will melt beneath you."

"Same as you?" the dark-haired man laughed, styling his hair.

"I don't have a pussy!"

"But you were moaning. So..."

"You're asking me to hit you!"

"Fine fine! So what are your tips?"

The white-haired man sighed, sitting up straighter on the couch. They had to hurry. After all, they heard you splashing in the bathtub. You could leave soon.

"Well, you already have a big cock, so you don't have to worry about most of it." he said, thinking for a moment. "Eat her pussy and she will be more sensitive. Almost every time after I ate her, she squirted all over my cock. Besides, let her give you a blowjob, and she'll be so wet that even a concrete dam wouldn't keep the river out of her pussy."

"I hate how you talk about the most perverted things calmly, comparing them to things that no one finds arousing..."

"And?"

You were visibly nervous as you sat between his legs on the bed as he lay down, giving you plenty of space between his knees.

Your fingers finally played with the waistband of his boxers as you very gently kissed his cock through the material. You were shy, that was obvious. You finally have a boyfriend, and now you have to fuck someone else. Plus, your boyfriend is sitting in the corner of the room with his dick out.

He wanted to somehow encourage you not to be afraid. After all, it won't be as pleasant as it can be when you're so nervous.

He leaned on his hands to look at you properly.

Satoru was forbidden to speak. If he said something that would embarrass you, it would be bad. So all he could do was sit there and jerk off while watching someone else fuck his girlfriend.

Sure, it turned him on. But he was also a little jealous now that you were lying between another guy's legs, grabbing his cock. All this time, you were only catching his! He wanted you to fuck Suguru. He wanted to see if you felt as comfortable with him as you did with Suguru. He was a bit selfish, thinking that he should be the one lying there now and not Suguru. But he also wanted you to discover new lands. This will be absolutely new for you. And he wanted you to feel as good as you could. Besides, he found out that if you weren't his girlfriend, you would probably fall in love with Suguru. That's why there was nothing so bad about it...

"Baby, you don't have to be afraid. There's nothing wrong with that." He said it with a small smile, waving to you. Looking at your small blush.

That was the only sentence now. And it was very normal. He wanted to convince you to move forward.

You nodded, looking into Suguru's eyes, before swallowing, and with a little help from him, you pulled his boxers down, removing fabric from him.

Up close, Suguru was bigger than it seemed before. So what Satoru had inside him was a really good piece of cock... No wonder even your boyfriend, who had so much stamina during sex, trembled under his thrusts. So even he is sensitive when you approach him properly?

Maybe you should use your dildo on him more often?

But when he was with Suguru, he apparently felt different. This shows that they feel good together. So maybe you should let them fuck you more often? After all, what's going on between them goes back even before your relationship with Satoru.

Maybe when you two are comfortable now, you can give Satoru some more sex with Suguru in the future?

Although you weren't sure if you should consider it normal.

You wrapped your hand around the thick shaft, massaging the hot skin to tentatively place a chaste kiss on his head, licking up some of the precum.

You're not sure what exactly Suguru likes. Satoru sure liked watching you choke on his cock. But from what you could see, Satoru was a little slower when he was in your position. While Satoru received strong, sudden sensations, Suguru received strong but slow sensations. Maybe it's something of his preference? But you also saw him fucking Satoru hard. And it certainly wasn't calm and gentle.

It was powerful and intense.

Satoru always fucked you hard. Quick. All at once. He changes styles to annoy you. But you're sure his favorite was strong. Abuse all the sensitive points in you.

To find out, all you could do was do what you had to do. You lay there and sucked and kissed Suguru's cock, sometimes lowering yourself to lick a stripe from his base to the tip.

Everything about it was right. Both Satoru and him like it.

When you lick like a kitten. Those were Satoru's words.

You wanted to take another hint of what he likes best. But his hand suddenly grabbed your chin, pulling you away from his length.

He pulled your face away to look at him. And in this position, you really felt how he radiated the energy of dominance over you.

"Lie on your back, okay?" He said it with a small smile, sitting up straight and pulling your wrists to make you obey him.

