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

bosbas · 4 months 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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followthebluebell · 23 days ago

Note

Who are the current roster of residents at your work? I know Roomba is, and that there are at least two Persians, but I can't keep them straight in my head. Q was a resident but then got adopted?

My current residents are:

Roomba (bengal - 13-15? years old, blind, female)

VERY LOUD; loves kittens, waffles wildly between loving adult cats or absolutely hating them. Sometimes to the same cat. She adores Maddie the most and will try to cuddle up to her as much as possible but since Maddie has been going into the Impossible Zone (the couch upstairs) lately, Roomba has been cozying up to Pookie.

Has lymphoma but we're trying to make her time comfortable. She's got a severe sensitivity to poultry and fish, so her food has to be beef, venison, lamb, rabbit, pork, or goat. Her favorite is lamb. On her good days, she likes to play fetch with her favorite purple plastic ball or green spring. I don't know why those are her favorites. She just plays with them longer than any of the other plastic balls or springs.

She's usually found in the office/kitchen.

Butterscotch (persian - 3? years old, blind, male; misaligned jaw)

Looks ancient, is actually a young man. He is permanently scrungly. He likes to play with pieces of garbage. He's got plenty of actual cat toys to play with, but he just wants to play with the little plastic wrap that comes off the tops of bottles and such. He's VERY sweet to people; he mostly ignores other cats. If another cat sleeps by him, he's fine. He just doesn't really seek them out.

His jaw is misaligned, which makes his face look even stranger than a typical persian's. We're not sure what happened to it. It may just be a birth defect, it may be a broken jaw that never healed right. It doesn't seem to bother him TOO much, but it does mean his face needs extra cleaning.

He doesn't like any wet food, except for sardines. Otherwise, he likes the cronch. He likes to sleep in exclusively uncomfortable places.

Pookie (british shorthair - 1 year old, female, FIV+)

VERY playful and outgoing. She likes to greet anyone who walks in. People are delighted by her. They think she's the best thing either (they are not wrong). She's cat social, but doesn't really want to play with other cats. She just likes to exist around them.

She's a menace in the office. She's learned that if the phone goes off, someone will sit down at the desk and she can annoy them until they pet her. She knocks things off the desk too and thinks it's a lot of fun to play with and rip up pages in the appointment book.

She's generally found in the office or on the front couch.

Penelope (persian, 2-3? years old, female)

Also outgoing, but much more relaxed. Penelope mostly wants to sit on someone's lap. Her favorite toys are crinkle balls--- the little cellophane ones--- and tunnels. She likes to sit at the edge of a tunnel and bat at feet as people walk past. She also likes pens, especially if someone is using one.

She likes to sit in the office chair. I think it's because she knows someone will sit there eventually and have no choice but to let her sit on their lap, but also she doesn't have very many brain cells, so I'm not sure she can fully conceptualize that sort of plan.

She tends to pick a new Favorite Place every week.

Maddie (persian, 12-13? years old, female)

Winner of the 'Are you alive...?' contest two years running. She's a picky eater and will only eat things that she sees Roomba eating. I'm not sure they recognize the other as 'alive'. Maddie adores people, as long as they aren't trying to brush her. Then she grudgingly tolerates them for a few minutes at a time before deciding to go somewhere else.

She's permanently snotty. She's been tested for many, MANY things to ensure it's not contagious--- the vet's guess is that a fungal infection caused a severe allergic reaction which resulted in nasal polyps. Combined with her very tiny nostrils, she's got some permanent drip going on there. It's... unclear whether or not surgery is a wise option. She's a senior cat, a persian, and already has breathing problems :/ We might just have to wipe her face frequently.

She's not a fan of that either, for the record.

I'm hoping that Penelope and Pookie will go up for adoption one day. There's literally no reason why they could not be adopted and I'd prefer to keep the office pet slots for cats that cannot be rehomed for behavioral or health reasons.

#roomba #butterscotch #pookie #penelope #maddie #work

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dragonshoardofworks · 22 days ago

Text

Reincarnation Everlasting Trio Part 2 (DPxDC)

(The flu is kicking my ass, so I decided to fight back by publishing this! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ ...At least I'm at home and not at work? Small victories... And please don't hate me...!)

Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here) | Part 3 | Part 4

Gotham's second third best kept secret after the locations (and their related secrets) of the BatCave and Danny's resting place is the Stolon.

