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persevereforahappyending · 4 months ago

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A Legacies Regret |10|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: Threats of Murder

Word Count: 1.5k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Tara’s eyes darted around the park; she had her hands shoved in her pockets, so she’d stop fiddling with her jacket. She was the one who told you to go with Gale, she assured you that everything was going to be fine, she was sure of that, at least at the time she was. She was right next to Sam, Kirby was in a van with Chad, Mindy, and Ethan close by, and Bailey was sitting on a bench not too far away, they were all connected so they could hear the call from Ghostface when it came in. But you weren’t here, Tara came so close to losing you in the apartment and now you weren’t here, you were halfway across town.

“They’ll be okay,” Sam said. Tara shook her head, getting out of her mind as she gave her sister a questioning look. “They’ll be fine.” Tara nodded; she looked down at the pathway as they continued their walk. “They’re with Gale, they’re perfectly safe.”

Tara couldn’t help but scoff at that. She didn’t think Gale would let anything happen to you, despite everything, Gale did care about you. Still, even without Ghostface lurking around every corner Tara didn’t like the idea of you being alone with Gale. Gale has already hurt you so much, no amount of groveling will ever change that, Tara just didn’t want you to get hurt again.

“Gale won’t let anything happen to them,” Sam assured. “She’s survived, what, nine of these assholes? Being by Gales side is honestly probably the safest place to be.”

Tara let out a huff at that. Gale had survived many attacks, had been stabbed plenty of times herself, she was also an investigative reporter. Basically, besides Sidney Prescott, there was no one better prepared to deal with Ghostface. Hell, the only gift Gale every gave you ended up being a gun, Tara didn’t even want to know what Gale kept for herself back at her place.

“I just…” Tara sighed. “I don’t like this. We’re out in the open,” Tara looked around the park. It was broad daylight, there were people all around them. Not that any of that ever-stopped Ghostface before, this new Ghostface chased them down and didn’t even hesitate to shoot up a bodega filled with people.

“I just need the call to last fifteen seconds,” Kirby said through the earpiece. “Just keep your eyes peeled.”

“We’re ready,” Sam said.

Tara could feel Sam’s concerned gaze on her. “It’s a good plan,” Sam assured. “We’ll be fine.” Sam rested a hand on Tara’s shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. Tara smiled up at her sister, despite their issues and despite what Sam might believe she was actually pretty good at comforting her.

“It feels like we’re missing something.” Tara looked back, there were people jogging, couples going for a walk, people playing catch, families having a picnic. Everything was completely normal; it was insane to think all these people were going about their normal lives while they were stuck trying to trap a psychotic killer who wanted them dead for some messed up reason.

Tara pulled out her phone, she opened her recent messages with you for comfort. You sent a simple good luck text instantly followed by an I love you just as Tara and Sam had gotten out of the van to start their walk around the park. Tara had instantly sent an I love you back.

She had been away from you plenty of times, she went to school, you went to work, she even went to parties without you, but she hadn’t been away from you since the attacks started. Last year every time the two of you were separated one of you, mostly you, got hurt, she wouldn’t be able to handle something happening to you while she was out trying to catch Ghostface.

She tried to just focus on the walk, all they had to do was walk around the park and keep Ghostface talking, which in theory shouldn’t be too hard, Ghostface really loved to talk. As if on cue Sam’s phone rang, Tara felt her entire body tense at the sound. They had left it on ring so they could be ready for when Ghostface called. As soon as Sam pulled the phone out of her pocket Tara looked over her shoulder to see the call said it was coming from Richie.

“You’re going to die you know,” Sam said as she answered the phone.

Tara kept her eyes open, her head constantly moving back and forth, trying to spot anything unusual. When looking for something out of the ordinary though everything seemed out of the ordinary. There were dozens of people walking around on their phones, any one of them could be Ghostface, or more likely none of them were and Ghostface was off somewhere they couldn’t even see.

“No, you’re going to die Samantha,” Ghostface’s voice came through the phone. Tara tried to ignore the chill that ran down her spine, as hard as she tried to ignore it, she would never be able to get that damn voice out of her head. “Choking on your own blood while I hack up your sister.”

Tara slowed her pace and looked at Sam, it wasn’t the first time a Ghostface threatened either of them, but it never made it easy to hear. “Unless we find you first,” Sam said.

“For a mastermind you’re not very bright,” Ghostface sighed, almost like he was disappointed in them. “Waiting for me to call, desperately hoping I’m nearby so the police can grab me.” Tara’s looked all around, there was no way for Ghostface to know their exact plan unless he was right there, watching them. “But I’m not nearby, I’m a step ahead. I’ll be seeing you, Samantha.”

Sam slowly came to a stop, her brow furrowed as she looked around. Tara mimicked the look, there was some threatening but that wasn’t the typical Ghostface call, they were missing something.

“Oh, Tara,” Ghostface added before hanging up. Tara’s eyes shot to Sam’s, somehow Ghostface knew that not only was Tara right there but that she could also hear him. “I do hope you said your goodbyes.” Tara furrowed her brow as she looked down at the phone. “Because I sure do intend on making them suffer.” The call ended with Ghostface’s sinister chuckle.

“Wh-what does that mean?” Tara asked, searching her sister for answers.

“Did you get it?” Sam asked, completely ignoring Tara’s question.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Yep, coming through right now,” Kirby answered Sam, everyone still seeming to ignore Tara’s worry. “He’s on the upper west side.” Tara could hear the confusion in her voice, that was nowhere near where they currently were. “He’s in an apartment.”

Tara’s eyes widened. “On West 96th?” Tara asked.

“How did you know that?”

Tara didn’t bother answering Kirby’s question, she was already pulling out her phone. She tapped your name and brought the phone to her ear, speed walking her way out of the park. She was aware of Sam following behind her, but she wasn’t about to wait up. “Pick up, pick up,” she mumbled to herself. “Pick up the fucking phone,” she gritted her teeth.

“Hey,” you answered, the sound of your voice instantly making Tara relax but she didn’t slow down. “What happened?”

“Ghostface is there!”

“Wait, what? What are you talking about? What…” Your words trailed off, Tara looked around frantically, she needed to find a way to get to you.

“Y/N?” she asked. “Y/N?” she looked down to see the call had been disconnected. “Fuck!” she quickly tapped your name again; she was going to keep calling until she could see you safe and sound for herself. The call just rang, until she eventually got your voicemail. “Fuck!”

She gripped her hair as her eyes scanned the street, she didn’t even know what she was searching for until her eyes landed on Bailey’s car. She didn’t hesitate to run towards the car, flinging open the driver’s side door. Tara didn’t even have time to enjoy the fact that not only was the car unlocked but the keys were also tucked up in the sun visor. Tara tapped your name again, putting it on speaker but once again it just continued to ring.

“Sam!” Tara called out, interrupting whatever she was saying to Bailey. “Get in!” Sam’s eyes widened but she didn’t hesitate to run over and hop in the car.

Tara rolled up the windows and ignored Bailey’s orders to get out of the car. She clicked the button, locking the doors before he could get to them. She didn’t care if Bailey was a cop, she didn’t care if this was a cop car she was stealing, nothing was going to stop her from getting to you.

“Keep trying,” she said, handing Sam her phone.

Sam did as asked and redialed your number once again. The ringing filled the inside of the car as Tara flipped on the sirens and sped out into traffic. She weaved in and out of the cars as they moved out of her way, pressing her foot harder on the gas as the ringing ended, only for Sam to try calling you again.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrryxcx @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

@riyaexee

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #a legacies regret

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moody-alcoholic · 5 months ago

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Cross My Heart

Part 11 - More Then Friends

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: mentions of blood, its all fluff.

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

Price, Ghost and Gaz left first. Leaving before the sun was up in a somewhat hectic rush. Their plan was to get over the border then commandeer a car or something. Price said it could be a few days before you hear from them but they will send word.

Soap sulked down the stairs an hour or so later, when the sun was just peaking through the clouds. You can’t wait to leave here and never come back. The whole blood soaked place can burn to the ground for all you care.

“They left already.” You say as he comes to sit on the sofa next to you.

“I know. Si- Ghost came to say bye.” He shuffles on the couch rubbing his burnt arm. You’ll need to change the dressing before you leave. “We should get going soon. We need to get a car. It’s easier to do while it’s still dark out.”

You follow Soap’s orders in silence, the lack of sleep is finally catching up with you. You change the dressing as Soap grits his teeth complaining about itching. You have no idea if it’s healing or if its still supposed to look the way it does. It’s only been a day or so anyway.

When you’re done Soap steals some supplies- mostly food -from the safehouse and you set out to look for a vehicle. It doesn’t take you long to find a rather old looking car, you keep an eye out while Soap hotwires it like he’s done this a thousand times. Before you know it you’re on the road driving back to Sakhra.

“What’re you thinking about?” He asks after at least an hour of silence, you were starting to doze off. His question jolts you awake and you look over at him.

“Why did you kiss me?” You ask. He smiles.

“I just had to, you’re stunning lass.” He says, it makes you blush. You turn to look out the window of the car.

“Don’t falter me, a few days ago you would have put a bullet in my head.”

“Yeah, we’re not merciless killers though.” You scoff, they’re soldiers, they're trained killers. You sit there in silence.

“You’re a good kisser.” He says suddenly.

“What- I mean. It was just a kiss.” You say feeling embarrassed, he just laughs. That annoys you, he’s being so chill about it, what if Price found out? What if he finds out then decides you’re a liability?

“You all seem close.” You say trying to move the subject on from you and Johnny.

“Closer than you think.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’re a close unit. Worked together for years. When you spend so much time together, you develop a strong relationship.” He says switching between watching the road and your expression. You have an eyebrow raised, you expected him to continue.

“Brothers in arms right?” You say, you’ve heard that before from soldiers.

“More than that.” You shake your head scoffing. He’s playing with you, trying to wind you up. What's closer than brothers?

“You fucking each other or somthing.” You joke back. He doesn’t say anything, you turn back to look at him frowning. He’s just smiling, the cheekiest grin you think you’ve ever seen. “Really? You’re messing with me.” He just laughs, it doesn’t help you decide if he’s joking or not.

You let out a sigh looking out at the winding road. You’re not far now.

____

When you make it back to the ULF base the place is almost empty. You both head straight to the doctor who fixes your stitches and tends to Soap’s arm as well as giving him a pot of burn cream and instructions.

When you’re done you both go to see Farah. Alex is with her, they both look tired. The table is filled with maps dotted with big red X’s. You look round as Soap catches them up on what happened. You wonder if Price has sent word yet, you hope they’re okay.

“-We take out Konni, before they make it any further south.” Farah says, you look over at them, catching the end of the conversation.

“We don’t know if Konni are moving or not. Price will be able to give us some idea.” Soap says.

“We could be waiting days for that.” Alex says crossing his arms, he doesn’t have a sling anymore, maybe his arm was just sprained.

“They attacked their own bases?” You ask pointing at the map.

“They want to shift the blame to us.” Farah says.

“The fact they used American weapons on civilians has got the US all wound up.” Alex says.

“They’re spreading us thin, I’ve already lost 20 men. We can’t fight them on the front without leaving ourselves open to attacks.” Farah sighs.

“You have weapons from the US, why not fight back?” You ask. There’s silence, people look around at you like you’ve just asked them to do something impossible.

“If we fire on them we lose our advantage.” She says.

“Which is?” Soap asks.

“If the Americans come, they won’t be after us.” She says. You look down at the map, the new line Al Qatala have formed. There’s no news if Konni or Al Qatala forces have made a move from the border, it seems like they’re waiting for the ULF to make a move first.

It’s too many targets for Farah to handle alone.

“What about hitting them at the source? Take out the rest of their weapons.” You say pointing at the farm you know they’ve been storing munitions and rockets.

“They were fired from Russia.” Alex said.

“No, they were fired from inside the country. I bet if it's going to be anywhere it’s there.” You tap the map. Farah and Alex look at eachother.

“A full scale raid is not possible.” She says, stepping back from the table.

“We could go in quiet.” Soap says. “Just the 4 of us.”

“The place will be heavily guarded. They could have also moved them elsewhere.” Farah says.

“Even if we don’t find the missiles we will deal a pretty big blow to their resources.” Soap says. “You need all the help you can get.”

“Okay. Tonight, you should get some rest.” Farah says. Soap smiles at her and Alex. He grabs your arm gently pulling you out of the room. You’re heading down to the sleeping quarters before Soap grabs your arm pulling you into a store room.

“Hey!” You call, you almost trip over something as his hands grab your shoulders and he pushes you up against the wall. Before you have a chance to say anything his lips lock onto yours. His kiss is needy, his tongue pressing into your mouth. You hum, closing your eyes and letting your hands drop to his waist.

“Johnny.” You breathe as he pulls his lips off you, his mouth moving to your neck. His hands

“What?” He asks, he’s not stopping though, running his tongue up your neck.

“What if Price found out?”

“What do you mean?” He says. “Want him to join, I reckon he’ll be down for that.” He chuckles, now you’re convinced he's winding you up. You push your hands up his shirt and he grip your waist, his fingers digging into your skin, you’re sure he’ll be leaving marks. You run your fingers up his chest, feeling each muscle and scar. He’s hairy, you don’t care, now you’re getting needy, his lips running over you sucking on the sensitive spots on your neck.

He looks up down at you, his hands come to hold your face. “I’m so glad I got you first. I thought I was going to have to fight off Gaz, or Price.” You frown at him but before you can press him further he kisses you. You drop your hands from his chest, gripping his waist and pulling him closer to you.

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door. You freeze, you didn’t think anyone knew you were in here.

“Soap? There’s word from Price.” it’s Alex’s voice. Johnny smiles down at you.

“We’ll finish this later.” He says quietly before reaching over to open the door. You feel yourself blushing as Alex raises an eye at you both. Johnny slaps him on the shoulder and they walk away.

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megaderping · 1 year ago

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I feel like when people compare Akechi to Light Yagami, they fundamentally misunderstand his character. Their similarities really end at their designs, and Light is the kind of person Akechi would despise. Light Yagami lives a pretty privileged life at the start of Death Note. He has a stable home, with two parents and a sister who care about him. He's a successful student. There isn't really inherent tragedy to his life. The whole reason he starts using the Death Note is a mix of curiosity and a jaded worldview, and when it works it empowers him, very quickly goes to his head, as he believes he is one who can be a god of a "new world" once the shock of his initial kills wears off. While his first kill was to help someone, that altruism didn't last. He is in charge of his choices, while Ryuk mostly vibes and maybe eggs him on a little. Fundamentally, Light has something Akechi lacks: agency, and a comfortable life he took for granted. Meanwhile, Akechi is someone who lived on the bottom rung of Japanese society. His very existence is shameful there, between his mother being a sex worker, his status as an illegitimate/"throw away" child, and his mother's suicide. Years languishing in a foster system that is notoriously inhumane, in a country where 90% of the adoptions are grown men for inheritance and patriarchal reasons, while very few children in the system find permanent homes. When Akechi awakens his power, he approaches Shido not because he wants to kill people but for a stupid revenge plan cooked up by a traumatized child who's been nudged along by a malevolent god. He wants to build Shido up so that at the height of his power, he can expose him for the monster he really is, while another part of him genuinely wants to be useful to Shido, as Cogkechi later calls out. His feelings are a mess of contradictions, and so it's no surprise that Shido was able to mold him into his assassin at only 15 years old. It's also worth noting that Akechi only approaches Shido with his ability to cause psychotic breakdowns. Shido is the one who teaches and instructs him to do shutdowns. He's still complicit, very sunk cost with his revenge plan, but as I spoke of here, even if he wanted to quit, he couldn't alone. Shido's cleaner and control of the law and ability to effortlessly turn him in would render the Metaverse his only safe haven. I think people look at 11/20 Akechi and Akechi in the early parts of the engine room and assume that's just his "true self," when in reality it's another mask. Royal makes it very clear because in Rank 7, he outright warns Joker of what's to come via a pool metaphor and offers an out (though he's MUCH happier if you don't take it/stick to your principles), and in Rank 8, he goes on that big "I hate you" speech... while Sunset Bridge is playing. Y'know, the song that plays at the end of most confidants to reaffirm bonds. So when he smiles as he shoots what he assumes to be Joker, that doesn't mean he's genuinely happy. More likely, he's an emotional clusterfuck, given he also is disoriented enough to namedrop "Shido-san" over the phone, and in the subsequent meeting with Shido, tells him not to kill the Phantom Thieves and that Morgana is "just a cat." Yes, he says they'll make them fear for the rest of their lives, but remember, he's talking to Shido. The things he says are likely all incredibly calculated to sound appealing to Shido. And when you consider that he planned to utterly destroy Shido's reputation after the election, the "delay" makes even more sense.