Sitting almost breathless on the bed, you watched as the dark-haired man placed himself under your hips, suddenly opening your legs.

A shiver ran down your spine as he pulled you down slightly, signaling you to go a little lower. You obediently did so, slightly resisting his hands as they spread your thighs open for him.

Suguru was the type who expected obedience. He tells you to do something, so he expects you to do it. While Satoru doesn't wait for obedience, he just keeps going. With Suguru, you feel more pressure than he causes. It turns you on. He dominates you so much. As soon as he says something, you're ready to do it. This is what sets them apart. Satoru is not patient. He may do something unexpectedly and suddenly. He can come up with something, set you up, and move you himself. And Suguru tells you calmly but firmly what he wants from you. And this is a sign that he dominates you and wants to do it all the time. Suguru told you how to position yourself as an order.

You looked to the side at Satoru, whose hand was slowly sliding down his length as he looked at your friend between your legs.

A mouth appeared on your clit, giving you a kind of command. You were supposed to focus on him.

Satoru was right. You were wet as hell. Even though you acted shy, you were so horny for him.

Every time Satoru eats your pussy, you squirt all over his cock? We'll find out soon.

Two fingers press into your wet heat, finding a spot to massage your g-spot.

Apparently it's hard to find, and this is the second man who found it in you the first time and will abuse this place!

Soft moans escaped your lips as you tugged on his bangs lightly as he played with your nub with his tongue and rubbed your sensitive spot with his fingers.

Another difference between Satoru and Suguru.

Satoru would like to make you orgasm and give you the most intense sensations. Suguru slowly and carefully pushes on, doing something to make you a little disappointed, but in the end you get the most intense orgasm.

You feel equally good with both of them. But their technique is different.

You moaned loudly as his fingers unexpectedly dug into your walls, pressing hard against that spot and sucking harshly. Forcing you to orgasm suddenly. And your body complied, sending sparks up your spine as you trembled against his lips and fingers.

By this time, Satoru would probably be smiling and starting to lick up your juices. Suguru didn't pull away from your pussy, lightly flicking his tongue against your clit as he slowly fingered you, letting you come down from your high faster.

The sooner you come to your senses after your orgasm, the sooner he will be able to load you up with his cock.

Only when you stopped shaking did he pull his fingers out of you, letting you rest for less than a minute before he knelt between your thighs, stroking your swollen cock with his hand.

You saw out of the corner of your eye as Satoru moved his chair to get a better view of your pussy, which was about to be loaded with cock. But he didn't speak.

"Are you ready?" Geto asked, lightly rubbing your entrance with his tip.

"... Mhm..." you muttered, looking a little horrified at its width. It was the same when you were to take Satoru inside for the first time.

But since you can do everything with Satoru, there won't be any problems with a dick like that, right?

"Without a condom? So brave." Satoru laughed. "Cum on her, okay? I want to see it."

Satoru's words, although perverted, were fine. You could bear it.

But it was different when you felt the wide tip pressing against the ring of muscle, stretching you to fit inside you.

You're really doing it...

You can take it. It will fit inside. You can take Satoru, so Suguru won't be a problem either. It just seems that they are so big! They are just very tall! And you seem smaller next to them! But it doesn't change the fact that their dicks are also big!!!

You moaned loudly into your hand as he reached the end. You placed your hand on your stomach. You knew he was there. You didn't feel him as deeply as Satoru did. But he stretched you more. And it was as overwhelming as with Satoru...

You lose track of time lying there with your legs on either side of his hips. That's why you didn't know how long it had been since you were lying there and getting used to him.

"Can I move?" he asked you, holding your knee.

You nodded, giving permission.

And he didn't regret it. His hand pushed your knee closer to your chest, giving him better access and also giving Satoru a better view.

You were so tight and hot. No matter how he moved, you still pulled him in.

And slamming his hips against yours, he growled softly, enjoying your moans. You held his shoulders, trembling. He now knew how Satoru felt inside you. It's a divine feeling... You're so damn tight...

