#if he’s reminded of the times he was looking at the stage; seeds of a bright dream budding & growing
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hooned · 9 months ago
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riki when he saw a child engene in the crowd ⭐
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pretzel-box · 2 months ago
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STREAMER AU MASTERLIST HERE
CHAPTER 6: I AM RIGHT AND I HAVE WON
tags: I don't know how to tag this? Painter exposes Allison?
words: 4k
authors note: I am not happy with how I wrote it, I blame the lack of a laptop.
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In the span of three weeks, moved five individual people in five individual places.
Sebastian was the first,
After Allison had exposed his roommate a week ago, he was confused, angry and somewhat surprised. The man found himself glancing at everything that was connected to you, the bedroom door, the empty work desk, the chinese takeout shop and most importantly the second helmet for his bike.
This particular helmet wasn't really yours but you wore it so much in the past that it was basically owned by you.
Those little things conflicted him dearly, since he was sure, even with your weird love-hate friendship, did you both co-existed pretty well.
Yet, even as those small reminders tugged at him, Allison's words kept looping in his mind.
They set you up, you know that, right? she had said, her voice laced with feigned concern. All this time, they’ve been playing you—just so they could stay close to Solace. You're just a pawn.
Sebastian couldn't shake it off. The idea that you, the person who had shared his space and a fragile, weird friendship with him, might have been using him gnawed at him. He hated how much it made sense. Allison had laid it out perfectly—too perfectly, in hindsight—but in the chaos of everything, it sounded believable.
The constant replay of that accusation left him uneasy, and now every memory was tainted with doubt. The late-night laughs, the casual banter, even the tension that always bubbled beneath the surface. Was all of that staged? Was your connection to him just a ploy? He didn’t want to believe it, but Allison’s words had already planted the seed.
And then there was the part that unsettled him the most.
According to Allison, you loved him, in a way that bordered on obsession. She had claimed that every time you looked at him, it was with a deeper attachment than he’d realized—something beyond friendship, beyond even the regular crush. It was an unhealthy fixation. He was the center of your world, and it had all been hidden behind the mask of your chaotic yet comfortable interactions.
Sebastian felt conflicted. He hadn't noticed anything like that before. Sure, you had your quirks, but it never crossed his mind that it went that deep. Maybe he missed it because he'd never seen you in that light.
But that’s where the real problem lay—what he didn’t know was that Allison’s words were a lie, carefully crafted to make him doubt everything. You didn’t love him in that unhealthy way, and you’d never set him up. But the damage was done. The seed of doubt had been planted, and Sebastian was starting to wonder if everything between you had been a game all along.
Sebastian only found comfort in a single person right now, his best friend.
He swung his leg over his bike, secured his helmet, and drove off to visit his friend once more.
The second was Mama Solace.
Sebastian’s mother had finally found the time and money for a much-needed vacation, and it just so happened to be close to her son. A coincidence? Perhaps not. She loved Sebastian fiercely, more than life itself, and it was time once again to remind him of that with one of her unexpected, affectionate visits.
The last time she had dropped by was when you first moved in, becoming Sebastian’s roommate.
Oh, how she adored you from the moment she laid eyes on you. You had all the qualities she dreamed of in a partner for her son—sweet, caring, and just the right amount of fierce. She saw the connection between you two right away, even if Sebastian refused to acknowledge it. In her mind, you were already the perfect match for her precious boy. You had no idea just how often she'd drop hints, trying to nudge Sebastian toward you, much to his exasperation.
But that was Mama Solace—she loved to meddle in the most loving way possible. This visit would be no different.
She sat in the comfort of the plane, ready to depart from her home country to meet you two again.
The third person was Allison.
She darted around a local clothing store, her father’s credit card clutched in her manicured fingers like it was a divine gift. Her gel nails clicked against the plastic as she browsed the racks, the shopping spree a temporary balm for the simmering rage she felt toward you. Her irritation with you had long passed the point of tolerable, and only the thrill of buying something new could calm her nerves.
How dare you disrupt her carefully laid plans? All you had to do was stay in your lane, accept your role, and everything would have gone smoothly. But no—you had to get in the way, threatening the perfect web of control she thought she had spun. The plan had been flawless, but now, with every step you took, you were messing it all up.
Sebastian, thankfully, was still in the dark about everything. He was too distracted, too wrapped up in his own confusion to see the truth right in front of him. But that was fine with her. Allison believed she held all the cards. She had you, Sebastian, and the whole situation under her control—or so she thought.
She smiled to herself, picking up a striking red dress—perfect for her next date with Sebastian. The fabric would hug her in all the right places, showing off her figure. In her mind, it was only a matter of time before he saw her the way she pretended to see him, and this dress would be another step toward that.
As she stepped up to the cash register, her confidence faltered when the cashier swiped her card and it declined. Her father was still furious with her, apparently. She gritted her teeth in frustration, but quickly smoothed over her expression. She wasn't about to let this minor inconvenience ruin her day.
Without missing a beat, Allison pulled out her phone, her fingers dancing across the screen like it was second nature. She knew exactly how to handle this.
"Hey, handsome," she texted, her words dripping with flirtation. "Mind helping your favorite girl out?~"
It was easy—too easy, in fact. She had gotten used to manipulating situations to her advantage, and she was confident Sebastian would give her money. He always did.
Then there was Painter.
While Allison paid with Sebastian’s help and strolled out of the shop, Painter quietly entered his own—at the other end of the city center. Today, the usual sleek black suit made from expensive cotton was left in the closet. Instead, he wore a casual outfit: thrifted brown pants, a simple white shirt, and a green checkered vest that his mother had picked out for him years ago. He never liked it at first, but eventually, he came to admit—green was definitely his color.
Dressed like this, Painter looked like any other trendy, laid-back guy. You'd never guess he was the heir to Urbanshade, one of the most powerful companies around. His father had been grooming him for years to take over, especially after Painter managed to graduate from Yale with top honors. He was the pride of the family—a model Ivy League student, exactly as his parents had always hoped for.
But unlike his friend Sebastian, who lived by his own chaotic set of rules, Painter was always one of those people who excelled in everything, effortlessly. To the outside world, he was the golden child, the genius destined for greatness.
Yet for Painter, it was all a curse. His intelligence, his success—it only weighed him down, shackling him to a future he didn’t want. His heart was never in the world of business, but his family couldn't see that. To them, he was the prodigy who would continue the legacy. To him, it was a prison. The more success he achieved, the more trapped he felt.
It was why he enjoyed days like this—disappearing into the city, blending into the crowd where nobody knew or expected anything from him. Just for a little while, he could pretend to be someone else, a simple tech shop owner that tries to raise his own money to open up a small art studio instead.
While he worked, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the keys of his laptop, his thoughts inevitably drifted to you. He had seen you a few times with Sebastian in the city, always from a distance. Yet, despite never formally meeting you, he knew more about you than you could have imagined. Sebastian had talked about you often, and though Painter stayed in the shadows of your life, observing from afar, something stirred in his chest whenever he thought of you.
It was ironic, really. He was so familiar with the details of your existence, while you didn’t even know he existed. You were unaware of the person quietly watching your story unfold, aching from the sidelines. There was something about you that captivated him—perhaps it was the way you seemed to bring a kind of life to those around you, or maybe it was simply how you existed in Sebastian’s orbit.
But there was one thing that bothered him more than anything: Allison.
It pained him to know how she had manipulated your life, how she had sunk her claws into Sebastian’s world and, by extension, yours. Painter had known for some time what Allison was up to, and unlike Sebastian, he could see right through her facade.
Just like Allison, Painter had developed his own plan.
But his wasn't born out of selfishness or jealousy. It was something else—something more complex. While he hated to admit it, he wanted to find a way to cross paths with you, to help you in a way that would loosen the hold Allison had over you. And maybe, just maybe, he'd get closer to you in the process.
Though Painter’s mind was sharp, his heart was tangled in emotions he didn’t yet fully understand.
The last person who could understand Painter’s feelings was you.
You were navigating the city streets, your hands busily typing on your phone, trying to figure out where exactly you needed to go. With your streaming account temporarily banned, you had decided to get your laptop fixed—the keys were loose, and the screen was slightly cracked. The device had been with you for years, but it was clearly on its last legs. Maybe it was time for a new one, but for now, fixing it seemed like the easier option.
Eventually, you spotted it: a neat little shop with good reviews online. It seemed like the right place, and with a deep breath, you stepped inside.
Immediately, the smell of coffee greeted you. The shop had a warm, comfortable atmosphere, far cozier than you’d expected for a tech repair spot. There were shelves lined with new devices, a small selection of popular games, and a table for waiting customers. Despite the welcoming vibe, the place seemed empty—except for a young man at the counter.
He caught your eye right away, dressed in a casual yet stylish outfit that seemed effortless. His name tag drew your attention next, and you noticed something curious: an elegant name had been crossed out with a dry black marker, replaced with a word scribbled hastily over it—"Painter."
You weren’t sure what to make of him, but something about him seemed different. And without knowing it, the moment you stepped into the shop, you had walked into his world.
"Uhm, hi?" you greeted, your voice breaking the silence.
The young man behind the counter stared at you, caught off guard as if you had walked in at the worst possible moment. His eyes lingered on you for just a second too long, making the situation feel a bit awkward. There was something about the way he looked at you—almost like you had thrown him off balance. The way his gaze fixed on you, wide and a little too intense, made you wonder if you’d interrupted something.
"Oh, h-hello! Welcome, greetings. How can I help you today?" he stammered, clearly flustered. His response was a mix of polite and awkward, as though he hadn’t expected anyone to walk in. Maybe he wasn’t used to customers, or perhaps he was just an intern still getting the hang of things. Either way, he seemed utterly unprepared.
You smiled politely, deciding not to dwell on his awkwardness. "I’m here to get my laptop fixed," you explained, pulling the device from your bag and setting it on the counter. "It's been acting up—some of the keys are loose, and the screen's a bit cracked."
He nodded, though you noticed his hands were a bit shaky as he reached for the laptop. "Right, of course. I’ll take a look."
As he started inspecting the device, you took a moment to glance around the shop again, feeling oddly comfortable despite the rocky start to the conversation. There was something about him, though—his nervous energy, the way he seemed to be trying so hard to maintain a professional front. It was endearing in its own way.
What you didn’t know was that Painter wasn’t usually like this. Normally, he was calm and collected, able to handle even the most difficult situations. But the moment you walked in, something shifted. He had seen you before, from a distance, but never this close, and he wasn’t prepared for the rush of feelings he hadn’t even realized were there.
A small, unspoken crush had quietly crept up on him. He didn’t know why, but there was something about you that drew him in. And now, standing there with your laptop in his hands, he was doing his best to keep it together.
"I can take a look at it later. I’d say you can pick it back up… in like a week?" Painter offered, casting a polite smile your way. His expression was calm and professional, but beneath that exterior, his heart was racing.
You nodded, accepting his answer. After settling some details, you left your beloved laptop in his care, trusting him with the task. It felt strange to part with it, but the shop seemed reliable enough, and Painter—despite his awkwardness—seemed competent.
As you exited the store, you had no idea what you’d just set in motion.
For Painter, this wasn’t just a simple repair job. When you left your laptop with him, you unknowingly handed him exactly what he needed—the tools to execute the plan he’d been carefully crafting. Allison had been manipulating both you and Sebastian for far too long, and now Painter had the opportunity to expose her for what she truly was.
Your laptop would be the key to unraveling her schemes, and he was determined to set everything right, even if it meant crossing a few lines along the way.
Five people had already been moved. Now, it was Painter's turn to move them again, or at least some of them.
He had you exactly where he wanted. You left the shop, your laptop in his possession. That was step one. Now, he had to breach your digital privacy. He’d never done anything like this before, and the thought of doing what Allison had once done left a heavy weight in his gut. Yet, as soon as you left, he got to work. The laptop was old, practically ancient, but logging into your profile was easy—there wasn’t even a password. Your naivety was almost charming.
Everything was there—passwords, emails, data, and every digital memory. It was essentially Jelly’s—no, your—entire identity, captured in one place. He could call Sebastian, expose the laptop, and reveal his nasty girlfriend’s secrets. But no, Painter was above that. He preferred to play god.
His personality was usually against it but he will gladly bend the rules for his best friend…and his own potential crush.
Step two was breaching the streaming website to reclaim your account. A task simple enough for a Yale student with the right tools. Allison thought she'd been 'Jellycatfished,' but now it was Painter in control.
The account was exactly as you and Allison had left it. He couldn’t resist clicking on one of the stream recaps, your voice filling the room through the laptop speakers. There it was—undeniably yours.
He snatched his phone off the counter and dialed a number.
“‘Delia, bring the camera and the good microphone. We’re shooting something at the shop.” Cordelia, another worker in the store and a small-time content streamer, was known for her quirky charm. He knew she was the perfect partner for what he had in mind.
“Painter? For what?” she asked.
“We’re about to make someone a star.”
Cordelia didn’t hesitate. She was on her way, gathering the equipment for a hidden camera setup along with a quality microphone."
Next, it was Painter's turn to text Allison. He still remembered her number from when he’d seen it on Sebastian’s phone. A plan began to form in his mind, one that required precision and just the right touch of manipulation.
'Hey, Allison, right? Sebastian left a gift for you here. Here’s the address.'
He included the shop’s address, carefully typing it out before hitting send. He imagined the moment her phone would buzz, her eyes narrowing at the unexpected message. Would she hesitate, wondering if it was real? Or would her curiosity get the best of her?
Painter smiled to himself. Everything was falling into place. He wasn’t just setting a trap—he was weaving a performance, a story in which Allison would play a crucial role. Now, all he had to do was wait for the show to begin.
It was evening, and the store had long since closed, lights were out, though Painter had left the door unlocked. Everything was meticulously arranged—candles flickered softly, casting a warm glow around the room; a bouquet of red roses sat elegantly on the counter. But the centerpiece was Painter himself, dressed in an expensive, perfectly tailored cotton suit. He had spent hours preparing, adjusting his tie, combing his hair, making sure every detail was flawless. As he caught his reflection in the window, he almost didn’t recognize himself. He had never looked better.
Then, the door creaked open, and Allison stepped in. She wore a tight red dress that clung to her in all the right places, her hair perfectly styled. She carried herself with an air of confidence, as if she expected something grand—but her eyes betrayed her surprise as they scanned the room. The soft candlelight, the roses, and finally, they settled on Painter.
For a moment, there was silence as their gazes met.
"Let me introduce myself," Painter began, his voice calm and formal, though inside, the sweetness of his own tone made him sick. He forced a charming smile, the kind that was too perfect, too practiced. "I’m Painter—it’s a nickname," he added with a soft chuckle, as if trying to break the ice. "And I’m the heir to Urbanshade Corp."
He let the weight of his words linger, watching her reaction. He could see the curiosity in her eyes, the slight confusion.
"You’re probably wondering why you’re here," he continued, his voice smooth and rehearsed, like this was a well-orchestrated play.
This wasn’t just a conversation—it was a performance, and she had walked right into his scene.
"Painter? What’s going on? Where’s Sebastian?" Allison asked, her voice laced with surprise, though Painter could see she was already caught in his web.
