#i really like how it turned out and i'm really surprised i even remember how to draw at all haha
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Betting your girl's mouth on a basketball game was crazy — and Suguru was all for it.
After taking a loss that may or may not have been deliberate, jock!Suguru wears a dirty grin on his face while watching you suck his best friends virgin cock like a good girl, loving the nasty wet noises you make while slurping up and down nerd!Satoru's pulsing shaft, slowly stroking himself to the sight of you on your knees, making cock disappear in your mouth like magic.
And Satoru — the poor boy — is losing his mind because he's never felt a woman's lips around his dummy big cock before. He used to tell you that sex is beneath him — now he's throwing his head back, gritting his pearly whites, curling his toes and biting his bottom lip 'till it's all red, totally surrendering to your little mouth — it's just so funny to you, 'cause he's been the know-it-all bastard telling you "... you're just Suguru's slut. If you paid as much attention in class as you did to my best friend's dick, maybe you'd amount to something. Do you even remember what we learned yesterday? Exactly. But I do — that's why I'm the top student and you're just — "
Bla bla bla... Satoru's now showing you how much precum his dummy big cock leaks — it's a sticky mess oozing out of his tip all over your quivering tongue. You looked up at him and winked, and he seethed inside because god he's hated you for so long but now your lips are wrapped around his cock and your mouth is taking him to heaven.
He's whining, biting into his fist, knees all wobbly. the texture of your tongue drives him nuts — then it clicks. oh, this is why my best friend is obsessed with his girlfriend. This is why he can't shut up and stop oversharing his sex life with me.
'Cause heaven really does exist on her tongue.
"fuck, slow down..." Satoru tries to ease his cock out your mouth, feeling his orgasm threatening to erupt at any moment.
But Suguru pushes you back down on his cock, filling your cheeks again, "nah, keep going baby, he's gonna cum — aren't you Satoru? You're gonna cum in my girl's mouth, huh? Come on, big boy, I know how long you've wanted this. Fill this little slut's mouth with your cum."
Those taunting words push him over the edge. His heavy balls tighten up as he feels you suckling his swollen head, and then white ropes come bursting out.
"Ahh—gh! Fuck... nn!"
Satoru's legs give out and he moans like you've never heard a man moan before, releasing all the cum he's worked up for you like he's been waiting years to do this. Actually, he has been waiting years — waiting patiently to find an opportunity to make your jaw ache and eyes well up with tears.
"Baby, you gonna swallow my best friend's cum f'me?" Suguru encourages, stroking his cock lazily against your cheek now.
He watches you compliantly swallow Satoru's seed, and Satoru twitches at the sight.
Huffing, Satoru comes down from his high and brushes his white wispy bangs out of his eyes. He's glaring down at your mouth.
"... still fucking hate you... " Satoru mutters to you in a voice still shaky with the after-effects of his orgasm.
"I still hate you, too." you smile back at him.
His heart flutters and bottom lip twitches. He can't stop staring at your lips, your eyes, your hips, your thighs.
"Ah, Satoru, quit your act — you're the one who proposed this idea in the first place."
You went red in the face. It was Satoru's idea? The mister goody-two-shoes, know-it-all, all A+++ report cards, 'sex is beneath me' Satoru?
"Huh? I thought this was your idea..." but before you can express your surprise you're already feeling Suguru nudge his cockhead against your lips.
"Sh sh, now it's my turn, baby. Open wide."
#i just... had a sudden vision...#tw: smut#mdni#satoru#suguru#satosugu smut#smut#satoru smut#gojo smut#geto smut#suguru smut#satosugu x reader#geto x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo satoru smut#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto smut#suguru geto x reader#geto x you
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selfish - p.b
part: 1
summary: the beginning of “friendship” between you & paige.
warnings: cursing
a/n: hellooooo welcome back to another series, i’m sure this will be fun to write and im excited for you guys to see where this goes!
my eyes drifted across the lecture hall, landing on a familiar face—paige bueckers. obviously, i’d heard so much about the star basketball player, but seeing her in person was different. she was leaning over a textbook, her blonde hair falling forward as she focused intently.
i felt my heart flutter slightly as i took her in. there was something about her demeanor, her strong jawline, and the way her muscles filled out her shirt. i quickly looked away, chiding myself. i kind of forgot i have a boyfriend and what not.
as the lecture began, i found myself sneaking glances at paige every so often. each time, i felt that familiar flutter in my chest. i tried to brush it off as mere admiration for her athletic prowess, but a small voice in the back of my mind whispered that it was more than that. but it can’t be, i have a boyfriend.
after class, i gathered my courage and approached paige as she was packing up her bag. my heart raced as i got closer. “hi, i'm madison. i just wanted tell you i really admire your skills, you know, on the court.”
the voice in the back of my mind was telling me i sounded so very stupid. introducing myself to the paige bueckers? absolutely ridiculous, but worth a shot.
paige looked up and flashed me a warm smile, her blue eyes crinkling at the corners, “hey, thanks! i've seen you around campus. you're in my psych class, right?”
i nodded, feeling a little flustered under her gaze. “yeah, i am,” she stood up and stretched, her arms reaching overhead and making her shirt ride up slightly. i caught a glimpse of her toned stomach and felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch it.
but i can’t be feeling like this. over a girl? no way, i have a boyfriend.
paige's smile lingered as she tucked her book bag over her shoulder. “it's nice to meet you, madison,”she said, her voice low and smooth. “maybe we can study together sometime? psych can be tough.”
i swallowed hard, nodding eagerly. “yeah, that'd be great,” i managed to say. as paige walked away, i watched her retreat, admiring the way she looked with each step. i shook my head, trying to clear it.
what was i doing?
i met up with my boyfriend, jason, later that day. he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close and kissing me deeply. usually, his kisses made my heart race, but today, all i could think about was paige. guilt washed all over me.
no girl has ever made me feel this way, ever. i’ve always considered myself straight, maybe bisexual. but the only reason i’d ever consider myself bi is because i’ll think a girl is cute every now and then.
sure, i’ve kissed a few girls, but i never felt anything. i’ve never felt that kind of connection with girls, ever. well—atleast not the feeling i feel with jason. i love jason, he’s my everything, but i can’t help but shake the feeling of how im lowkey simping for a girl.
—
one weekend, paige and i had spent the day together. no studying, just hanging out. we'd gone to the park, lay on the grass, talking and laughing. i'd felt so at ease with her, so comfortable. too comfortable, maybe.
at one point, she'd leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. i'd stiffened at first, surprised. then i'd relaxed, enjoying the warmth of her body against mine. i'd even slipped my arm around her, pulling her closer.
it had felt... nice. too nice. i’ve started to love looking at her mouth, wondering what it would be like to kiss her. i'd quickly pushed the thought away, guilt washing over me. i have a boyfriend, i reminded myself sternly. i can't be thinking about kissing paige.
but i couldn't stop thinking about it. days turned into a week, and the memory of that moment in the park lingered. i always remember myself staring at paige's mouth during our study sessions, blushing when she'd catch me looking. i was so confused. it felt so wrong, but so good.
—
weeks passed and i’d continued to steal glances at paige in psych class, my heart fluttering each time. for the past few weeks we’ve hung out, nothing special but it was great. we would go for ice cream, maybe get my favorite—zaxbys, and it would all be good. but genuinely, it’s horrible being around her.
im in a relationship with someone, yet im falling for another person. that person being a girl. i sound fucking stupid.
our professor announced a big project, assigning partners randomly. my heart pounded as the list was read aloud. “madison cooper and paige bueckers,” she called out.
i froze. there is no way she assigned me with the girl call myself liking. paige and i exchanged a surprised look. a slow smile spread across her face, and i felt my knees go weak. as we gathered our things after class, paige approached me. “looks like we're partners, madison.”
“looks like it,” i breathed, my voice barely audible. her nearness made my pulse quicken. we decided to meet at the library that weekend to start on our project. as i left the lecture hall, i felt a mix of excitement and dread.
i have a boyfriend.
—
that weekend, i sat across from paige at a worn wooden table in the library. she was leaning over her laptop, her brow furrowed as she typed. i couldn't help but stare at her strong hands, her broad shoulders, the way her hair fell messily over her shoulders.
paige looked up, catching me staring. she smirked slightly. “you okay, madi? you seem a lil… distracted.” i blushed, averting my eyes. “i'm fine, just... thinking about the project.” even to my own ears, the excuse sounded weak.
but that nickname, madi.
i mean—everyone calls me madi. but from paige, her saying it, it sounds heavenly. i don’t want anyone else to ever call me that nickname again now that it’s left paige’s mouth.
—
i notice madison staring at me—a lot, and it makes me feel a strange warmth in my chest. as we worked on our project, i found myself stealing glances at her too, admiring the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way her lips parted slightly as she reads.
i start wondering… wondering what it would be like to kiss those parted lips, to run my fingers through her silky brunette hair. i shook my head slightly, trying to dislodge the thought. madison isn’t my type, i don’t think. i know she’s straight, but i could definitely turn her.
then again, she has a boyfriend.
she’s only mentioned him a few times, talking about their dates, future plans and what not. but honestly, he sounds lame. she mentioned he got her flowers & candy for her birthday, what a loser. like seriously? a girl like her? if it was me, i’d go all out.
as the day went on, i became more aware of the subtle signs madison was giving me. the way her eyes lingered on me, the slight flush of her cheeks, the way she bit her lower lip.
i decided to test the waters. as she passed me a printout, i let my fingers brush against hers. i saw her intake a sharp breath, her eyes darting to mine. her skin is soft, smooth like butter. despite the subtle, small action, i could feel how soft and fragile her skin felt.
“sorry,” i murmured, not pulling away from her touch. her fingers curled around mine, squeezing gently. “it's okay,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible. i felt a jolt of electricity at her touch, her response. i was onto something.
—
paige's fingers brushing against mine sent shivers down my spine. i looked into her eyes, and for a moment, everything else faded away. i felt a strong urge to lean in, to close the distance between us. but then reality hit me like a cold shower.
i have a boyfriend.
i gently pulled my hand away, trying to compose myself. “we should probably focus on the project,” i said, trying to sound normal. i turned back to my laptop, my mind racing. i can't let myself fall for paige, i have to stay loyal to jason or whatever.
but i still don’t understand how im falling so hard for a girl. a girl i just met at that, it sounds alien to me. if you told me 2 months ago i’d be head over heels for this woman, i’d look at you like you needed a straitjacket.
we continued working across from each other, the air thick with tension. i made sure to keep a safe distance, to not let our hands touch again. but being near her was torture. her scent, her presence, the way her voice deepened slightly when she was concentrating... everything about her drew me in.
as the hours passed, i found myself zoning out, my mind wandering to forbidden thoughts. paige's strong arms around me, her lips on mine, her hands exploring my body. i quickly rolled my eyes, trying to clear the images. no, i can't think like this.
i have a boyfriend.
i feel like i’m going insane, there is no way in hell im actually thinking like this. thinking like this about a girl, am i crazy? i think so. but it just sounds so right. i don’t think i’ve ever imagined times like this with jason though.
i mean, we did have sex a few times. but when i met him, i didn’t think like that— it was more of an emotional connection. i wasn’t immediately thinking about what his lips would feel like on mine.
paige seemed to pick up on the change though. she didn't bring up the touch again, didn't act the way she was acting earlier. we worked in near silence, the tension between us palpable but unspoken. as we finished up for the day, i felt a mix of relief and despair.
“not gon’ lie, i didn’t expect you to be this smart,” paige remarked, laughing softly as we packed up. “yeah, i try my best in academics,” i agreed softly. she smiled at me, and i felt my heart ache. why does it have to be her? why do i have to be taken?