Even though Satoru was doing a lot to your pussy, you would still remain just as tight.

Satoru laughed and said that your pussy was the same as at the beginning. And after he had fucked you a few times, he thought you were still a virgin because you were still just as tight. But you take big cocks like his so well.

His plan was to stuff your pussy into his shape. So that he will feel crazy about you. But he didn't know if it would be better to have you this tight. It's the perfect feeling when you squeeze him and suck him inside.

Suguru also felt so good.

It wasn't long before you came underneath him, murmuring his name as you tightened around him.

And your grunts caused Satoru to stand up, struggling quickly. And he moved towards your body as Suguru continued to thrust into your heat to spill his load onto your chest and watch how it all flowed over you. That was right.

The sight of you covered in cum was fucking beautiful.

So Geto added more to your stomach so they could watch, stewing over your sweaty, wet body.

Next time, you'll be dealing with two cocks at once...

The last chapter is coming soon. Something I'm excited about but terrified of. Because the first and last chapters are the hardest to write. I don't want to disappoint anyone with a poorly written last chapter.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #jjk x you #gojo x reader #gojo #geto suguru #jjk x reader #geto x reader smut #geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #f**k your fav

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thalialunacy · 7 months ago

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[for the @calaisreno Prompts May-hem (get it?!); cw for more violence than I usually do, ymmv. Also I have a feeling this one shows my American-ness more than most, so uh, sorry? ^^;]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) 15: nightmare (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

'This,' John mutters to himself as he eyes the flashing red on the departures board, 'is a bloody nightmare.'

Sherlock frowns beside him. 'We're being shunted to a less direct route. Inconvenient, but hardly the stuff to disturb one's sleep.'

John closes his eyes momentarily. By and large, he's a good fit for Sherlock's behaviours, even when they're--especially when they're?--somewhat off the beaten path. But sometimes he doesn't have the energy. He just doesn't.

They've been on a literally cold case in Nowhereton, Bumfuckshire, and although the jewellery was found and no one was hurt John could absolutely murder a home-brewed cup of tea. And he would very much like to hold his daughter.

'Don't worry, John, you'll be home to her soon,' Sherlock says to him as they board the overstuffed train. They're not the only ones whose night has been sidetracked, literally, but John's empathy is thin on the ground as he jostles his way to two open seats, fantasising about going for a rugby tackle if someone else gets their first.

Sherlock ends up doing the tackling, though, because he gives not one damn about how train passengers view him. And it's not really a tackle, just a Very Cold Look. And maybe a thrown elbow.

Amused, at least a little, John takes his seat.

They manage to get an hour in before it all goes to hell.

---

The sound of the train car sliding over something besides tracks is the first thing that happens -- and really it's more of a feeling than a sound, somehow.

At first.

'Sherlock,' John says quietly, his stomach twisting. 'What was that?'

'Likely just--'

But Sherlock is interrupted by a great dirty shake, like the train is a snake trying to shed its skin in a big ugly hurry.

'Shit,' John mutters, feeling adrenaline flood his system. 'Hang on to something.'

---

John doesn't wait until the dust clears; he's out of his seat and beating his way through the door at the end of the car the second there's stillness beneath him. Their coach is still on the tracks, but he somehow knows that those ahead of them are not so lucky.

The emergency lights are on, but they're flickering and John has to squint as he makes his way through. His gaze sweeps around and he listens hard, but everyone in the car seems to be suffering from merely shock, bumps and bruises, minor things.

The next car is where shit gets real. The angles are all wrong, and he can see several people tangled in an awful unnatural embrace with metal pieces popped out from seats and side rails.

'Jesus,' he hears himself mutter. 'This is not ideal.'

Sherlock is right behind him, which he'd known but not paid any attention to. 'Triaging a hoard of exhausted people in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere with no avenues of immediate escalation?'

'Yeah, like I said. Not ideal.'

Sherlock opens his mouth, but John has no time for whatever witticism is about to be gifted upon the world, so he steps away from the detective and further into the chaos.