"He’s not here. Sorry, I lied," Painter admitted, his tone smooth, but with a playful hint. He took a slow step toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Can you really blame me for wanting to be alone with someone so beautiful?"
He took another step, closing the distance between them.
"So... funny."
He was closer now, almost brushing against her.
"And intelligent?" His voice dropped to a whisper as he stood chest to chest with her, his breath warm against her ear.
Allison's eyes flickered with realization. The heir to Urbanshade Corp, standing so close, so eager—was he asking her out? Maybe it wasn’t so crazy to consider. A man of his status, his wealth... she could have a little fun on the side. A side fling wouldn’t hurt, right?
She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the crisp fabric of his suit under her fingers, catching the scent of his expensive aftershave. "You’re quite charming yourself," she said, her voice laced with a fake giggle designed to make men fall at her feet. But Painter played along, his smile widening.
"Oh?" he murmured, his voice dripping with charm. "Maybe you’d like to show me just how much?"
Allison leaned in, rising onto her toes to meet his height, her lips brushing close to his own, not touching yet. The tension between them was thick, charged with unspoken possibilities. For a brief moment, Painter thought he had her, that she was playing into his hands.
But then she stopped.
His lips hovered just shy of her skin as he whispered, "How much... you’re lying."
The playful edge in his tone had vanished, replaced by cold calculation. He would love to slap her, simply for cheating on his best friend. But now was hardly the time, not like this.
“You are not supposed to be his girlfriend. You are not Jelly and you don't deserve him.” His words caught her in surprise before she seemed to laugh.
“What do you know? They stole my identity! Ask Sebastian! I am the victim!” It was a poor try to defend herself.
“A victim? Another brilliant lie, congratulations. You officially make me sick.” The words were enough to set off her rage and she raised a hand to hit him, a hand that he caught in the middle of the action. “Don't you dare.”
“You know what? Fine, to hell with you. I am NOT them but it doesn't matter because everyone believes me anyways. I HAVE PLAYED YOU ALL. I GOT THE ACCOUNT BANNED. FUCK YOU, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU STUPID IDIOTS. SEBASTIAN IS MINE AND I WON. I AM RIGHT AND I HAVE WON. I STOLE THEIR IDENTITY AND BECAME JELLYCATFISHED.”
Suddenly, the ceiling lights blazed to life, flooding the store in harsh white light. Allison blinked, momentarily blinded, as Cordelia stepped out from behind the shadows, a sly grin on her face.
"And that’s a wrap!" Cordelia announced, her voice dripping with amusement. "Great work, everyone. So authentic, Painter." She shot her boss a playful wink.
Allison’s eyes darted from Cordelia to Painter, confusion overtaking her. A second ago, she had been in control—or so she thought. But now, the anger and seduction drained from her face, replaced by a wide-eyed, flabbergasted look. She felt like a deer caught in headlights, utterly lost.
"You see," Painter began, his voice smooth but laced with triumph, "43 thousand people just witnessed your grand confession. Live and in full HD." He let the weight of his words sink in, a twisted smile forming as he saw the realization dawn in her eyes. "You’re a star now, Allison. Just like you always wanted to be."
Cordelia had filmed it all—the near-cheating, the manipulation, the confession—and streamed it live on Jellycatfished, the very platform that had become Allison’s downfall.
Painter took a step back, admiring his work. His plan had come together beautifully, every detail falling into place like a carefully painted masterpiece. He couldn’t help but applaud himself mentally for the sheer brilliance of it all. Soon enough, the lawsuit would hit Allison—public shame was only the beginning.
Outside the store, Sebastian stood frozen, just out of sight but close enough to hear everything. His phone was clenched tightly in his hand, his knuckles white with the pressure. He had seen the signs but ignored them, convinced he knew the truth. But now, as the reality of what had unfolded hit him, it was clear.
He had been wrong. And he had lost.
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beautifulqueerexistence · 3 months ago
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I remember standing in the bathroom of my Church’s Youth Group meeting at fifteen, hands pushing back my chest to try and imagine an alternative world where it didn’t fill out.
I remember telling my girlfriend at the time how I wanted a reduction, how my back pain was getting worse… but specifically leaving out the fact that my chest felt foreign and detached.
I remember my mom obsessively commenting on my long hair, never letting a day go by where I wasn’t reminded of how beautiful and healthy it was… how my long hair was a gift.
I remember the panic in middle gym class when the group was separated between boys and girls, my heart torn between the two before I even had the words or courage to understand why.
I remember cutting my hair, how many taunts and comments were made. “Such a shame,” I’d be told over and over from girls who envied the length I had freed myself from.
I remember watching the only openly out transgender kid having to walk half a mile across campus to change in the nurse’s office for gym class, only getting to participate in gym for ten minutes before he was forced to walk back to change in time for his next class. I remember how horribly he was treated by my peers, who called it his “walk of shame,” and promising myself that I’d never let myself be put in that position.
But most of all, I remember looking in the mirror after several weeks of isolating quarantine. The sting of my church’s rejection still fresh and the abandonment I felt from God. I remember begging to be fixed, to have this suffocating, confusing feeling torn out of the body that was supposed to be mine. I remember tracing over every little arbitrary gender rule, tearing through my closet of leggings, dresses, and skirts, unable to find a single article of clothing that actually felt like mine. I remember the bittersweet feeling of finishing a theatrical production, saying goodbye to the character I was expected to embody, and feeling that same nostalgia for the girl in the mirror before me. I remember suffocating out any piece of me that didn’t suit her role, the expectations people had for her, and feeling as though her very existence contrasted my ability to live. I remember how my life wasn’t my own, rather countless strings pulling me to dance and dress and act the part they all expected me to play. I remember the night I realized that stage was supposed to be mine.
I’ve been on testosterone for two years, and I get top surgery in 5 days. Though I remember the sacrifices I made for her character to thrive, I no longer find myself grieving who she could have been. Instead, I see a clear stage, ready for whatever set I build, whatever story I wish to portray. For the first time in a long time, the mirror in front of me no longer shows the girl I gave up 18 years for… but the person they were always meant to grow into. Though I now face my own version of the walk to the nurse’s office, I see now that his choice was one of bravery, not shame. He represented a courage I had not yet found, and planted a seed in me that knew all of this was arbitrary and pointless. Because he had chosen himself to be visible, I would eventually go on to set my weights down and join his stride. I don’t know where he is now, and I don’t know what lays in his walk… but I’m forever grateful he was bold enough to show himself for people like me.
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lazyneonrabbitt · 4 months ago
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Daryl read you like a book.
Vamp!Daryl x reader, smut
It came naturally with how long the two of you had been together these days. Since before the dead started walking the two of you had been inseparable. You had plans for your future, but those got ruined when the dead first rose.
The hopes came and went with each and every new settlement. From the quarry, to the prison, the farm inbetween those, but none stuck long enougg to deem it safe enough. Not for a huge the commitment of having a child.
Those dreams were nothing but old memories now, with Daryl's newest issues he got from running into an even less friendly kind of undead not long before arriving in Alexandria. A kind that stopped Daryl's heart and lowered his core temperature to thst of a dead man and gave him a thirst for human blood. You came to the realisation it ruined even more of Daryl's human functions after you tried so hard now that you finally had a safe space but the seed never took.
Daryl saw through your lies of being okay with it. The everlasting chants of "It's better this way." But he knew how much it hurt you. Before the world ended your eyes would have that sparkle in them whenever you saw mothers with their babies but now that sparkle turned into tears threatening to spill.
It was the worst during the times Rosita and Michonne had just given birth, seeing them breastfeed their little ones with the most love and adoration you had ever seen.
There were times you thought Daryl was still out and cried yourself to sleep, but he heard you each and every time.
"Yer starin', hun." Daryl held your waist as you both stood in the doorway of the community hall where Daryl had gotten stuck by accident this morning. The meeting took so long it went on till morning, so you came to visit him.
A sad sigh left your lips as you looked away from the woman across the street who was feeding her baby and enjoying the sun on the porch. "M'sorry.. I gotta head out anyways, guard shift." With a last kiss you left your partner at the door, only seeing him again after the sun had set late in the evening.
You were settled in bed already with a novel by the time he got back. Daryl left his shoes at the door. His vest on the back of the usual dinner table chair and his shirt was in his hands when he made it up the stairs.
"Hey, welcome back." The smile on your face was the only thing that still warmed his cold, dead heart, and he was determined to cheer you up and make that smile a genuine one tonight.
"Hi, hun.." His voice gave away his lack of strength. He hadn't fed since the meeting started, close to twenty-four hours earlier. He needed to feed, and you'd happily give him what he needed so you put your book away and offered him your arm where old puncture wounds sat in varying stages of healing.
But he didn't bring your wrist to his mouth ad he settled on the bed. His hand moved along the length of your arm and down your torso to take off your top, exposing your upper body.
"Daryl, what are you doing?" The two of you hadn't been intimate in a long time, not wanting to be reminded of the hurt it caused you both. "Jus' relax, lemme make it nice fer us both."
Daryl's words had your curiousity piqued and your eyes following his every move from where he started at the edge of the bed to where he now moved to lay on top of you, umderneath the blankets.
"You're being weird." With a smile on your face you kissed the top of his head as he planted kisses on your chest.
"M'bein' nice." Daryl's hands were on your waist , then on the sides of your ribcage before they ended on your chest, squeezing, kissing and licking all over them. You let out a moaned laugh at the tickle of his fingertips and rolled your hips up against his stomach making him growl deep in his throat.
You never watched while he fed. The sight of his monstrous side wasn't one youbwanted to remember may something ever happen to him, but now you watched.
The veins under his skin blackened, spreading from black scleras that surrounded deep red irises. His normally stubby fangs were now long and sharp, ready to bite down and feed from you. His ears had pointed and so had his nails that softly clawed at your sides.
He dragged his long, pointy tongue across one of your tits with a pleased hum at your shiver, grinning so wide it looked like his face had split open. Still, with the gentlest touch he kissed your nipple.
You watched as he opened his mouth. Watched as his fangs pierced your skin, just above your nipple and latched onto it.
You watched as he fed from you. Mimicking a newborn feeding off their mother. Your hands moved on their own, caressing his cold flesh, tracing the scars on his back as he laid with his arms wrapped around you for warmth.
You felt his hard cock against your leg, but he disn't seem bothered by it in the slightest. He was content just feeding and pleasing you in the meantime. He fed off your blood and warmth, giving you all that you wanted.
The need to nurture, but also the realization that even without a child of your own, you had someone who needed you.
His monstrous outside no longer scared you, knowing what laid underneath would never think of hurting you. Your lover had changed over the years, you had lost your personal heater and with that the chance of starting your own family. But you gained a protector, one who may never suffer from a walker bite but needed you more than anything to keep walking beside you.
He needed you as much as you needed him.
So from now on, you watched.
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thedirtygridd · 2 years ago
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THE LECLERC BROTHERS…SHARING IS CARING?
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WARNINGS - 18+, strong sexual content
Summary - Based on a request. You are dating Arthur Leclerc while on a Leclerc family holiday. You can’t keep your hands off each other….but it turns out Arthur isn’t the only Leclerc you have “feelings” for……
You were away on the annual Leclerc family holiday. You had been dating Arthur (Charles’ younger brother) for just a few months now
You were still in that stage of the relationship where you just wanted to fuck constantly. Everything he did turned you on, you couldn’t wait to get your hands all over him in bed later
And that’s exactly what you did.
That night, you made out and rubbed Arthur’s body , massaging his muscly back and biceps, sliding your hands all up his abs and over his chest
He entered you and began fucking you. He held his hand over your mouth, to try and block the groans you were making
You had to be quiet…you didn’t want Charles hearing. He was in the room next door
As Arthur fucked you, his manly hands covered your mouth and his fingers slid in and out, letting you suck on them as he thrusted his length cock inside you
You had been waiting for this fuck all day. On the holiday so far, you had got at it every night, and most mornings. You just couldn’t keep your hands off each other
You felt Arthur getting sweatier and sticker with every thrust. The weight of his muscly body on top of you, pressing down as he used your pussy, which was all his….
He suddenly hit your G-spot and caused you to cum violently. You couldn’t help but let out a huge groan…
You instantly regretted it. The moan surely had woken up Charles next door….
You blushed
“Fuck! Shhhh baby” Arthur reminded you
He continued to fuck you, but leant to the side and grabbed your used pair of panties that he had ripped off a few moments earlier
He pressed them up against his face while thrusting inside you, taking in your scent, and then stuffed them into your mouth as he continued
“That’ll keep you quiet” he added
He smirked and bit his lip while you felt his dick hardening more and more
His tongue licked your neck as you experienced another orgasm
But this time he was getting harder and harder….and you felt his dick about to explode
“Fuuuuuuck” Arthur groaned. A bit too loud for comfort
You felt his warm seed shoot inside your tight hole, splashing up on your walls. You felt every throb of his hard cock as he emptied his balls inside
You were completely filled to the brim with Arthur’s milk, and it felt so good
You had never been with a guy that shot so much as he came…it was a big turn on
Arthur lay down next to you, pulled the panties from your mouth, and gave you a kiss “fuck I love you” he said while kissing your lips
“I need to go to the bathroom” you responded
You thought you’d go clean yourself up a bit before coming back to join Arthur for some sleep
“I’ll only be a second” you said a you walked out the door
Arthur tucked himself in the covers as you walked out - he looked exhausted after your little workout
You walked down the corridor and opened the door to the bathroom, where you were shocked to find Charles….
“Shit I’m sorry!” You gasped as you opened the door on him
Charles was standing, fully naked, cock erect, while rubbing spit on his tip
“Shhh..come in quick” he said while holding his wet finger up to his mouth, hinting at you to be quiet
You couldn’t help but notice how similar Arthur and Charles’ bodies were. They both had a similar girth to their shoulders, similar chest and similar hard abs. Although charles’ looked a bit more defined
You closed the door behind you as you stepped into the bathroom, both of you standing there naked. Charles slowly jerking his cock
“I could hear everything. I heard my bro getting balls deep inside you” Charles announced
You blushed
But he continued “I was a bit jealous to be honest….I could show you a few things he probably doesn’t give you…who doesn’t want to try the more experienced older brother…” he smirked
He stepped towards you and kissed you on the neck before whispering “I know you want it” into your ear. He bit your ear and smothered his tongue down your neck
He slowly pushed you down onto your knees. You kneeler down below him, looking up at his hard cock dangling in front of your face
“Taste it” Charles prompted you
This felt so wrong, as you took a grip on his dripping cock with your hand, before slowly inserting him in your mouth
It felt so wrong….Arthur was literally next door sleeping…and you had just taken his brothers cock into your warm mouth
As you sucked him, it began to feel better and better. The fact it was so wrong, somehow made it so hot
You felt Charles harden even more in your mouth. You felt every throb, you felt his pre-cum ooze out as you aroused him more and more.
“Look up at me as you suck it” Charles demanded, while tilting your neck up to look him in the eyes.
You kept eye contact while he thrust in and out of your mouth, you felt him slide deeper and further down your throat as he stared you in the eyes
You had never noticed how enticing Charles’ eyes were. It felt so good to stare into his soul as you tasted the musky scent of his manly cock
“Fuck Charles…I want you bad….” You groaned as you slurped on his length
“Don’t worry you’re getting it…” Charles said while scooping you off your feet, he carried you and you grabbed hold of his muscly back as he held you
“Shhh” he reminded you as He opened the door and walked out the bathroom, down the stairs and outside
“Where are we going?” You asked Charles as you both walked outside naked, into the garden of the villa.