In the most hidden crypt under the corpse of the oldest greenhouse ever built in the gothic city, there's a thick net of roots and vines that cover every inch of the marmored chamber. Like a protective shell or a vegetal Fort Knox, the crypt enshrines Undergrowth’s (the Ancient of the Flora) most precious gift to the Green (their living offspring): the Gynaeceum, a cocoon-like structure capable of generating either an offspring or an avatar for the Green to inhabit and walk on Earth.

But since Professor Pamela Isley is an excellent avatar for them already, the Green doesn’t feel the need for a body at the moment, buuuut… conveniently their Parent loaned them a soul to look after recently and Poison Ivy deserved a reward and, let’s say, an incentive to keep pursuing her beloved Harleen Quinzel…

So, why not incubate the loaned soul with the DNA of both Pamela and Harley in the Gynaeceum? It’d be a huge success for everyone!

The soul, however, wasn't agreeing very much with the idea (like the rebellious goth child that she still is) and had to be coaxed through the stages until proper development, let's say until puberty begins to kick in for a standard human body, so around 8-13 years old, so the body had to stay in the cocoon until that age.

So after a “natural” test tube pregnancy of 10 years, Antheia was born as a pre-teen, right before the newly wed Pam and Harley, who were called there by the Green.

The two Sirens were taken aback by (but not averse of) the gift after the shock settled and they got an explanation as to why and how all of this happened.

(The only reason they didn't go apeshit on the Green for basically doing the same thing Lex Luthor did with Superman to make Connor was that Pam knows that the Green doesn't have the same set of morality and values that humans do, plus they don't even think in the same way, so she understood even if at the beginning she was a bit miffed for not being asked. Harley, since she trusts her wife, suspended her judgement until Pam explained the Green's reasoning and way of thinking. If she also can't hate the child because she somewhat feels familiar, it's another thing that she doesn't voice to anyone… And… she's so disappointed for having missed so much of her new baby's life! They could have visited during the gestation and human contact could have made the soul more cooperative and so have it latch earlier on their new body and so get birthed earlier!)

Antheia was mentally on the level of a newborn, but catches on quickly and in just 2 years or so she’s already behaving like (and with the knowledge of) her physical age.

Pam and Harley absolutely love her to pieces and don’t-call-me-by-my-full-name Thea shares the sentiment. Both women have different connections with their daughter, tho: Ivy through Green’s powers and shared beliefs on nature and Harley by being fiercely protective of what they consider their own, not accepting (anymore) abuse by anyone.

[After failing to “cure” the Joker and falling into his clutches/partial insanity in her origin story, Quinn did kill people, but only criminals, as inexplicably something always stopped her from harming civilians and innocents. And while the Joker did punish these lacks, he still considered her useful, so he used her only where she was able to act. When and why did Harley finally manage to renounce everything about him, then? During the nth escape from Arkham, on a whim she went and checked her mail kept in the asylum deposit during the years. An enthusiastic letter from a girl in Illinois struck so many chords in her that made Harley say to herself: “Wtf am I even doing with my life?? This isn’t what I wanted to be!” And so proceeded to go and beat the everliving shit out of the Joker as he was starting to do the same with the newest and second Robin in one of Gotham warehouses, where the latter had been lured to. Having called Bruce (since she had figured out his identity a while ago because of knowing each other in med school), he rushed Jason to the ICU (remember the kinder timeline I mentioned in the previous post?) and managed to save him in time and the Joker got back to Arkham for a while longer than usual…]

The attitude that Thea inherited from her mothers (once 12) leads her to at first trying to sneak out and follow them in their night time activities of “anti-heroes”, but thanks to the Green, she always gets caught. After one too many times of that, the Sirens cave in and decide that it will be better to teach her the ropes and make her their sidekick, since it’s safer than letting her go solo and they can’t really stop her (much like Bruce does with all his Robins, tbh. (≧∇≦) )

During one of these escapades/missions, it was inevitable that the latest (the fourth, since it's been a while since Harley saved Jason) Robin and Thea (codename: Blossom) meet… and pick on each other like cat and dog.

The rest of the BatFam places so many bets on them, with Steph and Dick comparing them to Bruce and Selina, but with violence as a love language. Jason and Tim just hope that they won't tear each other out (since they got the burnt of Damian's hostility back when he came at the Wayne Manor, but without the canonical murder attempts, since Jason is still in rehabilitation and Tim had openly stated from the beginning that he was subbing in for the Robin role until the former got better to get back on the street if he wanted).