He raises his voice, but tries to keep it calm. 'Hello, everyone. My name is John, I'm a medical doctor, and I'm here to help.'

---

It's a long fucking night. Four dead, a couple dozen injured. One cannot save them all.

---

Hours later, the sun peeking over the horizon and Molly sacked out on the couch, he's about to pivot onto the staircase to his room when Sherlock puts a hand on his elbow. 'Let's wash up first,' he says, voice low and firm. 'Your daughter doesn't need to see you covered in blood, even if it's someone else's.'

'God damn it,' John mutters, knowing Sherlock is right but hating it; his skin itches with the need to see his little girl. 'Fine, but quick-like.'

He sheds his jacket and button down, which had got the brunt of it, on the way to the toilet, then barely looks at himself in the mirror as he runs a flannel over his face and scrubs at his hands. Sherlock is quiet beside him, handing him soap and cloth when needed, without prompting.

John finishes, then looks up at him. 'Aren't you coming?'

Sherlock's face-- well, It does something very complicated before smoothing out into a small smile. 'All right, let's.'

---

Anticlimactically, Rosie barely stirs when John picks her up. His limbs are finally able to shake out the events of the last twelve hours, and he feels Sherlock's arms around him and beneath her like a bridge truss, supporting them both.

John breathes in deeply, taking in the scent of his daughter and his flatmate. His-- his family, he thinks, trying the word out.

'Stay,' he says quietly, not looking away from Rosie. 'Just-- Stay?'

Sherlock hums for a moment, then answers like it was never in question. 'Of course.'

They don't consider pyjamas, instead curling around each other's dusty skin in pants and vests while murmuring about inconsequential things, domestic things that send warmth spiralling through John to replace the chill that had settled in somewhere during the journey they've just finished.

'I do have one question,' Sherlock says finally, the words warming the skin at John's neck.

'Go on.'

'As you know, many common understandings about the English language, particularly when it comes to colloquialisms, are not part of my… erm, base worldview.'

'Right, I am aware.'

'So I'd like to confirm: When you called the train delay a nightmare, you were exaggerating for humour, and when you called the derailment "not ideal," you were…'

John chuckles tiredly. 'Being English.'

'Being facetious.'

'Yes.' He pauses, fingers in Sherlock's mildly tangled hair. 'Sometimes, it's all that gets you from one moment to the next. One body to the next.'

Sherlock murmurs a noise, and John feels his embrace tighten.

'Well,' the detective finally says, voice deep and sleepy. 'Besides all that, I really must say that watching you in action was quite... informative.'

'Oh? In what way?'

'Informing me that I find your medical competency viscerally pleasing.'

John huffs a surprised breath. 'Yeah?'

'Mm-hmm. You're very good, and it's very attractive.'

'Noted,' John murmurs, eyes closed. 'Next time.'

'Mm-hmm.' Sherlock's palm is warm on his solar plexus, and John doesn't think twice as he succumbs to a deep, quiet sleep.

[❤️]

[a/n- I have not been in a derailment, but I have been in a train car when it ran over a live human being going 70mph, so forgive me for not being keen to research the former for the sake of accuracy.]

ETA OH GOD I forgot the best part! My inspiration for this piece:

#BBC Sherlock #May Prompts 2024 #mayprompts2024 #It's gonna be MAY 2024 #kind of a downer despite starting as a funny tweet #Very British Problems

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 8 months ago

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Random Facts About Joan

Bayverse!Raphael x reader

All Children Minerva Ragnar

A/N: Just thought it would be fun to give you a small list of things about each kid, and I hope you guys will find it just as fun❤️

Warnings: None❤️

The name Joan was sort of Raphael’s idea, with a good input from you. Raph would really like to name his children after strong warrior’s but came up short on names. That led you to the name Joan, after Joan of Arc. The patron saint that defended the French nation, who became a military leader. Raph found it fitting, citing that he and his brothers were named after renaissance painters, it made sense to name his first daughter after a martyr from the 1400’s.