He lay you down on the grass outside, beside the pool
He positioned himself on top of you and slowly slipped his cock up and down over your clit before entering you
“We can fuck like animals out here, and nobody will know” he reminded you as he began thrusting harder and harder inside
You felt him push Arthur’s come around your tight walls as he fucked you
“Mm so fucking wet” Charles added
Arthur’s cum definitely helping to act as a good lube as Charles stretched out your walls
Charles fucked you harder than his brother. This was less loving, and more animalistic. It was pure lust for each other
Charles used his fingers to open your mouth before he spat down inside. A bit string of his spit dripping down into your mouth as he fucked you
You felt your back rubbing on the grass, getting slightly dirty as you fucked.
You felt so wild
Charles was now dripping with sweat. Fucking outside, away from all air conditioning, in the warm summer nights….you smelt his armpit getting muskier with every thrust
You enjoyed the smell. This was just pure man and woman outside, alone. Pure fucking.
You wondered what Arthur might thing….
But before you could feel too guilty, Charles had repositioned you on top of him. He lay down, his back on the grass, as you began to ride him
You wanted to surprise him with how dirty you could be as you rode his hard Length.
You placed both your hands around his thick neck, as much as you could. Your hands were so small, and his neck so thick, that it was hard to fully get a grip. But you attempted to choke him as you rode him
You dug your nails in as you grabbed him. You felt him harden as you did it.
You had fully taken him by surprise
“Open wide Charles” you demanded
You built up a long, stringy ribbon of spit before letting it slip out your mouth
You watched as it entered his, down onto his tongue. You couldn’t believe how wild this was getting
Some of your spit had landed on his stubbly chin, but you just brushed your fingers through it and let him suck it off you
Charles’ finger soon got very keen as you rode him. You felt it enter your ass as he fucked your pussy
The feeling of him penetrating both your holes simultaneously instantly made you cum
Squirting out all over his sweaty abs
“Fuck I’m so turned on right now” Charles complimented you as he thrusted
He flipped you back down under him, your hands smothering his sweaty, and now muddy, muscly back. The feeling of his sweat, together with a little bit of dirt on his muscles as your rubbed him, made you feel so wet
This was such a primal fuck, out in the open, in the natural environment of the garden
You could tell Charles was now getting close
You felt like you had the hardest, thickest object ever inside you
And then as Charles stated you in the eyes, you felt him release his load
His milk spraying inside you. You both let out a groan in deep pleasure as he climaxed, and you lay there…feeling another Leclerc fill you up
Two Leclercs in one day….
Charles pulled out after he deposited his seed inside you.
You thought about his and Arthur’s cum mixing together inside you
“Shit that was hot” Charles responded, while picking you up again
“We’re a bit dirty” he added
You could see his back was covered with dusty mud from the grass, made worse by the sweat he had been giving off
“Let’s rinse it off” Charles continued with carrying you, before jumping into the pool with you
You let out a scream as you both splashed in the pool
You both played around, splashing water at each other, forgetting that the rest of the family were only a few metres away in the villa…including your boyfriend….
Charles held his hands on your ass while making out with you in the pool.
You felt his warm tongue sliding up and down yours. You both traded even more spit as you kissed
You felt Charles was hard again…and before you knew it….he was back in you. But this time….in your ass
He pushed you up against the pool wall while stretching out your tight ass
The feeling….painful at first , soon became immensely pleasurable
He stretched you out while fucking you
You quietly let him thrust in and out of you in the pool….
You sucked on his neck. Biting him too. You made a huge hickey on his thick neck as he shoved his length inside
It didn’t last long….you felt so tight for him….he soon exploded inside you again. Filling up yet another hole with Leclerc seed.
When he had finished you told Charles you needed to go back up now….
You had no idea how long you had been
As you stepped out the pool, Charles spanked your arse as you left
You turned around and rolled your eyes , while smirking at this incredible man. You had never experienced such a primal, lustful man
You spread your ass cheeks apart as you walked away from him, teasing him more. You felt some cum drip down your thigh as you did it
You knew how much he would enjoy the sight of you
You entered the villa once again and quietly went back into your room. You noticed Arthur was now sleeping.
You slipped in besides him, your hair still wet from the pool. Your pussy and ass still wet and used after his brother
He subconsciously noticed you had returned and wrapped his thick arms around you
You lay there wondering what the hell had just happened.
You had just been fucked by both Leclercs….you had cheated on your boyfriend with his brother….yet you didn’t feel that guilty….
You still just felt so aroused, as you slowly touched yourself, rubbing your clit, thinking about your Leclerc boys……….
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genshxn · 1 year ago
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Hii!!​ I saw your requests are temp open for small requests! Can I request the alphabet game for Scaramouche/Wanderer? With the letters X, O, A? Thank you so much!!
ay btw they’re still open for now :]
here’s the big ole list (be warned some of the stuff might not be too good lol)
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x —
(i.e. how he smooch)
this one’s highly dependent on his emotional state and how flustered he is, as well as the stage the relationship is at. i still stand by the headcanon that if he gets too wound-up, he’ll just buffer and be unable to respond (also running the risk of him crashing). so if you manage to successfully catch him off-guard with a kiss (good luck), then his internal processing will tank.
if you’re especially new into the relationship and you have the confidence to do that, there’s a non-zero chance you will have to reboot him. if he was feeling brave, then he’d try and return it another time, if not right away. the whole process involves a lot of blushing and notably quick pecks, more than anything.
once you’re well into the relationship, however, then you get to see a whole new side of him. every time he’d kiss you, you could feel him brimming with confidence—in himself and your love for him. he knew you liked it, especially when he’d have a hand elsewhere on you to draw you closer to him. if he gets jealous somehow, you might find yourself starved of breath while he holds you against his lips for longer than normal. just a reminder that you’re his and he’s yours <3
o —
(i.e. how official is it?)
oh, it’s official, but scaramouche is not the type to tell people about your relationship. simply because he doesn’t see the need in doing so, and neither do you. he will mention it to people he trusts (of which are few and far between), but he treats it like it’s common knowledge. for example, he might’ve been talking to nahida about a particular dish she mentioned. “ah yes, i tried to feed it to (y/n), but then they got too embarrassed when i was doing it which ended in them spilling it all over themself. so yeah, it’s messy.”
nahida then just looked at him like ಠ_ಠ, to which he was like “oh yeah, we’re dating btw. have been for over a year now.” and thus proceeded the nahida inquisition about the relationship. he was sparse on the details, as per your agreement. but more than happy to (smugly) divulge the details that left nahida with the seed of a love for gossip.
someone could watch you two for long enough and figure out you’re in a relationship with how much casual contact scaramouche makes, like resting his chin on your shoulder (his favourite), leaning on you, or simply having your hands atop each others when you sit together. you both agreed you wouldn’t talk about it much, but if people know, then they know. there’s no need for lies when you can simply obfuscate the truth.
a —
(i.e. how awkward can it get?)
at the beginning, you two were like middle schoolers with helpless crushes on each other, despite being an official pair, if only by the moon’s witness. so yes, there was a lot of awkwardness you both had to get over. he was probably the worse offender in that he’d get worked up over the smallest signs of affection you showed, still unable to believe that you not only liked him back, but wanted to also be with him. stammering mess solely by holding hands.
however, that was all before he had the confidence to apply his usual almost-smug demeanour to the relationship. once he got to that stage, it was all over for you. incessant flirting, surprise displays of affection, risqué whispers in public—you were going to blow up every single time. he loved your reactions. cute, he’d call them. it took a long time to work up your own confidence to be able to return what he gave.
and boy, can he sometimes not receive what he dishes out. once you started returning his words and actions, sometimes even springing them on him unprompted, it was like he was back to where he started: cherry-red faces, unintelligible stammering and overheating processors. he still has his moments where he has to recuperate before he can continue the line of teasing and flirting. just remember to have some concept of a stop-button before you try and force the other into red-faced submission.
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sniigura-archive · 3 months ago
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Adam x Reader x Mammon AU anon here.
MAMMON CATCHING FEELINGS yessssss. I love the idea of Adam falling for Reader instantly while with Mammon is takes a while; he wasn't made to be domestic like Adam is lol. Plus the HB twitter's Pride post showed that Mammon's ace, so I like the idea of him being a sex-favorable gray-aroace who's had more experience with sex than with romance and he's pissed that he low-key wants to be with Reader forever now cuz it was just a sex thing before and that was easy since he knew the territory but now???? atewrdfrgtvh help him how does he romance
I love the idea of Glitz and Glam trying to replace Reader. Need them to be Reader's rivals aaaaaa
ADAM AND MAMMON AS GIRL DADS!!!!! I like the idea of the girl being named "Sacha"; it's alt spelling of "Sasha" that I chose because it reminds me of this angel named Sachiel whose associated with wealth and finance (wikipedia.org/wiki/Sachiel).
mammon the aro ace king ❤️
adam is easy, he meets someone where he can project his domestic fantasies on to and he’s whipped
i think once mammon realises he wants more from reader he pulls back 😭 he’s like sulking. but at the same time he can’t stay back like what if he misses a milestone from sacha and what if adam worms his way into readers heart….hes sitting on your living room floor, arms crossed and glaring at your carpet while he watches over sachas tummy time 😭😭
glitz and glam rivalry beiskd i think it’d be funny if reader doesn’t react to their very offensive attacks against her (running their mouth while mammon isn’t there) and reader just establishes dominance over them subtly. like they complain to adam and stomp their feet at him and he just tells them fuck off, meanwhile reader sighs and mammon is like „what? what fucking is it? ya want a break? want me to kick this guy out? want some money?“
i think reader has like insane stage presence and charisma. once the switch goes on it’s like people have a hard time looking away from her (her aura….. it’s giving half succubus and posseser vibes)
i think mammon wants all three of them to get like vasectomies/ sterilised 😭 adam refuses for obvious reasons like why does this pimp want to take his manliness…. reader waves him off like let me do what i want bro. mammon thinks about getting done but then also what if reader gets pregnant again. then they for sure know who’s the father this time. he can’t have that
I THINK ALSO!!! adam and mammon make some sort of plan to get like a paternity test done. they’re like brain storming it. of course behind readers back. but then they’re both babysitting the little chubby angel and it’s like. what does it mean to know who’s the biological dad? does the other one have to stop being a father to the light of their life? and if reader finds out how fucked are they? then neither mammon or adam would be part of either of your life’s. they end up scraping the idea, the fear of not being able to simply be there for reader and sacha is too big to pull through
in my mind also. at first when reader is pregnant mammon doesn’t get the appeal. like adam is OBSESSED he’s down bad he was made for pregnancy sex and massaging his pregnant girlfriend. mammon is just like 🤨 so what? until reader gets further and further along with heavy breasts and a round stomach that hangs over her thong and the thought of his seed causing all of that, being in her and possessing that space……cmere love so he can bounce you on his dick real quick
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iamdispleased · 28 days ago
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Hatchetfield & the Real Musical References
That theory of ‘the plays-within-plays foreshadow the next musical’ got me thinking about the real musicals referenced in the Hatchetfield Series and how they could connect to the story. That led to these findings.
CW: Relgion (Godspell), spoilers for the Hatchetfield Series, Godspell & Brigadoon
(I know there are more details I’m missing, as I haven’t seen either musical, but I’m just excited and wanted to share. Wikipedia is my ride-or-die.)
So. Godspell. Or, ‘God-awful’. Or, ‘Gotdamn That Was Bad’.
Y’all…
First, Godspell is mostly based on the Gospel of Matthew. Like Paul Matthews, the very guy who did not like musicals himself.
Skipping to Act II for a moment— there is a scene where…
“Jesus returns to his followers to find them all asleep. He begs them to stay awake, but they all fall asleep again, and Jesus warns them that they will all betray him three times.”
Remember in Act II of TGWDLM, after the song ‘Not Your Seed’, when Alice, Deb, and Hatchetfield Bee are talking to Paul after they killed Bill? And remember when they said:
“Bending countless civilizations to our will, yet, you, Paul, have defied us thrice!”
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Insert The Incredibles’ (2004), “Coincidence? I think not!” meme here.
Godspell includes the tale of The Parable of the Prodigial Son, also known as the Parable of the Two Brothers, Lost Son, Loving Father, or of the Forgiving Father.
“The parable begins with a man who had two sons, and the youngest, who is impatient and greedy, asks his father to give him his share of the estate immediately. The father is like, “Y’know what? Fuck it. I’m feelin’ kinda funky today,” and agrees, dividing the estate in half.”
“Upon receiving his portion of the inheritance, the younger son travels to a distant country, where he squanders his wealth through reckless living.”
The younger son gets humbled, he comes back home in shame, blah, blah, blah, lesson learned.
If that’s not Emma Perkins, then I don’t know what is, especially considering she literally inherits land. I’m looking at you, Nightmare Time episode Perky’s Buds!!
And I admit, this is a reach, but the Parable of the Prodigal Son starts in Luke 15:11. Emma’s favorite band is 311. In military time, 3 pm = 15. So, 15:11 = 3:11 pm. This is either a happy accident or an intentional tidbit that managed to work out well.
Similar to the beginning of TGWDLM, it begins with God and the characters breaking the fourth wall and explaining shit via song.
At the end of Godspell, Jesus is crucified, and he is carried off stage by the cast. There has been a lot of controversy over the ending, because the musical does not mention Jesus’ resurrection at any point.
Almost like how in TGWDLM, Paul sacrifices himself, and when we thought Paul was resurrected at the end, he wasn’t. (To put it simply.) And we can’t forget how the cast carries a screaming Emma off stage, and the show ends on a (good) controversial note.
Brigadoon!
Brigadoon starts with these two New Yorkers, Tommy Albright and Jeff Douglas doing that fancy kind of hunting white people do when the men hear music coming from a village nearby. But wait a hot second! There is no village on their map! And yet!! Turns out that village is a special place called Brigadoon. Why is it special? Here’s some WIKI for ya’.
“200 years ago, the local minister prayed to God to have Brigadoon disappear that way it would remain untouched by the outside world, only to reappear every 100 years. All citizens of Brigadoon are forbidden to leave the town, or it will disappear forever.”
Kind of reminds me of the whole ‘no one can ever truly leave Hatchetfield’ thing. So, could Hatchetfield be seen as a mirror of Brigadoon in some sense?
Hm.
There is literally a character named Tommy who ends up falling for Fiona, a lass from Brigadoon. The issue is, he’s engaged to a woman named Jane who he isn’t really that into. Even after he leaves Brigadoon, Tommy still thinks about Fiona.
Tommy is Tom. Jane is Jane. Fiona is Becky. Of course, this isn’t to be taken as they are the Hatchetfield equivalent to that character.
And it turns out, Emma Perkins hates Becky Barnes. Why? Sisterly principle. (Emma knows Tom always viewed Becky as ‘the one who got away’, even after marrying Jane.)
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Going back to Paul and Emma!