(Tim, in this, prefers to be the tech guy much more, with only some brawl in the mix, like Oracle’s assistant that does what Babs cannot anymore. The timeline is still kinder, since, while Babs won't recover the 100% of her functionality, she can still walk with a cane.)

Then it all changes when Phantom, or better, Danny joins in the mix. He and Damian!Tucker have so much to catch up with that they're practically joined to the hip and that leads to not meeting Blossom while they’re on patrol since they take different routes than usual.

Hearing the rumor of a new meta vigilante and the sightings of him only with Robin, absolutely doesn’t stir any jealousy in Thea (note the sarcasm) and so to set things straight with her rival, Blossom calls a favor with her mom to arrange a meeting with Batman and Robin. Harley is super amused by the whole thing, so she accepts only on the condition of chaperoning the whole thing (plus B wouldn’t come “just for Blossom”, she has to be there as well!)

In order to keep things civil (as a contingency plan agreed by both B and Harley), they meet on the roof of a Batburger (the highest one where no one could overhear them and it’s away from the plants), only the four of them. (They get Alfred distract Danny by asking him to do chores with him since “he’s getting old” *cough*BS*cough* and our boi is so eager to help/people-please.)

Blossom and Harley are already there when the Bats arrive and the former is already glaring at the boy.

“So? Where did you leave your new pet?” Blossom demands, looking around.

“He’s not my pet!” Robin snaps, hackles raised.

“Then how come he’s following you around like a puppy, uh? Bet he’s at your beck and call”

“Don’t talk about him like he’s a thing! His parents already did that enough back when they were alive, so don’t you dare, allochthonous species!” Blossom gasps in outrage, since it’s an (ecology) insult he learned from her.

“So this is just a crusade to fix the new stray while forgetting your duty? Where were you when we busted that exotic animal smuggling ring? You abandoned us!”

Hit hard by the guilt trip, Robin is quick to recover, though. “You managed just fine, didn’t you? I couldn’t leave him, as there’s no one other than me who’s able to deal with his breakdowns!” He snaps, then centers himself and frowns at her. “What’s your deal, by the way, dudette? You didn’t act like this when I collaborated lengthily with Superboy Jr.”

Getting the whiplash from the unfamiliar slang mixed with formal language, Blossom recoils, as a wave of vertigo hits her. Wtf was that?? She focuses back on the topic, steeling herself. “That ‘Supersons’ thing was nowhere near what’s happening here. You changed so much that I can barely recognize you. So don’t feed me this BS! What happened that made you leave me behind?”

Oh. That’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it? Before Danny’s return and the subsequent recovery of his memories as Tucker, Robin and Blossom had been vigilante partners whenever they teamed up, sometimes even more in sync than with Batman. But how to lay out gently that she’s partially right but he hasn’t meant to? It’s then that Tucker Foley’s famous nonexistent mouth-filter strikes, subverting anything Damian Wayne has ever learned about tact. “Hey, it’s not my fault! You would change too if the guy you like kissed you out of the blue!” He blurts.

(In the background Batman facepalms, hard, Harley gasps and the BatFam cackles in the comms, as Oracle is making them eavesdrop.)

“...So that’s how it is.” A pause, then rage. “You led me on!”

“Wha- Never!” The Tucker in him is still on the reins. “Circumstances changed and I swear I didn’t mean to stop thinking of you! It was a blast from the past, literally, that I had no idea it was available to me!”

“Oh so now it's because of your tragic backstory that you're dumping me? I thought we were partners in crime!”

“We still are, it doesn't have to be mutually exclusi-” Damian!Tucker begins, hotly, only to be interrupted by an alarm going off in the comms.

Everybody tenses as Oracle starts to interject. «Arkham just noticed that the Joker has escaped, they have a hole of two hours in the security tapes!»

«I’m tracking his goons as we speak, it seems that they gathered so much C4 that they could celebrate the Fourth of July!» Hiereus (priest in Greek, helper of the Oracle, new name I choose for Tim instead of Red Robin) informs them, sound of the keyboard being smashed in the background.

“Where are the bombs?” B demands, tense, ready to grapple at a moment's notice, while the other three get ready too.