Resting bitch face? That is Joan’s standard mode. She’s really inherited her father’s default scowling expression, narrowed eyes and downturned mouth. Paired with the crossing of her arms, she really looked like a small twin to her father.

As per tradition, when Joan turned 15, Splinter granted her a weapon that would serve her the best throughout her life, based on her preferences, her skills and her personality. Her chosen weapon was a pair of kusari-fundo. Chains with weights at the ends. And boy is she good at using them. Romeo was shocked when she almost pulled his odachi out of his hands, just by wrapping one of her chains around the blade.

Joan HATES messes. Especially in her room. She can’t take it. Her room is always clean, and she rarely lets people in there (all though it has happened that people snuck their way in. Looking at Dorothy here…), because she can’t take the thought of people messing up her things. Just don’t touch her things, unless you wish to lose a finger.

When Joan turned 13, your husband decided it was a good idea to get your first born a punching bag, especially after seeing how much she liked to use his. And that turned out to be an amazing idea, with Joan wanting it set up in her room the moment she got it.

Raph’s old boxing gloves? They’re Joan’s now. She got them/stole them, so that she could practice on her own punching bag.

It is no secret that Joan is a tough one. Actually, she might even be tougher than her own father, with an absolute iron will. Back when Joan was a young, half human half mutant turtle toddler, there was no such thing as Joan moving in order to get to Raph. No, Raph would have to move in order to get to her. She could be standing on the other side of the room, locking eyes with your husband when he was sitting on the couch, and then raise her arms, letting him know that she wanted him to carry her to the couch. And guess what, Raph would do it. Which later on would cause a lot of troubles with your second born, but that is not what we’re talking about today.

Okay, maybe Joan isn’t the toughest cookie in the world, but she is damn tough. But, she does have guilty pleasures that could be classified as more “soft”. Joan is secretly a big fan of Twilight. She has all the books and all the movies, and will watch them in her room in secret. But how did she get those books and movies without anybody knowing? Well, you’ll have to ask Joan about that.

But Joan’s absolute devastation, there was a time where Dorothy came bursting into her room, looking for a hiding spot, right in the middle of Breaking Dawn part 1. And that was how Dorothy came to know of her cousin's secret, promising not to tell anyone… if she could borrow the movies whenever she wanted to.

Ooooooooh! Who often sneaks out to the city at night? Joan does that! Who does it even if her father says it’s bad? Joan does that! But doesn’t care because humans are fun. Joan does that! And at 20 has a boyfriend from above? Joan does that!

Now back to some more family oriented. Joan LOVES spending time with her grandparents. She could be drinking tea with Master Splinter before one on one training, or spend the weekend with your parents, and she would be having the time of her life.

To most people, tough cookie Joan might seem unapproachable, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Well, that was if you knew her. As the oldest of three, she tended to be protective of her younger siblings. With a four year difference between her and Minerva, and a seven year difference between Joan and Ragnar, it was natural for her to take on a parental role at times. Even if it wasn’t needed with you and Raph around. It did happen from time to time, each time because Joan wanted what was best for her younger siblings.

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lavendersugarplum · 4 months ago

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I‘M JUST COMING ON HERE TO SAY THAT SEASON 4 WAS SO ASS!!

LIKE WHO WROTE THE SCRIPT?! FANFIC WRITERS?

I'm beyond relieved that I had already decided to rewrite this season to salvage Zero's character because there's no way I'm accepting this garbage as canon.

Let's be real - Seasons 1 and 2 were the peak of this show. Everything went downhill from Season 3, but I foolishly held out hope that they'd turn it around. Boy, was I wrong. This season was straight up ASS. To be honest, I might even do a season three rewrite as well.

No Sloane? No Umbrella Ben? Don't even get me started on how they literally RUINED Five's character. Five would NEVER betray his brother like that. I can guarantee you that Zero would absolutely hate him this season. Honestly, she would've already checked out from the family as soon as they arrived in that new reality. Him falling in love with Lila was so out of character and almost disgusting to me, because you've known this dude ever since he was in a 13-year-old body. It's just weird to me. I just can't believe that this franchise would ruin probably the most loved character in the fandom. And then they went and made the last part all about his feelings.