“same time next weekend?” she asked. i hesitated for a moment. being around her was torture, but it was a torture i craved. “yeah,” i heard myself say. “same time next week.”
as i walked home, my mind was in turmoil. i knew i should end things with jason, that my heart wasn't in it anymore. but the thought of hurting him, of disappointing my family, held me back. i buried my face in my hands, a frustrated groan escaping my lips.
and no, im not trying to end things because of paige, thats silly—this thought weighed heavy on my mind for months. i mean, very good guy, but things just haven’t been the same. paige, she’s just the cherry on top.
i found myself in an impossible situation. i was falling for paige, but i was committed to someone else. i couldn't keep stringing jason along, not when my heart barely belonged to him.
here’s the situation: me and my boyfriend are falling apart, i’m falling for a girl, and my life is in shambles. sounds crazy right? yeah, i know.
i spent the rest of the week distracted, snapping at jason when he'd try to talk to me, zoning out during family dinners. but can you blame me? my situation is shit. i feel horrible, horrible for doing this to my boyfriend, horrible for falling for this girl.
my mom noticed, pulling me aside one evening. “madison, talk to me,” she said softly. “something's on your mind.” i hesitated. i wanted to confide in her, to tell her about paige, about my conflicted feelings. but i was scared. scared of her reaction, scared of what would happen next. so i chickened out. “it's nothing, mom.”
she searched my face, concern etched on her own. “madison, you can talk to me, you know. whatever it is, we'll figure it out together.” her voice was gentle, encouraging. but i just shook my head, pushing past her to retreat to my room.
alone in my room, i curled up on my bed, hugging a pillow to my chest. all my thoughts weighed down on me like a brick as i realized the mess i was in. i was torn between duty and desire, between what was right and what felt right. and i had no idea how to fix it.
this is the reality of being a girl i guess— or being a girl liking another girl. i’m a mess. i barely know her, it’s only been about a month or two, and they’ve been great, i can say that. but i just don’t get what’s wrong with me. what kind of phase am i going through?
i guess time will tell sooner or later.
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#uconn wbb#wcbb#paige x reader#paige bueckers angst#paige bueckers smut#angst#smut#uconn huskies
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❝ 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤. ❞
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐬) ⋮ Daisuke x AFAB! Reader
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⋮ 3.5k
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ⋮ 1 | 2 |
𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋮ Captains know best!
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⋮ Cross-Posted on AO3 | Vomit Mentioned | Jimmy-Centered
𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ⋮ Sorry for the delay! Advisement and Finals are coming ups I'm fixing up the schedule to accommodate writing as well!
There’s tension in the room, it’s thick, rough to spread on toast and forced down your throat to make sure you know that you had fucked this up. Of course, Daisuke would be here–But why Daisuke? The rare updates your mother gave was that he really did nothing after high school, enrolled into college undeclared as he just partied his way through the first and second semester.
“No amount of money could get that boy into a good school.” Your mother sighed in relief, “Good riddance.” You had done well, well in your mother eyes since you could’ve done “one more extracurricular’ or ‘been involved in more organizations’ nonetheless, you secured your spot at her dream college and took it seriously in fear she’d kick out her child.
You know, you hadn’t taken the chance to notice how Daisuke had grown, changed in some ways with the faded blond hair dye on the ends of his hair–When did he start curling his hair? When did he dye it blond? What made him start wearing concealer around his eyes? There’re these subtleties you may have not noticed before, were they always there and you were always just that neglectful of him? Disappointed in yourself as a friend you wave to him, and when his eyes finally hit you, it almost drops like a dead body. There’s a way his eyes fall, it almost guts you in a way where he perfectly places his hands on the most sensitive parts. It’s the way he knows you inside out, he doesn’t even need to say anything to you, the look in his chestnut eyes that held everything back in them to not burst into tears. “Alright, Daisuke, that’s enough getting familiar with the crew.” Jimmy speaks, it’s a man you remembered having straight brown hair slicked into a midpart, brown eyes, and stubble. The scraggle under his chin made you cringe, praying that if he got closer there wouldn’t be something ghastly awaiting you. All of you wore the Pony Express jumpsuit, except Swansea and Daisuke who just wore the shirt and jeans with Daisuke adding on a top, you’re not surprised since Daisuke would add anything to the uniform to make sure he was authentic even in the little ways like a feather earring or multicolored rubber band bracelets.
You began to play with the one under the sleeve of your jumpsuit, your fingers turning into pluck at your wrist was the one Daisuke had made for you back in elementary school, it had his and your favorite color alternating every two loops.
“Oh! My! God!” You let out the most obnoxious gasp, it causes him to giggle, and you smirk to yourself knowing all the right buttons to push, there’s a big grin on his face as he slips it on your wrist, and you look down at it to see his wrist falling next to yours to reveal the same bracelet. “Do you like love it?” You snicker at his phrasing, “Dude, I like love it, man.” You mock him, he brings his shoulder to yours to shove it, and the two of you share a smile with glazed over eyes.
How do you even face him? Ways to talk to him, but your biggest fear is talking to him specifically. Everybody boarding this ship seems fine, or at least as good as any other crew could be to be honest with you, since you know it is like your first time. You're looking at a little longer than you should. Like Curly? I mean, you think he's good looking? It's the same blond that Daisuke wanted to do at one point, he was charismatic like how Daisuke was when you first met him, and his hand shake his firm but you long for the wiggle in his wrist Daisuke had.
Holy shit, what do you even do in this situation?
What do you even say to him? “Hey, I'm sorry for leaving you after all this time.” “My bad for abandoning you.” “I'm scared shitless at my mom.” Can you even use your mom as an excuse anymore? Is she even really that scary in the first place or were you just pussying out? All the time where you’ve defended him and all the times he's defended you–Why was you even arguing for him if you just ended up leaving him in the end?
Soon you were met with the Co-captain again. You want to lie to yourself about your situation, that being on a ship is cool and being trained to fly it sounds even more amazing but Good God, you could not stand to be around Jimmy for longer than you needed to.
Honestly, you were very much distraught to find out that you were being stuck with Jimmy. “Since as Captain I'll be a bit busier, I won't be able to be as active as I'd like to be in training. Jimmy’s been a good hand, he's strong willed, eager, and is a good companion to have on the ship.”
You have to shadow him?
In some place in your heart, you know that he hates it just as much as you do. Just meeting him for the first time made him just look at you like lesser, was it because you added your own accessories to your uniform or the fact you put effort into your appearance? Handshake from Jimmy killed something in you because of how he did it, why was his hand so clammy? Why couldn’t he smell better? How come anytime that you talk to him you feel this disgusting older mess inside you like you're the one fucking up all the time? You hope and pray that this isn't all the time you'll spend on the Tuplar.
Upon loading all necessary items, you all make your accession, there's not really a lot to do on the Tuplar, unfortunately there's never anything to do here besides put all your stuff into your room and pray for the best. “Let's go.” Jimmy says your name like a sergeant, it's clear he treats you as a boot licker and now here you were running your tongue against the heel, “Yes, sir.”
Your first thing when it comes to the Tuplar is how the hell a ship can even run this long, you remember the information your mother gave you about how this is the last human ran delivery service, you think back on it and hate it even more as you remember you're really just stuck with these people for around a year or two.
You needed to make the best of it.
Whoever would be writing your recommendation letter Whether that Curly, or even Jimmy. You make sure that you did your absolute best. Now the biggest problem with being around Jimmy all the time is being around Jimmy all the time. You tried to find good things about him. For instance, he told you on the first day, “You're very diligent, I'm grateful for it.” It was nice to hear it, you began to look forward to it throughout the day like the people pleaser you were, spineless against Jimmy like you were to your mother.
There was also the fact that he would teach you stuff, he always made sure to be open with you and never bullshit you on what you wanted to know. There was a clear inferiority complex though. Anytime the two of you bumped into Curly there was a clear pedestal that Jimmy put him on, it was exhausting to hear him talk about how Curly got him this job and how grateful he was and how much good Curly did on this ship.
It got even more awkward one day, though. It was most likely around the later time this week that you were working alongside Jimmy and Curly happened to show up. Now in your defense, you really didn't know the two like that, Curley decided to make a joke about Jimmy, basically along the lines of how Jimmy might be a 'Negative Nancy' and it was all in good fun.
Unbeknownst to you, Curly would definitely be talking to you about Jimmy was in the first place. Jimmy was definitely a character and honestly, it was very hard to even find the time to be around him, even though you were forced to be around him a majority of the time. Nonetheless, Jimmy was definitely not supposed to hear what Curly and you had discussed because you were giving your most honest opinion about Jimmy given the week you two had spent together.
“He’s just always weird, to me, all the time.” Curly raised a brow, “Weird as in?” “At first, I felt special? Like all he was doing is just making me think that there was a chance to be better.” Then you let out a groan, you think back on what he says, and you continue on with your discussion, “It was this sick cycle, he’d compliment me, then he’d backhand me with a little thing,
‘You could’ve been better.’ ‘You could’ve not missed it.’ ‘Do you even know how to maneuver?’ ‘I guess you’re not as diligent as I thought.’” You sit there and look at Curly, and Curly look back at you with sympathy. “Well, why the fuck am I even trying then?” Curly flinches at your language but does nothing to halt your rant, especially when his eyes flicker above you then back to yours, he’s grateful you don’t notice.
“What the fuck am I gaining? If all it amounts to him just pulling the rug beneath my feet to see if I’ll float for him. It's ridiculous. I'm trying so much to please him and make sure I'm doing all right and that I meet his standards so I can do good in college, and I'm sitting here being bent over backwards and turned inside out for this absolute buffoon.” There’s another groan that earns his way out of you, “And his tone, it's so condescending. He never ever tries to think about anything that somebody else is doing. It's always about him, him, him, him. As if I have nothing else to do with my life. What if I want to go play games with Anya and Daisuke?”
Curly’s eyes aren’t even on you anymore, he’s looking to your left, and in return you follow his eyes. Guess that maybe it's just the way it's supposed to be? You don't say anything though You're terrified of even trying to go against either or so you sit there, and you stay silent. I mean what could you even say in the first place, “Jimmy…” You’re distraught that Curly didn’t tell you sooner, you don’t blame him, and Curly doesn’t correct you on it.
“So, do you have a problem with me? If you really have a problem with me while I’m on this ship, why work under me? Why do this? If you absolutely have nothing else to offer besides complaining the whole time, all you do is complain, complain, complain about what? About how I teach you? Mainly, it's because of how unattached you are to this. You never care for anything; you never sit there and think twice. You always sit there and think you're a know it all and think you know everything from A-Z. Unfortunately, you don't and I'm so sorry that you're hurt, that I know more than you and that you feel hurt or put on and I'm oh so sorry that you feel that way.”
The way Jimmy talked to you really pissed you off. Honestly, you were about 5 seconds away from beating his arse. Nonetheless though, you held back all that rage that you had pent up and thought about what you should do. He was apologizing for your feelings as if you are feeling the way you felt was absolutely the wrong way to feel and that you are not allowed to feel emotions in the first place about what he does as if his. As his actions don't have consequences. You want to say something and as much as you really want to fight against him.
You sit there, you take a breath in, and you apologize.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I should've communicated better. You're actually a really good co-captain, Jimmy.” There's a look in his eyes that tells you majorly messed up he looks back to you with this glaring expression but a crooked little grin on his face that tells you differently, he'll turn his body to you slowly and you look to him with a wobbly smile, your foundation being nothing but the fear you have in his face.
“It doesn't really matter what you think, does it? At the end of the day, I'm co-captain and Curly is captain, not the other way around. Don't need you feeling bad for me especially when I know you'd rather be with Curly.” You're lost for words, what do you even say after something like this? You can try and be nice and tell him that's not true but what are you even gaining from that at this point?
No Curly is just awkwardly standing there, unable to really do or say anything he tells the booth of you. “Maybe you guys should work it out amongst yourselves, you guys are mature and like-minded adults.” That was his cue to leave. You're distraught by this, but not surprised, unfortunately, given that he didn't even tell you about Jimmy being next to you. You wonder how long Jimmy was actually there next to you before Curly was going to say anything, if he was going to say anything at all...