Later, Akechi goes on about how the people he induced shutdowns on were deserving of their fates, but I don't think he believes it so much as it's the only way he could convince himself that it was worth it, and given how much society failed him, and given how many of the people he targeted were likely rivals/competitors or rich fucks, I think he'd be less inclined to assume good faith. Kunikazu Okumura was not an innocent little victim, after all. He was one of the people who requested breakdowns and shutdowns the most. I think Akechi enjoyed killing him not because of how it'd hurt Haru, but because of catharsis. Because Okumura is just as monstrous as Shido, so why should he feel remorse? However, I don't believe he feels the same about Wakaba, as when he discusses her with Shido, he mentions how her fate was because she refused to willingly work for him. It's another justification, but I personally think Wakaba's death was the most painful for him because he was effectively making Futaba just like him. That's why I think his reaction to Sae threatening Sojiro's custody was genuine. Anyway, evil grinning Akechi is just another mask, as I said. Keep in mind, this is someone who laments not meeting Joker years ago, someone who Morgana outright points out is lying about his hatred. And that's the thing. Light Yagami, while a really fascinating character, is not someone who had all this childhood suffering or lack of agency. He does not regret his actions in the slightest and goes down due to his own hubris in both the anime and the manga. While you can argue that Ryuk set him up by dropping the Death Note, Light was the one who picked it up and chose to use it. Any nudging from Ryuk didn't coerce Light into doing it because Light seized the opportunity. No, if Light Yagami is like anyone in Persona 5, it's Masayoshi Shido, not Goro Akechi. Both believe they are god/god's chosen, that they are the ones who will reshape the world to their ideals, and to be frank, both use and abuse women to serve their own purposes. Goro Akechi goes down sacrificing himself for the Thieves and pleading with them to stop his father and again in Maruki's reality when he refuses to let Joker accept a gilded prison of a world for his sake when he knows better than anyone what it's like to have no true freedom. If you max his confidant, you see him in the postcredits, leaving his survival entirely possible, and I think it works because at the end of the day, Akechi was meant to be a victim and a foil. Light is a villain protagonist and a cautionary tale. Though its his POV we follow, he isn't someone we're meant to root for, but I definitely don't think enjoying the character is a bad thing at all. He's really interesting! I just think that a lot of the Akechi and Light comparisons are surface level at best.

#goro akechi #persona 5 #p5r spoilers #character analysis #long post #death note spoilers

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toadminako · 3 months ago

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In the wake of the follow-up Davechella Q&A, I've assembled my interpretations of the modern AU characters - I tried to keep it mostly in-line with what's in the text, but a few headcanons have slipped in. Feel free to disagree!

15. Gibson: The most sullen gay you’ve ever met who listens to the most miserable songs you’ve ever heard. Deeply cares about his boyfriend Hickey and supports him getting therapy. Always goes to DJ DollEyes gigs even though he claims he doesn’t vibe with that kind of music – in fact he’s secretly counting down the days until the new Lady Gaga album.

14. Hartnell: Just a cool guy having a chill day. A major simp for his hot blonde girlfriend. Likes a Sunday morning lie-in.

13. Collins: A sensitive man who suffers from thalassophobia and thanatophobia, but tries to cope with his anxieties by being a terminal Wife Guy. Enjoys a bit of metal.

12. Hodgson: Loves a diva and singing in French. An obsessive James Bond fan who will bore you with factoids if given the chance. May have just gone through a messy breakup, or maybe that’s just Christos’ ultra-sad playlist talking.

11. Bridgens: A sweet, old-fashioned fellow who just wants to be left alone to enjoy gardening in privacy with his problematically young husband.

10. Tozer: A newly minted bisexual with a huge collection of threadbare hoodies who will provide the Spotify Premium account and happily drive for hours to fuck you if you ask him nicely. Sometimes dabbles in a messy BDSM relationship with Undiagnosed Hickey, but he knows it isn’t good for either of them.

9. Irving: Somehow manages to be even more of a repressed homosexual than his OG counterpart. Still a practicing Christian to some degree while having a lot of concerns over the role the church plays in modern politics. Collects blurays of sentimental queer movies but rarely gets laid. May have an unrequited (?) crush on Hickey or Tozer which he spends a lot of his private time “unloading” about 😏.

8. Blanky: By far the coolest of your friends’ dads. Spent his youth smoking weed and vibing to Santana, but nowadays he just wants to grill. He fucks for sure, and he fucks great, but doesn’t always have the energy (or the pills) and is just as happy to throw on a prog rock vinyl with you.

7. Jopson: The bestest and most specialist DJ, beloved by all, who only very occasionally gets introspective about his mummy issues. Curated Jamie’s hospital playlist.

6. Little: Spent some years serving in the armed forces but it’s left him with a lot of misgivings over modern imperialism and what it does to the young people who join up. Now he’s stuck in a middle management job with a boss he hates. Suffers from depression and anxiety which he raw-dogs by listening to Green Day.

5. Goodsir: A well-meaning guy who loves world music. Probably has an insufferable instagram account where he posts photos of his travels with the hashtag #blessed. Still in some manner of close relationship with Silna.

4. Hickey: Without treatment he was really struggling with a confused sense of identity and feeling generally disconnected from the world and other people. Post-treatment he still has a lot of anger but is slowly working through some major daddy issues he didn't even realise he had. His relationship with Gibson is much more stable now that he’s medicated, and he keeps sending his boyfriend achingly romantic mixtapes, which Gibson fucking hates.

3. Fitzjames: A beautiful man who became a beautiful woman and didn’t hurt anyone in the process, only gathering love around her 😭. She may have also been in the armed forces in the past, which left her with some trauma, but she has a great deal of love for the people she served with. A dog person who loves going to the opera.

2. Crozier: A miserable old grouch but one who isn’t actually doing that badly all things considered. He’s now at an age where goodbyes take up a lot of his life, but ever since he made a veiled confession by putting “Your Song” on Jamie’s hospital playlist, they’ve been steadily growing closer.

1. Silna: Living her best life, enjoying both modern music and exploring her cultural roots. Still carries some anger over how women and indigenous women especially are being treated today, but she has a close, supportive family of strong women who lift her up. Has a romantic partner whose gender is left ambiguous.

#I haven't included the extra playlists since I haven't thought too deeply about Gore or birds yet #I welcome any alternative takes or challenges y'all may have #Dave K had so many thoughtful and funny answers once again!#davechella #the terror

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smusherina · 1 year ago

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yard work - chapter 11 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 12

Making the scrapbook was cathartic. Remembering the good times, the innocence of your childhood, was as much of a joy as it was painful. The pictures were all quite good quality since Abuela had had a film camera. Some photos had been taken with a digital camera, which had probably originally belonged to the Georges and ended up in your possession somewhere along the way.

Regina and yourself playing in the Georges' backyard and swimming in their pool, beaming smiles directed at the camera. You could almost hear the laughter. I miss when we used to be able to just have fun together like this. I guess it's a part of growing up.

Regina in a white frilly dress, carrying a small basket of flower petals, donning a crown of roses on her head. She was pouting, clearly unimpressed by the whole thing. You hadn't been at the wedding since it was a George event, but Regina's mom had been so elated her daughter had gotten to be the flower girl. I remember I was so jealous you got to go to a wedding and I couldn't. You hated it, though, which was funny. You used to leave the room whenever your mom insisted we watch the tape. I wonder if she still has it.

You sitting with Regina, hip to hip, on plastic chairs while a newlyborn Kylie slept in your laps. Regina, eyes stuck on her baby sister and a thoughtful look on her face, while you looked at the camera with a smile. She's growing up so fast. Don't think I don't know you care about her. There's gonna be a time you'll regret not spending time with her. I already feel it.

Mrs George, Abuela, Regina, Kylie in her mom's arms, and you grouped together at a parking lot. You and Regina had on little graduation gowns and had scrolls in your hands. Elementary school graduation. The summer before middle school. End of an era. I love your mom's clothes, they're so nineties. Does she still have those jeans? You should get ahold of them before somebody else does...

Remember when I sliced my hand open when we were peeling apples? That was a time for sure. I still have the scar!

You taped pictures onto the pages, wrote little things here and there, hoping the labour of your love wouldn't end up in the garbage. Or if it did, Regina would read skim through it first.

I think this album was the first time we agreed on music. Britney Spears really brought us together, huh? We even learned the choreography of Baby One More Time. Mrs George loved it. I bet there's a video of that somewhere.

Mostly the scrapbook was filled with anecdotes about your childhoods together. You did write a letter of sorts on the first page, regarding your intentions with the whole thing.

I made this for you to commemorate the good times we had. You know me regrettably well, so I think you know how I tend to hold onto things. I still have that gaudy pink Build-A-Bear you made me for Valentine's Day that one time. It's one of my most important possessions, only second to the memories we have together. You'll always be a friend to me, Reggie. If not forever, or from now on, then back then. I love you. Yours, Jorts.

You'd pretty much finished the whole thing by the end of the weekend. You spent Monday and Tuesday decorating the front cover, mostly because you purposefully put it off. You cut out letters from magazines and glued them there, painstakingly forming the words Reggie & Jorts. You'd tried to come up with something clever, but making a pun or a dumb joke felt like cheapening the whole album. A simple name made up for with fabulous decorations!

You weren't much of a painter, but you figured it'd be fitting if the album reflected its contents. It was fine if the roses you painted looked like a five-year-old did them. A good majority of the pictures featured you and Regina huddled around a crafts table, similar projects scattered all around you, young with clumsy hands but filled with artistic passion.

The album in itself was an earthy green colour, something Regina undoubtedly found ugly. The flowers brightened it up somewhat, but there was only so much ages-old acrylic paints could do. You outlined some with Sharpies. If you didn't know better, one could assume it looked like that on purpose.

You took it with you to school on Wednesday. You had it weighing your backpack down the whole day. You sweated under all your layers, and by the end of it, you were sure you were sporting some epic pit stains. Gross, but you were so nervous. You hadn't broken into anyone's locker in so long. And it was Regina George's locker.

You loitered around the hallways as they emptied out steadily, people heading home or off to extracurriculars. As you approached Regina's locker, you swallowed down your nervousness and got to work.

It wasn't hard. The combination locks were all old and weak, more of a formality than an actual barrier between one's stuff and a burglar. The lock clicked open easily and you wasted no time in stuffing your album inside.

"Hey!" Just as the resounding click of the lock going back into place came, a voice called out to you. "What are you doing with Regina's locker?"

"Uhh..." Gretchen Wieners stood at the intersection of hallways, hands on her hips and accusatory eyes burning holes in you. You made the swift decision that you did not have time for this. You booked it.

"Hey! Get back here!" Gretchen, surprisingly considering her heels, started after you. "What did you put in it? You cannot prank Regina, or- or, oh, was it a bomb?"

"It's not a bomb!" You shouted over your shoulder, sprinting towards the exit. The aggressive clacking of Gretchen's heels on the floors as she ran after you would surely haunt your nightmares. How could she even keep up with you?

"If it's not a bomb then what!" How was she closing in on you? It seemed like she was not even fazed by your little race, meanwhile, you were already winded. The exit was not that far away, but it felt like miles.

"It's Regina's business now! Ask her tomorrow at school or something!" The doors to freedom approached. "Stop chasing me!"

"Stop running!"

"No!"

You burst out and quickly hopped down the stairs, two at a time. Gretchen was still on your tail, but once she got to the top of the stairs shouted: "Karen! Tackle her!"

You hadn't even noticed Karen fucking Shetty. There was no not noticing her when the girl sprinted at you with perfect athletic form and squashed you like a linebacker.

You collided and flew into the snow. Better than the concrete of the footpath but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Get off of me!" You tried to get out from under her, but Karen was surprisingly dense. She was small but it was as if there were stones in her body instead of organs. "Fuck!"

"Keep her there, Karen, very good."

"Thanks!" Karen beamed, which was a much more common expression on her than the bloodlust she'd shown earlier.

"This has nothing to do with you." You snarled, still wriggling. "This is between Regina and me."

"Whatever's between Regina is between us," Gretchen said, all hoity-toity. "Now, tell me exactly what you put in her locker."

"A fucking photo album." You hissed, closing your eyes and clenching your jaw. What lie could you come up with? "Our families used to know each other. It's mostly pictures of her, so I just thought to... Return it."

"Oh, that's so nice!" Karen's hold loosened and you went to escape.

"Nuh-uh, not good enough." Just like that, Karen's weight slammed back down onto you. Your breath wooshed out of your lungs.

"What more do you want?" You wheezed out, getting sick and tired of this.

"Why was it in your possession?"

"I don't fucking know! It just was!"

"Hmm. And why couldn't you just give it to her?"

"You think that would've gone well, Gretchen? Seriously?" You turned your head with great effort, staring up at the girl. "Please, just let me go."

"I don't think I believe you." Gretchen squatted next to your head. "We're going back and checking it's what you say it is. And then you might be free to go."

"Fuck you." You hissed but made no move to book it when Karen hauled you up.

"That's not very nice." Karen pointed out.

"I don't want to be nice to Gretchen right now." You had no real issue with Karen, even if she had just tackled you.

"Oh, okay." You couldn't see her when she was holding your wrists behind your back, but you could imagine she was bobbing her head up and down like she was known to do.

You were walked back into the building, going mostly without a fight. Gretchen strutted along proudly as if capturing you was some great victory. Regina had trained her well. You weren't sure if that was impressive or just sad.

"Open it." Gretchen gestured once you were back at Regina's locker.

"I need my hands to do that." You helped out, smiling at Gretchen like she was stupid. Sputtering and offended, she instructed Karen to let go.

Instead of running like you should've, taking the chance you could get out if Karen didn't get a one-up on you, you obediently cracked the code again. Was it selfish that you kind of wanted others to know about you and Regina? Was it totally horrible of you to want to know it was real and have proof of that? Well, if it was, there was no helping it.

Gretchen snatched the album from the locker before you could even think to touch it. Karen sidled up to her, peering over her shoulder as she opened it.

You stood by, waiting for their judgement and looking at the ceiling. There'd been a water leak right there, based on the discolouration. Gross.

"You... You're J. J is for Jorts." Gretchen said. She sounded weird, like hollow or something. "J is for Jorts." She said again, breathy and disbelieving.

"What?" What the fuck was going on?

Karen spoke then. "She talks about J a lot. Like, a lot a lot. A whole lot." You nodded slowly as Karen went on. "J's like, her true love. It's so cute."