After after meeting Fiona, Tommy asks the Brigadoon schoolmaster, Mr. Lundie, if outsiders were allowed to stay. He replies:
“A stranger can stay if he loves someone here – not jus' Brigadoon, mind ye, but someone in Brigadoon – enough to want to give up everythin' an' stay with that one person. Which is how it should be. 'Cause after all, lad, if ye love someone deeply, anythin' is possible.”
In TGWDLM, Paul and General MacNamara have that Iconic Conversation which has a similar vibe.
MacNamara: I follow a higher law than any institution could decree, and that is the universal truth of love and the strength of the human heart.
&
Paul: I can’t leave without Emma.
MacNamara: Who’s Emma, Paul?
Paul: A friend of mine.
MacNamara: Friends don’t move my heart, son. Is there a chance at something more?
Paul: […] I’d like there to be. I want there to be.
Shout out to Mamma Mia, and Bill wanting to see a feel good musical with his daughter about a daughter and her three possible fathers.
I stand behind the idea that Alice is Bill’s biological daughter, she’s just white passing. I’d also like to appreciate the fact that Alice’s favorite restaurant is Red Lobster.
I plan on actually watching these musicals soon, that way I can make more in-depth posts, but like I said— this just made me really happy and excited, and I wanted to share it.
Feel free to reblog and add onto this post! Seriously! I love when that happens! Okay, bye!
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fallinginaforrest · 1 year ago
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SPOILER WARNING FOR WORKIN BOYS, I BREAK DOWN MY FAVOURITE SHOTS. SPOILERS WILL BE HERE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Okay here's my opinion:
Curt being the DP for Workin' boys is the best thing that coulda happened to it. There are so many choices that were made during filming that just absolutely heighten the level of comedy. It's shot like a Mockumentary almost? The shakycam and the randomized movement? As someone who wrote a Mockumentary last year, I can only dream of pulling off a film like this.
A couple things I wanna point out:
-the minuscule push in on Hidgens when he realises he won the workshop competition feels very office-ey.
-the cut back to MK's amused face had me WHEEZING
-the pan over to Paul as be reminds Hidgens to remember the changes
-"apparently a musical about six men bonding on a football field isnt 'of the times..."'etc, this line right here felt like a talking head, I appreciated it.
-those time cards eg: "Rehearsal #2, 28 days until opening" lent itself so much to the documentarian feel of it.
-"wow, what an auteur", not a camerawork comment but I appreciate the joke for all of the film and theater theory studiers
-the "rehearsal montage" I love a good meta joke.
-even in this montage, the camera is never really onstage. At all. Like, it's always situated off to the side or in the audience, and then zoomed in, the documentarian is trying to capture all of the action on stage instead of trying to make us feel immersed in the rehearsal process. We're not really aligned with any of the characters, we're an audience, and we better stay that way. For our own sake.
-and then this dynamic totally changes, and shifts away from the mockumentary feel
-but I'll get to that in a second
-henry is almost always by himself in the shot. I think the one of the only other times that the entirety of another character's face is seen alongside Henry's (I mean, both faces are CLEAR and uncovered in the shot) is in the two shot of him and Paul's stage manager in the rehearsal montage. He is totally singular in his experiences with this show! He is not one of these girls, if anything he is opposed to them. And this becomes clearer later, but it's a nice seed to sow, establishing that he is not in a collaborative mindset at all. The only other time I can think of is him and Zoey behind the curtain, even then, the only time both of their faces are actually IN the shot is when they're behind all the workin' girls. There's probably more but ykwim.
-also the sheer number of times that Henry is off centre in the shot with just a bunch of space surrounding him.
-okay after "two week notice" or whatever tf that song is called (Kim sounds amazing as always) is when the style shifts. It feels less like a mockumentary and more like this sort of voyeuristic peek into Henry's psyche. I LOVE IT.
-the fact that he is never shown in the shot with the workin' boys! It makes you absolutely feel like he is just talking to the air around him (this is hatchetfield so who knows, either way its unsettling)
-we get aligned with ruth, for the first time, we see the audience from the perspective of a character, not just from a stage POV
-the camera roll!! We don't get a full rotation but we feel dizzy and unsettled when we look at ruth, which is exactly how she feels!
-camera roll close up on Zoey. Uncomfortable, unsettling! Rests in a canted angle before continuing to roll on Hidgens! Who is centered in a low angle shot! We don't see the axe until he brings it up to his face! He is not only in a position of power here, but revealing the axe only when Henry makes it clear he is gonna kill them makes it clear that he calls the shots! We've departed from the Mockumentary style completely, as if this was never a documentary to begin with, more like we're flies on the wall or spirits in the theater or omniscient eldritch beings... anyway-
-long shot of Henry dragging zoey's body, no footage of them being killed, aligns us with the audience
-our friend the camera is getting shakey again, the chaos is in the process of ensueing
-THE PULL OUT SHOT OF GRACE WITH THE GUN. I GASPED. I KNEW IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN AND I GASPED. Fun fact on my first watch I thought this was a dolly shot but I dont think y'all are fitting a dolly on the Hudson theater main stage steps, and also the distance is too short so it must have been a pull out. It was REALLY SMOOTH.
-notice, when grace quotes the bible, we are EVER SO SLIGHTLY looking up at her. It gets progressively more obvious the further she gets into the line, but she has the power now. Somehow she always ends up with the fuckin' power, maybe I should convert to christianity smh.
-shakeycam is back again baby!
The creative minds put so much love and care into Hatchetfield, and you can tell that every project is a passion project. People know starkid primarily as a theater company, and that's great and all, but in reality it's an Avenue for all kind of creatives to not only have the opportunity to create all kinds of amazing things, let alone theater, but also have a way to show people. It's moved past being a theater company, with things like Starkid returns and Workin' boys, it's more like a production collective, and it feels like the beginning of a new era. Not only in terms of broadening the way that they Express themselves and be creative, but also in terms of finding a new niche in the industry. Finding a new, wider audience. Because yeah, you're always gonna have people that dislike the new media you produce, for nostalgia's sake or whatever, but beyond that, there are going to be be people that absolutely love what you have to offer. There's no point in trying to revert back to the way it was before, or trying to cater specifically to an audience from an era gone by. How do you grow as an artist if you're always thinking in the past? Starkid is moving in a new direction. The next musical is likely not going to be hatchetfield, but I dont even mind because it's going to be new. New is always good, and Starkid has a bright future.
TL;DR @curtmega you're a literal genius, and starkid is TOTALLY AWESOME
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yellowkitkieran · 2 years ago
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Afterglow (Martin Odegaard)
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Masterlist
Word Count: 1.8k
Summary: Based loosely on ‘Afterglow’ by Taylor Swift. Requested by anonymous.
Babe, you need to see this. I'm sorry. 
The second you read the message from your best friend, your heart stutters. A link comes through seconds later. Your hand shakes as you click on it and an article fills your screen. The article brings your world crashing down before you read anything past the headline. It shows your boyfriend Martin laughing with a pretty blonde woman, one hand on her hip and the other holding hers as they walk out of a nondescript building. By all accounts, it looks damning.
A fire lights in your belly, one born of jealousy rage. How dare he? After everything he'd promised you? Who does he think he is? A million questions swirl in your mind, most of them barbed and accusatory. You glance at the clock, silently thankful that Martin should be there any second and you don't have to stew on this for long. 
Everything inside you wants to smash the photos in your flat until Martin's face is nowhere to be found. Three years down the drain for what was probably a fling. It isn't your fault you don't want to fuck as much as he does! That's probably all it was too; just sex, a replacement for what you couldn't always give him. And it stings to know he'd gone and found that somewhere else. 
You hear his keys outside your front door. Mentally drawing up your walls, you remind yourself to stand strong as it swings open. "Søta? I'm- oh hey. I missed you today."
Where Martin's voice is soft, yours is hard as stone. "Oh, did you? Are you sure you aren't mistaking me for that blonde you're fucking on the side?"
All color drains from Martin's face in an instant, which tells you all you need to know. "What do you mean? I'm not- you're my one and only, you know that!"
And now he has the audacity to lie to your face. "Are you fucking kidding me? You're really gonna stand there and pretend like I don't know what's going on? I saw the article Martin!"
"What article?" Martin rakes a nervous hand through his hair, voice raw and confused but you don't care. "Søta I swear-"
"Don't call me that!" You shove at Martin's chest with all your strength, breaking the loose grip he has on your arms. You feel like a cornered stallion, bucking and kicking because your heart is beating so wildly you can't hear anything over its roar in your ears. 
"The evidence is right here," you say, shoving your phone in his face. "Are you gonna tell me this photo is fake? Staged? 'Martin Ødegaard caught out and about with a new girl'? How do you think that makes me feel, that I have to find out about this through my friend? I'm an idiot!"
Martin made a promise that he would never, ever hurt you, and now he's done the worst possible thing you can do to another human. You trusted him with your fragile, taped together heart that you feared had been broken one too many times to be functional. But he had nurtured you, planted seeds of affection and helped you learn what real love looks like. Now he's ripped the rug out from under you and left you damaged. 
Martin stands stoic in the face of your hurricane of emotion. His eyes are red rimmed but other than that, he shows nothing on his face. "It's not true," he whispers, pleading with you to believe him. "You have to know it's not real. You know I would never do something like that."
You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest, "I can't listen to your excuses Martin. Please go."
Martin's face crumbles like your heart. He reaches for you but you step away, unwilling to let his touch bend your perception of events in his favor. One touch and you'll be done- your confidence will dissolve and you'll fall into his arms and let him hurt you again and again.
"I love you."
Your hands fly up to your ears like a child, protecting yourself from his words. You squeeze your eyes shut. You try to block out the way you can still feel him standing a few feet from you. When you finally open them some minutes later, Martin is finally gone. A folded slip of white paper sits on the floor where his feet were, but you don't touch it. 
The best thing you've ever had is gone, and you're afraid you'll never find something so sweet again. 
*********
Søta can we please talk?
I miss you.
Please just let me explain, I swear it isn't what you think it is
You refuse to respond to a single one of Martin's messages. You've been ignoring them for days and they have begun to pile up in your inbox, and still you refuse to touch them. You remain firm in your position that he'd done you wrong, that damning photo splashed across tabloids everywhere. He'd embarrassed you- how hard was it to break up with someone before moving on?
There's one singular image of Martin that comes out of Arsenal's training all week. He isn't looking at the camera but his posture alone is enough to tell you how heavy his heart is. You hate seeing him like that, despite everything. It isn't like your love for him evaporated; you still feel the same for him and seeing him so blue hurts.
Something constricts in your chest and for the first time in six days, and after much internal debate, you allow yourself to search for his name on Instagram. 
And it's then that you see her post explaining the story. It's a short reel and your curiosity gets the better of you- why would Martin choose her over you, the woman he claimed to love until the end of time? 
"Hey guys, I just wanted to hop on and address those images of me and Martin Ødegaard that have been circulating online. First and foremost, nothing happened! I literally fell flat on my face seconds before that as we were coming out the door- he was helping me walk in those stupid tall heels that I shouldn't have been in the first place. 
"I swear that's all it was- we both had photo shoots in the same building that day and he'd stopped to help me because I was struggling. I hadn't even met him before that day, and the only reason I know who he is, is thanks to everyone online!"
You lock your phone and set it on the table, completely stunned. Oh, you'd fucked up big time. Leaving your phone behind you grab your keys and your jacket, heart pounding as you rush out the door. 
You have to see him. You have to set things right. 
You make it to his house in record time. The weather must pick up and feed off your mood because just as you pull up the skies open up, rain pouring down from a suddenly cloudy sky. 
"Fuck it, let's go," you mumble to yourself, hopelessly holding your hands over your head as you run for his door. You knock frantically, praying he's home. You hadn't stopped to check what day it is- was he at recovery? Training? Was it a match day-
The door swings open and you're greeted by an exhausted looking Norwegian. Martin drums up a half smile, shifting his weight to his right foot, "Hey."
Seeing him now, everything comes crashing down. You should've let him speak before just barreling ahead. It wasn't right for you to shut him out the way you had. He deserved a chance to defend himself and you'd been so terrified of being hurt that you'd jumped to conclusions. 
You throw your arms around his neck and pull him out into the rain for a fierce hug, not caring that you're soaked to the bone. You bury your face in his shoulder as he instinctively soothes a hand over your back, unsure what was happening but hating seeing you upset all the same. 
"Shh søta it's alright… what's happened? Do you want to come inside?"
You pull back to look up at him, threading your fingers in the hair on the back of his head. "No- Martin I'm so sorry for everything. I should've let you speak instead of just accusing you of something I knew you wouldn't ever do. And I know you probably can't forgive me but I'm gonna do my best to earn it as best I can."
Martin smiles and brushes your sopping hair off your forehead. The tenderness in the gesture carries the weight of a thousand words and instantly you feel lighter. "I was never upset with you, and there's nothing to forgive. I don't blame you for reacting the way you did. I'm just glad you're here now… but I am gonna take you inside before you get sick and I have to take care of you."
You smile, silently grateful for him and the fact that the rain hides your tears. "I love you Mar, I'm glad you were home. I didn't really have a plan, I just knew I needed to speak with you."
Martin takes your hand and leads you inside before he says anything else. "You know where the spare key is anyway. I wouldn't put it past you to wait here and ambush me when I finally did get home." Martin kneels in front of you, allowing you to hold his shoulder for balance while he takes off your wet shoes and sets them aside. Then he starts on your jeans, unbuttoning them and working them down your legs, though the wet denim provides a challenge, "also, let's just put this all behind us okay? I want to forget it ever happened."
Standing before him half dressed, you smile at the man in front of you. No one has ever knelt before you, and certainly no one has ever looked at you the way Martin is now. His face is open and vulnerable, a beautiful sight to behold as rainwater drips down his cheeks and off his chin to dot the carpet under your feet. You place your hand on his jaw and guide him to his feet, pulling him in for a wet kiss as his hands find your hips.
"Just say you love me," you murmur against him, his warmth warding off the cold from your soaked skin. 
"I love you," he whispers into your mouth. "And I think we need a warm shower."
You pull back to search his expression, trying to determine his mood. "Together?" You ask tentatively, because you're not ready to be apart from him just yet.
Martin offers you a cheeky grin and grabs your bum, "together. Definitely together."
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satans-helper · 1 year ago
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Make It Better
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Pairing: Danny Wagner x Josh Kiszka
Word Count: ~2900
Warnings: slash & smut, people!! Blowjobs! Also some blood (non-sexual). 18+ only~
Inspired by Danny kissing Josh's hand during the Cleveland show (and what a show that was!) and, of course, Halloween. Hope you enjoy ;)
---
“You sure you wanna start carving them now?” Danny asked Josh, who was gleefully cradling two pumpkins in his arms from the porch. Danny was holding the front door open for him, letting the crisp, cold breeze momentarily waft into the house. 
“Jake and Sam can do theirs whenever,” Josh answered. He heard–and felt–Danny following his steps as he went through the hall and into the dining room. With a little huff, he set the pumpkins down on the ratty old tablecloth they’d both laid out for the event. “It’s not our fault they’re stuck on interview duty today.”
“I don’t know,” Danny remarked, leaning against a chair. “Carving pumpkins seems like just as much work. Maybe more.”
Josh looked up with a little smile. “This is supposed to be fun, Daniel. Come on, where’s your Halloween spirit?”