After Curly makes his way out of the hallway, you were left alone with Jimmy, and you try to start up the conversation. “Well,-” The way Jimmy barks out a laugh causing him to spit on your face made you wince at the scene, “Well, Well what? Well, you suck at your job? Well, flattery will get you nowhere. Well, what do you even plan on doing after this excursion? Well, what do you even study in college? Well, do you even think you'll return for the next time? Well? Well?” With each phrase he got closer, and closer, and closer.
“Here and play around on this ship as if we're all doing these little dumb reindeer games to come and sit here and bullshitting around. I didn't know you were like Daisuke, and you have a little family going home to support you while you go through college, and I definitely didn’t know you wanted to hang out with the nurse who barely qualified for the position. I didn't know that you were so spoiled in lavish that you thought you could sit here and play around. You didn't want to learn anything, you just thought this was going to be a fun little hang out time. But this is real shit. We're doing real things.”
It didn't help that he had just eased you into one of the closets, it's small with shelves lined with miscellaneous items. It was cramp, you're cornered by this absolute unit that was most definitely trying to intimidate you. You don't even know what to do at this point. You look in his eyes and even while you're trying to hold your ground you feel like your knees are going to buckle in.
You stare at Jimmy, and he doesn't even see you, you're just another person who needs to know his place on the ship. Below Curly but above you. It was never explicitly said, and you don't know if you could ever really get it out of him, but you knew that this was just him making sure he knew you knew. You kept staring though and even as his face got closer and closer you couldn't even fathom how you would even get out of this.
“Well, what?” You see yourself in his reflection and there's nothing more humiliating than knowing how weak you look in front of somebody. It's almost petrifying how much you're realizing that you're stuck here, and you will be stuck here for as long as he wants you to be.
“Well?” You sigh, “I’m sorry, Jimmy, I was just speaking my mind.” He doesn't even look at you, his eyes flicker up and they flicker back down at you with no type of change to emotion. “I didn't decide to have a person work alongside me and be around me this whole time just for them to speak their feelings I don't want you to speak your feelings I don't need you to speak your feelings I don't want to hear you speak your feelings You're here for one thing and one thing only follow my orders and if you can't do that then I don't even know why you even bother to show up.”
“You didn't even decide to have me as your intern…”
You shouldn't have said that and in those seconds you didn't even realize it you were being snatched up, it was quick both of his hands already pinning you both by the sides of your shoulders you weren't surprised that he was able to just immediately grab your forearms and yank you over to him with his face even more knotted up in anger than before. “I'm sorry, I didn't hear you, follower. What did you say?” Your breath hitches at the feel of coarse hands squishing your flesh without a care, “I said,” You think, you think some more, and you come to your conclusion.
“I said, you didn't even decide to have me as your intern, you only have me shadowing you because you're not as important as Curly.” The way his grip tightened was something you expected, and you prayed that the bruises on your arms wouldn't be too bad as you felt yourself being run through a compressor, that was until someone knocked on the door. Jimmy whips his head around to see who it is, “Who is it?”
“Oh!” No, fucking, way. “Hey, Jiiiiimmy, right? I heard F/N’s voice in there and I was gonna ask if I could come in and get some stuff cause Swansea sent me…” Your eyes widen and you almost cry out in relief, “Daisuke? Yeah, I'm in here!” The look shot back at you almost gave you whiplash, quickly putting your head down in embarrassment as you were met with Jimmy's angered expression in your face. “We're coming out right now.”
There's an awkwardness in the air more than there was before but for a different reason. Upon getting out the closet you're met with Daisuke, You weren't the first to leave in fact as Jimmy was already standing there with his harm's crossed looking at Daisuke dismissively, there is a glare in his eyes that Daisuke had read as Jimmy being upset about being interrupted and you being embarrassed about being caught. Embarrassment was correct. You were absolutely floored by the fact that Daisuke had found you with Jimmy alone in a closet. It almost killed you to see the expression on his face upon leaving the enclosed area.
“Soooooooo, what were you guys doin’ in there?” Only Daisuke would ask such a question, and you admired him for such boldness and confidence you'd never lost it in those years, and he even glowed more with him being met with such a sight, you don't think he cares, and you do think maybe he thinks you moved on. It kills you to look at him, there's no obvious hurt in his face but Daisuke has always been someone that's displayed effortless suave.
Jimmy was quick to speak, “Nothin’ you need to worry about, Daisuke, just getting to know my intern a little better.” There's a cheeriness to his expression It's obvious of what he's doing, and you can't even say anything without not wanting to be put into that situation once more. You argue with yourself again, You could defend yourself and tell Daisuke that Jimmy was being a total asshole to you, and you needed help and you were so glad that he was able to help you or you could do what you were best at and that was going along with it.
“Yeah,”
Just like you always did.
“Ohhhhhhh, I see.” Daisuke lets out a warm laugh, too warm of a laugh, even as he's almost joking about it in a way that seemed like him and Jimmy were close, “Anywhosies, I'm going to take this stuff to Swansea. I'll see you guys around! Have fun getting to know each other!” You wish that your innards were churned into chum then regurgitated onto Jimmy. You turn to look at Jimmy, you think about what Daisuke thought about finding you two in the closet, once Daisuke was finally out of view, you promptly vomited onto Jimmy.
Those liquid would for sure stain his uniform and the chunks made a disgusting plan into the floor after you then clutched your stomach. You groaned, unfortunately for Jimmy, he took you to the nurse station.
©ouchthathurts please don't translate, claim as yours, redistribute and/or plagiarize in any way. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#mouthwashing#ouchlovesthem#ouchlovesdaisuke#ouchlovesmouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#daisuke x reader#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing fanfic
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“cause I'm a jealous girl”
— ( 🎙️ ) " it didn't feel like that when you were talking to her" she says her eyes almost looking hurt and mad
— ( 🖋️ ) fluff and angst , arguing , jelous lara , swearing, possessiveness (?) , some parts are lyrics!, drugs , drinking , party ,if I have forgotten any tags please tell me mwa
— ( 🎬 ) new theme! hope you guys like it ^^ , my themes are heavily inspired by @/ninguitar so please do check out their blog
the party was packed—people were squished together , many were passed out drunk and not to mention some were taking drugs
the only reason you came here in the first place was for your girlfriend lara, she loved parties and lively energy that surges throughout the place—it kept her alive and thriving
as usual lara was drinking and having fun with some of her friends, you decided to stay in the corner with some liquor in your hands , taking a swig — the burning sensation quickly made it's way to your throat making you wince
"you look amazing!" you hear someone compliment lara, she in fact looked amazing—she truly is a masterpiece in your perspective
"thanks!—i could say the same about you" lara replies her hands are now on the woman's waist — a little too much for your liking but you trust lara she's just naturally friendly right?
"ooh someones jelly" manon teases as she looks at where you were staring, "am not" you said with the same playful tone , you were , actually you were very much jelous — lara should be with you not with her either way you let it be
"whatever you say — besides you are practically just sitting in the corner the whole night! , talk to people you might just make new friends" manon suggests which you took into consideration
wasting no time you lift yourself off the couch and walk towards the table where some drinks were placed , men were glued to this spot which icked you but you saw some girls here earlier , maybe they'll come back
"hi there!" you hear a woman say behind you , you turn around to be greeted by a short woman , you knew her she was talking to lara earlier — either way she looks nice and honestly someone you wouldn't guess goes to parties like these
"hii~ I'm y/n how about you?" you ask giving her a warm smile , "ezrela! , you're lara's girlfriend right??" she replies with the same enthusiastic voice
"yep! , and you participated in the dream academy too right??" you ask a bit of doubt in your voice since you weren't sure , "sure did! — it was honestly very fun" ezrela replies to which you ask more about
a good 20 minutes passed by and you didn't even notice ezrela was really nice and friendly, her humor was a lot like yours
you felt a pair of eyes glued to you , surprise surprise it's lara she was watching you and ezrela talk like you two had been friends since birth , gosh her rbf was stronger now
"i hate to say this but I have to go" you said frowning at ezrela, she smiles instead and asks for your number to which you gave her "see you soon??" you ask , "sure!" she replies
you walk towards your girlfriend who looked like she would beat the fuck out of you , you knew she could never but she just looked so mad
"you remember me?" she says her voice dripping in faux surprise, here it starts, you could never catch a break can you? , "what do you mean? love don't tell me you're mad"
"what — I'm not just curious what you guys were talking about , you were smiling like a stupid kid" she replied, first she said you look like a stupid kid which A. you didn't and B. shes just mad , second she was very jealous
"we were talking about her experience in the dream academy" you replied hands on her arms , you can smell the air around you it smelt like cheap beer and sweat but lara smelled amazing like a musky and fresh one
she didn't reply for a minute seemingly thinking about what you said her face was still — like rbf? or maybe confused you didn't know
"oh her experience?" lara said emphasizing her , her fists curl into a ball , you knew she wasn't mad at ezrela she could never that woman was like the sweetest soul you know next to yoonchae
"baby why are you mad?? — you know I love you right?" you said reassuring her , as you take her hands into yours massaging her palm with your thumb
"it didn't look like that when you were talking to her" lara says her eyes looking hurt and mad , you messed up big time
"baby I love you so much" you tell her kissing her lips, repeating the words like a mantra , "I love you so much, I'm all yours don't worry" you said as you place the last kiss on her hands
"really?" lara asks there was no doubt in her voice , you knew that she knew you loved her
"really, now can we enjoy ourselves — I can't waste the night when you look so pretty" you say a giggle escaping your mouth you walk her towards the middle and dance sensually to the song
"baby I'm a gangster too and it takes two to tango"
"you don't wanna mess with me (mess with me) cause I'm a jealous jelous jelous girl" she repeats the lyrics
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The Watcher ~ Part Two
Part One
Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Your parents work late on Friday nights, which you spend alone. Except you haven't been alone in a long time, not that you know of at least. Rafe has watched for years, he's very good at it. His idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when you catch him in your bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living. After you find the surprise he had left for you, you choose to believe that his threats were empty and try to turn him in. But, your plans are interrupted and you take an unexpected visit to Tannyhill.
Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the plot. Strong & descriptive language, suggestive themes, death threat(?), manipulation, kidnapping (?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!
Word Count: 3.5k
Author Note: Part Two is here!! I know this chapter is shorter than the previous, but I figured it's better to get what I had out. Also...I'm not sure if I like where this is going, so please share your thoughts about this part and ideas for future parts. Thank you all for the support on the first part of this story. Especially with this being my first work I've published on tumblr, I am very pleasantly surprised with how everyone has reacted to it. So, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!!
CREDITS: The foundation of this fic was heavily inspired by/ based off of one of @faiszt 's bots on character ai. So, if you like this and you like character ai, I greatly suggest that you check out the bot!
The blinding morning light shines into your room through your curtains. You sit up and rub your eyes. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand which currently reads: 10:34 am. Those sleeping pills really worked, you think. Your parents are already at the restaurant, probably just getting over with the morning rush.
Your eyes begin to focus, your brows furrow as your eyes land on one of the posts of your footboard. You lean forward to grab the pair of panties you had just worn yesterday which are hanging from your bedpost. You’re pretty sure you had put these in your hamper last night and wait, why are they sticky…? You wonder, you examine them and come to the realization of what it is. Immediately you toss them away, that was not from you. It was your stalker, it had to be. Of course, the first night you spend alone since four weeks ago and he already breaks in. And he does this? You think about his words, “tell anyone and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you”, shivers roll down your spine.
You hadn’t even had time to realize how horny you had been when you had woken up; and now that you have you feel so wrong. But your dream…oh god your dream. You can still remember it vividly, even more so the longer you think about it; you can see the face of the man who fucked you stupid in your dream. You know who it was, who your subconscious mind let you fuck while you slept. It was your stalker.
Without another thought, you’re in the shower scrubbing the shame and disgust from your skin—or at least attempting to. When you feel somewhat satisfied, which also happens to be when the water begins to run cold, you finally get out. Wrapping a plush towel around your freshly clean body, you lean over the bathroom sink and wipe the condensation from the mirror leaving just enough space to see yourself. Before the glass fogs back up you’re able to see a small part of what appears to be a bruise poking out from underneath the towel wrapped around your chest. You lean in closer using one hand to re-wipe the mirror and using the other to pull your towel down past your boobs. Looking back at the bruised area on your chest, you can see that the closer you look at it, the more it looks like a hickey. You just about stumble backwards at the realization.