"J is not her true love, Karen! They are both girls." Gretchen pointed out. You had to agree. "Are they?" She looked you up and down judgementally.

"Yes. I am a girl." You said. It was true, you were female and around the age that it was acceptable to be referred to as a girl. Even so, it made you distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hmm." Gretchen didn't seem to believe you. Karen was busy cooing at the pictures of small Regina. It was sheer luck they hadn't bothered to read your writings.

"Look, can I go now? I know I'm busted, you're probably gonna confiscate the album, and Regina will never see it. Happy?"

"No. Karen, please put it back in the locker." Gretchen said, not taking her eyes off of you. Karen did as asked with a pout. "What is your relationship with Regina?" The album was back in the locker, but it hadn't been locked again.

"Nothing." And that was true. There was nothing there anymore.

"That's a lie and you know it. If you're J, then you've known each other at least since middle school. Based on the pictures, even longer."

"Who is J?" You asked in exasperation.

"Somebody who she has protected for years now. Somebody who is always better than we could ever be." Gretchen pointed between herself and Karen. "J is important to her."

"Okay, well, good for J, I guess."

"You're so infuriating." Gretchen sighed, pinching the skin between her eyes.

"You aren't the first to tell me that."

"Of course, because Regina has said that to you. Because you've known each other forever. Because you're J."

"Listen, I may look a bit butch, but I have a perfectly ordinary girl name."

"That is not the point!" She spoke fast and high-pitched. "You. It's you. You've been under our noses this entire time! Do you realize how much easier things could've been if you were around?"

"Excuse me?" Now, you were really lost.

"You're excused," Karen said cheerfully. You nodded to her in thanks.

"We could never be as good as you. It was like we were placeholders for the ultimate pretty girl she'd somehow let slip. And it's you. In a flannel and hoodie, ratty jeans, dirty shoes, no fashion sense to speak of. It's you." She said that last part with contempt.

You were reeling. Regina had talked about you to these two. Had compared them to you, cited that you were better. For years she'd done that. She'd never forgotten about you.

"Look, Gretchen, I'm sorry Regina's treated you badly." You'd lost the need to defend her, even still. Then again, even if you hadn't, there was little you could argue about with the two she'd tormented the most. "You can probably tell this is something Regina doesn't want coming out."

"What does that matter?" Gretchen asked, eyes far away and legs beginning to pace. "We could- could finally bring her down. Yes. We have J, we have everything she wants. She'll come grovelling."

You took a deep breath. You didn't feel angry, you were too tired to get angry at mean girls at this point. Besides, nobody could rile you up like Regina.

"You're wrong." You put it plainly. "What Regina's been doing to these people, to everyone around her, is wrong. But what I find despicable is how everybody is the same. I know her reasons, I can sympathise with her, but I can't say the same for you. So tell me." You paused to take a deep breath. "Why?"

"I'm not good at riddles, I'm sorry." Karen said, looking genuinely apologetic.

"It's okay, Karen, Gretchen can answer for you both."

"She deserves it." Gretchen said, steel in her tone.

"You sound just like Cady Heron and Janis 'Imi'ike. She hurt them too. What do you think ruining her life will achieve?"

"I'll be the new Regina George."

"Do you hear yourself? You still idolize her. If you're gonna be the new Regina George, it's always going to be a Regina George world. Don't you want to be Gretchen Wieners?"

"No!" She screeched. "Gretchen Wieners is lame, boring, too eager, a slut, desperate-" She took a deep breath.

"Okay." You said. "Why? Because Regina said so? Why would you believe her? She's just the same as you. Look," You pulled the album back out.

"Here we're in the Georges' pool. She would not go to the deep end. Y'know, she refused to even go in without those arm floaties for the longest time. Eventually, some boy made fun of her for them and that was the last time.

"And in this one we're driving back from summer camp. Regina was already tall enough to go without a booster seat, but I wasn't. She'd just thrown the biggest tantrum 'cause Mrs George didn't allow her to take off her seatbelt to sleep. She went out like a light, anyway.

"We're in Six Flags there. We'd just gotten those ice creams and you can see that Regina's isn't sticking to the cone all that well. Right after the shot, it just slid off. Regina was inconsolable. I offered her mine so we could share, and that seemed to be good enough for her but her dad was not having it. He threatened to take us home if she didn't stop crying right then, that it'd be all her fault that their whole family wasted money and time on this stupid trip. Eventually she calmed down and Mr George didn't have to drive us back."

You sighed. "I already tried this with Janis, in a way. I don't think Regina would appreciate me airing out her personal life like this, but... I don't know..." You closed your eyes for a moment. "I just want people to stop making things worse for her. She's been so wrong for so long, and I know I can't keep defending her, but I just don't think revenge will make her regret anything that she's done."

Karen hummed. "My auntie's been teaching me about karma. So, like, if she feels what she's made others feel, then won't that like... Fix her?"

"I don't want to hurt her." You said, resolute. "Maybe, it could be the most effective way to make her see her shortcomings. But I don't want to. I do not want to hurt her." You looked between the two. "And that's where we differ, I guess."

Gretchen didn't say anything, eyes glued to a picture from the Six Flags trip. Regina had mustard and ketchup smeared all over her face while she was holding a napkin to your lips, in the process of wiping your face.

With that, you snatched the album from her hands, deposited it back into the locker and slammed it shut. The lock clicked. Without a word, you began to talk towards the exit. Neither of them followed you or said anything to you.

You couldn't stop people from taking their revenge. You had done your best to be diplomatic. Evoking sympathy in hormonal teenagers wasn't something easily done, or maybe you were just shitty at it, but there was little else you could do. If you went ahead and retaliated, hurt them for hurting someone you cared about, the lines blurred.

You'd just be another mean girl.

Notes: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be the last one, unless I start rambling or something. After that, I'll do a less structured series of epilogues. Loosely related oneshots, that kinda vibe.

Also, my writing assistant stopped working in the middle of this, so if there's stupid typos I'll come fix them later.

I swear to fucking god if the taglist doesn't work I'll start breaking bones.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(this actually makes me angry. why. why doesnt it work. i type in the @ and then i type in the name and then it shows up in the lil' box and i click it but then it don't show up ;-;)

(this is cyber bullying. the cybers are bullying me.)

(anyway, if you want to be added to the taglist there is no gurantee if it'll work, but i'll add you if you want! just comment on this post :) if anybody has any ideas why it's like this, lmk!)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #wlw #fic: yard work

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therealcocoshady · 6 months ago

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Kinktober - Day 11 - Choking + Restraints

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : Hey everyone ! Started working on this Kinktober episode (part of the Dom!Marshall x Sub!Reader series) a lifetime ago but I finally took the time to finish it. Hope you enjoy it ❤️. Tagging @tiny-gay-satan who always showed love for this series 🥺

CW : BDSM - Dom/Sub dynamic - Punishment - Restraints - Choking - Spanking - Brattiness

It was another weekend you spent with your Dom. He’d had a rough week at work and the usually firm structure had given way to something more relaxed. You still had your rituals but you could tell he didn’t feel like enforcing protocols. He went surprisingly easy on you, but you didn’t mind. You had spent most of Saturday lounging around and cuddling lazily on the couch, true crime documentaries playing in the background. He made a few comments about you needing to get to your chores, but you suspected it was mostly out of principle, since every time you attempted to get up, he pulled you back to him. This caused you to relax even more, enjoying Marshall’s presence, happily indulging his need for proximity. However, you couldn’t help but gently tease him. « You’re unusually clingy, Sir » you playfully remarked. « You’re complaining about that, now? » he asked, rolling his eyes. « I’m just thinking it’s time you admitted you can’t get enough of me » you giggled. « Yeah, you wish » he mumbled with a false exasperation, though you could feel him tighten his embrace around you.

By Sunday morning, the playful mood was in full swing, and you shared some witty banter while you prepared breakfast. Marshall was leaning against the kitchen counter, nibbling on a slice of toast while you were flipping pancakes in a sheer nightdress that left nothing to the imagination. He was staring at you, shamelessly admiring your body, which he had leisurely mistreated the night before, leaving a whole new set of bruises and hickies all over it.

« I see you staring, Sir » you hummed teasingly. « Has no one ever told you it’s rude? ». He shook his head and took a few steps, standing behind you, as he placed a hand on your hips. « I can stare all I want. Because you’re mine » he reminded you in a low voice. « Also, you might want to think twice before trying to call me out on my manners. Don’t forget your place, sweetheart ». The smirk on his face made it impossible for you to resist. You just had to keep teasing him. « If you don’t want me to call you out on your manners, maybe you should start by having some… Marshall ». You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew for a fact that the deliberate use of his name was testing the limits. Unfortunately, you were unable to turn the « chaotic mode » off. And, deep down, you wanted to blame your dom. After all, he was the one who hadn’t enforced the usual structure. It was on him, really… However, the way he raised his eyebrow made it clear that he would not agree with your analysis of the situation. « Uh-huh » he said as he reached for your arm and forced you to turn around and face him. « You want to rethink that, Y/N? ». You shook your head, feigning bravery, though the sparkle in your eyes betrayed your amusement. «Nope. You’re not that scary. » you giggled.

Annoying him had been one of your favorite activities for years and, clearly, when you started, you couldn’t stop until he made you. And by judging on the look in his eyes, he was planning on it. The grin on his face grew wider as he straightened up, unfastening his belt with deliberate slowness. The soft clink of the buckle made you freeze, your gaze flicking from his hands to his face, where he wore an expression of playful authority. You stared into his eyes, biting your lip. You weren’t planning on him having his way with you, pretty sure that he’d opt for some punishment, but you were not going to complain. « Shall we go upstairs? » you asked in a tone that wavered between defiance and anticipation. « Or are we doing this here? ». He shook his head and reached for the buttons, turning off the stove. Clearly, the pancakes would have to wait. « Turn around » he ordered, his voice low and teasing. You did as you were told, arching your back so that he could appreciate the view of your bare ass under the see-through nightdress. You heard him. Pull the belt free from his jeans and understood just how mistaken you had been. He was indeed planning on punishing you.

It had been a while since you had been disciplined but maybe it was what you needed. He got closer to you, trapping you between the counter and himself. You could feel his chest against your back, the weight of his presence making an impression on you. He grabbed one of your arms, then the other, and you felt the cool leather of the belt slide over your wrists. In a couple of movements, he tugged so that you’d move where he wanted you to, and looped the belt through the nearest drawer handle, your wrists gently but firmly secured in place. « There, » he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. « Now maybe you’ll think twice about slacking off and calling me by my name when I’ve clearly earned better. »

Any other day, it would have been enough for you to back down. Not this time though. A flicker of mischief appeared in your eyes. « Right. Sorry. I should have used your title… My apologies…Dumbass ». He raised a hand to your face and cupped your jaw, holding it firmly. « My title, Y/N » he ordered. « Fine » you whispered, and he let go of your face. « Dr Dumbass ». You could see the exasperation on his face, mixed with playfulness. You had never been this bratty before. Before you knew it, he was grabbing your throat, gently squeezing. « You really are a little bitch, this morning » he commented. « Thankfully, you made just enough pancakes. So I’ll eat while you think about your actions, pet ».

Without another words, he helped himself to a plate of pancakes and went to eat at the table, while you were still restrained, attached to a drawer. You looked at him in disbelief. « Wait… really? » you mumbled, to which he replied with a smirk. « Look, I get it : you clearly don’t like when I’m nicer » he shrugged. « So now, be a good girl and let me eat in peace, will you? ». The amusement on his face was visible and you arched an eyebrow. If he thought restraining you would make you less of a nuisance, clearly, he didn’t know you. You moved your wrists a little, just enough for the drawer to make an annoying noise. You could see him roll his eyes, but not waiver. « You’re cute. But it’s not working, pet » he chuckled. « And the longer you keep this going, the longer you’ll stay like this » he warned. He went on to enjoy a few more bites of pancakes, unbothered by the clinking and chattering of the drawer, before getting up to make coffee. « Might want to be careful there, Sir » you hummed innocently with a hint of amusement. « Why? » he asked with a raised eyebrow. « Because that’s an awfully hot coffee pot » you chortled with a nuisant smirk.

He let out a loud sigh and crossed his arms, but you could see a faint smirk on his face. « You never stop, don’t you? » he asked as he gently shook his head. You giggled and shook yours in turn. « You know you like it » you teased. « You know you like me ». He took a step towards you and cupped your face. « Yeah, pet. I do like you. Please don’t forget it » he hummed. Before you knew it, he was grabbing a roll of gaffer tape from a drawer and cutting a piece, before slapping it on your mouth, muzzling you. You stared at him in shock, though your eyes betrayed your amusement. « Since you can’t use your safe word or safe move, if you want to stop, you hum three times, understood? » he directed, to which you nodded.

If the past few months had taught you anything, it was that when he gave these kind of instructions, there was no coming back. You could feel the tension between the two of you, his eyes slightly darkening. « Now that we shut up that mouth of yours, I think I should get to the next step and give you what you deserve for running it » he said sternly. He cupped your face and stared at you with a grin before turning to grab a spatula. « You’re lucky I’m taking a clean one and not the one you used for the pancakes » he hummed, before forcing you to turn around. You didn’t think much of his choice, highly doubting that a spatula would inflict much pain. Rookie mistake, apparently. Yours arms were a little contorted as he turned you around and pushed the nightdress up to reveal your bare ass, before inflicting the first blow. You couldn’t help but gasp - which, due to the tape on your mouth, translated into some sort of whine. Your dom gently shushed you, reminding you of who was in charge. «That’s fine, doll. You need a little reminder of your place. And I’m going to Gove it to you ». You let out a sound, half-hum, half-wine that betrayed both your approval and anticipation. You were at his mercy, your harms contorted in an unlikely and, frankly, uncomfortable position that only added to the feeling of surrender. For what seemed like an eternity, your dom reminded you of who was in charge, smacking the brattiness out of you, hard enough for the sting to be replaced by a sensation of numbness. « Still want to make fun of me, pet ? » he whispered in your ear, to which you replied by shaking your head. « Good girl » he praised in that low voice of his, that had you feeling like putty in his hand. He gently cupped your face and brushed the tears that had rolled on your cheeks with his thumb. He knew they weren’t tears of pain, just proof of the emotional release caused by the blows he had inflicted.

Marshall leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your forehead. « Guess you needed that, huh ? » he asked softly. You nodded vigorously and you could see his eyebrows knitting. « More ? » he asked carefully. You froze for a second, pondering the implications. Did you need more ? Did you want it ? You stared into his eyes and slowly nodded. « Okay » he almost whispered, before examining your ass cheeks. He carefully ran the palm of his hand over them and you immediately winced at the contact. Clearly, you couldn’t handle more of that impact play - and you knew you were in for a rough next couple of days. When Marshall faced you again, he looked almost apologetic for a second, before stepping closer and wrapping his large hand around your neck, not squeezing yet. His baby blue eyes stared into yours, waiting for you to consent. When you finally nodded, he allowed himself to slowly squeeze, positioning himself so that he could choke you from behind. Your ass was burning, your contorted arms were hurting, and breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, the airflow already being limited by the gaffer tape over your mouth. You had no choice but to fully surrender to him, and it brought you a feeling of peace absolutely unmatched. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation of him behind you, one hand on your throat, the other on your hip, firmly maintaining you in place. « You done being a bitch, now ? » he growled in your ear. His tone had you melting, and it clearly didn’t do anything to solve the mess you were making in your panties. You let out a desperate whine that betrayed your challenged breathing but, before he could do anything, you heard an all too familiar voice. « Marshall ? ».