«Still searching, still searching… here! All the Batburgers’ roofs.» There's a pause of appropriate horror, before they all register the sentence. «B get out of ther-»

You know what they say about any kinder timeline?

The more you have to lose (the taller they stand)...

BOOOOOOM!

…The harder you (they) fall.

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jiminjamms · 9 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."

last chapter || next chapter

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!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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witchthewriter · 11 days ago

Text

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐬, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐬

⤷ Thank you anon for the request, this is like a character profile, with headcanons, what I think her life would have been like etc.

She deserved so much more.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ENTJ | The Commander

Ravenclaw

Aquarius Sun, Sagittarius Moon, Scorpio Rising

Princess Rhaenys was the first grandchild of Jaehaerys I and Alysanne Targaryen. Born in 74 AC, she was the daughter of Prince Aemon Targaryen (Jaehaerys’ firstborn son and heir) and Princess Jocelyn Baratheon.

Had Westeros allowed a true primogeniture succession, she would have been Queen Regnant after her father’s death.

Rhaenys was half-Baratheon, which gave her a unique mix of Valyrian beauty and Stormlander fire. Rhaenys was a brilliant, bold, and capable woman, who understood politics but did not let herself get caught up in it. She moved on and made a life for herself, becoming one of the most influential women in Westeros.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

・When Rhaenys was first presented to her grandmother, Queen Alysanne, she had said that Rhaenys was "our queen to be." (this did happen)

・Rhaenys was always a bit of a daddy's girl; Aemon absolutely adored his daughter. Constantly doting on her with affection and gifts. In his mind, she would be on the throne after himself.

・Whenever he returned from battles or travels, she would run to greet him, and he’d lift her into the air, spinning her around until she giggled.

・Rhaenys would sit beside her for hours, listening to stories of Alysanne flying Silverwing beyond the Wall and her work to change laws for women. If Rhaenys had ruled, she would have followed in Alysanne’s footsteps.

・When Aemon died, little Rhaenys refused to believe it at first. She waited at Dragonstone’s shores, watching for Caraxes, convinced he would come home. Jocelyn had to hold her and whisper over and over, "He's not coming back, my love."

・As a teenager, she really grew into hersellf; and the smallfolk adored her.

・However, when Viserys was born, the excitement of having a new cousin was ruined. The whole of King's Landing began gossiping about Rhaenys' being passed over for the crown. Again.

・Even though Baelon was chosen over Rhaenys, she never hated him. He was her uncle, the closest tie to her own father, for he missed him just as much as she did.

・Her mother was sickly, and was bed-bound for a few months. This kept Rhaenys in the Red Keep, close to her family yes, but to court too.

・Whenever Rhaenys was around her grandfather, Jaeherys, she felt inadequate. So, she always stood tall; never gave him a reason to discredit her.

・She was quite close to Aemma, in her teenage years. Although, they were a few years apart, they bonded over their sharedRhaenys thought she was sweet, even if Aemma was a little shy.

・There were rivalries between herself and her other two cousins; Viserys and Daemon.

・Viserys wasn't much of an adventurer, he didn't like swordsmanship but he was a big scholar (one of the things he bonds over with his Uncle Aemon)

・But no matter how much Viserys studied, Rhaenys always seemed to know more than him? (turns out Daemon had been ripping out parts of Viserys books so he was only learning ...partially)

𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒚𝒔 & 𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒏𝒚𝒔

・After the death of his mother, Alyssa, Daemon attempted to mount Meleys, but she spurned him in favour of Rhaenys, enraging the young prince...some say he's still not over it...

・Rhaenys Targaryen first bonded with Meleys in the year 87 AC, when she claimed the dragon as her own, becoming its rider.

・This would make Rhaenys 13 when she first mounted Meleys.

・Rhaenys and Meleys have been bonded longer than any other rider and dragon duo

・Meleys, also known as the Red Queen, was regarded for her great quickness and speed. She had a crown of horns and a loyalty so fierce that Rhaenys and Meleys died together.

・When Rhaenys married Lord Corlys Velaryon in 90 AC, she insisted on arriving to the wedding flying on Meleys.

"My father was furious. His own mother's dragon, the fastest beast ever known, and she'd have none of him. But bent her neck to Rhaenys." ―Baela Targaryen

𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒏𝒚𝒔 & 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅

・With her lord husband, Corlys, Rhaenys had two children; Laenor and Laena Velaryon.