You’ve had enough. After you quickly toss on some clothes, you grab your keys off your dresser with a shaky hand. You rush out towards your car and get inside, pulling out of your driveway carelessly and speeding off. When you arrive at your destination, you take a few moments to rethink this plan. You have to do this. You can’t keep living with some creep sneaking in your bedroom and touching you as you sleep. You twist the keys in the ignition and pull them out, you confidently strut towards the entrance of the building. When you feel the vibration of your phone in your pocket you pause, sighing as you reach back to take it out. When you read the random number, with the same Outer Banks area code as you, your brows furrow. Typically you wouldn’t answer a call from an unknown number, but something in you is telling you to answer. As you press the green button and bring your phone to your ear, you glance up at the building you were about to enter which reads, ‘Kildare County Sheriff’s Office’.
“Hello?” You ask warily.
After a few long seconds, the person on the other side of the line answers you. “Stop.” The man’s voice sends familiar chills down your spine.
“Excuse me?” You respond, your voice audibly shaky. “Who…who is this?”
“C’mon pup, you already forgot what I sound like? It’s already been that long?” Your eyes widen at the realization of who this voice belongs to. You’ve heard it one other time, well one time that you remember.
As your head darts around the parking lot looking for your stalker, your voice comes out in a tone that easily betrays you, revealing your fear, “No…no…what the hell do you want?”
Rafe smirks from his truck as he watches you from afar. “I want you to turn around and get back in your car, m’kay princess? And I highly suggest you do what I want.”
“Or what? What’s stopping me from walking in? Or from yelling for help?” You take a step closer to the building’s entrance.
“Stubborn, stubborn girl…” the man chuckles, “If you don’t get back into your fucking car right now, you’re gonna really fuckin’ wish you had just listened to me. I’m gonna get what I want no matter what, baby. You’re mine.” And with that, Rafe hangs up the phone, still watching you from a distance.
As much as you want to just run into the building and beg for help, you know that unfortunately since you’re a pogue, the cops aren’t going to believe a single word that comes from your mouth. In their minds, all pogues are liars and thieves. And since you don’t have the slightest clue on who the man you saw in your bedroom is, you figure there’s not much they’d be able to do even if they did believe you. So you reluctantly turn back to your car and get inside. The moment your door shuts you inside, your phone buzzes yet again with another call. It’s coming from the same number, but this time you don’t answer. This was your second mistake.
Rafe’s already pissed off. You went against his rules, you didn’t listen to him, none of this will work if you don’t listen. He thought he had been threatening enough that you’d behave, but clearly you need another scare. You need to be taught that disobeying him does nothing but hurt you more. When you don’t answer the phone when you definitely know it’s him calling, this is just the cherry on top; the icing on the cake. Rafe is fuming.
You drive out of the parking lot, breath heavy as you stay on high alert–searching for him. A truck suddenly pulls behind you, tailing right on your ass. You can’t see through the truck's front windshield due to the dark tint. You being paranoid, step on the gas and speed up a bit, well exceeding the speed limit. A few quick seconds pass by and you jump at the sound of sirens. It doesn’t take long for you to check your rearview mirror and realize that the sirens are coming from the truck behind you, which is flashing its red and blue lights. You let out a breath of relief. You’re being pulled over yet you’re relieved because it means you aren’t being trailed by your stalker. The feeling is short lived as you flick your signal on and pull off to the side of the road. You roll your window down and shut off the engine.
The officer approaches you and goes through the typical routine and you try to calm your nerves. All sound is drowned out as you get lost in your thoughts.
“Ma’am?”, the officer repeats. “Do you know why I’ve pulled you over today?”
The sharp and unintentionally threatening voice of the deputy snaps you out of wherever the hell it was that your mind had taken you to. “Yes, sorry sir, I…I was going over the speed limit.” You submit, wanting to get this over with. You can’t help but worry what your stalker would think if he saw this, he’d probably think you’re turning him in. But, you’re not. Really this whole thing was a misunderstanding, but you can’t explain that to the cop.
“And why is that?” He questions you ever further, his gaze staring at you intensely. You get nervous and want to look away, but you worry that might make you look guilty of something. You’ve been pulled over before, it’s not usually a big deal for you. However you’re just so goddamn nervous and need this moment to be over. You feel like you’ve done something wrong; like you’re hiding something. But you aren’t.
“I–I thought…I just got distracted sir, wasn't thinking about speed. I apologize for the inconvenience.” You catch yourself, technically you aren’t lying; you just aren’t explaining why you were distracted. The threatening words of your stalker still echo around your head. The deputy gives a small lecture as he writes up a ticket for you. Once he gets back into his truck and drives off, you rest your head back against the seat and let out the breath you’ve been holding. When you start your car back up and finally open your eyes, you look straight out across the road. You can see a tall man leaning against a truck parked across the road, staring right at you. The familiar grin on his face has you sick to your stomach.
After making direct eye contact with him, you pull off the side of the road and do an illegal U-turn so that you’re heading in the opposite direction, leaving the man behind. You know that he’s following you, so you drive around aimlessly until you get another call from the same unknown number. You want to decline, but you’re too afraid to face the consequences that might follow.
“What do you want?” You ask, voice full of faux confidence. The only thing you hear on the other side of the line is a heavy breath that causes your skin to become full of goosebumps.
After you’ve had a few moments to panic, he finally speaks, “Keep driving”. His words are not said lightly. This is undoubtedly a command, not an option.
“Keep driving to where?” You stammer with nervousness.
“Tannyhill.” He replies strictly.
“Tannyhill?” You question before being able to stop yourself. You can’t help the attitude that slips into your voice. When a few more moments of silence pass, you get more and more anxious for his response. “Hello…?” You ask quietly, wondering if you lost connection. Still nothing. “Hello?” You ask again with more volume. After another minute or two, you hear the phone beep; the call disconnects.
Why the hell does he want you to go to Tannyhill? It doesn’t make any sense. But you don’t exactly have a choice. He’s following you either way and it’s not like he doesn’t know where you live…and just about everything about your life. So, it’s probably best to just play along and obey his commands.
When you get close to the general destination, your phone rings with yet another call. You answer, already knowing who it's from. This time you don’t speak first, you wait to hear what he has to say. It takes a few moments, almost like he’s trying to wait long enough that you’ll talk. The silence starts to get unbearably awkward, but your mind is set on waiting for him to speak and Rafe doesn’t have the time to wait; having to give you directions and all. When he finally talks he doesn’t greet you. His voice breaking the silence startles you as he instructs you with the directions to get wherever it was he was forcing you to go.
“Wait…turn left h-here?” You ask, confused at his directions. You had missed the beginning of what he said since you had to collect yourself after being frightened.
He sighs in impatience, “No dammit, the next one. Were you not listening?”
“I…no I-I was listening–” you stumble over your words as you turn onto the street he wanted you to.
“Bullshit. You need to learn how to fucking listen to me, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, trying to focus on remembering the directions he gave you, it only serves to piss him off even further. “Huh?! Don’t you?!” He shouts into the phone as he follows behind you.
You whine in fear, “No..I can listen. I promise I can listen to you.” You practically beg. “J-just tell me where to go?”
Rafe directs you to his house, which you of course recognize as the Cameron’s mansion. You’ve heard about the Cameron’s, but you wouldn’t be able to point them out in a crowd or anything. Besides from the father, Ward Cameron, whom you’ve seen on the news several times. Is he a Cameron? As you park in the large driveway, you rack your brain trying to recall the name of the Cameron son.
His truck parks behind you, blocking your car in. He quickly kills the engine and exits his vehicle. You don’t notice him walking up to you until he’s yanking your car door open and pulling you out by the arm.
“R-rafe?” You mumble insecurely. He pauses to look at you, chuckling at your words. He mutters a quick ‘smart girl’ before retightening his grip on your arm and continuing to pull you into the large mansion. You start to cry, getting overwhelmed as you imagine the many possible scenarios that may occur. “P-please,” you manage to choke out. “What do you want?”
Unlike the last time you cried to him, this time he doesn’t stop. He drags you up one level of the large, spiral staircase; pulling you into his bedroom. As soon as you see the bed, you’re already feeling it beneath your back when he shoves you down just a few seconds later. As if you hadn’t already embarrassed yourself enough, you can’t help the tears that begin to stream down your flushed cheeks at a flooding rate.
“Wait…no, please, please!” The way you keep shouting and choking back sobs causes you to gag from how worked up you’ve gotten yourself. All the Cameron son does in response is lean back to get a full view of you as a smug grin spreads across his face. “Please, I—oh god, I’m gonna be sick…” You mumble, which is quickly followed by another gag that interrupts your constant sobs.
Rafe snakes his hand up from your arm to your hair, wrapping his first tightly around a large section of it. He tugs on your hair to force your head to look up at him, causing a small whine to escape your lips. “Shhh…baby, shhh…” He mumbles, his ‘worried’ tone working to oppose his previous amused expression. “Calm down, alright? Calm down. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want, m’kay pretty girl?” The way he says that last part…you’ve never heard his voice sound like that before. You didn’t even think he was capable of talking in that tone. He sounds like he might actually truly care about you. You’re relieved; maybe even a bit…comforted by the fact that he might be telling the truth about not doing anything you don’t want. Well, besides having you basically held captive in his home.
“What…what are you gonna do?” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to catch your breath so you can calm down.
“I just wanna talk to you baby. Alright?” Rafe mumbles your name into your ear, allowing you to feel his hot breath against the side of your face. Immediately you’re taken back to the first time you had met him, in your bedroom a few weeks back. You try to push that aside and bring yourself back to the present; the memory only brings back the feelings of complete and utter fear you experienced at that time. Not that the present was any better, hell, it was worse.
Hesitantly, you nod. He waits a few minutes to speak; waiting for you to catch your breath. Once you’re calmer, at least on the outside, he finally starts to talk. “I wanted to talk about my proposition…” He looks down at you, bringing his hand up to cautiously run through your hair. “Last time I got cut short…remember that?”
You nod. “I…I tried to warn you my parents would come home. I-I swear I didn’t tell them anything.” You say frantically, trying to prove your innocence.
“Hey, shh…it’s okay babe. I know. I know.” Rafe speaks slowly, his eyes never leaving your lips. He pauses to momentarily dart his tongue out to wet his parted lips. “I know. You haven’t told…you’ve been a good girl and listened to me, hm? Haven’t you baby? Haven't you been a good girl?”
You nod frantically. “I…I’d never turn you in…” The false seductiveness in your voice turns him off, if that’s even possible.
He pulls back from you and sighs, “Shut up.” He runs a rough hand over his buzzed head and begins to quickly pace across his bedroom.
“B-but you wanted to talk…” You remind him. The way his attitude was constantly shifting in great amounts had you furrowing your brows as you tried to figure him out.
“Yeah, I do. But not to a goddamn filthy, lying whore.” He retorts, a large grin appearing on his face while he watches your beautiful features move on your face, displaying your thoughts as you take in his words. “Just be yourself alright? I can always tell when you’re not you.” He says almost sincerely. “I want…I need you to want this. Don’t try to pull that fake crap on me ever again, yeah?”
Immediately you nod. “I…yes-”, you stammer, instantly regretting even trying to talk in the first place. Rafe chuckles, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He stops pacing and lets out a long sigh, turning to face you again. His steps pause when he’s standing just before you.
He leans down to whisper in your ear. “I really need this to work, okay…? This is good, this can be good for the both of us. I can help you; we can help each other, baby.” A silent tear rolls down your cheek from the fear of what’s to come. “I know…I know I messed up, alright? I know. But, you don’t have to be scared, baby. It’s all gonna be okay.” He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“Please…I just wanna go home, let me go home!” Your cries are ugly, and very, very real. The fear in your voice only worries him. Worries him that you may never get past this. But you have to. You don’t have another option. And he really, really doesn’t want to have to hurt you. That was never his intention.