You froze and so did he. But before he could move and free you of your restraints, you were faced with his brother, who had clearly let himself in, as you knew he often did when he came over. Nate seemed absolutely terrified, a look of horror plastered on his face. « What the fuck ?! ».

#eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #eminem imagine #eminem smut

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metallicabirder · 3 months ago

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Okay I've been thinking on it for about a week now and I think that Sunrise on the Reaping did a lot to illuminate the role of cages (both physical and mental) in the series.

In tbosas, the tributes are transported to the Capitol in cattle cars and then kept in the zoo until the games. They are kept shackled and caged for the entire process, from the reaping to the zoo to the arena and then home, for Lucy Gray. Despite this, if Snow hadn't gone to District 12, we can assume that Lucy Gray and the Covey would have been mostly free to continue on as they had. The games, for all their trauma, would have ended with her exit from the arena. The cage is only present, for her, when Snow shows up in 12 and has expectations for their relationship, for how she should be or act. He expects his songbird to be content in her cage, but it isn't enforced because that system hasn't yet been constructed.

In Sunrise on the Reaping, the literal cages have decreased but we've seen their presence continued into the aftermath of the games. The tributes are transported in normal train cars and fed. They're given apartments and fed and clothed. Instead of a physical cage, we see Haymitch woven into a mental cage of how he should act, what he should say. He isn't constrained by an enclosure, but instead by the consequences of what he says and does. The cage only solidifies when he wins his games. Snow places him in a literal birdcage, traps him like he wanted to with his District 12 songbird. On his return to District 12, Haymitch sees Snow snap the doors shut, sees that the consequences are playing out. The metaphorical cage is complete and keeps him boxed, not docile but semi-compliant, for 24 years. This connects to the theme of 'why would the many comply to the will of the few.' They comply because, in the time since the 10th games, the cages have been snapped into place in the districts. Mags, Beetee, Wiress, Haymitch- all of them show that victors were not safe, that they can be punished. Drusilla implies that the prostitution of desirable victors had already begun by the 50th games. Rules are stricter, propaganda more overt, songs forbidden. We see this with Effie, as well. They're far enough removed from the war that young people don't have the same anger at the rebels- they never saw the rebellion so why would they? But they still buy into the propaganda, the narrative, that the Capitol spins. It lets the Capitol keep the districts in the box of 'other', paint them as something less worthy, less human than the Capitol.

Which brings me to my final point, by the time we hit the trilogy, the cages are almost entirely mental. Tributes are given every luxury, victors showered in gifts and wealth, but the threat hangs over the districts all the time. We even see it in District 12 during Catching Fire, Katniss wonders if 12 could rebel like 11 and the other districts but fears that people would just close their doors and windows, that there wouldn't be enough buy-in from their already small district. Instead of a literal birdcage, Katniss gets trapped in a cage of Snow's design where she has to comply or everyone she loves will pay for her actions. When she sees Coin start to construct the base of a similar cage, this time for Capitol citizens, that's when she realizes Coin cannot be left in power. Which leads to the final point of the series, chronologically: the many stop complying with the few when they can look beyond what they've been told. When they recognize the cage they're in and work together to deconstruct it.

#thg #the hunger games #sunrise on the reaping #sotr #sotr spoilers #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #cages as a metaphor for social systems my beloved #i have so many thoughts about sotr and what it implies for the rest of the series #feel kinda crazy #the bird speaks

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dollsorwhatever · 3 months ago

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Wig (but long this time)

After my last customized wig failed to be long enough to work for my SD Mika, and after looking everywhere for super long synthetic mohair (doll grade kanekalon) wefts or even just a wig that I could extract wefts from and attach to my base wig, I realized that if I wanted super long hair, I would have to buy loose doll grade kanekalon and make the wefts myself with a sewing machine- a fact I had been dreading because I have never used a sewing machine in my life lol After a crash course on learning to use a sewing machine and watching a few tutorials, I went from this to this after a few tries:

What you don't see between these examples is the hour of near crying as I struggled to fold the hair in half to do the final stitches without it becoming a huge mess, until I found an extremely helpful tutorial that utilized a manila folder and a flat iron to fold and flatten the weft, something so obvious that I felt incredibly stupid for not having thought of it before then lol

Once I felt confident in my skills (and after more hair arrived because I stupidly used a bunch of it on my first attempts instead of using practice hair), I ended up making around 10-11 usable wefts in total from about five ounces of hair:

The color is a blend; the primary shade (This shade from Studiodollhair) is an exact match to the hair on the base wig I was using, and the secondary shade (from Dollyhair) is slightly paler and significantly longer.

I shuffled each hank separately to provide a nice tapered end (thanks to this tutorial by the same account as the wefting tutorial), and then combined them into two separate blends of slightly different color ratios to provide dimension, as well as a highly tapered layering to look like natural hair. My initial plan for this wig was about ankle length on my SD Mika (inspired by photos of women with super long hair in the 1800's) but eventually I chose to go as long as I feasibly could because why not lol Once I had my wefts finished, I stripped the base wig of 99% of its original hair (with the exception of the original hand tied parting and one weft at the base of the neck-again, for layering purposes) and stitched them on, mimicking the original layout of the wig, and then layered the remaining original hair to blend into the new wefts:

(Barbie for scale lol)

Very happy with it! By my estimation this wig is around 28", meaning it trails approximately 5" behind Mika when she's standing. I still need to wash and flat iron it (as well as clean, restring and dress Mika herself) but this project has been keeping me up at night for weeks so I am very happy to see it completed mostly, and I'm happy it motivated me to start learning to use a sewing machine! I look forward to playing with it more and dipping my toes into making doll clothes. A few years ago I would have abandoned this project out of fear, so I'm happy I saw it through to the end.

#doll #doll hair #doll wig #wig making #sewing #bjd #abjd #super long hair #ball jointed doll #super dollfie

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rc-catalog · 3 months ago

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At long last, we finally commence the Creator of the Month event! Without further ado, we present to you a short interview with @webanglikethat, March COTM winner, from which you can get to know her better. Congratulations JB!

Enjoy!

INTRODUCE YOURSELF

hi everyone!! I’m really exicited to be the first creator to be represented 🥺 you may call me JB and I’m 19 years old! I go by she/him pronouns and I’m a desi italian 🫶🏽

WHEN DID YOU JOIN ROMANCE CLUB?

2022-11-04, which I could’ve never guessed! I thought I’d started playing mid 2023. according to my gallery, my first stories were chasing you and heaven’s secret! the fandom I joined way later, and that’s how I never understood why sometimes my choices were ‘free’ aka Diamond Rush – I thought I bypassed something 😭 seeing the reddit fandom explained a lot haha !

HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN CREATING?

for the RC fandom specifically, I started creating in May 2024 when I made a Ram edit! before that, I was mostly posting about RC on my Instagram stories and editing them, sharing my thoughts, and occasionally ranting about the characters. I actually had another Tumblr account before this one, but it was focused on different fandoms. at some point, I stumbled across the RC Tumblr community, and at first, I just lurked, reading posts and getting a feel for the fandom. I loved seeing everyone’s discussions, edits, and writing, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to jump in just yet. eventually, though, I decided I wanted to be part of it, so I made this account for two reasons: first, to fully immerse myself back into Tumblr (aka I forgot the password to the OG account lmao / but I did remember it!), and second, to actually engage with the RC fandom rather than just observing from the sidelines.

in general, probably since I was 11-12 for the kpop fandom, which I’m still actively doing !! my passion for creating just keeps evolving and it’s crazy how the things I started with have led me to where I am now !! I’m always pushing myself to try new things and level up my skills and the way I express myself has definitely evolved over the years. I started off with small edits, and random posts, and over time, I got more confident in sharing my work. I’ve written a bunch of poems, edited a lot of stories/videos and I’ve picked up moodboards and graphic design again! the RC fandom has been such a fun and welcoming space, and I love being able to contribute to it (✿◠‿◠)

DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR FIRST EVER CREATION?

for the rc fandom? it was a ram video edit (insert link) but if we are saying in general, it was probably one of those kpop profile pictures with heart crowns lmao! I was 11 or 12, experimenting with filters and thinking I was so cool — looking back at it now, it’s cringy, but it was the start of everything. and who says cringe can’t be good? normalize being cringe !! normalize growth !! those little edits sparked something that I’ve carried with me ever since! after that, I started making moodboard edits for kpop artists and umh, here I shall expose myself just for you guys lmaoo. these are the first few “'edits”’ I found from my archived posts (no, I never finished teen wolf …) (yes, I still make seunghyun content).

CHOOSE 3-5 OF YOUR FAVOURITE WORKS AND RAMBLE AWAY!

there’s a lot of creations that I’m thinking of! one of the hardest was probably the two part web weave I made of cainlane for a friend at the time, but it’s definitely not my fave

my jayniecarter web weave is a really important creation for me. I don’t remember exactly when I got the idea, but even within the first five episodes of 7B, Jaynie’s storyline hit me hard; her role as the oldest and only daughter that everyone relied on and how everyone just expected her to push away all of her plans to be there to fix the problems caused by everyone else. there was something so raw and so real about her struggles and the way she carried so much weight on her shoulders, often without acknowledgment that it made me really pause. it was supposed to be a funny little story but it turned into so much more. I found myself deeply relating to her — her imposter syndrome, her sense of responsibility, and that feeling of being stretched too thin while trying to be everything for everyone. some chapters were genuinely difficult to read because they felt so personal, almost like I was looking into a mirror. at first, I wasn’t sure how to process those feelings. it’s one thing to read something that resonates with you, but another to actually put those emotions into words. that’s when I started thinking about the best way to express it, and I landed on making a web weave. I’ve always loved the way web weaves allow for layered storytelling — how they can bring together different pieces of media, emotions, and themes into something cohesive. it felt like the perfect medium to explore Jaynie’s journey, not just as a character, but as an experience that so many people can relate to. I started by gathering all my screenshots — Carter scenes, moments where Jaynie’s imposter syndrome was on full display, her struggling with the expectations placed on her, and the way she felt like her first year of college wasn’t turning out the way it was “supposed” to and that the experience had been robbed from her. from there, I began thinking about songs and other pieces of media that resonated with those emotions. I wanted to find lyrics that captured that overwhelming pressure of being the person others depend on, that deep-rooted insecurity of feeling like you’re never quite doing enough, even when you are. the process was honestly a mix of research and instinct—some songs immediately came to mind because they just fit, while others took time to find. I also pulled quotes from books, movies, and shows that carried similar themes of responsibility, burnout, and the complicated emotions that come with being an eldest daughter. one of the best song to describe Jaynie and Carter imo is ESOEMOEHOED by Leanna Firestone, so that was the first thing I did, along with 'this is me trying’ by Taylor Swift. some of the photos included are actually taken by me! there is a quote by a book I really like, 'Final Offer’ that made it into the final draft “You always deserved better than me.” / “No. I deserved better from you.” aside from the angst, I also wanted to portray the amazing love a sister has for her brother, so I looked through my pinterest board and found comments people, mostly sisters, left on how they loved their siblings, how they felt like they didn’t exist until they arrived. while Jaynie and Carter’s journey is undoubtedly hard and complex, that doesn’t erase the love, and that was something I wanted to make sure wasn’t lost. one little detail I really liked was, when choosing Hansel and Gretel photos, they were always holding hands! and isn’t that siblinghood? holding hands through all of the shit the world puts you through? the certainty of that warm hold? honestly, putting the web weave together was both fun and unexpectedly emotional. it was therapeutic in a way I didn’t expect and I’m glad it also resonated with the ones who saw it!

My Nova and religious guilty web weave: this one was something I planned almost from the start! I started playing wt:c for my friend andy’s birthday so she could finally talk to me about it. the obvious religious guilt / religious trauma topic stood out to me and I began gathering screenshots as I played. as a girlie who can relate to those kinds of feeling, I was sooo excited to edit this !! from the start, I knew I wanted to turn this into a web weave. I started reading articles, researching people’s thoughts on reddit / quora / any website of that sort, trying to gather their feelings. one of the best sources was an article that began with

'Let me ask you this — have you ever felt like faith was supposed to be a comfort, but instead, it turned into a burden?’,

written by Gary L Ellis. I read that and thought, damn I struck the goldmine! I’m heading in the right direction! honestly, this one was easier to edit because I already had a lot of photos of this topic saved from my previous luke castellan web weaves and some genshin screenshots (the wanderer’s iconic line of 'the first to betray me was a god, my creator … my mother’). it was also easier because I had been gathering screenshots as I played instead of thinking about it later. that saved a lot of time. another line that really fit perfectly was

“I was raised Catholic,” he began. “But you’re not now?” the judge asked, frowning. “No,” he said. He had worked for years to keep the apology out of his voice when he said this.”

and that made me even more excited because everything was fitting together so well !! another obvious source was going to be, 'Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve’ by Taylor Swift, a song about grooming and religious guilt which ugh, Nova would SOOO relate to. overall, I believe this took me less than a week to edit! maybe 3-4 days? I was so excited that I stayed up late editing, and I’m honestly really proud of it. I’d love to make a part two in the future!

my jaynie-ray web weave: it’s been a long time coming – is how I would describe this one. I made it for the catalog’s 14 days of love event and I knew I wanted to choose these two for the platonic prompt. their relationship is so important to me 🥺 their bond is not just a promise of 'I’ll be there’, it’s a certainty. it’s something so much deeper, that it’s impossible to unravel. my main source for this one was my favourite book, 'Happy Place’ by none other than my mother Emily Henry! if you like crying and found family, give it a read ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧ what really stuck with me, while reading about Ray, was the way Ray’s story doesn’t just expose the pain of being kicked out but also highlights the power of acceptance!! I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. so many stories about queer trauma focus solely on the suffering, and while that’s important, 7B goes beyond that. it doesn’t just show the pain of rejection but it shows the love that comes after. the way Ray finds a new family, a new support system, people who actually love and accept them, is so important. because yes, being rejected by your family is devastating. but what makes it bearable is finding the people who choose you. I wanted to make their relationship justice and hopefully I did <3 I once again used photos I took myself (the quote from the seven husbands of evelyn hugo) and honestly, this one was so easy because I can relate to their friendship as I’ve found it in my best friend Kelly, and I already have like hundreds of photos/quotes/media pieces saved on friendship and found family! honestly teared up a few times making this.

my audrey-deviya web weave: I could not answer this interview without mentioning my wife deviya, could I? this one is recent, so you’d think I remember how or why I made this but honestly, my memory is really bad! I think I screenshotted a few things while playing the old abh update and I was like, wait, that’s sacrificial lamb coded! and who is THE original one? deviya. I knew in that moment I wanted to connect their journeys, to depict their roles as both a weapon and a shield, as a human but also a tool. there were many similarities. – one of the most painful ones was I noticed how both of them die/almost die feeling like they hadn’t lived enough. there’s this lingering sense of unfinishedness, this deep grief over the life they weren’t allowed to have. it’s heartbreaking. their stories reinforce the idea that their blood is almost worth more than their existence, that they need to bleed in order to be important. this was a little harder to edit because I had to go through abh walkthroughs on youtube because I had never screenshotted her dialogues from this point of view! my friend vee was kind enough to send me a few screenshots she had, which saved me so much time !! and they were SO helpful too, I could build a whole edit out of them alone. aside from gathering screenshots, I had no issues because sacrificial lamb is part of yet another pinterest board I have. I hope I did Audrey justice! I’m not an ABH girlie, my focus is on KFS, so hopefully I got her character well !!

now that I mentioned sacrifice and blood, I HAVE to talk about Amala. so I have two versions of my Amala web weave; purple and red. this one I made because I was joking in a discord server about how I was going to make a web weave if my friend Mira (@a-cloud-for-dreams) wasn’t gonna stop sending sad Amala screenshots. we were all joking around until I was like, well … eldest daughter angst? and every other desi girlie in the discord server was like WELL YES ! so I immediately started editing cause when you get a bunch of girls asking you to do something, you do it (follow for more life advices).