Like mother like daughter, I guess. I've never liked Lila's character in the first place, but this season just solidified my stance. She was basically used as a shipping tool. She was already a Mary Sue before. I was just starting to warm up to her in season three because I already had predicted that we were basically stuck with her. They basically turned her into Y/N, and not the likeable kind. That love triangle was completely unnecessary and poorly executed. JUSTICE FOR DIEGO. He should've ended up with Eudora. They should've revived her somehow.

They completely abandoned plot threads from the end of Season 3. What happened to Allison's husband? What about Ben in the subway? And Luther's search for Sloane? It's like they forgot their own story.

The ending was so full with plot holes. They conveniently ignored the existence of other children born from the marigold, which was a crucial part of Lila's backstory. If the timelines are bleeding together, these other children should have caused major issues. The show's always had continuity problems, but ignoring a fundamental part of the story's premise is just inexcusable.

The Jennifer and Ben storyline was a complete waste of time. In previous seasons, they took care to develop new characters like Sloane, and the new Ben in Season 3. Jennifer's story was so rushed and disconnected that I couldn't bring myself to care about her at all. They ditched Sloane for THIS?! Ben's attachment to her made no sense either. It's a terrible way to create an end-of-timeline scenario with a character no one knows or cares about due to lack of screen time.

Killing off the entire cast in the finale is an enormously risky move that can backfire. You need a rock-solid narrative reason and the audience's complete buy-in to pull this off. The Umbrella Academy failed miserably. It felt rushed and lazy, like they couldn't be bothered to explore any other options. We've seen Victor extract the Marigold from Harlan before, so the alternatives DO EXIST.

Klaus's character was criminally underutilized. This dude ALWAYS came through for his family in the end. This time, his character was completely wasted. And don't even get me started on how Allison gets a free pass after all the horrible things she did after they treated Viktor like crap, for the whole third season.

This season was an insult to fans who have invested time and emotion into this show. It's clear the writers have lost their way and have no idea how to properly conclude this story. I'm beyond disappointed and frustrated with how they've ruined what was once a promising series. In Netflix, a series is either canceled or they F up the franchise. They should've just left this show at three seasons and ended it anonymously. Can't believe we waited two years for this?

#the umbrella academy #umbrella acedmy #tua #season 4 #final season #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #viktor hargreeves

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milesandcorysupermacy · 8 months ago

Note

can you do a fic we’re y/n is miles(doesn’t matter which one) little sister who can lowkey sing but denies it

HEEEEEY, POOKIE! So ik I took long to answer ur request but u inspired me to write again because I can actually relate to this 😭

---------------x-o-x-o--------------------------

"Mariposa"

1610!Miles x Younger-SISTER-Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Cursing, Reader is 13, Miles is 15, Me not knowing anthing about the music industry, Not spell checked bc im lazy, Reader recorded without her consent (it'll make sense, I promise 😭)

Songs that were used: 'In Your Hands' By Halle, and 'Hailey's Comet' By Billie Eilish

Summary: You've always thought you could sing well, but you never considered it was exceptionally well. When you're confronted with other people's opinions on your singing, you start to change your mind. Can you really sing?

Taglist:

@we-loveebony

@im-miss-simp

@ilovespiderverseee

@maxoloqy

@edgyficuselastica

@thehighlordishere

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You walked into your kitchen, humming the soft melodies of the Billie Eilish song playing in your shared airpod with your older brother, Miles.

"Hey, you wanna order tacos? Your treat, by the way."

You turn to him, confused from this comment since he usually pays. You hate to admit anything nice about him, but one thing you can say is...he's a gentleman.

"Why am I paying?"

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe this will jog your memory."

Your over-dramatic sibling says as he points to a scar on his left cheek. You sheepishly chuckle as you scratch the back of your neck, embarrassed. The scar he's referring to is from two days ago when you threw scissors at him.