“But you are home, baby. You are home.” He mutters as his fingers brush over your cheeks, smearing your tears. Your breath hitches at his words and your eyes slowly move up to meet his. This cannot be happening. Why is this happening? You think.
“No…please I…just let me go home. I won’t tell. I promise I won’t. I’ll…I’ll never tell anyone about any of this okay, I’ll never say anything about you.”
“I can’t do that, baby…you know I can’t do that.”
“Why not? I swear, I’ll never ever breathe a word of this to anyone.” You say enticingly.
Rafe sits down besides you, causing the mattress to dip and make you lean towards him. He puts an arm around you and his hand lands on the back of your head, pulling it into his chest.
He leans down to speak into your ear while his hand pets over your hair as you cry into his chest. “Because I need you baby, I need you. And I need you to let me take care of you, yeah? I know…I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. Just trust me okay…we’re gonna be so good together baby.” He tugs at your hair, gently guiding your face to look up at him. “Just listen to me and nothing will happen, I don’t wanna have to…do anything. I just need to know that you’ll listen to what I say.” Immediately you nod, going along with what he says. He tugs on your hair harder, eliciting a gasp to fall from your lips. “Ah ah, I know you can talk. You’re a big girl, now fucking act like it.” He says forcefully.
“I-I’m gonna listen, I’ll listen to you, just please, please don’t hurt me.”
He smiles softly as his eyes dart across your face, unable to pick a feature to focus on, everything about you is just too damn perfect. “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you, not as long as you listen.” His grip loosens on your hair again. “But you’ll be begging for it soon enough.” Rafe’s whispers are enough to make your sobs start again; in which he pulls your head back into his chest. Your tears soak into his shirt as you have no choice but to cry into him.
To be continued...
Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable. This part took quite a bit for me to finish, since life has been a bit busy and I haven't had much time to plan or write. I apologize for the short chapter, I'll try my best to make up for it with the next part! I never really feel done with anything and as I said before I'm not sure if I'm a fan of this part or not. So, if you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them in future parts. And there's not much I won't write!
#rafe cameron#drew starkey#obx season 4#outer banks#outer banks netflix#outer banks season 4#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#obx4part2#rafe x reader#outerbanks season 4#outer banks fanfiction#obx4#outerbanks x reader#outerbanks rafe#outerbanks fanfiction#thewatcher#perv!rafe#stalker!rafe#rafe x pogue!reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#pogue!reader#outerbanks x you#rafesbabyg1rl
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Comfort
Note: Hello, loves! I guess I disappeared again 😭 I'm sorry, there's been a lot going on these past few weeks, and I wasn’t feeling very well. This is my way of making it up to you ❤❤ I'm still working on the second part of "Shadows and Whispers", but I got sidetracked, and something totally out of my element came out of it. I’m really sorry if this turns out to be a mess, I’ve never written anything obscene and explicit before, so feel free to tell me if it’s terrible! Remember, English isn’t my first language, so if there are any mistakes, don’t hesitate to let me know! Please take care of yourself! Love you all! 💙💙💙
P.S. I didn’t tag anyone because I wasn’t really sure if you’d want it, especially after disappearing for almost a month. Sorry 😭😭
Words: +1k
Warnings: Obscenity
Summary: Reader goes to comfort Azriel after he's returned from a mission. However, things take a turn, and somehow she finds herself in a sinful situation with the shadowsinger.
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I still didn't understand how the hell I had ended up in this situation.
Or rather, how I had ended up in this position.
My intentions in arriving at Az were completely genuine and innocent. I knew him well enough to know that he was absolutely frustrated with how the mission had ended, just as I also knew that he would try to hide his feelings because that was his way of dealing with everything.
When I arrived at the River House, I found him sitting at the foot of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands tangled in his dark hair. He was so out of it that he didn't even lift his head when he heard me enter and he didn't bother to pick up his wings either, a strong indicator of his mood.
Seeing him like this made my heart ache, and the urge to comfort him took hold of me, so I didn't even think when my feet carried me directly in front of him. Somehow, I sneaked my hand in and gently placed it on his cheek, forcing him to look up. His shadows were scattered and restless.
I wasn't ready for what I found in his hazel eyes: loneliness and resignation. He didn't even try to hide it from me, and that was what scared me the most. I was prepared to face the big wall he put up when something emotional was involved, but I wasn't ready for the honest vulnerability that hit me like a blow to the cheek.
"Aziel..." I let out with a shaky sigh.
He shook his head and for a second my body went rigid as I felt his arms wrap tightly around my waist and rest his head on my stomach. I reacted and instinctively placed one hand on his back, in the middle of his wings, and the other in his hair, scraping gently with my nails. In response, a shiver ran through him, and I stopped my movements abruptly.
"No" It was the first thing I heard him say since I had entered "Please... Just... continue."
I nodded even though I knew he wasn't looking at me and resumed my movements. He relaxed against me and settled his head higher, right between my breasts. HIS shadows calmed down then, and limited themselves to passing through us occasionally.
"Az..." I tried again.
“Y/n…” he interrupted me, pressing himself tighter against my body. "I need this right now. Just... tell me to stop if you don't want it."
I didn't stop him, and he decided to explore a little more, brushing his nose against the edge of my breasts, making me shiver. One of his hands that was on my waist went down to my ass and squeezed hard, but at the same time slowly, as if he wanted to melt into my skin.
A gasp of surprise escaped my lips when I felt him place soft kisses on my breasts, near the nipples, covered only by an old shirt that was too big for me. He put it in his mouth, wetting the shirt, making my hands fly straight to his hair, tangling and pulling gently. A grunt of approval came from Azriel, and all logical thought vanished from my mind, leaving me completely blank and a prisoner of sensations.
His hands became bolder reaching for one of my perfectly fitting breasts and he squeezed, making me gasp.
"You're so beautiful" he said breathily and pulled my shirt up over my head.
My breasts were exposed, and directly at the height of his lips, so he did not hesitate to put them in his mouth. I just arched my back, delighted in the way he made me feel even though I knew this was wrong. Az was very vulnerable right now and it was a miracle that he was showing me this side of him.
That thought hit me like a bucket of cold water and brought my feet back to earth.
"Az," I called after a moment. "We can't..." I gasped as I felt him pull my nipple between his lips. "Listen, I don't think this is a good idea..."
"I need to feel you close. I need to know that you are here with me," he pleaded in a tone of voice I had never heard before, "Making you feel good will make me feel good."
"But I don't want you to think that I'm taking advantage..."
"I need this. I need you" he interrupted me.
That took my breath away and the way he looked like I was his only lifeline made me give in, so I finally nodded.
The shadowsinger rewarded me by leaving a wet kiss on my neck before separating for a moment to unbutton his leathers and reveal all his glory. I didn't hold back and gently touched his skin, trying to convey everything I felt through those caresses, trying to tell him that I was there for him and from the way he tensed where my fingers passed, I assumed he could understand it. I even brushed the edge of one of his wings and he shivered violently, not hiding the low moan that escaped.
His hands moved down to unbutton my shorts without leaving soft kisses combined with licks on my neck. I dug my nails carefully into his back, avoiding the membranes, and he let out a hoarse moan that went deep into my bones. He slowly slid my pants down caressing my legs in the process and then helped me out of them once they hit the carpet beneath my feet.
That's how I was left in nothing but panties in front of Azriel, who was looking at me like I was the only damn person in his life that he had ever wanted. I didn't feel self-conscious under his scrutiny, on the contrary, I had the feeling that he was memorizing me.
“Y/n” he called with rapid breathing “You are beautiful, fucking beautiful.”
His words also had more meaning, I realized. It was the second time he had told me this tonight and somehow, he managed to warm my heart.
The shadowsinger manipulated my body to his liking, so he gave me one last open-mouthed kiss right over my heart before turning me over, leaving me on my back now. I felt him fill my spine with kisses and hook his fingers on my panties, slowly lowering them until he left a kiss on my lower back that made me shudder.
Completely naked, she took me by the waist to place me on his lap. I could feel his hardness beneath me, and he hissed when I ground my hips together.
I was sitting in the middle of his legs, until he hooked one of his hands and put one of my legs over his, so that I was wedged over it, although I still rested my back on his chest.
Then he hugged me, imprisoning me in his arms and hiding his face in my neck. His hands then went down, directly to my center, and he began to touch me with gentle movements, slow caresses on the clitoris that made me gasp. A moan escaped from the back of my throat as I felt his fingers slide into my folds and curve them deliciously.
"That's it honey, let me hear you" he whispered in my ear.
He repeated the movement, and my body went crazy when he added another finger. Everything was slow and felt completely different, it felt more intimate, fuller of feeling. His fingers worked magic inside me while he caressed my clit with his thumb. It was too much, and I figured Az could sense it because he sped up his movements.
Another moan escaped my lips as one movement pushed me over the edge and the orgasm rippled through me making me tremble, sweeping through everything. Azriel did not stop his hands, prolonging the sensation and supporting all my weight, since I had practically collapsed on top of him.
After a few seconds, he did something that left me gasping, partly from the orgasm he just gave me, and partly from the sensual sight. He took his fingers out of me, not caring in the least about the mess, and sucked on them, looking into my eyes before resting his forehead against mine.
"Az" I whispered in between a gasp.
He lunged at my lips and there are no words to describe the way he kissed me. It was messy, a combination of tongue and teeth, but it felt perfect, like once in a lifetime, everything fit together.
I walked away after a moment, to catch my breath, and he grimaced as if it physically hurt him not to be around, to which I responded by standing up and climbing up behind him, only this time who hid his face in his neck. It was me, absolutely enjoying the skin-to-skin contact and the way he held me close to his bare chest and mine.
Az didn't care about the mess I was probably making on his leathers still wearing my fluids. He didn't seem interested in any of that.
"Thank you for staying," he said after a moment, wrapping his wings around us.
"You have nothing to thank me for," I responded, taking his face in my hands. "How are you feeling?"
"Good, now that you're here." He responded and for emphasis, one of his shadows caressed my arm with a cold touch, making me smile.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked as I ran a finger over the membrane of his wing again.
A shudder consumed him along with a gasp and he rested his head on my shoulder.
"Not yet"
I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck. Trying to give him comfort beyond words and show him that she was here with him. Not anywhere else.
#acotar#azriel#acofas#acomaf#acosf#acowar#sjm#azriel x reader#bat boys#i dont know what im doing#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster#azriel fanfic
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❝𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉❞
➤ ACT O. | FINAL
➤ FAREWELL DARK CACAO KINGDOM
“Ah? A letter from Dark Cacao Cookie?” the pure blonde questioned as the blue bird arrived with a letter.
The pure blonde gently grabs the letter and reads it. He perked up.
“....Who's…Dark Cacao Cookie…?”
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
“Your majesty, you have a letter from the Dark Cacao Kingdom.” Smoked Cheese Cookie announced while holding a letter.
“Oh? That's rich coming from someone who's always so grumpy!” Golden Cheese Cookie chuckled. “Read it for me!”
Smoked Cheese Cookie huffed then read the letter out loud. While through the letter, the general was interested, but also unsavory by the idea about the wanderer. Golden Cheese Cookie was interested upon hearing what's going on at the Dark Cacao Kingdom.
“Oh? A wanderer who ends the madness of those beasts that attacked the kingdom? Most of all, since when did that gloomy king become so soft?” Golden Cheese Cookie questioned. She then murmured, “...Hm…Should I trust him into my kingdom…?”
Smoked Cheese Cookie overheard her words, “A wanderer…there's something about him…”
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
“Oh-ho! A letter from my dear friend! I didn't know he missed me that much!” unnamed huntress laughed.
The unnamed huntress opened the letter. The female read through the letter from top to bottom and she couldn't help but burst out laughing upon reading it, “HAHAHAHAHA! It looks like Dark Cacao Cookie grew soft for this wanderer! I would like to see him for myself!”