I felt a lot of pressure making this one because it had been a while since I played KCD and I had never closely looked at Amala’s character. Mira was able to give me 99% of the screenshots included in my post and, while I struggled with Amala’s character, I didn’t struggle with her characterization – does that make sense? she’s the eldest daughter who takes care of everyone, who puts her own needs aside and is struggling between her indian and english side (something that sooo many immigrant children, me included, can relate to). from there, it was easy to gather photos because again, I have a bunch of pinterest boards on topic of being the older sister, the third parent and the immigrant guilt! I had the most fun editing the last photo !!!

I’m very shy about my writing so I purposefully decided to highlight my webweaves 😭 but here are some of my fanfictions: -> if you wanted avery to be a love interest, I got a fic for you ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧ The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury is one of my proudest works. it was hard to get Avery’s voice right because he has very little screentime (I screenshotted every scene in which he spoke) and at some point I gave up, so if you find it OOC just close your eyes lmaoo. -> did you want Vyxaria to talk to Walter about Xantheia? do you cry to peace by taylor swift? don’t look further then! Lonely winter, cradle my heart explores angsty Vyxaria -> do you instead want to break your heart by having unrequited!Walter and brokenhearted!Vyxaria x Xantheia? Thalassophile, do you remember our crestfallen hearts? awaits you ! for more, look at my masterlist!

#romance club #rc catalog event #rc catalog cotm #creator of the month

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ganondoodle · 10 months ago

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since i have seen this argument pop up again and again and now its used to defend the minecraft movie

i really hate the argument that something, be it a movie or a game, can be as shitty as it wants when its primarily aimed at kids (or people THINK it is aimed mostly at kids) bc its 'just for kids'

like children are lesser an stupid? like they arent incredibly impressionable and deserve good movies? im not saying they should only watch critical acclaimed drama movies, but you can make a movie 'for kids' AND make it good, its been done before, sure there will always be shit movies, and thats fine, but dismissing any kind of criticism towards them bc "its just for kids" feels so unecessarily mean spirited towards children, like they are little people in wildly different stages of development!! they can think too!!

'kids' itself is such a wide range that i feel its not very useful as a category anyway, a 5 year old isnt the same as an 11 year old, both of them should get good things, and both can watch or play things they may not completely understand yet! i grew up with shrek, and while a big parody and haha fart humor movie, they (1+2) have an incredibly strong core, i didnt udnerstand them fully when i was little, so what? i still enjoyed them, i felt more connected to them than any disney movie (bc hey .. the monster is the main guy and no they dont all turn into conventionally pretty humans as the ultimate reward- i felt othered throughout my life too) and i still do, theres jokes and themes and meaning i understood fully only when i was rewatching them as an adult, i still enjoy them even at 27

and like, shouldnt it ESPECIALLY matter what children watch? (not in the puritan brain worm way) bc they are ... people in development?? do you think if they just sit down and watch shitty movies and play games that dont challenge them at all, be it thinking critically or emotionally, all day it wont have an affect on them??

(im sorry to bring up totk again, but that 'its for kids' argument has been used to defend it so much too, and its so incredibly annoying to me, ah yes, its puzzles are all skippable or easy as shit bc its main target are kids and children are stupid and shouldnt be challenged ever, the story is a simple fairytale type deal maybe to you, but contains alot of harmful stereotypes that have led to real world harm and its repeated unquestionably while offering nothing intersting to think or engage with, theres a reason alot of childrens media contains alot of stereotypes to propaganda even but its just for kids of course its not propaganda bc kids are stupid and cant understand that lol BECAUSE they are so impressionable, if a series 'for kids' only lets the girls be in frilly pink dresses and do 'girly' stuff do you not think that wil affect how they think about themselves??

if they keep seeing the light skinned blonde heroe stab the unquestioned evil arab stereotype bc he wants to take over your holy land bc hes just 'evil' and is never ever humanized in any way and only presented as a monster, while the good little maiden princess does everything she can to support her hero in shiny armor with big sad doe eyes and pretty little white dress- do you not think it will affect them? if it were an isolated incidence perhaps not much, but its a stereotype perpetuated to such a degree that you think its just 'how fairytales go'? yeah, you have been influenced by these portrayals, they are working as intented- and if they are used as such in media without the writer intending to influence you that way? thats even worse bc it means it has been so normalized to think that way people dont even realize it- while alot of real people in the world are ganondorf, they are demonized and dehumanized, others think of them as inherently evil.. but its just a "simple fairytale"

yes i know children can also question things on their own, but you shouldnt assume that comes naturally and then also in just the correct way, i questioned why i was just doing whatever the talking boat told me to do when i first played windwaker as a kid, but more bc i liked how ganondorf looked and hated being told things to do without a good reason being given (autism much?), 'evil' didnt do it for me, but that doesnt mean i knew he was an evil arab stereotype, i didnt like tetra turning white as zelda, bc i thought she looked cooler before and i didnt like 'girly' things myself, not bc i knew it was whitewashing

-not saying media should be free of anything 'problematic', the problem is how its presented and never questioned or engaged with critically and then that stupid argument being used to dismiss it like children are both unable to think and not influencable somehow-)

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #minecraft movie #i know i went on a sorta rant there again #i just saw epic tm dunk posts about people criticising the minecraft movie #and you know i have opinions #man i can never shut up #.. anyway im gonna go and repot my plants

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nhl-stories · 6 months ago

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i'm not sure that you want me – Kent Johnson

Summary: Kent's confused. About nothing. About everything. Mostly, he just wants someone to give him the answers.

Author’s Note: Someone sent in a request that just said Kent Johnson. Gender. I didn't really know him before but somehow his weirdly, pretty bug face broke me out of my writing rut. So thanks anon, I feel like i could have explored so much more but had to rein myself in

Word Count: 6.8k

You still live in Columbus right?

Kent gets the text after a particularly grueling rehab session, he’s out to lunch with the boys and a little tempted to order a drink to take off the edge off the day, even if it’s only 11 AM.

A second text buzzes in before he can answer.

I could google but thought I’d get it straight from the source

It had been a while since they texted each other, the last text telling him to get well soon in February. Not that they ever really communicated a ton. It was mostly when either saw something that reminded them of the other.

Like seeing one of Kent’s old teammates at a basement party doing something stupid.

Yeah, trying to come visit?

They hadn’t actually seen each other in person in a year or so. When he went back to school to get his ring, and that was only a brief hello when he had a million other obligations.

Trying to move just got accepted into OSU law school, it would be nice to have a familiar face

Kent doesn’t know how to respond right away. With the injury he feels a little more lost about his future. Not playing the last months of the season makes it harder for him to get traded, and he’s pretty sure the new contract in the works with Columbus will work out. But he really doesn’t know.

Wow congrats, lmk if you need anything I probably won’t be much help though

He doesn’t want to make any promises.

You’re saying my friend who is strong enough to move my furniture and rich enough to get me a nice meal after can’t help? What a ripoff 🙄

Kent can’t help but smile, unfortunately that gives Silly a chance to pounce.

“Who’s got KJ all smiley at his phone?”

The season has been a grind for everyone, not just Kent who’s had to helplessly watch from the sidelines for so long. They take their laughter when they can get it, Kent just made himself an easy target.

Adam peers over his shoulder, “You texting yourself? Getting that desperate?”

“It’s a different KJ,” he deadpans while he feels his face warm, “a friend from college.”

“Is this ‘friend,’” Silly obnoxiously uses air quotes, “hot?”

Kent rolls his eyes and throws a balled-up napkin at him. Slips his phone in his pocket to respond to later.

++++

KJ had lived in Columbus for almost five months before meeting up with Kent. In part because of the off season, but they had a hard time locking down plans. First a coffee meetup that fell through, then lunch, then she excitedly suggested they get drinks since they were both actually legal now.

KJ said they would be in the park after work and they could walk to a place. He found her reading on a bench. If he hadn’t followed her location pin, he wouldn’t have been sure it was them.

He had checked her Instagram before he left to see a more recent picture than what he had in his head. They don’t post a lot, even less of pictures of them, mostly books, plants, or friends. The last picture is a blurry picture of people dancing on a table, he couldn’t even pick out KJ if he tried.

Her hair was much longer than the last time he saw them, it had been shorter than his and dyed a blue that was so dark it was almost black. Now, it was mostly a light purple, except the blonde roots. Kent wasn’t sure if she was a natural blonde. Can’t recall what shade her shaved head was when they first met.

That was when their Women, Gender, and Sexuality professor paired ‘Katrina Johnson’ and ‘Kent Johnson’ for the first project of the year and as she slid into the chair next to him, said ‘you better not be one of those dumb jocks who drops this class before we finish the project.’ Kent didn’t even try to joke about how he took this class because he heard it was easy and could tell his teammates he had to leave to study women.

And that’s how boy KJ met girl KJ, which they would amend months later: ‘I’m really more of the girl-ish KJ, emphasis on -ish.’

KJ doesn’t notice him walking up so he takes a seat beside her before saying anything.

She jumps a little before a smile breaks through, “holy shit I forgot how low your voice is.”

KJ shoves the book into their backpack, the same beat up maroon JanSport he remembers from college. She reaches over and Kent thinks she’s going in for a hug, but stops turning when they touch the ends of his hair.

“And your hair is so short! People won’t confuse us for a cute lesbian couple anymore,” she pouts.

Kent rolls his eyes but can feel the upward quirk of his lip, “Shut up.”

“What? I liked when my friends would ask me about the cute, butch girl they saw me walking around campus with. It was good for my rep.”

Their smile doesn’t wane, “I’m glad we could finally meet up.”

Then she moves in for the hug, it’s a bit of an awkward angle while they’re still sitting. But they squeezes him tight, makes him think about the last time someone really hugged him. Probably his mom, before he flew back to Columbus.

They walk to a bar nearby, KJ asks Kent about his summer, training camp, how his shoulder feels. When they get to the bar, they both get carded; she elbows him excitedly like they’re getting away with something.

He finds out they’re deferring law school for a year, hoping to get some more savings for food and rent before getting more student debt. Currently, she’s part-time clerking at the ACLU and some other law firm that pays better but they seem iffy about the work they do. Then volunteering at a queer community center closer to her apartment and campus.

Kent worried that once they caught up on life basics it would be awkward, they got along pretty well at school, but they didn’t actually have that much in common.

Before meeting KJ, Kent hadn’t even spent a lot of time with women who weren’t interested in him, for hockey or romantically or a combo of both. It had been a nice change of pace when KJ came into his life, but that didn’t mean it would work outside the limbo of college life.

But the awkward moment never comes.

They keep talking until KJ looks at their phone.

“Shit, we’ve been here for like 2 hours. You probably have other things to do.”

“Not really, do you want to get dinner?”

Kent takes them to one of his favorite restaurants, it’s another two hours before they wrap up the evening. Kent’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

KJ gives him directions to her apartment; he pulls up into front of brick building, it’s easy to tell how close they are to the college now. When he turns after putting it in park he sees KJ staring at him, looking up at him while she leans on the console.

“KJ?” They bat their eyelashes.

“Yes, KJ?” His throat feels dry.

“Are you going to invite me to a hockey game?”

He can’t stop the snorting laugh that comes out.

“Um, yeah.”

She raises a brow like she’s expecting more.

“Do you want to come to a hockey game?”

“I’d love to! You probably don’t know your schedule off the top of your head so just tell me when you know some dates.”

“Cool, have good night.”

KJ leans further in for a hug, whispers against his ear, “I’m so happy we get to hang out again.”

They pull away and ruffle his short hair again, then kisses his forehead before he can even process what’s happening. He watches them walk up the drive and disappear through the door.

++++

She told him he was pretty once. Honestly, probably more than once, but the first time is what he really remembers.

Kent doesn’t know why that’s the memory that’s pinging around his head while he’s taping his stick.

Going over to KJ’s to off-campus apartment to work on their assignment, she had answered the door in a silk robe before leading him into the living room where her notes were spread out on the coffee table. She sat cross legged on the couch facing him, flashing her underwear that he would have described as a ‘laundry day’ pair.

KJ started talking about what readings they could cite, like there wasn’t a borderline stranger in her house while she was half naked, like she had never felt self-conscious in her entire life. He had never met a girl like that before.

“I know I don’t look it, but I like sports,” she’s painting her toenails while trying to make a point about how masculinity hurts men too, “how do you think I knew you were a student athlete? You don’t exactly look like a typical jock.”

Kent widened his eyes at that, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know,” she grabs his ankle and moves his foot closer to her, he has a hole in the big toe of his sock, she slathers a layer of purple glitter polish on the exposed nail.

She looks up when she’s done, “You’re really pretty for a guy.”

He wasn’t sure how to react, he didn’t get a chance because one of her roommates came in.

“Whoa Cage brought home a boy,” the new girl fist pumped with a wicked grin.

Then she’s crawling into KJ’s space, kissing her on the mouth, slipping a hand under the opening of her robe and groping her chest. KJ smiled into the kiss, Kent felt a vague, lecherous swooping in his stomach, he felt a bit like a pervert for not looking away. But really, he wasn’t sure if wanted to be KJ or the roommate.

He shakes the thought out of his head, he has a game to focus on.

The game starts out well enough, despite the time apart, playing Owen is still weird. Maybe extra weird since his head seems to be stuck in Michigan today. But he gets an assist on the first goal, and his head snaps back into focus.

And then as quick as it comes together, it falls apart.

When he falls, he immediately knows something is wrong, a sinking feeling of déjà vu. Surgery, rehab, months away from hockey; it’s a dizzying thought and he forces himself off the ice and down the tunnel before it becomes overwhelming.

The trainers gingerly take him out of his top gear, give him a fairly thorough look over to determine he’s definitely out for the game. He’s poked and prodded while he watches the teams trade goals. The useless feeling from last season starts to rear its ugly head.

The second period ends and so does the exam. He’s not going back in tonight, how long he’ll be out to be determined later. For now, he can take some pain meds and the rest of his gear off.

The guys are in the locker room when he starts to undress, he gets a few pats on the knee, most of the guys try not to give him that ‘sucks you’re injured’ sympathetic smile, but a couple slip through. A knee jerk reaction.

His phone is buzzing incessantly in his locker, like an annoying bug in his ears. Once he’s down to his base layers, he just soaks in being around the guys as they hype each other up for the last push. The sour feeling in his belly makes him worry he won’t get this any time soon.

Once the guys are back on the ice, he pulls out his phone. A text from his mom, some of the Michigan guys all hoping he’s okay.

The last one’s from KJ: That looked nasty, let me know if you’re still up to meet up afterwards, no pressure

He had gotten her a pass that would let her down to the family room, and he doesn’t want the night to be a total bust for her. He gives her directions on how to get downstairs before taking a shower, hoping to wash away some of this awful feeling.

The Blue Jackets win, which feels like a consolation prize for his shitty night. That and he’s given a free pass to skip any media obligations, since his injury is still of an uncertain severity. No one even seems to care that he leaves without changing back into his game day suit.

He turns the corner towards the family room and sees KJ talking to a group of WAGs. They’re having an animated conversation like they’re all longtime friends. KJ looks up and sees him, quickly saying bye before she comes running over, their high ponytail swinging until they pull up short on Kent.