・Motherhood came easily to Rhaenys, for she adored her children.

・Laenor was born first and bonded with Seasmoke.

・Not long after, Corlys & Rhaenys' had Laena, who eventually bonded with Vhagar - the largest dragon alive.

・That same love was shown in her grandchildren, specifically Baela and Rhaena, Laena’s daughters with Daemon Targaryen.

・In my heart ... I think she showed Rhaenyra's children the exact same love. They were Laenor's - she did not care if they didn't look like him.

・With Rhaenyra's claim, she was always her no.1 supporter. Always standing up for her, especially when she wasn't in the room.

・Yet, after her children died, pieces of Rhaenys did too.

・...but it didn't stop her from being a badass bitch.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

A Marriage of Equals: Corlys and Rhaenys both held a lot of power individually. But when they married, they became the ultimate power couple. As Rhaenys was a Targaryen Princess, she held a lot of sway at Driftmark - many listening to her orders over Corlys' at times...

Soft Affection: Rhaenys heart was fierce; it was a warrior's heart. And yet, with Corlys, she was ...soft. As he was with her. The fearsome Seasnake would curl around his wife and rest after long days.

The Warrior & The Adventurer: Rhaenys is a fearless dragonrider, while Corlys is the greatest sailor and explorer of his time. One rules the skies, the other rules the seas. Corlys has seen the ends of the world, but Rhaenys is the only place that ever feels like home.

𝑴𝒐𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒏 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒆 𝑶𝒇 𝑯𝒆𝒓

Test Drive by John Powell

The Old Therebefore by Rachel Zegler

Golden Years by David Bowie

𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕:

delberadiata on X

@ironlily1413. on tumblr

@fkaluis on tumblr

acker on X

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jsprnt · 9 months ago

Text

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 · 11 months ago

Text

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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livmightlive · 2 months ago

Text

2 Adventure AU (cont.

REFURBISHING AND polishing my 2 adventures AU

If you don’t want to read my last post, (which is fair bc it was mostly rambling), the gist of it is that the LU crew goes on two adventures. The first one occurs while most of the chain is quite young and then years after that adventure ends they all come back together again grown. This applies to everybody BUT Warriors.

For the first adventure most the heroes are really young. Time has just finished the events of Majora’s Mask. Wind has just finished Wind Waker. Four, he’s not even Four yet, just went thru Minish Cap. These three are all around age 11-12.

Hyrule is 13, having been living by himself for a year now after completing the events of Zelda 1. Legend is 16 and has only been home for few months after the events of Link’s Awakening.

Sky and Twilight are both 17, having just finished their respective journeys.

WILD, I owe this completely to the suggestion of @durudurururu, is 16 and has recently been knighted and is starting his fight against the calamity. He has not been through the events of BotW yet.

And Warriors. . . Warriors is a 23 year old, recently appointed captain, who is in the early stages of the war of eras. He has so far not met Mask or Tune yet in his war.

I think the funniest way this would go is that Wars along with Sky, Twilight, Wild, and Legend are pulled together in quick succession and are told somehow by the goddess that there’s a great threat that requires many of her heroes to vanquish.

Wars thinks this will be fine. He isn’t shocked that this is happening, his own era is going through something similar, and working with some teens isn’t bad. He’s already used to leading young knights back home.

Shit hits the fan immediately 😭

Warriors tries to take charge, assuming a leadership position quickly. Sky and Wild are quick to follow him, already quite used to following captains back home, but Legend and Twilight…

Legend, freshly traumatized, has decided that he already hates Warriors and does his best to refute everything he says and generally makes things 100 times more difficult. Legend often tries to do his own thing which pisses of Wars to no end. Wild and Legend develop SEVERE beef right away after Legend’s declaration that “knights ain’t shit.” Sky tried to play mediator until Legend declares that “Hylia is a stank-ass ho” as to which Sky is like: >:(

Wars hopes that Twilight will be reasonable. He tries to tell Twilight to do something he doesn’t want to do one day and his response is to spit in the ground, “not the city slicker telling me what to do.” And struts away.

Wars prays, PRAYS., for the day this adventure is over. His teenage comrades get into more fights with each other than they do with the black blooded monsters they should be. Their hygiene is almost dangerously bad. They REEK. Wars prays for the day he doesn’t get awoken by a petty argument. Three times this week dinner has been interrupted by a PHYSICAL altercation between from two to ALL of the boys.