“But unfortunately…I'm not in the kingdom at the time being…”
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
“Elder Faerie Cookie, it's a letter from the Dark Cacao Kingdom.” Silverbell Cookie called out to the guardian. “It was given to White Lily Cookie, but— Would you like to read it?”
“...?” Elder Faerie Cookie was going to hesitate but took the letter anyway. The elder faerie opened the letter and read them. His eyes widened with interest. The wanderer known as [Y] is someone that Millennial Tree has mentioned to him.
“Impossible…You mean…?” Elder Faerie Cookie gasped. Millennial Tree nodded, “I was surprised that it worked. I was able to give him the life stone to keep him alive.”
“But why? What if he remembers it all and destroy—”
“No worry, Elder Faerie Cookie. He won't be able to return back to the past. Besides…he’s the one who ended himself.” The spirit of the forest stated. The faerie’s eyes widened, “You mean to tell me that the lord ended himself? But why?!?”
“That's just a theory. I theorized that something inside him wished to end it all. He…was just a different cookie before being corrupted…” Millennial Tree frowned.
“...How did you know about that?” Elder Faerie raised his eyebrows. “Not many cookies knew how he was made nor knew if he was a different cookie. You weren't made when he was baked.”
Millennial Tree sighed, nervously fiddling his fingers, “...Will you believe me if I say that I've seen the one who created him was in my dream?”
“...!” Elder Faerie was taken back by this. He knows Millennial Tree wouldn't lie which is impossible not to believe him. “...Can't say that I don't…”
“The creator is someone I'm worrying about. They sometimes appear in my dreams, threatening me to hand him to them.” Millennial Tree furrowed his eyebrows. “But I will not allow that even if it risks my life. [Y] must live on with his new life as someone new. I cannot let him feel guilty of those sins he caused. He has the right to be happy and a second chance at life. Just trust me on this, Elder Faerie Cookie.”
“...If I were to meet this [Y], I'll see what he's capable of…” Elder Faerie sighed.
“This is him. The one who Millennial Tree Cookie was talking about…” Elder Faerie thought. He then turned to Silverbell Cookie, “Silverbell Cookie, here's someone I would like for you to trust once they arrive in the kingdom.”
“Huh?”
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
The next day, it's time for [Y] to leave. Most of the people really don't want him to leave because they admire him a lot. They give him gifts and souvenirs to show their gratitude.
“It's a shame to see you go, Sir [Y]...” One of the warriors frowned.
“Yeah. Without your help, we would've been done for…” another warrior said.
“I don't want to go either, but there's still more places to explore. I would like to know more about the outside world.” [Y] smiled. “Don't worry, I will return if you ever need my help. Just send me a letter. I have animal friends who can help you send the letters.”
“We won't forget your heroic act in saving the kingdom. We will honor you.” Caramel Arrow Cookie genuinely smiles at the taller male.
“Thanks, Caramel Arrow Cookie. I'm sure you're even more heroic than I am. It's a great choice to have you as the first watcher.”
“Remember, I've given you one of my specialties. The smell will follow wherever you go so you can think of me.” Affogato Cookie chuckled. The first watcher huffed, “Hope you're not poisoning him.”
“Why would I poison such a pure soul?” The priest glared at the female. “I'm only giving him something as a gift. I adore him after all.”
“Thank you, Affogato Cookie. I won't forget you or that ice cream coffee. It's one of the best ones I've ever tasted.” [Y] beamed.
“...!” Affogato Cookie blushed then looked away while fiddling with his staff, “A…ah. Don't worry, when you return, I'll make you more. I've left you a recipe in case you need it!”
“I'll be sure to remember.” The taller male nodded.
Crunchy Chip Cookie pushed Affogato Cookie aside, “Hey! We haven't finished our training yet! You promise that you'll teach me how to communicate with dragons!”
“Oh, right. We can continue when I return. Licorice Dragon would like to communicate with you while I'm gone. You'll be able to understand.” [Y] said then handed the short male a handmade whistle. “Since she's an ally, you just have to blow the whistle if you need anything. I entrust you to take care of her and her babies.”
Crunchy Chip Cookie saluted, “I vowed to protect the Licorice Dragons and the kingdom! If anything happens to them, I won't forgive anyone who harms them!”
“That the beast tamer for you.” [Y] chuckled, patting the male on the head, much to his please.
Dark Cacao cleared his throat to grab [Y]’s attention, “We thank you for protecting our kingdom, [Y]. We'll be looking forward to your next visit.”
“My pleasure. It was nice to be here. I was able to learn so much about this kingdom and meet new people. Thank you for having me here.” [Y] grinned.
Dark Cacao was a little taken back, but softly smiled, “I'm glad we were able to give you fond memories. You are free to enter the kingdom even if it's set. There's no need to wait for anyone to open the gate. They just open it for you.”
“I will remember. Thank you.”
“...” Dark Cacao Cookie wanted to give him one last gift, but he's not sure if he was prepared for it. However, he can't let [Y] leave with a gift from him. He remembers what he told himself:
ACTION SPEAKS LOUDER THAN WORDS.
“Well…bye. See you all again.” [Y] waved. The others excluding the ruler wave back to him as he is about to leave. Before he could leave, Dark Cacao grabbed him by the forearm and pulled him in a kiss, shocking everyone around him.
“M-my liege?!” the second watcher gawked.
The raven haired ruler pulled away and left without a word, leaving everyone flabbergasted. [Y] was more confused than shocked. He has seen his animal friends with their nose nuzzles together, but people who are his kind do mouth-to-mouth. So…that was his first kiss.
“Is that a normal way to say goodbye?” [Y] asked innocently. The denizens look at the male with concern.
“Pure soul doesn't know what a “kiss” is…”
“Ah…No, [Y]. It's—” Caramel Arrow Cookie leaned over and whispered in the taller male’s ear.
“Oh. Then is it ok to kiss you guys, I like you guys a lot.” [Y] asked.
The denizens were flustered by the fact that the wanderer admitted that he likes them, but the kissing is out of the question.
“N-no need.. “ Caramel Arrow Cookie sweatdropped. “I don't know if I could explain any further. How's his majesty doing?”
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
Dark Cacao Cookie was burning up. Kissing the wanderer then walking away, he must've thought the ruler is weird. A knock on his door was heard, “Come in.”
“My liege.” Caramel Arrow Cookie peek into the room. Dark Cacao Cookie sighed, “Did he leave?”
“Yes, he did.”
“...He didn't look disgusted, did he?”
“Well…more like clueless. He seems to like it, but he was bewildered on how it works.” The first watcher scratches the back of her head with a nervous smile on her face.
The raven haired ruler was astounded, but he found it amusing, causing him to chuckle softly upon realizing how daring the wanderer can be.
“Hahahaha…I see. Good to know.” Dark Cacao Cookie smiled fondly.
“His majesty has acted differently since the wanderer arrived. Seeing him smile for the first time is like a blessing. I hope nothing takes away that smile.” Caramel Arrow Cookie chuckled quietly.
╭ �� ❏. facts
┊ ⁞ ❏. there are so many things [y] still need to learn
┊ ⁞ ❏. dark choco cookie, here we come!
┊ ⁞ ❏. fire spirit once trying to get [y] to swear, but failed when wind archer find out
┊ ⁞ ❏. [y] may or may not have connection to the beast cookies
➤ chapter vi
➤ act i. | non-existent friend.
#cookie run kingdom#cookie run#cookie run x reader#crk x reader#crk x you#cookie run x male reader#cookie run x you#caramel arrow cookie#affogato cookie#crk x male reader#crk#crunchy chip cookie#dark cacao kingdom#dark cacao cookie#white lily cookie#healer cookie#pure vanilla cookie#hollyberry cookie#golden cheese cookie#smoked cheese cookie#silverbell cookie#elder faerie cookie#millennial tree cookie#beast cookies
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The Bad Batch
Here's a little theory for you to mull over; I sincerely wonder whether I am alone in thinking this. I could also be heavily exhausted over and influenced by the papers I had to polish off for some of my college courses, or perhaps motivated by the fact that I am re-watching The Bad Batch because most modern shows these days, in my opinion, disappoint. At any rate, here it is.
Why do we like the Bad Batch so much? What makes them relatable and/or realistic?
Upon meeting Omega, most of the Bad Batch behave in a very dad-like manner. This is not surprising, no. Plenty of memes and incorrect quotes have stemmed from this simple observation. They don't have all the answers and they don't know what to do with Omega half the time. That's the thing about dads... usually, they're just "winging it" and trying to do their best. Moms come with a built-in instinct to nurture. Dads come with a built-in instinct to protect and lead. Sometimes, dads aren't quite sure what to do with a crying infant or a struggling teenager.
Let's not forget... Hunter and the others are soldiers. That isn't to say they can't be kind or gentle; even the toughest men have their weak points. As a military brat, though, I have noticed that such a profession can mold a man, and at times they forget to "turn off" their seriousness when at home after having dealt with extremely hard situations. I really appreciate that the producers of this show didn't change Hunter and the others just to make them more approachable from Omega's standpoint. If they do change, it's gradual.
Do Hunter and the others think about the consequences of bringing Omega into their lives? *eyeballs toothpick man* With exceptions, of course. Well, until season three. The answer? Absolutely not. They believe they have the strength and ability to keep her safe, as most dads would. They believe they will always have that strength and ability. Let me break it down for you and give you a look into the brain of a dad:
Dad: *involved in a dangerous situation*
Dad: I can do that.
Dad: *remembers their child is with them*
Dad: Oh. Well, I guess becomes a life lesson. I've got you, kid. Just... don't tell your mom.
Dad: *keeps an eye out for anything suspicious*
Kid: *perfectly content*
I've heard it said that dads don't say "I love you" but show they love you. I personally have experienced both, but given the seriousness of most dads... I can see how that would be the case. At the very least, their actions speak louder than words. The Bad Batch are very much this way towards Omega. They put their lives on the line. They want to make her happy. Wrecker assembles a spot for Omega to call her own on the Marauder. Tech grabs her before an explosion can reach them. Echo has hugged Omega the most. Hunter is usually within three feet of Omega at all times.
The subtle gestures of kindness captivated all our hearts, I know.
Why?
It's Star Wars, a fictional universe. It's not complete fiction, though. Hunter and the others represent a specific kind of love. Fathers may be cautious and unsure at first, but eventually they want the kid by their side for everything. We've all seen the videos of dads using infants as pretend machine guns or making them dance, the kid's neck rolling lazily. Gently, of course. If they can't protect the kid from everything, they use themselves as a shield, which extends to good mothers, too, though that's not what this post is about.
Hunter and the others may be soldiers, but they embody the very spirit of fatherhood. This was such a wonderful theme to see develop despite the grittiness and action.
Phew, I feel like there was more I wanted to say, but I'm tired, so you're spared from more rambling.
#the bad batch#tbb#tbb spoilers#star wars#star wars tbb#fatherhood#fatherhood in star wars#star wars dads#tbb hunter#tbb wrecker#tbb tech#tbb crosshair#tbb echo#star wars the bad batch#I hope many of y'all have experienced a love like this#this show is so precious if you really think about it#they may be soldiers but they have hearts of gold and quite frankly we need more of that in shows#bring back fictional families that love each other#I'm so glad Crosshair came around eventually#Hunter is the ultimate dad like they're all ultimate dads but Hunter is special#“touch her and you're a dead man” like let's not forget Echo said this literally after only having known Omega for a short time
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Shuuichi had always found autumn a lonely time: his breath a haunting ghost in the air; branches stretching, naked and imploring, to an indifferent sky. His birthday, never a particularly populous occasion, was in November. After his first magazine profile, shortly before his twenty-first birthday, he had started getting mail about it from fans, which only made the lack of any in a personal capacity all the more jarring. The first time Natsume wished him a happy birthday, he barely kept the surprise off his face. Surprise, and something else, something tangled he couldn't quite name, despite his hard-won expertise in identifying and replicating emotions. There were too many facets, overlapping, mutually exclusive in a way that should have canceled out, but didn't.