“I was gonna hug you, but that’s probably a bad idea,” They hold out a fist to bump instead.

“It probably doesn’t mean much since I’m clearly bad luck, but I had a lot of fun.”

“Injuries happen, not your fault. Besides you saw me at school all the time and I never got injured there.”

“Excellent point, we’ll have to do further research when you’re better,” she grins up at him and he can’t help but smile back at her.

“Yeah, and you made some friends,” he nods towards the girlfriends who are still talking, maybe shooting subtle glances their way.

“Oh yeah, they just saw me awkwardly standing around and asked who I knew. Said we’re friends from college and as you can see, I’m wearing a pretty gay outfit so they definitely don’t think we’re dating.”

He looks over her outfit and can’t really point out what of the baggy jeans and jacket over a vintage CBJ t-shirt that looks like it’s seen a thousand washes is really gay, but he’s not really the expert. He thinks maybe it’s the Doc Martens before his eyes catch on the pins: A bright rainbow flag and one that says she/they.

He realizes he probably should have just responded, said something like ‘I don’t care if they think we’re dating.’ Which overall, yeah, he doesn’t particularly mind, he’d get an equal amounts of chirps for his singleness or if he had a new girlfriend.

“Do you want to get some ice cream?”

“Huh?” He shakes himself out of his head.

“Ice cream? People tend to like to eat it when they’ve had a rough day, and you, KJ, have had a rough day.”

“Yeah, sure.”

KJ directs him not to an ice cream place, but a grocery store. Buying two pints by claiming ‘my treat’ before they end up on his couch. She lets him put on the Kraken game and talk her ear off about Matty and how teams across the league look for the new season.

When he starts to nod off, KJ takes his pint and puts it in the freezer and gives him a kiss on the cheek on the way out. He falls asleep forgetting about the pit in his stomach from earlier.

++++

The injury is deemed day-to-day, but the doctors seem to think it will be about a month before he gets the all clear. The dark pit in his stomach grows a little deeper. Sure, he doesn’t need more surgery or anything. But it doesn’t feel great going down two games into a new season. The season where he was finally going to prove himself in the NHL.

He goes home and eats the rest of the pint ice cream for lunch, because it’s not like he has to play tomorrow or the day after that or even the day after that. The feeling subsides for a bit, but it gnaws away enough that he has to leave his place. Before he knows it, he’s parked in front of KJ’s house.

He hasn’t been inside, just dropped her off. He rings the bell of the middle door he’s seen her enter. There’s an almost eerie silence after the ringing stops, he thinks about pressing the button again but then hears someone coming down the steps.

KJ opens the door in a fuzzy red robe.

“Hey KJ, this is a surprise,” they smile up at him.

“Yeah, I- uh- had a shitty day and wanted to see if you wanted to hang out?”

“I’m just watching TV in bed, if that interests you? My roommate is sleeping before she goes to work so we just have to be quiet.”

Kent takes off his shoes and follows them up the stairs and to the room off the kitchen before he has a chance to really look around. There’s a small TV on top of beat-up trunk at the foot of the bed that KJ hops back onto, getting comfy against the pillows and headboard.

Her room is lit up with pink-ish fairy lights, that kind of hide the clutter around the room. But he can’t stop from staring at strap on hanging on the wall, a graduation tassel hanging off the yellow harness.

They look between Kent and the wall, trying to hold back a laugh.

“It was a graduation gift for the seniors at The Spectrum, for graduating with honors. Like Some Cum Loud, it’s embroidered on the harness.”

She raises an eyebrow waiting for him to finally make eye contact, they can’t tell if his cheeks are actually pink or it’s just the lighting. He finally flicks his eyes toward her.

“That one’s never been used. The one I use is in a box under my bed,” KJ can’t hold back the giggle this time and gets a twisted smile from Kent in return.

They pat the spot next to them on the bed and wait for Kent to unclench a bit and get on the bed. Moving around some pillows trying to get comfortable.

“We’re watching Girls, it’s problematic and a little annoying but also iconically messy,” they press play without any room for discussion or comment.

And the pair drift into a comfortable silence. KJ fans her hair out on the pillows, it’s damp and will probably dry funny. Kent wonders if it’s soft.

An episode ends and new one begins before KJ finally says something.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Kent shrugs, when he speaks his voice croaks more than usual, “not really.”

KJ hums, doesn’t say anything for a moment, then twists her body to face him. The slit at the front of her robe doesn’t move, revealing her pale leg all the way up to her hip and the pink underwear she has underneath.

“Do you want me to paint your fingernails?”

“No.”

“How about your toes?”

Kent scrunches his face, “No, I’m good.”

“I could braid your hair.”

“Do you need an activity?”

“I don’t know, I don’t have boys in my bed that often.”

“And that’s what you think boys in your bed want to do?”

She shimmies he shoulders, “no, I know what boys want in bed…”

Kent feels his face heat up, he didn’t mean to imply anything.

“But this has more slumber party vibes.”

They suddenly sit up onto their knees, and bounces on the bed, she brushes up against Kent’s thigh.

“We can order pizza and gossip about boys… well probably girls in our case.”

“I could go for pizza… not the gossip though.”

KJ adamantly slaps his thigh, “oh come on, you’re a professional athlete you’ve gotta have some fun stories from the road or something.”

He can’t stop the crooked smile in response and KJ knows she’s got him.

“I’ll find a way to crack you open, just you wait KJ,” they raise their brows a few times before grabbing their phone to look at pizza places.

And suddenly this is how most of Kent’s nights unfold. He’s still keyed up from not being able to play, watching from the press box helplessly, desperate to get out and skate. But it seems more manageable when he can pick KJ up from work and out to dinner or for TV in her bed or his couch.

He never really had a distraction outside of hockey before. He had class or studying at Michigan but that mostly meant hanging out with his teammates with books open in the athlete study hall or on rare occasions, the library. He tried to fill his empty injury time last season with reading, but it still felt like work for hockey when it was mostly books about mindset or other athletes.

This is different.

KJ smiles when he casually brings it up, that he likes having someone outside of his hockey bubble.

“Dumb, jock boy learns about work-life balance,” they laugh and go back to chopping vegetables in his kitchen.

He doesn’t bring up that he liked hanging out with her in college in the same way. That they only lived in the same place for about nine months and some of his time with KJ are his fondest memories.

He liked when she invited him to parties. Ones that didn’t always blast the same music he heard at the hockey house. Where people asked where he was from or what his major was rather than how the Olympics were or when he was leaving for the NHL. Liked that they talked about things he didn’t know anything about and didn’t make fun of him (much), just told him in a way he could understand.

He’s glad he gets to have this with KJ for the foreseeable future, even if it’ll less frequent when he gets back on the ice.

“Are you going to be playing again next week?” She dumps the vegetables in a frying pan.

“Probably not, I think I’m going to be able to practice maybe, or at least skate.”

“That’s exciting! And I hope you get to play sooner than you think, but if you’re not, do you want to go to a ‘Boob Voyage’ party with me?”

“A what?”

“My friend is getting his top surgery, so we’re throwing him party to say ‘ta ta to his tatas.”

“Clever.”

“It’s not your usual crowd, but it’s basically gonna be a college party at a place with a less sticky floor. And I’ll make sure no one posts anything with you on social media, just thought maybe you could meet some of my friends.”

She says it a little too fast, like they’re nervous. Something Kent’s not sure he’s ever witnessed. He can’t tell if it’s nerves about him saying no or him meeting their friends. KJ has met a couple of his teammates; Adam lives nearby and is coming over for dinner in a few minutes.

“Sure, I’ll go,” and it’s worth the answer just to see her smile.

++++

“Maybe you don’t need to change, you’re dressed like a lesbian,” KJ laughs when Kent opens the door.

“What?”

“I have that exact outfit in my closet,” they laugh, pointing mostly at the Birkenstock clogs he’s been wearing since he left the rink.

A retort dries on his tongue when KJ takes off her coat. She’s wearing a white sweater vest with nothing underneath, only the top button holding it together. The loose knit not hiding their dark, rosy nipples underneath.

Thankfully, KJ doesn’t seem to notice the staring.

“Do you mind if I finish my makeup while you get dressed?” She’s holding up her purse, shaking its contents in his face, “But no pressure, you can wear that, you’d fit in pretty well.”

He rolls his eyes and leads them up to his bedroom, a place they haven’t been to except for the brief tour he gave during the first visit.

She walks into the ensuite like she owns the place, leaving the door open and looking at Kent who feels like he’s helplessly staring.

“You can give me a little fashion show if you’re not sure what you’re going to wear, but whatever is probably be fine. James, who’s party it is, is totally basic dude fashion.”

Kent nods and wanders over to his walk-in closet. He tries not to overthink anything while he flips through his hangers.

Once he’s dressed, he leans in the bathroom door until KJ notices.

“Oooh, I like the red, very The Ohio State,” they smile at the bright red button down he’s wearing over a cream shirt.

Kent rolls his eyes and moves to go back to his closet.

“You can’t be mad at me for being an Ohio native. But let me try it again. Go Blue! And you look very Canadian, patriotic.”

“Better,” his mouth twists into a smirk while he looks in the mirror to fix his hair, after wearing a beanie all day.

KJ finishes applying mascara, one eye has swoosh of blue eyeliner and the other pink. Then jumps to sit on the counter, in between the his and hers sinks he doesn’t have a real need for.

“Let me do your make up,” it’s easier for them to bat their eyelashes when they’re thick and sooty like this.

Kent can feel his face contort in a look between confusion and disgust, he doesn’t even need to look up at his reflection.

“Come on, you’ll look so cute! I mean, you’re always cute but even cuter,” she pushes a lock of his hair out of his face, “I’ll keep it simple, just highlight your perfect cheekbones and a little eye makeup.”

She stares him down like she’s not going to beg, but she’s also not going to give up.

“Fine, but only cause you’re making me feel underdressed.”

He lets KJ rearrange him between their open legs, they grab his chin and positions his face the way they want. She gets the intense, focused look on her face when she starts. Her mouth hangs open a bit, their tongue pushing against the gap in their front two teeth.

Kent wants to put his tongue there, too.

He shakes his head like the intrusive thought will fall out, KJ laughs when it causes their brush to go off course. She uses her thumb to try and correct the mistake.

“All done,” they give his cheeks a quick squeeze together and hop off the counter.

She’s still standing in front of him, back pressed all against his front. Looking for approval from his reflection.

He feels kind of pretty.

His cheekbones look somehow sharper and softer at the same time, his eyes brighter than usual with sharp black eyeliner, a sprinkling of glitter at the corner of his eyes.

“Do you like it? I won’t tell anyone if you do,” biting their lip, looking a bit nervous.

Kent can only wordlessly nod, he doesn’t hate it and he’s not quite sure how he feels about that.

“Okay, let’s go.”

They arrive to the party and roar of cheers come with KJ’s arrival. They hold Kent’s hand while they make introductions.

“Let’s play beer pong, loosen you up a bit,” pulls him towards the table, let’s go of his hand for the first time since they arrived.

The beer pong is familiar enough to make him relax a bit. The balls are bright pink and they’re using plastic champagne glasses, when they sink a shot it kind of looks like nipple. He guesses that’s sort of the point.

They win a game and KJ jumps into his arms to celebrate. He feels drunk even though he’s only had maybe one drink.

But then there’s shots and dancing where he can feel the heat radiating off KJ’s body.

There are more shots and people asking Kent questions he normally would never think about, like how the NHL insurance is.

Another shot and then getting shoved into a rented photobooth with strangers.

He gets another drink and laughs from couch with KJ’s friends, KJ comes and plops half on the arm of the couch, half in his lap. His hand carefully rests on her hip.

“Cage, when you said you were bringing a straight boy, I didn’t think you meant your beard from Mich!” A bleach blonde woman Kent vaguely remembers meeting in college shouts from her chair across from them.

KJ flips her off, while she tells their new friends that they used to call them gay KJ and straight KJ after they learned he was in fact not a butch lesbian.

“I’m expanding our hetero horizons, we’re like one more shared ex-girlfriend from being an incestuous cult,” KJ laughs and slides completely into Kent’s lap

“You’re really enjoying that hetero exploration,” a man whose name Kent forgot catcalls.

“Guys stop! You’re gonna make him think we’re really narrow-minded gays.”

KJ laughs and wraps an arm around Kent’s shoulder, as the conversation ping pongs into another direction.

They stumble out into the street at about 2 AM, Kent thinks it’s the drunkest he’s been since college.

“My place is closer, let’s walk there,” KJ slurs and pulls him in that direction.

They’re arm in arm while they walk towards her place, it reminds Kent of the time KJ came to a hockey party and at the end of the night she begged for him to give her a piggyback ride home because she was so tired.

KJ fumbles with their keys and falls through the door with Kent on top of her when it suddenly opens. They both can’t hold back their laughs.

“Shh, shhhh, we don’t want to wake your roommate,” Kent tries to stop laughing.

“She’s working at the lab this weekend, we’re all good,” they start up the stairs after hanging up their coat.

Kent strips to his boxers and crawls into bed, he’s never gotten under the covers here. Just sat on top of the duvet with KJ like they were two teenagers worried a parent would walk in and assume the worst.

KJ comes back on wobbly legs, her hair piled on top of her head with a claw clip holding it in place, it looks kind of stupid. Their makeup is washed off and they’re wearing glasses that remind him of Owen’s, which is the last thing he wants to be thinking about right now.

Especially when KJ is crawling on top of him.

He’s about to say something when they move to hold his chin in place. Her thumb drifts up to his lower lip, nail pressing against the soft flesh. He sucks in a breath, their thumb drifts into his mouth.

KJ’s gaze is so adoring, he feels paralyzed by all the emotions going through his head.

She then brings a washcloth up to his face and gently wipes away the makeup. Kent hates that he has to close his eyes, like it’s breaking some spell that hasn’t finished casting.

When they pull the washcloth away, they tilt his head side to side, checking their work.

“Perfect,” KJ leans in close.

Kent has to hold his breath, tries to stop himself from being impulsive. Then KJ’s lips are touching his and he knows deep down it’s probably meant to be a quick peck, but he has to try or he’ll regret missing his perfect chance.

He grabs their hip with one hand and gently cups the back of her neck with the other. His grip is loose enough that KJ could break away if she wanted to, but instead they start to kiss back.

The washcloth slaps to ground while KJ moves to use Kent’s shoulder for stability. Their tongues meet in the middle and it all feels more intoxicating than any of the alcohol he had tonight.

Now that he knows she’s not pulling away he moves his hand at their neck down her chest. KJ hasn’t changed yet, and it’s easy to flick open the one button and expose their bare chest. He grabs a handful and she moans into his mouth.

KJ can’t seem to hold themselves up anymore. Pinning Kent’s hand between their bodies. KJ is soft and curvy everywhere Kent is flat and firm, and their bodies seem to mold together.

“I’m sorry, I’m drunk.”

Kent’s suddenly cold and KJ seems to have flung herself across the room.

He doesn’t know what’s the right thing to say, he doesn’t know why KJ is apologizing; he’s the one who started this.

She’s taking off her sweater and pants, changing into their pajamas and all he can do is gawk like a moron, until they turn off the lights.

“I’m drunk too,” he finely says, lamely late into the dark.

“Good night, KJ,” she whispers from the other side of the bed.

“Night KJ, I had fun,” he whispers back, a hand reaches across the bed and squeezes his, it might as well be squeezing his heart.

++++

He leaves the next morning before KJ wakes up; a walk of shame for his actions, for the conversation he doesn’t know how to have, for the things he’s not ready to admit.