Danny sat down, spinning one of the pumpkins around in front of himself. “Play ‘Monster Mash’ and I’ll get into it.” 
Josh laughed. “Sure, fine by me.” He started to sing the words, mimicking the silly voice of the original song, as he meandered into the kitchen, phone in hand. Soon enough the real thing was playing from a speaker, hopefully truly getting Danny to perk up–whenever Sam was out of the picture even for a little while, it was like a little of Danny’s energy was gone with him. Josh could relate though. Whenever his twin was absent, he felt a little emptiness in the pit of his stomach. But he was happy to have some one-on-one time with Danny. That didn’t happen very often. Not to mention none of them had actually carved pumpkins since they were literal children–this was going to be fun.
“What’s yours going to be?” he asked as Danny sliced the top off his pumpkin, Josh following suit with an enthusiastic sawing motion. Using knives was always a good time as far as he was concerned. 
“I was thinking of trying to make it look like Sam’s drunk face,” Danny told him with a laugh. “But I don’t know if I have the skills. We’ll see.”
Josh laughed too. “That’s a good idea. Maybe I should make my pumpkin look like Jake’s guitar face.” 
“Put these two pumpkins together and it’s basically Jake’s ass,” Danny said, smirking to himself; Josh cackled in return. He wasn’t exactly wrong. Then Danny stood up and leaned over the table, hand disappearing into the pumpkin. “Ugh, this feels disgusting. Why the fuck are we doing this again?”
Josh did the same and, yeah, it was pretty gross. So cold and slimy, the seeds slippery between his fingers. “We’re bonding,” he reminded Danny, who was still so immersed in the pumpkin guts that Josh wasn’t even sure what he’d said had been registered. He and Danny slopped handfuls of pumpkin guts onto a platter together, as in sync as they all were on stage.
“Sam will probably want the seeds,” Danny said, reaching back in as the Ghostbusters theme started playing. 
“Good. Nothing left to waste,” Josh replied, beginning to feel very focused on the task at hand himself. He really was going to try to carve Jake’s guitar face into the pumpkin. “We can compost the rest.”
Danny was even more quiet than usual, he quickly noticed, and Josh didn’t think it was just because they were immersed in jack-o-lantern carving. He wanted to ask about it–was there something bothering him? Was he just really not into this? Josh’s sudden onslaught of anxious thoughts broke his concentration and as he was bringing the knife down in a steep curve, it slipped and, in the blink of an eye, bright red blood was shining on the blade, down his hand and across the orange pumpkin. 
“Oh shit!” Danny jumped to action, wiping his hands on a towel as he rushed over to Josh, who was so stunned by his mishap that he was just staring at the shockingly grisly wound. “Wait a minute,” Danny instructed, disappearing into the kitchen for a moment. When he returned, he was standing over Josh and wrapping his hand in a clean towel. 
“Oops,” Josh said, then hissed, suddenly conscious of the deep sting from the cut. “Ouch!” What a stupid thing to do, he thought, because not only did he ruin his hand, he ruined the pumpkin.
“Jeez, Josh, this looks bad,” Danny said, holding the dish towel around Josh’s bleeding hand snugly. “Do you think you need stitches?”
Josh waved that idea away with his uninjured hand. “No, no, I’m sure it’s fine. Let me see.”
Danny sighed. “Let’s go to the bathroom. We need to clean this.” 
So Josh let his friend take the lead. He sat down on the edge of the tub while Danny grabbed yet another towel, one of the black ones with little ghosts threaded in white that he and Jake had picked out just for this season, and wet it in the sink. Danny dropped to his knees in front of him and carefully unraveled the bloody towel from his hand, winching even more than Josh did as it happened. 
“See,” Josh began when his wound was revealed–a deep, long slash down the side of his hand, extending from the bottom of his thumb to just above his wrist. “I don’t need stitches.” 
“Okay, maybe not, but this looks bad,” Danny said softly. Josh was enamored with how tender he was. Maybe in another life, Danny would have been a doctor. Josh could see that. He sighed again, dabbing with the warm, wet towel. “Do you have any hydrogen peroxide here?” 
Josh tensed. “That’ll make it hurt more.”
“Just for a second. It’ll disinfect it,” Danny assured him, then took Josh’s other hand and pressed it over the towel. “Hold that.” He swiveled on his knees to open the cabinet beneath the sink–if nothing else, this allowed Josh a nice view of Danny bent over on his knees, ass in the air while he did his best to rescue Josh from a nasty infection. “Got it,” Danny proclaimed, shuffling back with a brown bottle in one hand and a bag of cotton balls in the other. He sat there frowning for a moment before saying, “We need bandages, too. Not the small ones. I gotta wrap it in something.”
“Maybe in the drawer?” Josh suggested, realizing he knew very little about the contents of his own bathroom. 
“Aha,” Danny said victoriously, tossing the roll of gauze at Josh’s feet. He sat right in front of him, opening the hydrogen peroxide and wetting a cotton ball with it. When he looked up, Josh’s heart fluttered at how genuinely apologetic and hurt Danny looked on his behalf. “Alright, yeah, it’s gonna sting. But it’s gonna help.” He took the wet towel away from Josh’s hand and held that bloody hand in his own. “Okay?”
Josh nodded. Danny doing this made it seem less daunting–he didn’t consider himself very afraid of anything, but physical pain was something he, like most people, always wanted to avoid. Causing himself further pain wasn’t something he was ever inclined to do. But Danny was gentle and reassuring, rubbing Josh’s wrist with his thumb as he dabbed the cut with the hydrogen peroxide, and just that small, simple, sweet action diminished some of the angry stinging that came with it. Then, with a dry part of the ghost towel, Danny dabbed some more until Josh’s hand felt dry again. Next came the gauze, which he wrapped carefully and skillfully around the wound, leaving Josh patched up as best either of them could do. Well, Josh thought, he actually didn’t do anything but sit there. 
“Better?” Danny asked, sitting back, resting his hands on Josh’s knees.
Josh thought about that question for a moment. Then he lifted his bandaged hand up to Danny’s face: “A kiss would make it better.” He was confident Danny would do it, and he did, but the way it happened made Josh’s breath catch in his lungs. Danny gingerly held his wrist, held it so delicately like he was made of glass, and the press of his lips was just as gentle and soft but so full of intent. It wasn’t a quick, silly gag to appease Josh. It was an earnest, lingering, passionate little kiss, and Josh felt faint for a moment.
“Now are you better?” Danny asked, still holding Josh’s hand.
“Yes, thank you, Danny,” Josh said, cheeks burning. He was also sure he now looked very flustered and he felt even more out of sorts when Danny straightened up, moving in close, and gave him a kiss on his forehead. 
“You scared me. Maybe you shouldn’t be around knives,” Danny told him, who was still too flabbergasted to laugh at the absurdity of that. Instead, Josh tried something he’d never done before, something that did actually scare him–he brought his good hand to the side of Danny’s face and leaned forward to kiss him right on the lips. Thankfully, Danny reciprocated, humming softly into the kiss and moving in even closer, their chests touching. 
Josh was the one to pull away, giggling with nervous energy. Maybe an excuse wasn’t necessary–in fact, he was still positive it wasn’t–but he said, “I don’t think my insurance covers this, so will that help?”
Danny smiled, his own face a little flushed. “I always wanna kiss you regardless of personal injuries.”
“Really?” Josh squeaked. Was that why he’d been so quiet earlier? Did Danny think about him like that when they were alone?
“Sure do.” In a feat of strength that baffled Josh, Danny began to get up, scooping him into his arms and carrying him out of the bathroom. Josh hooked one arm around Danny’s shoulders on the journey, heart pounding at this revelation. What exactly was happening here? Then Danny set him down on the couch and placed a bag of the candy they’d been sharing earlier in his lap. He sat down next to him, staying close and, with a gesture at the bag, said, “Doctor’s orders.” 
“Whatever you say, Dr. Danny,” Josh replied, popping a Dum Dum in his mouth, though he really wanted to do something else with his mouth. He paused when Danny cuddled up against him, pulling Josh’s legs over his own and looping his arm around his waist. 
“Wanna watch a scary movie?” Danny proposed, but the look in his eyes was saying something else. Josh was sure of it. 
“No, what the fuck!” Josh exclaimed, riled up and excited now that he knew Danny was so agreeable to him. He grabbed Danny’s shirt, drawing him further in, as he tossed the bag of candy to the floor with his other hand. “For fuck’s sake–I wanna make out with you.”
Another smile, but then Danny grabbed Josh’s wrist and slowly brought his bandaged hand down. “Just be careful of that,” he said, and Josh was about to protest, but then Danny was taking the sucker from Josh’s mouth and replacing it with his lips, then a little tongue, then a little teeth. 
Josh had thought about what it would be like to kiss Danny before. He was convinced there weren’t many people who encountered his beloved drummer that hadn’t. But actually doing it exceeded all of those brief fantasies–Danny was simply a good kisser. A great kisser, with a perfect mixture of tenderness and lust, matching Josh’s pace when it was easy and slowing him down when Josh got too hard and fast with it. Josh followed the doctor’s orders and was mindful of his hand, keeping it at his side and using the other to touch all over Danny’s upper body, feeling the heat and muscle beneath the pesky t-shirt while Danny’s own explored Josh’s body in tandem.
When Danny’s hand found his bulge, his cock growing harder with each kiss, a quiet moan slipped from Josh’s lips and over Danny’s. Danny moved back just enough to look down at his own hand cupping Josh’s dick through his pants, fingers gripping his length despite the barrier. Josh looked down too, already breathing hard, and wiggled his hips in encouragement. 
Meeting his gaze, Danny asked, “Can I go down on you?”
“What?” Josh asked, flabbergasted once more. They’d gone from carving pumpkins to sucking dick, apparently. What a world. 
Danny kissed him again before he asked, using the same explicit words Josh had been thinking, “Can I suck your dick?”
After he gave the green light, Josh learned that Danny was not only a good kisser but really good at giving head–a delightful, surreal surprise. Bare from the waist down, he squirmed and whimpered while Danny’s lips wrapped around his cock and his hands squeezed his thighs, spreading his legs wide enough to sink between. He made sure to keep his injured hand resting over his head, but his other was going wild in Danny’s hair, fingers tangling in the curls, brushing over his scalp, urging him to keep doing his magic. 
“Oh wow,” Josh said, eyes widening at the sight of Danny fumbling with his own fly to get his dick out. Josh almost asked to touch it himself, but Danny swallowed hard around him and he forgot that words existed at all. Danny was rocking his hips back and forth while he licked and sucked and jerked him off; Josh lifted his leg up higher to press it between Danny’s own, and then Danny dropped his hand to quite literally begin humping Josh’s leg. 
Wet sounds emanated from Danny’s hand while he stroked him, popping off to breathe. “Shit,” he muttered, resting his cheek on Josh’s stomach. “I thought about this, too.”
Josh gasped, astounded by these dreamy confessions. His hips bucked; he pushed his leg up harder against Danny’s cock. “More, Danny, please,” he pleaded, fitfully fussing with Danny’s hair again. “Suck me off. Let me come in your mouth.”
With brightly flushed cheeks, Danny took another breath and carried on, the hand on Josh’s belly pressing down hard as he sank down. Josh groaned loudly, eyes closed while his head tilted back against the arm of the couch, so close. When his hips bucked again, Danny gagged, Josh yelped and his fingers tightened in those curls as he shot right into the back of Danny’s throat. It left him exhausted but still determined, and Danny hadn’t come yet–before he lost any more energy, he pulled Danny, who was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, up by his shirt. 
“Whoa there!” Danny wiggled as Josh yanked him to his knees beside his own face. It was a bit of a tough angle, Josh had to admit, but he just grabbed Danny’s ass to pull him forward while he wrapped his lips around him. Eyes closed while he centered his focus, Josh then felt Danny’s gentle touch on his wounded hand, bringing it down. “Careful,” his drummer warned, the word soft but the voice delivering it rough. 
Josh nodded, which made the head of Danny’s cock jump to the back of his throat. Stifling his own gag by squeezing Danny’s ass harder, Josh made good use of his mouth, trying to get Danny down as much as he could while those lovely, strong, kind hands messed around with his now equally disheveled curls. 
“Fuck yeah, that feels good,” Danny said breathlessly, ending the sentence with a surprising whine, which made Josh look up. Danny looked down at him and his lips parted like he was surprised, eyes growing bigger and brighter while he stared into Josh’s. “Oh my god, yeah, keep looking at me. So pretty, Josh, holy fuck–” If Danny was going to say anything else, it was lost in a strangled moan as he threw his head back, and Josh grunted with useless surprise as slick warmth coated his tongue.
After a few seconds, Josh freed him, flopping back onto the couch. “Woof.”
Danny did the same, lying halfway on top of the back of the couch, his lower body pressed against Josh’s. “Hell yeah, woof. Wow.” He closed his eyes and sank down further, resting his head on Josh’s stomach with apparently no intention of moving despite Josh’s dick still being out. Oh well, Josh decided, and started to idly play with Danny’s hair. 
He was snapped out of his beautiful daze when he looked over at the clock on the wall. “What time are Jake and Sam supposed to be back?”
“I don’t remember,” Danny said, sounding like he was on his way to unconsciousness. 
“We should finish the pumpkins,” Josh said, very glad they decided to do this. If he hadn’t cut his hand trying to carve his own twin into one, would Danny have ever made a move?
“You can’t, Josh. Your hand,” Danny reminded him.
Josh huffed. “I can do it. I’ll be careful.” He tapped Danny’s temple and added, “Maybe you could help me?”
“Alright, I’ll help,” Danny said, lifting himself up. Before Josh had the chance to outwardly question where all of this was going in a larger sense, Danny captured him in another hot, heartwarming kiss. 
Josh giggled when Danny broke away and just looked at him. “So–should we keep this to ourselves? It might be too scary to share with Jake and Sam.”
Danny stood and extended a hand to help Josh up before he got his jeans back up. “Nah,” he said, smirking, which made Josh smile even wider. “Let’s tell ‘em. I think they can handle it.” 
---
Tagging: @sparrowofrhiannon @clairesjointshurt @starbuggie @bizzielisteningtogreta
If you want to be tagged in any of my fics, you can go here or DM me <3
You can also find my fics on AO3 (theLazarus) or wattpad (BananaJubilee)
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insipid-drivel · 7 months ago
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Personality Ratings Of The Birds That Visit My Bird Feeders
I have the beginnings of a little bird/pollinator garden outside of my bedroom window. It's nothing to show off yet, but I have a pretty big variety of regulars. And, like any bartender, I've come to silently judge them all from afar. Here are my ratings of my local Seed Bastards:
Dark-Eyed Junco:
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Bastard Rating: 4/10 They take no shit and don't mind continuing to eat within about 10' of me when I'm actively working outside. Mostly bogart the feeders through numbers rather than actual bastardy. They go berserk for sunflower seeds and shelled peanuts. Don't scare easy but also aren't terribly interested in getting into it with the other birds.
House Finch:
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Bastard Rating: 7/10 Refuses to share feeders. Chases other birds except their wives from the feeders, and will fully "nest" on tray feeders so their fat asses block the other birds from getting any from the feeder. I vaguely suspect they're racist toward the other birds because they'll only allow other house finches to eat from the feeders they're squatting in. At the same time, I've seen males feeding other males. Possible problematic queer icons. More review needed.