Natsume said it awkwardly, of course. He seemed unsure if it was all right for him to acknowledge Shuuichi's birthday, given he'd only learned about it through some friend of his who was a fan, and only in the second year of knowing Shuuichi.
"Of course it's all right," Shuuichi told him, the wind pushing them forward as they walked side by side. "It's nice, actually." It was many things, but nice was one of them, so it wasn't a lie.
"It's just," Natsume said hesitantly, "I know birthdays can be complicated." Shuuichi had time to wonder how he could have found out (Did such a vast reserve of spiritual power allow a person to read minds?, he wondered, not for the first time), before Natsume continued, "When I was younger, it was easier if no one knew when my birthday was. Then there couldn't be any expectations."
Shuuichi thought, Garden variety childhood neglect, then. Nothing to do with those strange, fleeting years of having somebody to share birthdays with, or the years after, when he knew what he was missing. But Natsume wasn't wrong, either. He thought, briefly, of his own early birthdays, waiting to see if his father had remembered, and knew it must have been worse for Natsume. This kid, with his big heart, with his undampened spirit—or rather, dampened and in the process of undampening. Shuuichi felt a familiar rush of affection that didn't even hurt anymore.
"And now?" he asked Natsume. "How are you feeling about your birthday nowadays?"
He looked in front of him, at his breath, at those damn branches, giving Natsume time to respond. "I'm…still getting used to it," Natsume admitted after a moment. "It's weird, having people pay so much attention. It's hard to get used to. And…maybe I don't want to get used to it."
In case it stops, Shuuichi completed mentally. It was easier never to trust, and never to be disappointed. It hurt less. But it wasn't better.
Shuuichi turned and gifted Natsume a smile. He had so many different smiles: charming smiles, ironic smiles, selfie-with-a-fan smiles, smiles for when a stranger professes a desire to eat jelly beans out of one's belly button. Dozens upon dozens of smiles for every conceivable occasion, labeled and slotted into place in his mental storehouse. He had crafted them, each one; they were his tools, his currency. But this smile was one he felt like Natsume had created—or maybe it had always been inside him, in potentia, and Natsume had been the one to wake it up.
It was gentle, this smile. Like Natsume.
"It is hard," Shuuichi said. "But I'm proud of you." It didn't really make sense, didn't seem to follow directly from what Natsume had said, but Natsume ducked his head, embarrassed, and Shuuichi, feeling merciful, changed the subject.
Natsume took him home for dinner, where the Fujiwaras also knew what day it was, and where nobody said anything about why he didn't have anywhere else to be, anyone else to celebrate with. They thanked him for coming, like he was the one doing them a favor. Touko-san made a huge meal, a feast really, and in front of Natsume's foster parents that cat of his couldn't even make snarky comments about puny human lifespans. It was a good birthday, his best since…well, in a while.
They offered to set up a futon for him (it's already so dark, it's cold, all that time on the train!), but he had an early shoot in the morning. He was halfway home when he realized he'd left his glasses behind, but fortunately he always carried a spare. He wondered what the Fujiwaras thought his glasses were for, now that they knew he could see well enough to forget them.
Off the train, through the park, along the water. Twenty-five. A fake number. Most days he felt himself already an old man. The wind picked up, scraping the denuded branches against each other. He felt loud, present. With the noise he made wading through leaves, surely anyone could hear him coming from a block away. Unless, of course, it was drowned out by the sound of the wind, and their own wading.
A crack ahead, and something thumped to the ground. A small branch, snapped off, still covered in maple leaves. Ironic, that the bare branches should be fine, while this lively specimen, heavy with color, had fallen. But then again, those branches weren't dead, were they? Maybe it was their lightness that had saved them. And they would be green again, come spring.
His building now, thick with warmth. The elevator: a weary man, face and suit equally creased, heading home late from the office. His door, and now he was inside, taking his time untying his shoes, not wanting to turn on the lights, which were always depressing at night, glaring off white walls stark and unforgiving against the darkness.
He went over to the phone and plugged it in, in case someone tried to call him about the glasses. If Touko-san found them, she'd be sending Natsume out here with them as soon as possible, which wasn't necessary. In fact, maybe he should call them first and head off the possibility. What time was it now? Was it too late to call?
A ringing. Speak of the devil. He picked up the receiver, but suddenly it occurred to him this could be a curse call instead, not about his glasses at all. In his moment of hesitation, a voice came down the line.
"Shuuichi-san," it said, natural, like it hadn't been years since he had heard that name from that mouth. "Happy birthday."
A beat. His heart began to pound, knocking against his gums. The lizard burrowed frantically under a sleeve. Not Natsume, and not a curse. Or not the kind of curse he'd been thinking of. Shuuichi clutched the phone. He felt—what did he feel? Why must there be so many nameless emotions?
He didn't know what to call this. But he felt something stirring, a familiar sensation. A smile, a different one, dormant, waking up. It was groggy, and far from his mouth, but it was there, it was possible. It had been there, waiting, for spring.
"Seiji," he said, with a mouth that wasn't smiling but could learn how. "Hello."
#hexfest2k24#natori shuuichi#horrible exorcists#my posts#natsume's book of friends#natsuyuu fic#natsume yuujinchou
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Thoughts on Ghost Days by Jim Butcher (and possibly the earlier books, if they spill over into this post)
All of this is, as Harry observes, absolutely typical of his existence. Of course he can't just die, he gets sent back as a special unknown type of ghost to solve his own murder. And of course he shoulders like three different new obligations, makes a new friend, and adopts a criminal teenager within his first 24 hours of unlife.
Kinda love how quickly and understatedly he's incorporated the very latest familial revelation into his narration. He says something like "I'd lost the scar on my arm that I got while skinning a fish on my grandfather's farm" and it's so casual it almost slips by.
(Side note: I need to see his grandfather and his brother find out about each other now. I realize there has been no opportunity and these aren't exactly Harry's secrets to tell anyway, but please.)
Mort going "all cats can see ghosts, they just don't usually care" checked out completely, of course, but it was also perfect setup for Mister's "HELLO YOU'RE BACK MY HUMAN HI." Which. Oof.
Ways you can tell it's really Harry Dresden: 1) Mister hits him in the invisible shins, 2) he opens the conversation with a Star Wars quote, 3) he's talking a teenager into turning his life around.
Love all the Bob content in this one. Harry got to see how the other half lived and everything. (Though his amorality credentials are slightly tarnished by that heroic last stand of his. Which he'd better have survived.)
Everyone here seems like they're an inch from cracking, and I'm concerned for all of them, but they're DOING THEIR BEST. (Butters isn't an inch from cracking. He seems to be doing great, I'm very proud of him.)
Very glad and also a little amused that the Super Secret Safe Witness Protection Home for Maggie is... the Carpenters. I mean it absolutely should be, but it's also funny.
Of course Mouse exists equally in the physical and spirit world. I'd be more surprised if he didn't.
I DID have several moments where I went what about Thomas. why isn't your narration even mentioning Thomas, but the payoff of "I couldn't stand to face even the thought of what I'd done to him" made it make sense.
More general/Thematic thoughts:
Uriel and/or the narrative really said "You're going to take a good, hard look at the unintended consequences of your actions. And you're going to do it disembodied so you can process a little better."
There was something that really struck me at some points in the Lasciel period, and it's back again now: I love that when Harry crosses lines, not only is he capable of seeing it, but the reaction of the people around him is, "yeah you sure did cross a line! you did wrong. so stop doing it and get better, because you can. this isn't a slippery slope unless you decide it is."
He has! Free will! Contrition is always meaningful! Change is always possible! Harry is never allowed to write himself off. He is always told that he's capable of picking himself up and doing better - because he is. He's alive and human and that means he has as much hope as he chooses to hold onto.
That said, I also really appreciated the weight his choices in the last book are given here. It's so easy to just go along with "it was for Maggie, it was his JOB" (and it was his job), but this book made Harry and us stop and linger on both the lines he crossed and the unintended harm he caused.
(Though he is taking too much weight on himself. Martin maneuvered a lot of this into play, not to mention the ACTUAL Red Court. And there is something to be said for the SG-1 approach of "stop worrying about ramifications and just kill the ancient evil first.")
(Oh, now I remember! I was also thinking of Hunger Games re: this. Katniss and Peeta's defiance of evil was personally motivated and sparked a lot of unintended harm to others - but it was also the only spark that could have destroyed the machinery of evil. Not quite the same but made me think of it.)
ANYWAY. Speaking of crossed lines and harm caused: I was NOT prepared for the murder reveal.
It DOES explain so much about this whole book, especially in combination with the (not as shocking :P) reveal that he's only mostly dead. He NEEDED to know this. He needed to know and understand all the choices he made, and their results - and the lie that influenced him - if he was going to be allowed back to his body.
First, he needed to know there was no outside killer to worry about. He also needed to know that HE did this. All of it. Part of accepting culpability and facing his choices meant facing that there was a third murder on his account - because that is how he frames it - what he did to Molly and what he did to himself and everyone who loved him.
He also, most crucially, needed his free will reasserted, both by the manipulation being revealed to him and by Uriel balancing the scales.
Because a Harry Dresden who had given up on himself as the Winter Knight is a nightmare the world's not ready for.
Instead he's ready to give Mab new problems. :) She gets what she paid for.
Closing thought: If, when he finally gets back to the world of the living, he does not make at least one "mostly dead" and/or "really most sincerely dead" joke, I will be very disappointed in him.
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A race for love p.13
Hii guyss, I've been MIA these past few days but I'm back so I hope you enjoy this part. If you've missed part 12 or the other parts you can find them on my masterlist :)
Formula 1 is all about speed, but in this story, the real race isn't just on the track. Read on to find out who will win the ultimate race-for your heart.
- Spa 2023 -
The roar of the F1 practice fills the air as you and Franco spend time together, tucked away from the frenzy of the paddock. The atmosphere between you is light and playful, and it feels like a small escape from the hectic weekend. You lean into his side, his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders as you chat about nothing in particular.
Franco's laugh rumbles softly as you recount a funny story from earlier in the week. "Me encantas," he murmurs, his voice teasing but affectionate. "You always know how to make me laugh."
(I'm crazy about you)
You smile, looking up at him. "I try."
As the F1 practice comes to an end, you know you need to head back to the motorhome before your absence is noticed. "I should probably go," you say reluctantly, pulling away just enough to look at him. "My dad's probably wondering where I am."
Franco sighs dramatically, giving you a playful pout. "¿Ya te vas? I was just starting to enjoy my time with you."
(You're already leaving?)
You laugh, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "I'll see you later, okay?"
He smirks, his fingers brushing over your hand. "I'm holding you to that."
With a soft smile, you turn and start walking back to the McLaren motorhome. As you make your way through the paddock, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out and see a message from Oliver.
Oliver: Heyy, we haven't really seen each other much this weekend. I'm going out with some friends tonight and I was wondering if you would like to come?
You smile at the message, thinking it could be nice to spend some time with Oliver and meet some of his friends.
You: That sounds great! I'm in.
Oliver's response is almost immediate.
Oliver: Awesome! I'll pick you up later, around 8?
You agree and pocket your phone, looking forward to the evening. Later in the afternoon, just as you're finishing up some tasks with your dad, your phone buzzes again. This time, it's Franco.
Franco: ¿Oye, quieres vernos más tarde? After the F3 meetings, I'll be free.
(Hey, do you want to hang out later?)
You hesitate for a second, remembering your plans with Oliver.
You: I'm actually going out with Oliver and his friends tonight. He invited me earlier :/
There's a slight pause before Franco's next message comes in.
Franco: Oliver? No sabía que te llevabas tan bien con él. But that sounds fun. Enjoy!
(I didn't know you got along so well with him)
You can't help but notice the hint of surprise in his words. Franco clearly didn't realize how well you knew Oliver. You send him a quick message back, trying to reassure him.
You: Yeah, he's been really nice to me when we've seen each other at the paddock. I'll see you tomorrow, though!