Then he’s back on the ice for a full-contact practice and there’s not much time to think about it. It doesn’t stop the guilt from stewing deep down in his gut, but it’s easier to ignore when he’s back in the lineup.

Harder to ignore when he gets a series of texts from KJ:

ur game is on at this bar

saw you score 🍻😘

first game back baby 💖🥵💪

He knows he should probably invite her to a game now, make a peace offering that might make things seem normal. They’ve been texting like everything is normal, KJ sent him some pictures from the party. Maybe KJ is showing him mercy by ignoring what happened, maybe they don’t even remember.

He hearts the texts and talks about plans to celebrate with some of the guys.

They continue to live in ignorance while the guilt and confusion gnaws at his insides.

Then it’s shoved in his face at team’s Thanksgiving dinner. The first thing someone yells at him, “KJ where’s your girlfriend?”

He tries to play it off, making a joke about Fants who he carpooled with, it holds them off for approximately 10 minutes.

Zach’s fiancée, who had all of one conversation with KJ, asks him next, “Why didn’t you bring your girlfriend? Afraid of the full team interrogation?”

He doesn’t even know where to begin. That’s KJ isn’t his girlfriend? That they wouldn’t even be his girlfriend if they were dating? She would be his partner? Some other term he doesn’t even know yet?

“Um, she’s – they’re volunteering with some friends.”

“Okay, so not at the introducing to all the friends or spending holidays together phase, I understand,” she winks and walks away and Kent knows she doesn’t understand anything.

He gets a small reprieve with a week-long road trip where he feels so busy, that the plane-bus-hotel-practice-game-sleep repeat has never felt so good. And if he’s acting weird or aloof, no one comments. He takes it all as a win, even if they lose three in a row.

They lose the first game of the homestead; he wakes up to a text from KJ.

The washer in our building broke can I come do laundry?

It’s maybe the most innocuous thing they could have texted. He invites her over that night, offers to order dinner for them.

They come over in a pair of threadbare sweatpants and rainbow block M shirt, dragging a large rolling suitcase, pushing past Kent at the door to go to the laundry closet. They just start dumping things into the washer, pouring in soap, and ignoring Kent who doesn’t even know how to start talking. Even if there might not be anything to talk about.

She slams washer door and punches buttons until it comes to life, finally turning to Kent.

They cut their hair since he lost saw her. It’s almost as short as his hair, a choppy approximation of a mullet. It suits them.

“So, let’s sit down and talk about that kiss,” they come right out and say it, Kent chokes on his breath.

“You brought laundry for an ambush?”

“Our washer really is broken, so it was a good excuse. And I get free laundry done.”

He can’t fault her for that, let’s himself get pushed towards the living room couch to face the music.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts the moment they’re both sitting.

KJ bites their lip, her tooth gap barely peeking out.

“For what?” she says it so timidly, like she’s just as unsure about all of this as Kent.

Which can’t possibly be true, because they always know. They’re always so sure and headstrong. And Kent’s the one who misread everything, pushed himself on her without thinking about what KJ really wants. Only his own selfish desires.

“I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you when you were drunk, I know you don’t— you wouldn’t— I’m not—" he doesn’t know how to fill in that blank.

“You’re not what? My type?” Kent can only shrug, “and why’s that? Cause you’re straight?”

“I don’t know, I’m just confused,” he mumbles, can’t even look up to see what kind of expression KJ is making.

“Well having a crush on me does make you a little less straight,” KJ snickers and it makes him look up.

They’re giving him a sad kind of smile. He doesn’t know how to take it, but he doesn’t feel like he’s about to be reprimanded.

“And that’s what that was right? You have a crush on me?” Kent purses his lips, doesn’t want to make the wrong move.

“Because, I have a little bit of a crush on you too,” she puts a hand on his knee and squeezes, it’s electric.

“But you stopped us, and then apologized.”

“Being drunk isn’t usually a great starting point for big monumental changes between friends and,” she takes a big breath, “and I’ve never actually had sex with um—” they gesture in the general direction of Kent’s crotch.

“What?” Kent cocks his head to the side.

“I mean, I didn’t even know I liked boys until college and by then I was pretty comfortable with the lesbian sex and—"

“Didn’t you have a boyfriend like a year ago?” He remembers seeing something on Instagram.

“He was trans so… it’s not the penetration part cause, trust, I’ve had my fair share of penetration. I’ve given my fair share of penetration,” they ruffle their own hair while they ramble, Kent’s kind of endeared.

“And like the one time I gave a blow job in college I was super drunk and threw up on his dick… so I went back to the lesbian sex because I’m good at that.”

He can’t hold back the surprised laugh. He’s not used to this squirmy KJ.

“So, the biological equipment is all kind of new to me; it’s soft and then it’s hard and then there’s a mess and—”

“KJ, shut up.”

Kent cups their face so she can focus on him.

“As much as I love you being the uncomfortable one for once, just shut up.”

She stares at him with wide eyes, waiting for his next move.

“Here I was worrying I forced myself on you and questioning my identity, and you’re having an existential crisis about my dick?”

Their eyebrows shoot up to their hairline, “you were questioning your identity?”

“We can circle back to that later,” he leans in to kiss them, before they can say anything else.

The first kiss was nice, but this one is great. There’s certainty behind it that makes Kent feel warm all over. He pushes KJ onto their back, her legs fall open and Kent slots between them.

After what feels like eternity, they come up for air. They tangle their fingers in his hair, keeping him from getting too far away. Her legs tighten around his hips, like she’s testing where the new boundaries might be.

The washer chimes that it’s done.

KJ kisses him once, twice then pushes him off to go to the laundry. His eyes follow her helplessly.

She comes back sans sweatpants, the t-shirt falling just past the tops of the their thighs, and stops at the foot of the stairs.

“I think your bedroom might be a more conducive learning environment,” she gives him a lopsided, shy smile.

He jumps over the back of the couch, scrambling towards them. He grabs their hips and pulls them back into a kiss, but stops before he gets in too deep.

“What if this ruins our friendship?”

“Eh, have other friends,” she has a wicked grin, Kent bites their lip in retaliation.

#kent johnson #kent johnson fic #kent johnson imagine #columbus blue jackets #columbus blue jackets fic #nhl stories #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagines #nhl #hockey

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wendigoruble · 2 months ago

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Marco Barbi: Lore Drop 🧀

[Marcos symbol being cheese amuses me to no end]

Basics:

Name: Marco Barbi

Age: 23

Height: 5'10

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Birth Place: New Orleans

Current Location: Miami, FL

Marco Barbi was born to ████ █████ in 1952 in New Orelans, Louisiana. He would reside there for 7 years and in that time was frequently left home alone, wasn't socialized, and was not given a varied diet.

When he turned 7 years old, his mother would drive him to Miami, Florida where she would dump him at the apartment of his father. Franco Barbi.

Franco would not be involved in his sons life until he turned 12. From ages 7-11, Marco was raised by a sitter (basically a nanny with how frequently he was there) and picked up a gentle nature from him.

At age 12, Marco began working with Franco and would accompany him on jobs. This is where his extreme distaste and fear of violence comes from. At this time in his life, he would still be left with the sitter who would help him work through breakdowns.

In his teen years, Marco would fall into being a greaser and would become friends with another guy named Polo. They would commit petty theft but would mostly just spend time away from their respective homes together.

In 1972, Marco goes to see Rocky Horror Picture Show, and he has a moment of awakening. He is a transvestite. He is not gay. He is not a transexual. He's a straight man who takes joy in dressing in women's clothing. He heavily questions himself if he's really a man or not because of this.

Personality Stuffs:

Marco is emotionally closed off and very inward, particularly towards women. He sees no point in getting attached to women because he inherently assumes they'll all leave him no matter what. Men have been the only constant in his life. This isn't to say he looks down on women. He isn't sexist like Franco is. He just doesn't trust them with his emotions.

He has no idea how to interact properly with other people. He will throw out some awkward comments here and there, which is mainly Franco's influence. Even with his sitters' attempts at making him open up, he could only get Marco to play with him and not other children.

He has a fixation on cooking, specifically macaroni and cheese. This is basically the only food he ate from age 3-9. It's such a fixation that he eats it multiple times a week.

He's very sensitive inside due to all of the trauma, but he has become mostly stoic at work. He doesn't want to show weakness, especially not around his father.

He has chronic anxiety, control issues, and abandonment issues and will regress when stressed out.

Marco very much loves his father and wants to please him and make him happy. He doesn't want Franco to leave as well.

Misc:

Marco would only eat soft foods as a child. It wasn't until he turned 8 that he began to eat other foods.

He very deeply wants to he a chef. That is his dream job, and he hopes that one day he can accomplish this dream.

He was damn near mute as a kid, and even now, he is very soft-spoken.

Marco still has his teddy bear from childhood. It was his one constant and a replacement for his mother. As a child, he could not put it down at all, or he would panic and cry. This teddy bear is now a cross body bag he wears on his back. He also keeps his old pacifier in there and some snacks.

Marco didn't get his buck teeth from Franco. His teeth are an overject due to excessive pacifier use. He was not weaned off of it until age 9.

Marco lost his virginity at age 19 and has frequented sex workers ever since. His trips include things from basic sex acts to dressing in women's clothing to just being held.

Marco begins to dye his hair black-brown at age 16

After every single job Marco does with Franco, he will break down and regress. This involves holding his teddy bear, rocking, and being completely silent.

His transvestitism comes from his want to be close to women, but because he lacks the ability to connect on a deeper level, this is as close as he can get. He also wants to feel beautiful in the same way women are beautiful.

#outlast trials #outlast fandom #franco barbi #il bambino #outlast #red barrels #outlast oc #marco barbi #franco il bambino barbi #outlast au

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sweetbillwriting · 3 months ago

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Way Out of Line

FOURTEEN

Character: Keith Toshko from Barbarian (2022) played by Bill Skarsgård.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

I was too young to see how much our life changed in the time we moved to the house we live in now. It had slowly just come over me that our cars were a bit more fancy than others, that my clothes were in finer materials, and I got anything I pointed at. I was 11 and my dad's girl. Daddy's little girl. I just thought he spoiled me because he saw I needed it in a vulnerable time in my life, but in reality, the money in his bank account had decreased many times over.

I started to collect shells when I was twelve. It started modestly on a beach in San Francisco but grew to me getting one nice shell from every beach we visited. We went on at least one vacation a year, but most often two or even three times. My parents often said we were worthy of that, like we were a bit more special than everyone else. I didn't reflect on how much it cost to travel to Barcelona or Sri Lanka. I could see now how it has made me lose contact with money's value but also life's obstacles.

I heard friends and others stress about work and education while I shrugged my shoulders and picked some college courses to pass the time. I didn't have any thought about what it would lead to. I said to people I wanted to be an actress, and it would have been nice, but I knew I didn't have enough of an interest to really fight for it. I didn't really have enough interest to fight for anything because I had never needed to fight. I had a rich dad. I thought.

My dad had a young man behind him with more money than any man in his twenties should have. Keith had told me his mom had never been a part of his life, leaving him and his aging father as a family of two. His dad died when he was twenty of a heart attack and left him 50% of a billion-dollar company. His older cousins had already stepped in for their aging father, Keith's uncle, and there wasn't any need for the young Keith to take on all that responsibility. He chose to stay in the shadows, trusting his cousins and letting the money fly into his account without doing any work.

When he told me his backstory, I had mostly felt sorry for him for losing his family so early in life. I didn't reflect that hard over all those billions because I thought my life was economically safe anyway. I had never thought it was Keith who more or less supported our whole family. I didn't know he was the owner of the practice. I had no idea the practice had been close to bankruptcy several times, but my dad continued to live like nothing happened because he had someone else solving his problems, someone just putting new money into the company.

Dad spoiled me, and as a thank you, I was an easy child and an easy teenager. I dressed up and acted like the perfect daughter, the perfect doll. Daddy's little girl.

Whose doll was I? The man who made me a perfect doll or the man paying for it?

“I'll send you the bill.”

Would my dad get a bill if I continued to spread my legs for Keith? Being his girl. Daddy's little girl?

×××

I hear my parents trying to get people to leave without being rude, but my mom couldn't keep up the facade and sounded mean and stressed. Farah sent me a message, wondering what was happening because my parents hadn't let her say goodbye to me. I lay in my bed, still with a hand on my cheek. It felt like I hung on the edge of a cliff and just waited for my body to give up so I could fall. I didn't have anyone who would help me up either. I had no one I could truly trust.

“Jaqueline!” Shouted my mom from downstairs. I had heard everyone leave, and now it was just me and my parents left. Not even Jason had stayed; he had his own family and probably didn't have the energy to deal with this. Maybe he would have felt differently if he knew what it was all about.

“Jaqueline! Come down now!” Shouted my mom again, upset. It burned in my cheek when I heard her voice. I had never thought any of my parents would hit me, and that she had done that made me question everything. Maybe they could do more than that. Maybe it was just me who never challenged them enough.

Even if I felt a strong anxiety and fear, I walked down to them, afraid they would be even more upset if I refused to talk to them.

My mom stood and waited for me by the stairs. It was obvious she stood there because she would lead me to my father. Her face was frozen like stone, her eyes empty of emotions. I didn't look at her for long; instead, I turned to the living room because it was there they had had serious talks with me before, rarely about my behavior though. My mom walked behind me like she believed I would turn and try to run, but I knew that wouldn't solve a thing.

In the living room, my father paced around in circles, scratching his goatee, stressed. He didn't look as upset as Mom but much more stressed. When he looked up at me, I could see how pale he was and his skin all clammy. He looked sick, and I guess he maybe was sick of the thought of his friend together with his daughter.

My mom just scared me, but when I looked at my dad, I actually felt ashamed, but it wasn't just that I had had an affair with Keith that probably bothered him. His secret was also out. He was a fraud. He had never been a successful man, and he had never been the man creating our safe life.

“Sit—sit down,” he said to me and made a motion to the couch closest to me. I walked slowly to it, feeling my mom still walking close behind me. I looked between them, my mom's eyes hard, my dad avoiding my gaze. I swallowed hard and sat down, waiting for the verdict.

My mom sat down on the other corner of the couch and looked at my dad, who still walked nervously in front of us.

“I-... I-...” My dad just said, and shut his eyes. After a deep breath, he sat down on the coffee table and looked at me with glassy eyes.

“You can never see him again.”

I waited for him to say something more, but that was the only thing he said, and he waited for me to answer. I nodded, mostly because I wished that would please him and he would let me go. He nodded once, and his face hardened to a determined grimace. It looked like that was enough for him, but my mom started to move restlessly.

“George! I hope you will say more than that! We can't trust her!”

My parents looked at each other with the same expressions they had looked at me.

“You must fix this! You must make everything right with Keith again! We can lose everything, and she can't be out there destroying it!”

My mom's voice was loud and shrill. I continued to look at my parents while my heart beat harder for every word my mom said. My dad dragged his hands through his hair harder and harder until he was forced to stand up again and walk around. Now it was I who felt sick with the feeling of betrayal. The only thing worse than my parents making a big thing of me and Keith's relationship was that they wouldn't make a big thing out of it. It was obvious it wasn't my relationship with him that was the biggest problem; it was that they could lose their money. I could understand why they felt like that; I could even feel the same thing. I didn't want to lose my life.

I heard a bang and looked up, seeing my dad hitting his fist in the wall. The anger must have come from nowhere, but it was obvious my mom's words had made an impact on him because he pointed a finger at me and said with a low, angry voice.

“You will never see him again. I want your phone, laptop, and car keys. You will not have any more contact with him. You understand?”