When Sky says the goddess told him more heroes will be joining them, Wars prays that they will be older and wiser. When he’s met with a gang of child soldiers he decides that Hylia must be dead and gone because this has to be the work of demise.

Two of them are non verbal. The masked one makes some attempt to sign, but the young, skittish teenager makes absolutely 0 effort to even try or even indicate that he’s listening to Wars. Wars is convinced that both of are feral. Were they raised in the woods?? In a cave?

One is a self proclaimed pirate. Wars is ashamed in the others that the person who tries hardest to actually listen to him is the 12 year old actual criminal who starts struggling with alcohol withdrawal a week into the journey.

Baby Four is basically the version of himself at the beginning of the 4 sword manga. A huge ego as he’s a budding knight. He listens to Wars less than Legend does.

Miraculously they manage to survive, not even the journey but each other. Things got a little easier.

Legend takes responsibility for Hyrule after the chain discovers he’s not in fact non-verbal BUT Hylian is not his native language. He speaks Calatian and Legend the resident polyglot takes to teaching him Hylian.

Wars is shocked when Wild and Twilight become buddies. He has no clue when that happened. Wild is unsettlingly quiet and too well behaved at the best of times while Wars has to bribe Twilight to bathe sometimes.

Four looks up to Sky after he learns that he’s a god slayer and starts listening to him in proxy of Wars.

Wars finds himself with two shadows, Time and Wind.

Their mission comes to a close and Wars finds that he’s dearly going to miss all of his little brothers despite the stress they put him through. He’s prematurely greying now.

He returns to his own war, reunited with Time and Wind, each a smidge older. After two more years, the war is over and Wars once more says goodbye. The day after the war is declared over, Wars is pulled back by the goddess into a journey across time once again. Apparently there’s some unfinished business from last time.

Wars is SO stressed. He’s not at all ready to go back to being the single father/Fiona Gallagher to 8 traumatized children again. He barely, BARELY, survived last time.

Somehow what he finds is much worse 😭

All of Wars’ journey including the one he went on with the chain, occurred over 3 years for him. He’s now 25. So why… WHY is everyone else so much older????

Baby Mask and the Minish hero are so much older. Time must be pushing 40 and Four is easily 5 years older than Wars.

Twilight, Sky, and Legend are all in their mid to late 20s. Twilight is courting a nice young woman, Legend is engaged, and Sky is MARRIED. With kids.

Wild, what happened to that guy???, is nothing like the quiet, unsettling, lad he was before. He’s in his early 20s and well. More Wild than ever. He also doesn’t remember or barely recalls anybody.

Hyrule, shy, skittish, feral, Hyrule is also now in his early 20s and is almost outgoing. He speaks clearly and magic unlike anything Wars has ever felt before seems to come from his very being.

Wind is finally of legal drinking age and is shockingly similar to before except now he claims to be able to see dead people.

The first thing everyone does is treat Warriors to a drink while he processes.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu chain #lu warriors #lu hyrule #lu four #lu legend #lu time #lu wild #lu wind #lu sky #2 Adventure AU

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bosbas · 1 month ago

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Chapter 7: I wish I could un-recall how we almost had it all

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!daphne's best friend!reader WC: 2.0k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love, mentions of pregnancy, ANGST!!!!!

July 13, 1812 - Waking up the past few days had been absolute torture. But waking up today and seeing the blood on your sheets was worse than any morning you’d ever had.

A part of you was relieved. You had gotten your courses. You weren’t with child. You didn’t have to trap Anthony in a loveless marriage.

It was good news, right?

That’s what you were desperately repeating to yourself over and over as you sat in your bed sobbing uncontrollably.

It truly was over then. There was no baby, and there would be no marriage. You’d be lucky if Anthony ever talked to you again, though you wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. All because you thought it would be a fun game to dabble with someone’s real feelings.

What's more, your courses actually came a few days early. It was like the universe was completely and categorically rejecting the idea of a happy ending with Anthony. It was what you deserved, you supposed. At least the misery of not knowing was over.

To make matters worse, your crying was so loud that your father popped his head into your room, an extremely unusual occurrence.

“What is all this ruckus?” he asked. “Is everything alright?”