Franco: Está bien. Have fun, princesa.
(It's fine)
His use of "princesa" makes you smile, but as you finish reading his message, you wonder if Franco's reaction means something more. You shake off the thought, focusing on the excitement of the night ahead with Oliver and his friends.
Later that evening, as you're finishing getting ready for your night out, you hear a knock on your door. You grab your things and open it to find Oliver standing there, flashing his signature grin.
"Hey! Ready to go?" he asks, giving you a quick once-over. "You look great, by the way."
"Thanks!" you reply, smiling at the compliment as you step out. "So, what's the plan?"
"We're grabbing dinner first, nothing too fancy, and then we're hitting up this arcade. I figured something fun, not too serious," he says with a wink.
You can't help but laugh. "An arcade? That sounds amazing."
Oliver chuckles as you both walk toward the car. "Yeah, figured it'd be something different from the usual paddock chaos."
Soon, you arrive at a cosy restaurant, where a few of Oliver's friends are already seated, chatting and laughing. The vibe is immediately welcoming, and you quickly feel at ease as they wave you over to join them. You sit beside Oliver, and soon the table is filled with the hum of conversation, jokes, and stories.
As the dinner progresses, you find yourself having a great time. Oliver's friends are fun and laid-back, making you feel like you've known them for ages. The conversation flows easily between racing, life in the paddock, and random banter that has everyone laughing. Even though you've spent so much time in this world, being part of this relaxed atmosphere feels refreshing.
Oliver, meanwhile, steals occasional glances at you, watching how you laugh with his friends and how naturally you fit into the group. He can't help but think about how easy it is to be around you, how you seamlessly fit into his life in a way that feels... right. He's never felt this way before about someone, and as he listens to you talk, he realizes that he really likes having you around—more than he expected.
"Wow, sounds like you're going to have a packed year," one of Oliver's friends comments when you mention your upcoming studies in aerospace engineering.
"Yeah, it's going to be a lot," you admit, smiling. "But I'm excited. It's something I've always wanted to do."
Oliver leans in a bit, giving you a playful nudge. "You'll handle it. You've got the brains and the determination. Besides, who knows, you might end up designing something for the cars one day."
You laugh at his comment, but inside, you appreciate how supportive he is. Throughout the dinner, Oliver makes sure you're part of every conversation, and each time you catch his eye, there's a warmth there that makes you feel comfortable and welcomed.
As dinner wraps up, Oliver glances at his friends before turning to you. "You ready to show off your arcade skills?"
"You bet I am," you say, grinning. "I'm not going easy on you, by the way."
He smirks, shaking his head. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
As you all head toward the arcade, Oliver can't help but feel a growing sense of something deeper. Tonight has only confirmed what he's been thinking all along—you fit perfectly into his life, and being around you just makes sense. But, when will it be the right time to confess his feelings for you?
Tag list: @hs2016, @a-beaverhausen
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#oliver bearman x you#oliver bearman x reader#ollie bearman#oliver bearman#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto x reader
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Ep 4 :)
#I LIKE Dostoyevsky. I like how mysterious and unreadable he is. What is his goal!!!! Why does he do what he does!!!!!!! He's very cool#I think knowing his ability now REALLY adds to his character. Him being so smart so manipulative so disruptive in the way he–#seemingly kills people on touch! Only added to this impression of him being “demon” and “inhuman”#But now that we know his ability you realize... That's all his doing; no ability.#His ability in a way does help humanize him by reaffirming that except for the moment he dies– he's got no superpower at all!!!#It's just him.#And yet at the same time also solves the exact opposite role of dehumanizing him because if it's not his ability that makes him like *that*#then he's even different than other ability users!!! Then‚ if not an ability user‚ if not a non ability user: what is //he//?#It's all SO compelling!!! Also makes for an extremely insightful narrative parallel with Dazai#Not an ability user not a non ability user. Not good not evil. (I feel like Dostoyevsky does exceed the definitions of good and evil as–#much as Dazai does. If he causes evil‚ yet does so with the intention of bringing salvation to humans– is he really *simply* evil?)#Both have these borderline superpowers that make them extraordinary beings (we can call it super intelligence‚ but it goes from controlling#their own heartbit to everything else) but are unrelated to their respective abilities! Once again making them neither this or that#I find Karma's words at the end to be extremely insightful.“Ace was evil for sure‚ but this man isn't even evil.#He's a being from the beyond. A being that exceeds human limits.” Like!!! That's all that there is to it!!!!!!#Back to this chapter / episode. There's some themes / worldvies once again I don't agree with but narrative wise I think it's extraordinary#I feel like after the Guild arc the writing really matured a lot and this is a kind of preview of what the doa arc is going to be like#(aka very very well written especially if compared to the previous arcs)#The plot twists of this episode are all so unpredictable and exciting!!! I think it's remarkably witty how it takes advantages of previous–#clichés - villains always revealing details about their own ability in a way that is quite baffling - to actually surprise the audience.#It's so effective. How skillfully unpredictable Dostoyevsky is to the point you can never guess what he will do next!!!#Him killing Karma is... Idk so so soooooooo interesting. I could talk about this forever but I'm being very dispersive in the rable and–#running out of tags. The whole episode you're sorta rooting for Dostoyevsky. He's very cool and comes out charming in the way he keeps–#surprising the audience. He looks bothered by Ace's disregard of other people's lives and that makes him sympathetic too.#But then he kills Karma out of nowhere and it's an “Ah! You fell for his lies too– remember he's nothing but evil. He cares just as little#about life as Ace does”. And then??? Karma in his last words is himself so generous in his words to Dostoyevsky. It's baffling.#And it almost feels like thenarrative is once again turning around and telling you you should root for Dostoyevsky.#It's endlessly fascinating.#I have more to say about the worldviews I don't share and the art style Dostoyevsky was portrayed with this episode (love it!!)#But alas ran out of tags
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Last man standing (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Damned#ZEX#It's lonely at the top :(#Poor dearest is worse for wear ah </3#This scene made me cry ;;#Like it was sad when he wrote down his missing canonmates but going back in and writing everyone else's names ;;;;#Even his shaky alliances! Even the people he hasn't seen for a while!! Wehhh <3 <3 <3#You soft heart ;; I see you Admiral ♥#Also had a lot of fun writing in VUK ZIX again hehe ♪#The translations from VUK ZIX to English aren't exact - for starters they're upside down haha#So if you started from the top down it would actually read KINLEZ NATPAK but I figured that wouldn't be as readable#You read from the bottom up! I also still headcanon it being written/read from left to right#So he started with Zelnick then Fwiffo then Tanaka and so on#Although I did change it up for the second one - Teisel then Xelloss then Xigbar then Asch and Van#The more I think of it the more I'm surprised there's no H :0#Even just as a demarcation of a pause before during or after a syllable#The ''sh'' sound makes complete sense tho hehe <3#Any incorrect shaping of letters/poor handwriting on my part can totally be chalked up to ZEX not being used to human hands!#Totallyyy lol#I really like the way specific syllables are shaped - like how Teisel and Zelnick almost share the same shaped between ''SEL'' and ''ZEL''#How Z is a more connected extension of S just agh it's so pretty <3 <3 Eco_Mono really did such a lovely job with it ♪#And then certain ''incorrectly'' spelled syllables still turned out so pretty! Like the ''ANA'' in Talana - look how swoopy and continuous!#The ''BAR'' in Xigbar looks really cool - honestly reminds me of the fanweapons I made ages ago for I? think? Xigbar's apprentice??#It's been too long I don't remember now lol but it's cool to me in particular because of that!! :D#Fwiffo looks so funny haha - Tanaka has a cool star-like kind of letter in his name?? Man it's just so neat <3#As for ZEX - I mean he made it this far :( Not one to give up easily that's for certain ♥ Tenacious#I want him to be happy :'0
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oof i've just finished my first drawing in a YEAR that's crazy idk how i managed to last so long without drawing BUT it turned out really well and i'm proud!! i have to draw the second piece to go with it before i post it though but man was it good to draw again
#it's a good omens fanart btw#i really like how it turned out and i'm really surprised i even remember how to draw at all haha#it took me a LONG time to finish it because 1) i decided to try out a fun new coloring technique and it always ends up like that#2) i did NOT have the time/brain to finish it these past few weeks even though i started drawing it like 2 weeks ago#but i finished it yayyy#i have too many wips that i never finished so i'm really proud of this one 🫶#it's really late why is it so late#why does time fly so fast whenever i start drawing#that's why i can never find the time to do it these days lol#btw in the meantime i finished a smaller piece for my friend and i'll post it in a bit!!#i drew it a few days ago#so well maybe that one is actually my first drawing in a year 😅#even if i started drawing it later#if i'm not making any sense it's because it's really late. btw. so ignore it 🫶#my post#personal
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.
#hi im having a bad night and everyone is allowed to ignore this i literally just need to rant#.........................................................................#................................................................................................#.............................................................................................................#.........................................................................................#........................................................................................................#..........................................................................................#it's just not fucking getting better is it#I've been fucked in the head for 3 weeks cus I cant stop thinking about how 4 years ago this time I was at the psych ward#and honestly? I lowkey wish I was again. it was the most stress free period I remember ever having in my life.#and I'm getting more tired and it's causing a lot more bad days and days I'm too tired to talk to people properly#and of course. that has the same consequences it always does. I'm not fucking surprised.#but it's spiraling me right back into feeling like the worst friend in the world which in turn makes me convinced no one actually likes me#that everyone is secretly just fucking annoyed with me but no one is saying it out loud cause everyone else is pretending to like me too#and the worst thing is I'm supposed to go meet a bunch of people in Helsinki in 10 days but I feel like no one really cares if I go or not#probably even prefer if I didn't uknow I'm not really part of that group the same way the others are#I'm fucking terrified of sticking my nose where I'm not wanted.#and obvs if I was a normal fucking person I'd just talk to people and make sure we're still good and no one hates me#but I'm ill and exhausted which has my social battery in the fucking negatives and I just cant do Conversations rn#which. is the exact fucking problem. literally here I go again. this is why people hate me. this is why they leave.#and I cant fucking blame them. if being friends with me is like talking to a brick wall half of the time#why would anybody bother? I cant expect them to. I don't expect them to.#the question is do I wait til everybody drops me or do I make it easy for everyone and just go away myself.#..#anyway. like said my social battery is in the negatives anyway & I just wanted to scream.#no need to react to this in any way. not like I'll have the energy to answer 🙃#im gonna go watch stupid lets play videos and try not to cough my lungs out#cheers.
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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.
It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.
To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.
This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.
Join me below, if you would.
2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.
Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.
It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.
But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.
The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.
“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”
“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”
We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.
"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?
The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.
We had slightly miscalculated.
Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.
“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”
“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”
“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”
“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”
And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.
00000
We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.
It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.
At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.
Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.
So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.
“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.
“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.
Monday is the last day to do this, after all.
00000
So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.
The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.
“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”
So.
Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?
Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.
It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).
Then it starts to rain.
We had not dressed for rain.
00000
Here is how the next six hours go.
We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.
Everyone is so happy.
Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.
People online start making delivery orders.
Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.
A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.
The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.
A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.
Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.
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We have Line Neighbors.
Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.
The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.
Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”
“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”
“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”
My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.
“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.
“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”
We stay in line.
It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.
The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.
We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.
It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.
They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.
We still have a -long- way to go.
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They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.
It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”
We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.
We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.
I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.
The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.
Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.
The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.
A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“
The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”
We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.
If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.
That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.
There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.
We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)
I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.
There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.
Then we're married.
Then we get in line to get our license.
It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.
Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.
We make it to the marriage records office.
I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.
It's almost 3PM.
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There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.
We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.
I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”
He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.
Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.
We get back to our car and climb in.
It’s 4:30 and we are starving.
There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.
We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.
We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.
The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.
My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”
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It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”
But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.
It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.
I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.
We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.
Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.
It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.
Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"
And that was that.
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When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.
I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.
I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.
I never thought I’d live in this world.
And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.
I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.
The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.
And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.
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