"Oh, right. In my defense, I thought your spidey senses would make you catch it."

Miles gasped.

"HOW?!?!!? I was holding sketches! If you thought I would drop my precious babies for some scissors...you clearly don't know me, mother's other child."

He said, not referring to you by name anymore. You rolled your eyes as you threatened him with the worst thing of all...no food.

"Well, if you're not even referring to me by name anymore, I guess you don't want any tacos!"

Miles immediately frowned, gasping from your threat.

"No! I love you my most beautiful, sweet, elegant sister! I still want the tacos! Make mine carne asada, please!"

You rolled your eyes at his willingness to switch up so easily. You sighed, opening your Uber Eats app to find the closest taco place.

"What a drag to love you like I do, ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh"

You sang quietly along to the infectious melodies of Billie Eilish's 'Hailey's Comet'. Miles just stared at you, stunned. He's never heard you sing unless you were joking around, but right now he could've sworn you were a Grammy-nominated artist. He let this keep going on until the song ended, still staring at you while you absent-mindedly look into your phone. Not noticing him staring daggers into the side of your face.

"Ok, I placed the orde-"

"You sounded really good just now, why didn't you tell anyone you could sing like that?"

You stared at him bug-eyed, not knowing how to respond to all this sudden attention on you. Being the younger sister of Miles Morales, you just kinda got used to flying under his radar. I mean, he's a *almost* Straight A student, exceptionally good at art, a superhero, and he's in one of the most prestigious schools in Brooklyn. How could you even compete with that?

You're just a 13 year old girl who passes all her classes to keep her and her parents sane, and pretty much nothing after that. You acknowledged this hidden talent, but immediately compared yourself to other singers and realized that you would get crushed in that audition room. You weren't some Beyonce waiting to happen, you were just a girl. A girl who has absolutely no idea what she's doing.

"Why? What do you mean why, Miles? Have you heard all the other singers out there? Dude, I would get fucking crushed the moment I let out the first note. Not just that, but you're so obviously mom and dad's favorite. I mean, every time I come home with a B I feel like an idiot compared to you. You're just better than me, and everyone knows it. I fly under your radar, Miles. Every time that you, mom, or dad introduce me to somebody, you guys always say Miles' little sister. Face it, dude. I can't compare to you."

Miles felt his heart shatter hearing your words. As a big brother, his job was to protect you. How could he do that when he was causing the problem himself? He never looked down on you, he was proud to have you as a sister and he couldn't believe that you felt this way about yourself. What made it even worse was the fact that you started crying, he immediately sprung into action when he saw the tears falling. He engulfed you in a hug, feeling extremely guilty.

"I'm so sorry, Mariposa. I never even realized that the family was downplaying you like this, you're incredible and deserve to be seen as such."

You felt a smirk coming onto your lips from the nickname that he called you, referring to your Halloween costume from 10 years ago. Small moments like this made you realize that you had a brother who loved you, and would talk to you about anything. That's all that matters, right? You and him against the world...well, maybe just him. (Give the man credit, he's literally spiderman.)

"It's fine, I'm sorry to drop all of this on you. I feel like I kinda overreacted."

You awkwardly chuckled as Miles look at you like you were a woman gone mad.

"Why are you sorry? I'm glad you brung it up, now I can be more aware whenever I see it happen again. The fact that you feel like you're always under my radar is even more of a reason to get yourself out there! Who knows, I mean maybe Mami and Dad could hire you a manager. We're in New York, this IS industry city."

You thought about the idea for a second and honestly, it sounded great at first. Then you started to realize that you were 13, about to graduate 8th grade, and have no experience in vocal training. The once great idea started to sound like a complete fail.

"While I appreciate your excitement, Miles. I'm barely a high schooler, and have no experience. If I were to make it in the industry, it be pure luck!"

You waved him off as he was walking around you in a circle, spewing ideas. Starting to become annoyed with how invested he truly is in your life, a blessing and a curse.