Chestnut-Backed Chickadee:
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Bastard Rating: 5/10 Too tiny to really pose much of a territorial issue, but kinda remind me of flying chihuahuas. They mind their own business when they can, but will not hesitate to throw hands with other birds over either the sunflower feeder or suet cake. Generally don't hold grudges and stay in their lanes, until it comes to suet cakes.
Golden-Crowned Sparrow:
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Bastard Rating: 2/10 Hang out in pretty big numbers, but otherwise mind their own business and eat when the other birds aren't taking up the feeders. They prefer the ground feeders. They're generally pretty chill. Their only true crimes are their systematic massacres of my supplies of black oil sunflower seeds.
Varied Thrush:
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Bastard Rating: 0/10 Competes with Spotted Towhees in terms of raw cunt-serving power, both my cat and I get all kinds of tingly when this thot shows up. Yeah, he knows you're staring. He knows how good he looks. He's the flashiest bitch on the block. Robins? Dowdy Catholic school kids. Goldfinches? All color, no drama. This magnificent slut is here to slay.
Spotted Towhee:
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Bastard Rating: 4/10 The hot goth vampire kid in high school you're 99% has their own OF account. Professionally Round. Uses his phat ass to own the runway (and my feeders) next to his frumpy competition. Is secretly a complete nerd. Basically if Laszlo Cravensworth was a bird.
Pine Siskin:
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Bastard Rating: 9/10 This barely-there wannabe-goldfinch would apply lube to the bottom of your heels on Drag Night. The Heelies of the bird world; never truly cool but grasping at any legitimacy he can get. Nobody appreciates plagiarism. And ugh, he couldn't even be bothered to finish blending. What a rank slag. Get off my stage and learn how to work, bitch.
Black-Capped Chickadee:
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Bastard Rating: 11/10 DO NOT BE DECEIVED BY THEIR ROUND CUTENESS. These little fuckers are the gangbangers of the forest. Subsist on raw suet cake and spite. They're consistently possessed with the rage of a lust-addled Klingon woman. What the fuck are you doing at their suet cake? God help you, if you're at their suet cake, they will c u t y o u.
Song Sparrow:
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Bastard Rating: -1/10 Babygirl. Precious. Just wants to sit on the edge of the gutters or the top of the feeders and make it as independent folk singers. Probably resort to posting hole from time to time to make end's meet. Always eat last because it's all love, my brothers in Christ.
Anna's Hummingbird:
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Bastard Rating: 9/10 While they may have cool optical illusions when it comes to their holographic feathers, they verbally abuse me every time I refill the feeder and it hurts my feelings :(
Rufous Hummingbird:
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Bastard Rating: 1/10 Shy bois. They stay out of the way until they're sure I've gone back inside before they'll visit the feeders. Generally loners.
Ruby-Throated Hummingbird:
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Bastard Rating: 3/10 Generally the It Girls of the bird world. You know your garden is officially making it when these start showing up. They know they're the most popular but generally try to stay grounded about it. Will sometimes hang out and chat while the hummingbird feeder is being refilled. Used to scare me as a kid because my sister convinced me they'd try to stab their beaks into acne spots. While untrue, they don't have much of a sense of personal space.
Mourning Dove:
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Bastard Rating: 1/10 Generally only bother the other birds because they're fat and eat in groups big enough to make it hard for the other birds to get at the seed on the ground. Sing beautifully. Makes Hatoful Boyfriend kind of make sense. Ngl kinda wanna befriend one. Confuse me a little bit whenever I see them because I live in a swamp and didn't expect to find any doves out here.
Stellar's goddamned Jay:
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Bastard Rating: WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO?!/FUCK I KNOW THE SUNFLOWER DISPENSER JIGGLES WHEN YOU TRY TO FLY YOUR FAT ASS INTO IT. NO, I CANNOT MAKE THE FEEDER POLE STOP WIGGLING WHEN YOU PARK YOUR WIDE LOAD ON TOP OF IT. GDI I BOUGHT PEANUTS FOR YOU. STOP IMITATING A SHRIEKING HAWK TO SCARE AWAY THE OTHER BIRDS AND LEARN TO SHARE YOU ABSOLUTE TWAT.
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phaerlax · 4 months ago
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Reiaru quintuple drabble 🐺🦉
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For @nuflashfic's Drabbles for the Birthday Boy event, and also for REIARU MONTH (prompt: Assistant). Maybe look up what felching means.
Rei had gotten more than enough rimjobs to know that he didn't care much for the act. Sure, a sufficiently skilled partner could deliver pleasure pretty adequately with their lips and tongue, but Rei always found himself wishing instead for the breadth of possibilities offered by a toy– or, of course, for the unmatched raw essence of a real cock. Tongue play was something he'd rather skip or get over with quickly… Especially if a partner was like Eiden, wanting to 'take things slow', pausing to kiss and tease and talk shit and whatever else he could do instead of actual sex.
It seemed that Garu's approach to it was totally opposite—though Rei questioned whether it was better. The young wolf had latched onto him with a fervent, singular focus, prying Rei's pale ass open and pushing his slobbering tongue into Rei's cleft to lick and suck like his life was on the line. Desperate little whimpers could be heard along with the loud sniffing noises of his snoot against Rei's taint, though the vigorous wagging of Garu's tail made clear that it was a joyful sort of despair.
All the stimulation was overwhelming, considering Rei had been plowed good by the Grand Sorcerer all but a minute ago. As usual, however, he couldn't bring himself to tell Garu off. He just bit his lip and squirmed as–
"Hmm, so that's the secret to make you play nice in bed, huh? All it takes is our good boy's assistance…"
"The hell are you– ghn, saying…"
Eiden just kept watching and petted Garu's head as the wolf boy worked. Garu hungrily sucked his master's warm fresh cum out of Rei; though lacking in technique, the enthusiasm would make Morvay shed proud tears.
There was a self-satisfied smirk on Eiden's face as he pondered how his quick thinking had brought about that scenario—Garu had moved to lick Master's dick clean after he came inside Rei, but Eiden quickly saved himself the overstimulation by redirecting the pup to a greater prize.
And now he had a full unimpeded view of Rei blushing. Glorious…
"Haah… Master's scent and big br– Master's scent and Rei's scent, together… 'm so… happy…" The yokai finally surfaced, having sucked out all that he could. His slick tongue rested on his lip as he breathed heavily—and then he cast an oddly guilty glance down at Rei's reddened, gaping hole. "I'm sorry, Karu is–"
The wolf suddenly shook his head before letting out a loud, dramatic cough—making a show of retching and spitting for a moment, even though Garu had already swallowed everything. Eiden looked unimpressed.
"Bleegh… right! Now that he's cleansed of disgusting slave seed– time for the mighty Karu to take center stage!"
(The overly eager and juvenile thrusts of Karu's hard little dick into Rei often reminded him that oral wasn't always the lesser option.‎ Thankfully, Eiden was there to suck him off through the few minutes that the mighty conqueror would last.)
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bluegoblinzz · 23 days ago
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Darewoof the Dazed Dynamic Doggo
Zach was surrounded by milkshakes, burgers, a lot of chatter, and his group of friends. All of them were laughing and joking with each other, and he looked around, smiling and appreciating the moment. And he wanted to appreciate it more, but he couldn’t help but shake the thought that there would only be so many more days like this before all of them would move on with their lives, and such a thought made it hard for him to stay in the moment, to enjoy himself. 
Little did he know, his phone buzzed on the table, his screen flashing on as a notification appeared. 
Master Morpheo
Attatchment: 1 image. 
Zach knew exactly what this was about and what the attachment was. A lump formed in his throat, knowing he had no choice but to leave his friends, but at the same time: he somehow felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Just for today, he wouldn’t need to tell his friends how he felt, and he wouldn’t need to remind them that they had little time left together. 
“Uhh, Guys?” Zach spoke up. “Sorry, I gotta go. Emergency at work.”
“Oh come on!” Gabe grumbled. “Don’t be such a party pooper.” 
“No really, my boss will kill me if I don’t get take this.” 
Or, something else will kill you, Zach thought to himself. 
“No, I get it,” Cece said. “Good luck!” She smirked at Zach, which made his face go red with embarrassment. Cece knew Zach’s secret and she always teased him for it, no matter how much he told her to stop. 
Zach stood up from the table, threw twenty bucks onto the table, and sped out the door of the diner. Cold air hit his face as he jogged, and the silence that was probably calm to some was deafening to him, bringing up his sense of urgency even more. He slipped into an alleyway, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked his phone, and clicked to download the gif that he received. The image was sent in this way on purpose, so Zach wouldn’t click on it by accident, triggering it prematurely. When the image downloaded, it expanded to fill his screen.
A lime and dark green spiral swirled before his eye. His muscles relaxed, and his breath slowed down, an overwhelming calm taking over. His eyes widened to look closer at the spiral, trying to make sense of the way it spun and to focus on one part of it, but the more he looked, the more it confused him, the more his mind became foggy, the deeper he fell into trance, the better he felt. 
“Grroof!” 
A doggish bark forced its way from his throat like a hiccup. At a point in the center of his mind, a seed emerged. It was seed of desire, a desire to be something different, a desire to obey. It was a seed of thoughtlessness and of calm. The seed cracked open and expanded outward, its slithering through his soul, branching out to every corner of his mind. His lips curved up into a smile, and his tongue lulled out of his mouth. He began panting like a dog. 
As he continued watching the spiral, he was brought back to the time he was hired. 
Weeks earlier, an old bearded man came to the campus for an event for school. He was a hypnotist who wore a top hat and carried a pocket watch. He hypnotized groups of people, and did things like make them forget their name, make them talk backwards, and made them do silly dances when a certain word was said. At the end of his show, he asked for a volunteer from the crowd for a special act. Zach’s friends pressured him to go up on stage and be hypnotized. 
“Man,” Gabe had said. “You’re gonna look so stupid, I can’t wait.” 
“Gabe, shut up,” Cece retorted. “Zach, you’ll do great! It’ll be fun!” 
With some more coaxing and convincing, Zach went up on the stage, which garnered applause from the other college students in the audience. 
“Thank you for coming up!” The old man said, “It’s very brave of you. What might your name be, young man?” 
“Zach,” he replied. He tried to play it cool and act cool, but his stomach churned in that moment, realizing he didn’t know how to act and didn’t know what to say. 
I look ridiculous, he thought, I already look ridiculous. 
“Okay Zach,” The man said. “Like I said, I have a very special show for you, so if you could kneel down, we could get started.” He knelt on the ground before the hypnotist, and looked up at him. The spotlight from the stage irritated him, but soon enough he didn’t notice it, as he watched the pocket watch swing back and forth. Zach saw a green light emanate from it. His entire body felt warm, and his muscles melted. 
“Allow yourself to fall into trance. You’re feeling better and better the deeper you go… going deeper and deeper the better you feel. You’re not thinking about exams, in fact forget your exams… you are here now… You remember nothing. You know nothing but now.” 
Zach had always considered himself to be a dork, or just a social outcast.That lead him to being a man of few words, which lead some of his peers to think he was weird, and others to think he was mysterious and cool. Zach had thought “fake it until you make it,” and played into this “cool guy” that people thought he was. He had worn more dark colors and bought a grey hoodie. He spoke little of himself because he thought little of himself. But that was what synthesized into who “Zach” was that day.
And that Zach disappeared. 
He wasn’t Zach, he knew nothing. He let himself melt further and his eyes followed the pretty green light. 
“You’re not a college student now,” The hypnotist said, “You’re a dog… aren’t you? Yes, you’re a dog. And you have so much joy and love. You love belly rubs and chew toys. You love playing fetch.”
As the hypnotist spoke, Zach felt the words manifest themselves as truth. His skin tingled as an intense warmth spread across his body. The tingling briefly got more intense and then subsided as a layer of fur broke the surface of his skin, all over his body all at once. His stomach as well as his the bottom of his face, his chin, and his neck all became covered in white fur. Everywhere else, he became covered in brown fur that matched his hair color. The skin on his nose and on his palms became darker and softer until his palms had black paw-pads, and his nose was the soft wet nose of a dog. 
There was was a brief but intense pressure in his lower back. His jeans ripped as a tail emerged and wagged wildly. He didn’t realize what he was doing, but the more he wagged his tail, the happier he felt.  
The green light felt as if it seeped into his brain, taking roots in the forefront of his consciousness and silencing his loudest thoughts. As the tendrils of light continued seeping deeper into his brain, more and more thoughts and memories subsided. He tilted his head with confusion, trying to make sense of what was happening, but his mind wasn’t working, and his confusion was replaced with pure joy. He felt the green light swirling around in his brain, emptying his mind and replacing thoughts with doggish excitement.  
His nose and mouth effortlessly extended forward, growing longer into the muzzle of a dog. The tips of his ears extended and grew pointy, folding and becoming concave at each of their tips,  and moved to the top of his head. The final change was in his feet, as his shoes morphed under the pressure of his growing toes, before it burst open revealing fully formed paws. His tongue lulled out of his mouth and he began panting with excitement. All he could see was green light. His head was empty. 
The hypnotist snapped his fingers. Zach snapped his head back upright, eyes wide and still panting with joy. 
“Speak,” the hypnotist commanded. 
“Grroof!” Zach replied
“Shake.”
Zach offered a hand covered in white fur. 
“Good boy,” The hypnotist said, scratching Zach behind the ear. Zach nuzzled up to him, feeling immense joy and comfort. He didn’t know what was happening or why he felt this way, but he loved the way he felt.  Zach’s ears perked up at a squeaking sound. He looked up and saw a blue ball held in the hypnotist’s palm. He pointed his muzzle toward it. The hypnotist moved his hand to the side. Zach jumped up and followed the ball, keeping it in his gaze. The man threw the ball into the audience. Zach bounded through the crowd on all fours, and picked up the ball in his maw. He was rewarded immediately by pets from the audience, He rolled over for belly rubs. He shook his arms and legs as each pet tickled him. He felt an intense love and appreciation he hadn’t felt in years. He was in heaven in that moment, in a world without any worries or fears, just joy. 
The hypnotist snapped again. The dog was gone in an instant and the college boy was back. His tail fur and muzzle were gone. There was joy lingering, as if a friend had told him a joke that left a smile on his face even as his mind wandered elsewhere. Zach spat the ball out of his mouth, eyes widened as he processed what had happened. His mind had gone, and he wasn’t himself… but he was still himself, and he knew what he was doing as he did it. Was it an act? Thinking about whether or not he wanted to be a dog in that moment: the answer would be no, but when in trance the answer was yes. He wanted to do this… it was fun…. And he sort of wanted to do it again. 
There was applause as the hypnotist took a bow, and walked off the stage. Slowly the crowd began filing out of the small theater on campus, and then the hypnotist walked right up To Zach and gave him a business card.
“You put on a great show,” the hypnotist told him. “If you ever want to be a dog again, and you’re looking for work: call me.” 
Zach snapped back to the present moment, and looked up from his phone, up away from the green spiral, still panting with his tongue lulled out. His short nose in the middle of his vision was replaced with a long doggish muzzle. He was covered in fur once again, his feet were paws, and his tail wagged wildly.  Most importantly, however, he was wearing a green shiny spandex suit, with muscular padding on his abs and arms, and a shiny cape flowing behind him in the wind. He stuck his hands on his hips, and puffed his chest out. 