Not having the time, energy, or desire to fully explain what was happening, and doubting he’d care, you told your father, “My courses came.”

“Oh,” he said, suddenly growing very uncomfortable. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Predictable. He wasn’t one to get involved with women’s issues.

---

You had given yourself a few hours to mope around your home, mourning the loss of what could have been. But it was time to face your fears, and you headed over to the Bridgerton residence.

It was usually only a few minutes' walk, but you were dreading the impending conversation so much that it was almost fifteen minutes before you reached their front door.

What scared you the most was that you had no idea how Anthony was going to take the news. You knew the responsibility was yours to go to the Bridgerton home and inform him, but you hadn’t seen him or Daphne since the day after your fateful ball.

As you reached their front entrance, before you could even knock, the door burst open and you saw Anthony standing in front of you.

Not that you were in a position to enjoy it, but he looked exceedingly handsome. He was clearly on his way out to go to town, and you didn’t know whether to curse or thank the universe for putting him in front of you before he left for the day.

“Oh!” you gasped, startled. “Um, hello, Anthony,” you greeted awkwardly.

He just stared back, unmoving. He hadn’t been expecting to talk to you for at least a few more days and was entirely unprepared now.

“Daphne’s just inside,” he said after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

“No, I’m here to speak with you, actually.”

“Oh,” he said simply, not giving away what he was feeling. It hadn't even been a week! Surely there was no news yet? Surely he could still hold out some hope?

He stepped outside and closed the door, allowing you two some privacy for the conversation you were about to have.

“I- Well, I just wanted to inform you that my courses came this morning,” you said, your voice wavering.

“Oh,” he repeated.

Was that really all he was going to say?

You cleared your throat stiffly. “And evidently no one saw us sneak off to the library the other night, otherwise we’d have heard the rumors by now.” A pause. “I suppose this means you won’t need to propose, then. And we can go our own ways.”

It was like your words ignited something in Anthony, and he finally moved to cross his arms in front of his chest, a prominent scowl on his face.

“I suppose it does. Congratulations. Your little plan worked perfectly, then. Daphne was able to court a scumbag while you distracted me and remained perfectly detached.”

His angry words cut you deep. Almost out of habit when you needed comfort, you reached out for his broken hand that was still bandaged. He took a step back, almost looking panicked as he eyed your outstretched arm.

You felt tears welling in your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. You deserved no sympathy from the man in front of you.

Blinking them away, you sniffed. “Anthony, I know nothing I say will ever make it up to you but I truly am sorry. It was never my intention to let it go on for so long.”

“And yet you did.”

“I did,” you replied, feeling ashamed. “But you must know, the time we did have together-”

But Anthony interrupted before you could continue. “I’ll be moving into bachelor’s lodgings as soon as possible. That way our paths won’t have to cross again unless there’s a big family event. I wish you the best in your future endeavors, and I sincerely hope you find a love match eventually.”

You choked back a sob. “Is this truly the last time we’ll talk?”

“I can hope,” he responded, cruelly echoing back the words you had said to him a few days ago.

And with that, he pushed past you down the stairs, going toward his waiting carriage, not sparing you a second glance.

You were left crying outside of the Bridgertons’ door, head in your hands as you realized the gravity of Anthony’s statement.

That was exactly how Violet found you twenty minutes later.

“Oh no, my Y/N, what happened?” she asked, placing a comforting arm around your shoulders.

You could only turn and sob into her shoulder, too shaken up to form any coherent words.

Violet, bless her, rubbed your back soothingly as she led you back into her home, her afternoon of shopping completely forgotten now.

“Why don’t we ring for some tea and you can talk to me and Daphne about what’s bothering you?”

An hour later you had calmed down considerably and Daphne was in the middle of apologizing profusely for telling Anthony while Violet tried to process the information her daughter and her best friend had just divulged. You had scrubbed any mention of your escapade with Anthony from the story you told his mother, of course. But most other details remained accurate.

“It’s not your fault,” you waved away Daphne’s apology. “You only told him the truth. He was going to find out eventually, one way or another.”

“But it was my idea in the first place!” she insisted. “And a stupid one at that, seeing how things ended with Phillip.”

“Which we are not done discussing,” interjected Violet, still horrified that someone like him could treat her daughter that way.

“Regardless, I would have come up with the idea myself and gone through with it if you hadn't,” you reassured her. “What’s done is done. I’m only sorry he’ll be leaving home.”