"Well maybe if we go to the mall and-"

"What? No, that's so idiotic."

"Well, if you can open for an artist's tour-"

"How am I gonna do that with my middle class, Afro-Hispanic family in Brooklyn, New York?"

"Well, I got a few piggy bank-"

Miles was thankfully interrupted by a notification from your phone saying that the tacos were downstairs at the front desk.

"Thank fuck."

You whispered as the notification saved you from hearing any more of Miles' idiotic ideas.

"Miles, you mind going to get it?"

"Yea, just gimme a sec."

He says as he puts his shoes on, but that's really just a cover for his plan. He decided to play one of your favorite songs right now, 'In Your Hands'. He did this since he knew you wouldn't be able to resist singing it, especially since nobody else is around. While he's downstairs, he left his phone recording in the apartment so that he could catch your angelic voice and show it to his parents. Great plan....well, at least he hopes so.

~Timeskip~

While you and Miles play Wii Bowling on the living room TV, (you were beating his ass btw) your parents walk in. You both greet them and help with groceries, you then decide that you wanted to take a shower and exit the room. This gives Miles time to execute his plan!

(We're gonna pan over to Miles' scene bc I'm not. writing about you taking a boring ass shower.)

"Ok, we have like 40 mins until she's done with her nightly routine."

Miles says very suspiciously which causes his parents to feel concerned about him.

"Miles, buddy. You alright? I hope you're not sick or anything."

Jeff says as he cautiously touches Miles' forehead. His mother begins to chime in with the concern too.

"Yeah, you do look kinda pale."

Rio says, also touching the poor boy's face.

"He does, doesn't he? I'm glad I wasn't the only one noticing-"

"I'm not pale, I'm very pigmented!"

Miles whisper shouts. His parents back off with their hands up in a surrendering motion.

"Anyway, I wanted to show you guys a video of Y/N that I took. I know it sounds weird, but it's a video of her singing. It sounds really nice and I want her to have a talent of her own since everyone compares us."

His parents smile with approval and appreciation of how nice your brother was being towards you right now.

"Well, show us whatcha got!"

Rio says, enthusiastically. Miles opens his camera app and plays the video, immediately smiling at your perfect voice as you sing the melodic notes of the song.

"In your Hands, in your hands.

You can't let go or you'll lose your chance.

'Cause after me, you'll never fall in love again, la-la-la."

You melodically sung along to the song ans your parents stared at the phone with shock. They listened to the whole 3 minute video and smiled the whole way through, stunned by your almost perfect vocals.

"Wow...I can't believe that's my baby girl singing!"

Rio said, bewildered.

After some time, you finally walk out the bathroom with your pajamas and a towel on your head. Your family just stared at you with shock as you walked toward the kitchen for water.

"What? Am I not supposed to drink this water or something?"

"Girl, where'd you learn to sing like that?"

You furrowed your eyebrows at your dad, believing he's truly lost it this time.

"What are you talking about?"

Miles smiled cheekily at you as he played the video of your singing. You immediately grew embarrassed as you felt your face heat up and eyes widen.

"Miles, I'll kill you!"

You shouted as you charged towards your older brother who hid behind his mom.

"Baby, this is great! We signed you up for vocal lessons and even got you a meeting with a manager tomorrow, that's...if you say yes, of course."

Your mom trailed off.

"You better say yes, this stuff wasn't cheap!"

Jeff complained as your mom shot him a glare.

"Fine, I'll do it."

You said as you smiled from your families interest in you and your interests. You and your family conversed on some logistics and commitments that you will have to make for this newfound hobby. With that, there was just one more question to ask...

"So, what will your artist name be? We need a name to put on the email to the record label."

You looked up at your older brother and smiled before saying...

"Mariposa."

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THIS IS ITTT 🤑🤑

The first post after my lil hiatus 🤧

Anyway, I hope yall liked it and thanks to the anon who sent this, ima answer the other request I got too!

💞💞

#miles morales #across the spiderverse #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles morales #miles morales fluff #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x sister!reader #miles x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #singer #women in music

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