Another suggestion echoed in Zach’s mind, one that Master Morpheo told him when he officially gave him a job.
“You are a super hero, fearless, enthusiastic, and strong. You expect and accept treats and headpats from those you save, and you can never resist a game of fetch. You have the ability to fly, laser vision, super strength, a super sense of smell and hearing, and a super heart.”
“You. Are. Darewoof.”
Zach tilted his head back, let out two barks, and then howled in pride. He crouched down, and then rocketed upward, taking to the sky and flying across town, holding one fist out in front of him as he flew. Cars and houses zipped by him in his vision. The college students below either stared up in awe, pointed at him, or waved to him. 
A distant high pitched scream pierced his ears. He jerked his head to the side to see where it came from and did a loop de loop in the air to fly toward it. screams were coming from one small house on the edge of campus. As he got closer to the house he saw holes in the roof and in the walls, students evacuating and scrambling, and he saw a big bulky figure holding a giant metal hammer, smashing holes into the walls. 
Whoever this was wore a jet pack, allowing him to float, and also wore a spandex suit, however it was purple blue and black, and had a big  blue spiral in the center of his chest. His eyes were concealed by a high tech visor that glowed a pinkish purple in the darkness. More importantly: his skin was a deep pink, his ears were floppy, the tip of his nose pointed upward like a snout, he had hooves instead of feet, and two big gleaming tusks jutted out from his jaw. 
The big pig man brandished his hammer and snarled at the dog hero. 
“Hello, Darewoof.” 
To be continued?
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veintrry · 2 years ago
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seeds that don't fester mold with time.
arataki itto x gn!reader, unrequited love, angst, itto being itto 5.8k
silly guy w a broken heart
an: big happy nice guy go :(((( @goodsoup101 this one's 4 u pookie bear <3 can't say I'm proud of this one
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The boastful red Oni had always been known for his large figure, but despite his intimidating size he held an even bigger heart inside; One that he – not out of his will – had found to be thumping faster for you than it had at any other Onikabuto match! Though, as his love festers how long could he withhold his feelings till everything becomes too much? He hopes that he could acquire the achievement of having blossomed a love for him too, but sometimes it's better to savour the match than the outcome.
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You could say without a doubt in your mind that Itto was one of if not the nicest people you've known. You knew he could be kind of overwhelming at times… but he always had the best intentions! That's why you liked him and truly cherished him, he was a down to earth guy and you greatly respected him for it. However, as it seems, that respect didn't make you blind enough to accept his countless requests to join the Arataki Gang.
He liked that, though. No challenge is too tough for the Mighty-Do-It-All-In-One-Arataki-Itto!
It had been a sunny day, too sunny you'd say. The sun was blazing its rays down upon inazuma, serving as a reminder to how with each passing day you found summer nearing. Frankly, you weren't looking forward to it. There were good and bad aspects: The good part is that business will be booming with more people who want to have something fresh and sweet to cool them down. The bad side? You worked at a protein stall, it was filled with fruits from inside and outside of Inazuma, however the ones from the country were without a doubt the best, being fresh and all. Point is though; you have to do a lot of back and forth to transport these fruits from Ritou to Inazuma city, and it isn't easy.
Luckily for you, you were spotted by Itto.
He and his crew were standing around by the docks of Ritou watching boats come and go, trying to think of anything they could do. Itto had been suggesting ideas but the reception has only been either disappointed faces or repeatedly re-stating that they had already tried that.
"What about another festival? This time, we'll have the Ultimate Epic Onikabuto Tournament!! Ehh??" Itto suggested but their reaction is no different than the previous one. Akira pipes up, likely with a rebuttal, "Boss, we couldn't even get the papers last time!" Itto gives a grin as though he had expected this. Yes, of course a true genius such as himself would've thought ahead.
"Ah-ah, We have Shinobu." He tuts, wagging his finger. "But Boss- Shinobu is too busy with exams!" Genta adds on, and maybe he wasn't that much of a genius as the Oni's face merely drops at the realisation, his mouth forming into an 'o' shape like it hadn't crossed his mind once beforehand. He curses under his breath, snapping his fingers as he tries to think of something else and to his luck, he does, pointing his finger upwards as though his eyes had been opened.
"Well, what if-" His words trail till his voice eventually dies down and his eyes seemingly look past the gang and towards something else, someone else. It was you. You two had come to be quite familiar with each other as soon as you came to Inazuma as he and his gang visited your stall often at the market and have attempted to recruit you a couple of times, although one could see how that's gone. He thought you would've made a great addition with your personality and despite how you mostly just live your day to day life as anyone would he had witnessed you fight at times, and, honestly, it drew him in. It felt as though you were on a stage, capturing his attention even when you had no intent of doing so. But this isn't about that!
You were moving a cart filled with the new storage you had ordered for the stall, but it seems that to your dismay you had forgotten just how long the staircases were. Your face turned bitter as your gaze lifted up, watching as the stairs only extended further and further.
It's not like he doesn't know you could take the other path, but you seemed too fatigued! Plus, this was the perfect opportunity! He'd show you just why you should join the Arataki Gang! "Boss? Boss??" "Do you think he fell asleep standing up?" "With his eyes open?! Creepy…" The rest of the crew conversed amongst each other as to the cause of Itto's blanking out only to be interrupted by the thunderous clasping of his hands.
"Alright, Gang! Our mission is to recruit," He outstretched his arm, finger pointing to your figure "Them!". They were going to remind him that this hadn't been the first time they had attempted to, but seeing the determination glistening in his gaze, they opted against it. Still he didn't fail to acknowledge their original response. "C'mon guys! I know they miiight have refused a couple of times but they just don't know what they're missing out on! We're the Arataki Gang, we don't just stop at no!"
And this is probably why they needed Shinobu, because now they were all walking towards you with confidence and excitement, hyping each other up. It was the peak essence of the Arataki Gang.
You don't fail to miss the overzealous presence that grows closer and when you face the location it arose from you weren't the slightest bit surprised at the discovery. As always it seems that the crew were up to something astounding or unusual, or both. Is what you assumed.
"Hey hey, compadre! Seems like you're in a tough spot." The Oni starts, greeting you with a wide grin on his face as he chuckles. He's quick to close the gap between you two, standing relatively close to you. "Ah, Hey Itto." You reply dryly, staring at the others in acknowledgement. "Shinobu isn't with you today?" You ask, noticing the lacking presence of a certained green-haired rebel. She was the only real sensible one so when she's not here it's hard not to notice.
He rolls his eyes, an arm on his hip as he uses his other hand to make overly exaggerated gestures. "Well, we invited her to join us but she said that she was 'busy' being 'productive'." Curling his fingers as he air quotes. "Pssh, it's whatever, we don't need her!" Disregarding how clearly offended he was by her 'abandoning' the group. All you do is giggle at usual behaviour. It was always nice to see him just being himself every day, it made you feel like even if everything went to hell he'd always stay the same.
"Either way, don't you worry about this cart! We'll take care of this one." We? Take care of the cart?? Wait, what.
You didn't get a chance to indulge in idle chit chat with the rest of the crew nor did you have time to process what he said before having the handles pulled away from you, looking forward only to see that the crew was beginning to lift the cart from each side. Your alarms were beginning to go off.
"Itto- What's this?? Really, there's no need for- Oh god." You could barely let yourself finish a comprehensive sentence. You didn't know how to feel about this. An arm slithered around your back, the hand on your shoulder pulling you closer. "Heyy, don't worry about it! The Arataki Gang is here to handle everything!" He reassured, patting your back as you nervously watched the rest climb the stairs slowly. This didn't seem smart, most of Itto's ideas weren't despite his good intent.
"Itto, I don't think-" You started but the sound of multiple items tumbling down the multiple staircases all at once cut you off and as you watched all the vegetables and fruits fall down, getting bruised with each drop, you just covered your mouth in shock, unable to fully comprehend what you saw or what it meant for you.
Despite the sound that had put both you and Arataki into a frozen state while the others kept climbing without looking back, it appeared the noise had fallen onto deaf ears. You made a mental note to suggest they go get that checked out. Only when reaching the top as they set the cart down did Genta comment, "Wow, Boss! This cart was really ligh- Oh." The silence was deafening as they had witnessed exactly why the cart had lost most of its weight on the climb up.
Passersby who were around to witness what happened merely felt pity for you. But Itto? Itto just felt guilty as he peered over at you to see you practically on the verge of tears. This wasn't what he wanted.
He raises his hands up as he tries to calm you down, "Hey! It's all okay- We'll handle it, trust me!" He stutters over his words nervously trying not to push you over your limit. Dense as he may be he knows he's messed up and as he looks around trying to ponder what to do, he starts picking up the fallen produce, his crew quickly rushing down the stairs and helping him.
You weren't upset. Sad, and somewhat exhausted? Yes, very much so. But you wouldn't take it out on them knowing they didn't mean to cause this. Still, you couldn't help the heavy sigh that leaves your mouth and it makes Itto's guilt weigh heavier on him. "Guys, it's fine," You reassure, stepping closer to aid them. "Things happen. Just leave it be, I'll take care of it." You're stopped on your path as Itto stares at you, in a way it was threatening. Cradling the bruised fruits in one arm as his other latches onto your shoulder, keeping you in place. There was a firm expression on his face. "No," He states. "This is my fault. I'll take care of it." He turns his head back towards the others. "You guys too, as well. It was my idea. Leave it to me."
You were about to retort before the rest of the gang did it for you, and you must admit they did it better than you could've. They had more of a solid reason compared to you as well, after all, they were a team.
"No way we're leaving you to it all alone, Boss!"
"Yeah, we're a gang, we stick together!",
"That's right, Boss! You know that best!"
They all spoke their thoughts, encouraging one another and Itto mainly as they maintained their ideology. Truthfully, you admired the gang's connection and commitment to one another. You believed that to have them be so passionate about this showed how good of a leader Itto was despite his few flaws. You were glad he had such good understanding people with him, and you were glad for them too.
An airy chuckle leaves the large man, his shoulders that before were sunken down like he had just been scolded raised back high as confidence seemed to seep back to him. It appears that he could always rely on them to snap him out of his concerns. "If you want to help me then I have something else you could do for me!" He peeked over at you, scanning your expression for any sign of resentment before turning his head to fully face you, relieved to be proven wrong.
With a bow he clasps his hands above his head, asking for your forgiveness as he makes a promise to compensate you, "I swear on the Arataki Gang's deep history that we will repay you for all the fruit!" The face of astoundment said it all. You doubted it. Severely. Not because you didn't take his word for it, but it's a lot of effort to put in. And you also weren't sure just how deep the history was.
"Uhm, Boss?" Mamoru steps all the way down, standing behind Itto. "I don't think we have that much mora…" He whispers into his ear. Right. Mora. Damn, society these days, always about mora! He snaps his fingers. And rather than it being a way to curse the blockage that had come onto their path, it switched a light bulb above his head.
He ecstatically widens his arms, forgetting the fruits in his hands as they fall once more, repeating the torture they had experienced before. You wince at the sight and so does he murmuring a small 'sorry' before resuming, "Then we just go and get them ourselves!" To this, a 'what' was said in unison by everyone, all except him. Hell, if it was that easy you wouldn't have been so damaged by the event that had occurred before you, no, you'd be on your merry way to pick some new fruits.
One thing you did know though, and you realised as soon as you laid eyes upon his face, was that there was no way you could persuade him. Itto wasn't easily swayed when it came to making up to people. He stuck to his words, an Oni never lies as he says. Albeit the bitter situation, you felt a tinge of happiness in your heart and a smile slipped onto your lips, your eyes narrowing onto his appearance in delight.
And he notices this. He notices it and he never forgets it like it had engraved itself into his mind. The wrinkles around your eyes, how your lashes curled in their own respective directions,, the glimmer in your orbs and the light that reflected off them, the slight soft arch of your brow. He doesn't forget them. Not even the curve of your lips, or the small tilt of your head.
When it came to you, he became more observant than usual, and he noticed things others wouldn't, but he wasn't aware that this could make him realise things about himself. In this moment he begins to feel something weighing on his heart, but this time it wasn't guilt. It was something very different.
Within that strange emotion he found a stronger drive to repent as soon as possible in hopes of seeing you smile at him that way again.
You were originally worried sick about what you were going to tell the boss, it had been all you could think about as you observed the others cleaning up at the boat docks, not wanting to leave them alone. But soon after taking care of the mess they had quickly left, departing after repeating once more that they'd bring you all that they damaged.
You appreciated the intention, but you didn't get why or how they thought they'd do it. Inazuma was filled with large land and some of the storage you had was exclusively grown outside of here, so unless they also had ordered the same exact shipment you couldn't see it happening. A sigh escapes your lips, you'd get wrinkles at this point. There wasn't much you could do about it other than pray to the Archons that something may save you from the wrath you felt was bound to come when you attended work.
It was difficult to think up a good excuse to tell your boss. I mean, this would be bad for the business. Really bad. You can't just lose the stock you need, there is only so much left and at this point you should just issue another order as soon as possible and try to make do with what you had.
Pondering about it wouldn't help you, you reminded yourself as you stayed seated on the stool of a local Inazuma restaurant, an empty glass next to you with only some small snacks for you to nibble at. The place had dim orangeish lighting, the wood was dark almost that of something you'd find in a cabin. You'd think this place would be bustling with people but in contrast it was rather quiet. It somewhat reminded you of that Tavern in Mondstadt.
You had known a couple of things about wine and alcohol due to the course you took having included it. You were beginning to wonder if maybe you should change your career path, go for something else. Mondstadt was the city of freedom after all, therefore those who stay there must be living in the land of the free.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the door swinging open, the jingle of the bell indicating the arrival of a customer. The one who entered was a long white-haired Oni you were immensely familiar with and you were more than certain was here for you as his eyes searched around till they located your figure, the smile making its way onto his lips as his eyebrows raised in excitement, verifying your hunch.
"There you are! I knew you'd be here." He exclaimed, taking a seat beside you despite his intent to only fetch you and get back on the road. "You did?" You ask. It wasn't like you often came here, you thought he must've asked around. You wonder what it must have been like. "Betcha. My Oni senses are never wrong!"
Now that was a new one. You gave him a smug smile before repeating what he had said, "Oni senses?" His face inches closer to you, "They're real." He quickly replied, a serious glint in his narrowed eyes as though this had not been the first time someone had questioned its authenticity. "Sure, sure," You disregarded it, giving him the belief he desired. You weren't sure you wanted a whole adventure just to discover if it's true or not.
"So, what is it that you wanted?" You inquire, assuming that he had been searching for you for a reason. "Awww, come on, bud! Do I need a reason to visit my favourite person?" Itto nudges you with a smirk. Favourite? You didn't know that. You knew you were somewhat close, you suppose, and he asked you to join the gang but to think you were his favourite. No, you're just over complicating things.
"I don't suppose you randomly decided to come visit your so-called favourite person for no reason now, do I? You're always up to something, Itto." He bites his bottom lip, pouting at your words, resting his head on his knuckles. It's true he always had something planned, but to think you didn't believe he'd be here just for you… it was kind of frustrating.