Daphne laughed and shook her head. “He’d been wanting to leave for ages. Besides, it’ll be nice to have some more peace and quiet around here.”

Always one to stay on topic, Violet kept up her line of questioning. “Why don’t the two of you get married still? Your feelings for him are clearly real, no matter how you ended up having them.”

Surprisingly, tears welled up in your eyes again After the day you’d had, you didn’t think you had any left in you, but the situation was just too dire not to cry over it. “He told me earlier he wishes to never speak with me again.”

Violet gasped. “That can’t be right, he would never say such a thing!”

You could only nod glumly, remembering his cold, uncaring eyes as he moved past you earlier that day.

“I just can’t believe I ruined it all,” you cried. “It would have been so wonderful if only I hadn’t acted so carelessly.”

Violet tsked. “You wouldn’t have even looked at him in a romantic light if it weren’t for your silly plan. Who knows if things would have really been different.”

“At least I wouldn’t have a broken heart,” you said softly, wistfully looking out the window.

“There is simply no world in which he can just forget how he feels about you,” insisted Daphne, trying to stay hopeful.

“There’s nothing left,” you said, well aware of the situation you were in and rejecting any fantasies that would make you feel better temporarily. “I made the choices I made and I must live with them now.”

---

“Why is Y/N never round for dinner anymore?” asked Hyacinth suddenly one night.

“Yes, I miss playing chess with her before I go to bed. No one else here seems to want to play,” complained Gregory, in a rare moment of agreement with his youngest sister.

“She does seem to have very suddenly stopped showing up,” said Francesca. She eyed Daphne and Anthony suspiciously, knowing one of the two was bound to be the cause of your absence.

“Well, I certainly didn’t tell her to stop coming,” said Daphne, glaring at her older brother.

Anthony laughed coldly. “That’s rich coming from you. You know exactly why she stopped showing up, and it’s not exactly my fault.”

“Anthony!” exclaimed Violet, shocked at the sudden outburst of anger.

“Forget it,” he grumbled, standing up from the dinner table and storming off to his study.

A few moments later, Violet knocked on the door of Anthony’s study, not waiting for a response before she slipped in and closed the door behind her.

“You’re not truly angry,” she stated, not even posing it as a question.

“Yes, I am,” Anthony insisted.

“Your anger conceals something deeper, and it might do you some good to let it out.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Anthony responded, but his voice lacked his previous conviction. “I am angry,” he repeated, his voice breaking as he tried to convince himself of his feelings.

“It’s not a crime to feel things for someone, you know. Even when they don’t work out.”

“What is the point then? If they amount to nothing?” Anthony pressed, struggling to find a greater reason for the complete heartbreak he felt day in and day out.

It was torture to be away from you, to be sure. But he knew he would never be able to hold it together if he saw you in the flesh. Regardless, that didn’t stop him from missing you. Your rosy perfume. The way you threw your head back when you laughed. How tightly your hands held his hand when you were anxious about something.

And that was what killed him. He’d had real and profound feelings for you. He thought that was it. That you were it. He’d thought he'd found the person he was going to marry. He’d found his present and his future and everything in betweem.

But it had all been a lie. And so the anger kept coming back. And he could do nothing to stop it.

It was misplaced anger, he knew. At you, at the world, at the fact that your courses had come and you would not have his child, and at the fact that he could never have you in a way that truly mattered.

“That is exactly what makes you human, Anthony. You can’t go around life expecting to never be hurt. It’s a rare thing to feel that way about someone.”

“Good. I’m glad it’s rare. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

“Anthony!” Violet gasped, scandalized. “Love is not a curse.”

“It certainly feels like one.”

“You could still be with her, you know. All this misplaced love, it’ll do you no good to keep it bottled up.”

“I can’t,” insisted Anthony, his voice breaking again. “I wanted to marry her still. I even asked her. I thought she’d love me back if I only had some time to convince her. But she didn’t want to marry me,” he confessed, succumbing to his feelings and putting his head in his hands as he cried.

“Why don’t you try talking to her again?” suggested Violet, rubbing her son’s back comfortingly.

“I can’t,” he replied, rubbing his eyes. “It’s for the better.”

—

previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

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goldfishontheceiling · 11 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 · 11 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.

****

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

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love-byers · 8 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 · 11 months ago

Text

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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