"Well, there is a reason for me coming here -But that doesn't mean I wouldn't come here just to see you!" His words are added on quickly so you don't have time to give a rebuttal or that cocky look he knew would've come otherwise.
There was more he wished to say, so much, but only one slipped out, and if he hadn't said it himself he wouldn't have even realised he had spoken at all. "I would come visit just to stare at you.." It's a mumble under his breath, muffled by the hand that partly covered his mouth, and as he whispers he isn't sure if he wants you to hear or not. He steals a glance at you, searching for a reaction, but you still have that smirk. Maybe you didn't hear…
He feels disappointed.
You notice the furrowing of his brows, though before you inquire as to why he seemed so bothered he had straightened his back, returning back to having that carefree smile you've become all too familiar with. "Now are you going to keep me waiting or what?!" He hops off the stool and gestures for you to join him and you hurriedly pay for your items before departing from the restaurant with Itto beside you.
"Seriously, where are you taking me?" You asked him again for what felt like a thousand times, hoping he'd finally told you. You knew the path, you often took it to get to work but you weren't sure why he'd need to have you go all the way here now. It didn't seem like you two were browsing the markets or stalls but rather Itto was specifically guiding you somewhere and as the streets of Inazuma City got more and more crowded you felt something large clutching onto your wrist. "Don't get lost behind!"
His hand was wrapped securely around your wrist, and you were grateful for his size seeing as he was able to see where he was heading much better than you did. Pulling your arm back to intertwine your hand, you felt more secure now that you could actually hold onto him properly, and you thought that maybe he felt the same considering how after the momentary hesitation he displayed, he held back even tighter. Every once in a while he'd squeeze your hand as if asking you if you were holding up and you'd merely reciprocate the gesture, answering him.
Luckily, thanks to his guidance you made it out of the crowd quicker than expected. You intended to wonder why there had been so many people but it appears the Oni before you was too excited to let you have that. "Come on, don't get distracted!" He pulled on your hand a bit reminding you of what you were here for and you merely gave him a nod, snapping out of your thoughts.
After a while he pauses, walking behind. "Alright, keep your eyes closed, 'kay?" Another hand laces its way over your eyes, blinding you. "Uhm, Itto, how am I meant to walk then?" To this you received a thunderous laugh in reply as though you had just about asked the dumbest possible thing. Which is impressive considering its the ever so dense Itto.
"That's what I'm here for!" He clarified, and you wanted to trust him, you did, but accompanied by the fact that you'd be looking like a lunatic to everyone around you, you felt somewhat embarrassed and he picked up on it. "Hey, don't worry about anyone else."
You feel the warmth of his breath hit the outer shell of your ear as he whispers, his voice evidently having softened. "You can't see them, they can't see you, right? Just focus on me, The Great Arataki Itto!" To this you let out a light giggle and he's content with that. Yeah, he can be fine with all of this.
He enjoys just being in your presence, being able to hold you like this, to be so close to you, to be just the comforting loud Itto you and many others know. Maybe you'll never realise how he feels. Still, he'll try. Someone as great as you should be made aware of it.
"Don't keep me waiting. Let's get going, Itto!" You nudged him out of his thoughts as you chuckled and he focused back on your figure. He should be living in the moment rather than getting caught up in such cheesy ideas. "You ready?" "Born ready." Yeah, you were going to be proven wrong. "Let's goooooo!" He yelled out, picking up your figure with ease, the arm behind your back supporting you as his hand reaches to keep your sights darkened.
All you feel is the slight hops as the wind hits your face as he runs, jumping down a short staircase as you let out a short yelp, bringing yourself closer to him as much as you can despite the little space left to do so, your actions only being recognised by his laugh and you could picture how he looks: his eyes shut, his already big smile widening more than you knew it could, how his hair frames his face. Sometimes you think Itto really is otherworldly entirely.
Eventually the running changes into small steps as you hear other whispered voices and Itto shushing them. The secure grip on you he has loosens as he slowly tilts your body, setting you down back onto the ground and you stumble back into his chest, relieved at the contact you didn't know you missed and an overwhelmed whine leaving you. "Don't tell me I was going too fast for you?" Your head tilts upwards to where the voice was coming from, feeling his well-structured chest behind you and slowly he removes his hands, revealing his face to you again. You smile.
"It's okay, many struggle to keep up with The Great Arataki Itto." Though he will slow down if it suits you better. Opening his eyes to gaze at you, the arm that stayed around your waist tightened ever so slightly at the sight of your smile. To be smiling at him so softly, he must be really lucky. The surprised expression he held warped into a reciprocated smile back, it wasn't wide as it normally was. In fact, it was barely noticeable. Though, his eyes held the real passion.
A cough interrupts the moment as you both glance over towards the source to see the Genta and Akira attempting to hide the smirks that grew at the sight, with Mamoru being the one to derail it, arm on his hip. He exchanges a knowing look with Itto and suddenly the Oni is no longer as quiet, seemingly having been reminded of the original intent.
"Right, right! The cart!" He exclaims, only for you to repeat, "The cart?" You tilt your head. "The cart!" The rest of the crew repeat simultaneously. OH. THE CART.
Somehow your eyes seemed to totally ignore the form that stood behind the crew. It was the very same cart you had been pushing earlier this morning, and to your surprise much like before, it was full. You wouldn't believe it. No, really, you couldn't, so you approached the cart and even felt the fruits and vegetables to verify that they were real and weren't made out of wax or something. You didn't think they'd poison your customers but you also did not know how far they'd go for you, and from this you could tell that they would go far.
"How even…?" You turned sideways, looking at the others puzzled. It was near impossible to get all of this done in a day, actually, it hadn't even been 24 hours! This didn't make sense, it was practically insane and yet here was the cart filled to the brim - it might've had even more than you needed. "Ehh? Whaddya think?" His arms raised outwardly, almost seeming like a prideful king. "Pretty neat, huh. We know." Confident as always as his hand finds home back on his hip, the other twisting as if to add flare.
Your confusion still wasn't answered, it only prevailed. "No, but really, how?? There is just no way this could be done in such a short time!" You began to question how far they went to get these, how much time, the struggle, I mean, this was no easy feat you knew that much. "Nothing is too far-fetched for the Arataki Gang!" His reply fell on deaf ears as you were too immersed, observing all the carts containments.
A chuckle leaves him and he approaches you, leaning down to you. "Maybe now you'll reconsider joining us?" You turn and you don't miss the corner of his lip lifted up into a smug smirk or how his eyes narrow down onto you as though he had you cornered. How could you deny them now after you've seen just how cool and incredible they are? "Tough luck, Itto."
You lightly hit his chest. "I'm thinking of going back to old Mond'." That's how.
And he didn't get it. He didn't get why you were still smiling without a single sign of sorrow or concern on your face. Why were you so relaxed when your words had been so… so painful to him? You see the confusion in his eyes, and you expect him to recover and encourage you, maybe say something about how his offer will always stand but he doesn't. Yes, he goes back to his go-lucky demeanour but you notice how it's slightly off. "What do you mean, compadre?! You can't leave us in the dust so abruptly!"
Pssh, what do they even have in Mondstadt? It's not even that great compared to Inazuma. Sure he's heard about the tails of their Archon, the city of freedom, blah, blah, blah, but when did you become interested in going there? "Pfft, I'm not leaving you in the dust. I've just been thinking…" You lean your back against the cart, holding onto a sunsettia, rubbing it with your thumb. "Mondstadt was really beautiful when I last visited Dawn Wineries vineyard. And, I've been thinking that maybe it's finally time I try leading a different route in life."
The Oni absorbed all that you said like a dry sponge, he was picking at everything you said. Were you not happy with where you were, weren't you content? But what about the people you know here? "What about me?"
Shit. He didn't mean to say that aloud.
Itto straightens his back and rubs the back of his hair as though dismissing what he himself said but you noticed the weight that question held. The face you, and only you, got to see. You don't think you've ever seen a face so tense. You felt like he was pleading with you, his crimson eyes penetrating you, reading you so clearly and you begin to question if you had underestimated Itto all this time. You cocked your head to the side, "Will you miss me?"
You were regarding the others behind him who were obviously aware of the conversation going on but were leaving out of respect for privacy.
Miss you… He repeats the question in his head, pretending to ponder it, to not blurt out what he thinks then and there. Itto looks back to see you two were alone and when he faces you again the expression he wears is sombre. "Let's go somewhere else, why don't we?" He gives you a hum, raising a brow at you and offering you a small simper hoping to dismiss what occurred, and although you agree to go elsewhere you wouldn't let it go.
You observed as Itto hopped from rock to rock, nearing the shore. He moved effortlessly, you shouldn't be surprised with his build. He turns you, urging you to hurry down and you do, latching onto the hand he offered you when you make it to the bottom. The two of you roam around the beach for a while before finding a shelter where you could sit and savour the view. That is, as much as you can with the atmosphere.
The white- haired Oni had been trying to smooth out the tension but you couldn't let it go. You didn't want to turn a blind eye and move on past it like it was nothing. You get that you leaving can be a big deal but you didn't like how he avoided his own emotions, it felt like he was hiding something from you.
As for him, he wanted to just relish in the few moments he has before everything falls apart. He was glad he got to take your hand for a bit as you walked and was said when they were separated because he knew that would likely be one of the last few touches of yours he'll ever have.
"Itto, what is it that's weighing on your mind?"
You are the one to interrupt the silence. Awaiting his answer that you knew he already had prepared.
He debated lying to you, making up something else or just acting as though it really only was you moving away that made him behave strangely. But he couldn't find it in him to do that to you, to deceive you so shamelessly. "I.. don't want you to go." It comes out as kind of a question, towards himself that is.
There was a conflict going on inside Itto and he didn't know how to resolve it. He desired your happiness, your comfort, of course he did, you mattered greatly to him but he found himself wondering why must you find that elsewhere, why couldn't he be the one to offer you that. Should he support you in your endeavours or should he allow himself to be selfish?
At the end of the day though, it was your choice, you both knew that, but you were curious nonetheless as to the underlying reason of his want for your company, "Why do you want me to stay?" Your words were carefully picked out. You weren't asking him why he didn't want you to leave, but why you should stay in the first place.
And, unlike what you expected, his answer comes quick as though it had been decided ages ago.
You hear him say it, you know you do, but with how the sound of gentle ocean waves sway and hit the sandy shore with a sound and how the wind appears to sway in his direction, almost leading you. You think that his words are taken with it. But you saw how his lips moved, how he had clearly confessed what held him back to you in a solemn tone with an expression almost as if he had already given up.
"Because I like you."
It was pitiful and yet he still smiled at you. He thought that it's no way good for him to offer you such a sorrowful face when saying such a thing.
"I don't just like you, I love you, and, I'm reminded of it with every moment I'm with you. Even now, even when I feel horrible and like I'm trying to keep you to myself my heart beats for you relentlessly. I don't know what to do."
You were unaware of the predicament you had put him in. How all those moments you two shared were never something small to him in the end. The reality is, Itto was always aware of his feelings, but, he wanted to keep reminding himself that this was enough, that your friendship was more than enough. But he was never that great a liar, if he was, he wouldn't have told you the truth and you wouldn't be here.
A hand reaches for his shoulder. His heart drops. He doesn't want to look at your face, because this was already confirmation of his rejection, he knew it. You don't need to say it. Don't say it.
The swirling glimmer in his orbs are no longer from the twinkle he normally held but what appeared to be tears, glossing them. He blinks them away as to not allow you to see him like that and you swallow your guilt. You don't need to speak. You merely inch closer to him, replacing your hand with your head and despite how you feel him freeze up for a moment, he slowly rests his head atop yours and you stay there for awhile.
Before, you recall thinking that Itto would be the one person in your life that would always stay the same no matter how much time flies. You weren't aware that you'd be the one to change him.
Before you departed Inazuma the owner had mentioned something odd on your last day about how the fruits seemed to rot quicker for some reason. You said it must've been the seasons changing but you thought it was peculiar nonetheless. You wondered what cause it, they were the same as any other fruit.
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swallowedbyfandom · 1 month ago
Text
Darling sister,
Is Colin still alive? If he has survived the night may I remind you that you are much too pale for mourning colors. Also I am entirely too busy right now to attend a funeral.
If he has not survived, I am sure your mother knows a questionable doctor that can make it look like alcohol poisoning. Or I can help you hide the body? We can say he ran off to the continent out of fear for your response.
Your ally in sanity, against all things Bridgerton,
Kate
Dearest Kate,
Death would be a mercy I shall not provide my boorish husband with. Did Anthony tell you what that drunken fool did? Last night Colin drunkenly boasted to all of White's Gentlemen's club that his seed is so superior even spilling on my bosom managed to impregnate me! As if it was not enough that he has gotten me with child, again! That bastard did it without even spilling in me! How is that even possible?
The beautiful simpleton I married does not even realize that now every horrid gossip will question our new child's legitimacy. I have my staff packing for Colin. I am sending him off for an extended stay with his mother. Let me look Violet in the eyes and explain why he has been exile from our home. I would love to watch that show. He can come back home once he has groveled sufficiently.
I swear the first time some Cad makes a comment about spillage or my bosom I will burn White's club to the ground. Perhaps then Will and Alice can reestablish their club. Their clientele were much better than the entitled snobs found at Whites.
Your irate ally,
Pen
Sister,
I assure you, I warned everyone present that I would not tolerate disrespect towards you. I was very clear that I would not take kindly to any rumors or comments getting around over my brother's inappropriate statement. We also gave Colin a good ear boxing before sending him home to you.
Please do notify me if anyone makes a comment that makes you uncomfortable. There is no reason for you to sully yourself with arson, our family is rich enough that I already have someone on retainer for that. It seemed like a prudent investment when Berbrooke made himself an issue. Lady Whistledown saved me a lot of coin running him out of town when she did.
There is no need for you to physically exert yourself, sister. You should be resting. I know how difficult the early stages of pregnancy can be on you.
Fondly,
Your favorite brother
Dearest Colin,
Albion bought me the most disturbing tale about your conduct at White's last night. I did not believe it for a single second. Sadly I can see you have been exiled to your mother's house. Which must mean there was truth to his accounting of your behavior. Perhaps I set my expectations too high. I am so very disappointed right now.
Oh Colin, I thought you were done drinking to excess and using your words to bring shame to my daughter. I had believed you learned from your mistakes. Instead I hear you were careless in discussing your martial relations. I didn't think I needed to tell you this, but what happens in the bedchambers between a husband and his wife is private. It is not fodder for tales or boasts. Commenting publicly about the intimacies you share with your wife is practically an invitation to others to do the same. I hope we both agree that Penelope deserves better. I hope you understand that I expect better from the man I trusted with my daughter's future.
Love,
Mama Portia
Colin,
Who is Portia's favorite son now? Thank you for blundering in such a spectacular manner. How does defeat taste? Is it as overly salted as you claimed my last cheese spread was?
Ha ha,
Albion
(Note slipped under Colin's door)
Col,
Ben saids Pen sent you here on a time out for your "fool antics". I love you Col but don't get too comfortable. If your presence here means she won't come for tea and tutoring then you will have to move in with Ben. I won't let you ruin this for me! You will not come between us.
Love,
Hyacinth Bridgerton
Apprentice
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