I looked at him with big eyes and nodded like the good girl I was. I could see that was the best thing. I could see it was the best thing for them, but probably even for me in the long run. It was my family, and I needed to give up Keith for their sake. That's how it is to have a family. You must think about what's best for everyone before just your own luck.

Even if I gave away my things without a fuss to my dad, it didn't mean I wanted to do it; I just felt I needed to. Alone in my bed that night, I cried soundlessly. I would stand behind my family even if I didn't trust my parents anymore, and I would leave the man I loved instead. Daddy's little girl.

Places, places, get in your places. Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces. Everyone thinks that we're perfect. Please don't let them look through the curtains…

×××

Not having a phone or laptop as a student was difficult, so most of my time went to sitting by one of the library’s stationary computers. Everyone seeing me could see I had fallen from my pedestal because my face was puffy from all the tears and my eyes were empty, like I'd seen war and starvation up close. I didn't have much left in life, just Farah, but even she seemed to ignore me, probably because I wasn't the most fun person to be around.

Clair had stopped talking to me as soon as the sorority kicked me out. The friends I had in my French course had turned their other cheek to me after I had “used” Ludwig. And then Keith… Keith, who I had more or less lived with the latest month. My love.

My parents were oddly distant even if I've done everything they wanted, but I suspected they were just stressed over our future. My suspicion seemed to be right because after two weeks of the silence and my inner, lonely suffering, I heard them in a deep discussion after having come home from one more day of no school work in the library. I had just sat and stared like I often did, and now I was just as frozen in the hallway. They were in the kitchen and so deep in their conversation they didn't seem to have heard when I came through the door.

“He just sat in that chair, spinning around like a fucking child. He really doesn't understand money, fucking spoiled brat. He really doesn't know what it is to work for money.”

I heard my dad's upset voice a bit badly because of the bass in his voice but could hear my mom's voice clearer.

“Doing business with a man like that… Or man! He wasn't even a man when you decided to work with him. That was the worst decision you could have made!”

My parents talked like the business between my father and Keith had been equal, even if it was so obvious he had used a young Keith as a cash cow.

“So what should we do? Can't you try to appeal to his human side? He doesn't want to make a family homeless! Especially not if he actually had feelings for Jaqueline!" My mom continued, and I could feel the knot in my belly tighten when they talked about me and Keith.

“Homeless… We will never be homeless. I can take another job, but we might need to move to an apartment…”

“An apartment?! George, you must do something! What is even his plan?”

“Well… His divorce went through, so it's obvious he feels more free to make drastic financial decisions-”

“Did the divorce go through? How much did she get?”

“One million. 100,000 for every year they were married. She was probably worth it. Living with that greedy ass that long.”

“One million... That's insane, but I guess he liked being a free man too… Playing God and all.” My mom sighed. “You must talk with him again. We can't lose our home.”

My dad didn't answer because he probably didn't know how to solve it. Even if I sorrowed mine and Keith's love the most, I was also afraid of what he would do against us. Keith was a kind human, but I could also see that he had an irritation directed towards my parents; he had even called my mom slow. That I didn't give him any confirmation under the fight that night had probably made him hold a grudge towards me. I had chosen my parents' side, and if he had tried to contact me, I had ghosted him, not because I wanted to, but he might have believed that.

After a few minutes of calming my heart and listening to my parents' silence, I opened the door and closed it again with a loud sound. I didn't even really know why I did that because both my parents had left the kitchen, and they didn't acknowledge my presence until dinner, and then they just gave me a tired hello.

×××

I heard my parents discuss their desperate situation several times that week, and they got more and more upset every time. My dad talked in an angry panic while my mom cried. At the same time I still had my heartbreak and couldn't decide what foot I would stand on.

I sat and braided my hair on one more lonely Saturday night. Sometimes I braid it and remake it several times just to have something to do while staring into my own empty eyes in my gold-framed mirror. I didn't succeed in getting them as tight as I wanted, and I untangled them angrily.

“Should I help you?”

I looked at my door opening through the mirror and saw my mom in a velvet set in a deep petrol color. I looked back at her, surprised, but could also feel a warm feeling in my chest to finally get my mom's real attention.

“Yes, please.”

My mom brushed my long hair and then started to braid it high up on my head. I noticed she did it more carefully than she usually did. Both of us were silent while she worked, but when the hair ties were on, she looked me deep in the eyes through the mirror and then pulled up my phone from the front pocket of her zip hoodie. She laid it on my vanity table, and I stared at it, then at her.

“You get our blessing to see him. We've realized we overreacted. You're in love, and… Keith can give you a good life.”

I stared at her in shock. I hadn't expected that. I had prepared myself to never see Keith again and to never feel that sort of love again.

“You, you mean that?”

My mom nodded and gave me a stiff smile. She corrected the tie on one of the braids and gave a nod to the phone.

“You can call him.”

I snatched it up fast, afraid she would change her mind, and then I threw myself around her neck in euphoria.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

My mom didn't say anything but hugged me back; when she released me, she gave me the same kind of stiff smile and patted my cheek.

“Call him.”

I smiled brightly and pushed the phone to my chest. I didn't think about why they suddenly accepted my involvement with Keith; I just thought about his green eyes, soft lips, and strong arms. I would be in his embrace again…

…He didn't answer. I had been so full of joy to finally be with him again that I totally forgot the chance that he would decline. I had rejected him in front of my parents when he defended me after my mother hit me. It wasn't strange that he didn't answer, but I looked at my phone like he was the one betraying me. My door opened carefully, and I could see my mom's face.

“Already done?”

I looked at her with shiny eyes and shrugged my shoulders.

“He didn’t answer…”

“Oh…” My mom swallowed hard and walked into the room. “Try again. Maybe he was doing something. Try again.” I was on my way to say I've already called twice when my phone rang and I saw the number ending with 78. When I beamed with a big smile, my mom did too. I shouldn’t have been reacting to that, but I was just so happy he called back that I forgot my mom altogether. I answered with shaky hands and a wobbly hello.

“Hey…” Said Keith carefully, like he was afraid of scaring me. I giggled at his awkwardness and heard him laugh low too. Everything was okay. He wasn't angry. Kind, sweet Keith. I didn't notice my mom leaving the room or her relieved face.

I heard Keith take a deep breath and make a humming sound. It felt like he just wanted me to say something so he could say his thing after that. The sound was so close, so soft, that I made my own exhalation, but it was shaking, and just a couple of seconds later I cried loudly.

“Baby…” said Keith comfortingly, and even in my crying fit my chest became warm by the word.

“I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry, Keith!” My words were hysterical and stressed, and he hushed me soothingly. It calmed me down, but I still felt the need to excuse my behavior.

“I should have picked you. I really should have picked you. I don't know why I didn't say anything; I was just so shocked by the revelation!”

“I get it, they're your parents…” He sounded so calm I got worried until he continued to talk. “Should I pick you up? So we can talk eye to eye?”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah? The regular place?” With the regular place, he meant where he used to get me, on the parallel street where my parents wouldn't see me jump into his car. I giggled and dried my tears with the back of my hand.

“Yeah… I'm ready whenever you want me to be.”

“I’ll come as soon as I can. Okay?”

Once again I made a little giggle.

“Okay… I, I love you.”

“I love you too, Bunny.”

×××

Keith sent me a message saying he had arrived and had parked by the yellow house. I knew what he meant, and if you had checked the history of our conversations, you would have seen him writing that many times before. I didn't do my makeup, but I put on a white skater dress and my sweetest perfume. I almost jumped down the stairs and gave the living room a fast look. My parents sat there, and my mom gave me a smile that was hard to read. My dad sat with his back towards me, and I was a bit happy he did. Going out to make out with his college friend was still a weird thought, even if he had allowed it. I gave them a fast bye and got one back from my mom but also a “Do everything you can to get him back!” I didn't listen because I was already on my way, running to Keith.

Keith already stood outside of the car when I came running towards him. He left the door open but met me with long strides in the middle of the street. I didn't know if it was me who jumped or he who opened his arms first, prepared to lift me, but I got caught in his arms, around his waist, when I came up to him. We hugged each other hard at first, but then our lips found each other, and we kissed like we needed the other one's air to breathe. I didn't know whether I should cry or laugh, so it became a mix of them both. Keith took my face in his hands and looked at me, trying to read my emotions, and I smiled at the warmth of being with him again and looking into his big eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asked and carefully put me down on the ground in front of him. I kept my hands on his chest, over the taupe-colored linen shirt he wore.

“I'm okay now. I've missed you so much. I don't understand why I didn't just go with you…” I looked down at his chest instead of his eyes. Keith didn't say anything, no calming words, so I looked at him nervously, afraid he would be upset. He nodded a little and laid one of his hands over mine.

“Let's get home and talk there. I think we need that.”

×××

I think both Keith and I really had the thought to talk when we came to his home. I sat in the car and imagined us drinking tea and opening up about our feelings and becoming a couple officially, but when Keith gave me an innocent kiss as we came in through the door, none of us could restrain ourselves, and we reached out after each other. We made out messily while pulling at each other's clothes, and Keith stood with his neck bent in an uncomfortable position until he gave up and lifted me from the floor. We didn't break our locked lips even then, and he carried me to the couch so he could sit down with me in his lap. His hands dragged over my naked thighs, and under my dress but didn't touch me where I wanted him the most. I didn't need to think much about undressing him because the buttonholes of his shirt must have been stretched out because with just our movement, his shirt was unbuttoned to the top of his belly. I could see the first lines of his abs, and I looked up at him with a smirk.

“What?” he asked with an innocent look.

“You don't need to flex like that,” I said with a giggle because it was obvious he had started to flex at once when I looked down on his torso. He chuckled a little and relaxed, but as soon as I started to unbutton the rest of the buttons, he flexed again. I giggled at him and gave him a kiss. It was sweet he did such things; there was still a young, a bit insecure man inside of him, and it made it easier for me to see us as equals. Keith smiled but took hold of my face, one big hand on every side, and steered my face while kissing me. It was a kiss from a man who had kissed many, many times before, and I was pleased with that. Unconsciously, I started to drag my center against his while we kissed and felt his hard member through his beige slacks. He moaned into my mouth and met my movement, rubbing his erection against me.

“Daddy…” I moaned, without thinking that I once again had given him the nickname, but I thought about it after, I could see that he was my only daddy. The only man who had really taken care of me. If I told someone else that, they would have looked at me with disgust, but for me it was obvious: Keith was my daddy who took care of me emotionally, financially, and sexually. I was his princess for real.

Keith pulled off his shirt and showed off a tanner body than I had seen before, then he looked at me with big eyes.

“Can I take off your dress, baby girl?” I smiled with a blush, so happy to be his baby girl again.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Keith smirked, pleased, giving me that darker look under his eyebrows. After having struggled with the zipper on my side, he pulled the thin garment off so I just had baby pink panties on, but I knew what he liked, so I pulled them off and straddled his hips again. I knew I would leave a wet stain on his pants, but I also knew he would like it. The rough fabric was both uncomfortable and erotic to have pushed against my pussy, but I was the most pleased when I could feel his erection searching for freedom under me. Keith sucked his lip and looked at me from top to toe, but his eyes stopped where the stain I was making became bigger and bigger.

“Do you want Daddy's cock?” He said with a raspy voice and laid me down on the couch so he could stand on his knees between my legs. I looked at him with big eyes and laid my hands over my head.

“I want your cock in my bum, Daddy.”

My cheeks were as red as the sweetest cherries and stretched down to my neck.

“In your ass?” Keith looked at me with big eyes and unbuttoned his pants, like he couldn't believe his ears but also was afraid to miss the chance.

“Yes, Daddy,” I smiled and laid my hands over my warm cheeks. I really wanted to do it. Not just to please him but also because I wanted him as close as possible. If it were possible, I would have let him crawl inside me, but this was the closest thing. It was also a turn-on to know Keith was a virgin in this. It was one thing we would meet as new lovers.

I looked at Keith standing up to pull off his clothes as he became just as bare as me. I wasn't prepared for it, but he lifted me up bridal style and carried me to the bedroom instead, where I could stretch out more comfortably in the big bed.

“Have you…” he started while he lay down next to me. “Do you know how it's done?” He asked and arranged me carefully so he could see my ass. His hand moved up and down my cheek, letting a finger graze my opening. It was a bit of a scary thought that his girth would push into me there but it was also that that made it exciting.

I shook my head and nodded a little. He looked a bit nervous too, and it was understandable; he had probably just looked at porn involving it, even if it probably was a lot of porn.

“I need to prepare you… You will never be able to take me just like that and the first time… I don't know if you will like it.”

“Daddy is so big.”

He smirked a little and looked at his own erection proudly.

“Yeah… It will hurt.”

I nodded, but I had decided I would do it. Nothing could change my mind.

Keith prepared me with lubed fingers and then a dildo. I got a bad feeling seeing it at first, wondering if it was that dildo, but I forgot about that when he pushed it in. I made a loud, pained sound, but Keith just breathed more loudly by it. I knew he liked the power. I lay on my belly with two pillows under my hips while he sat in a comfortable position next to me. When he noticed it got too much for me, he played with my pussy until the feeling of an almost orgasm took over and he could start over again. It was painful; I couldn't lie about it, but still I said I was ready for his cock after he had used the dildo for a while. I knew he was bigger than the pink dildo. I knew it would be harder for him to restrain himself when his own pleasure was a part of the action. He straddled my hips easily with his long legs, and I could feel and hear him use lube on both me and himself; still, I was nervous.

“You must relax, honey, otherwise I will never be able to push in," he whispered when he leaned down like he would do push-ups over me. I nodded a little while he stood up again, massaging my back and continuing lower to get me to relax for him. A few seconds I wanted to flee, but after a few deep breaths and Keith's hands and fingers over my thighs and pussy, I felt ready. I could feel the painful burning when he pushed in but also heard him grunt like he was in heaven. I wanted him to feel that, and I worked through my pain and pushed back so more of him glided in.

“Oh, fuck, you're so tight… Oh, fuck…” His voice was different, higher in pitch, but he also sounded a bit like a teenage boy. He carefully pulled out a bit to then push in longer when I made a sound like I would cry. Keith stopped.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“Yeah…”

“Oh yeah, fuck, good girl…”

He was too pleased hearing I could handle it, but it also made it all worth it. He did a few more strokes while grunting loudly. It was obvious this was something special to him, but it was also what destroyed it for him because it just took a minute until he was forced to pull out and cover my bum with his seed.

×××

It really hurt after. I was not prepared for that, and neither was Keith. He had thought the preparation would do the work, but it didn't. I could see he felt bad when we lay opposite each other in the bed after taking a shower together. He had tried to give back to me, go down on me, or just have him inside me while we cuddled, but I couldn't handle it. The pain was too much.

“I didn't… I didn't think it would be like this for you. I'm sorry…” Said he lowly. I shrugged my shoulders.

“I wanted it.”

Keith nodded a little but scratched his neck in discomfort. I could hear his phone vibrate on the nightstand, and after a few seconds of him checking I was okay, he looked at his phone. I thought it was just a notice or a text from a friend. It rarely took so long for him to look at it, but now it did. I looked at him curiously, and he then looked back at me.

“Shit… Shit…” He sat up but looked back at me after a few seconds. He was hard to read, but I could see some sort of pettiness in his eyes, but also anger. First I thought he was angry at me, but he then smiled sadly at me and gave me his phone.

George Bailey:

Sorry I got so upset last time we saw each other. I know my daughter is with you. Maybe we all could eat dinner some day?

“Was it them? Did they put you up for this?”

I looked at the message without understanding what he saw at first. For me it just looked like my dad reached a hand out until I had read it a few times. It sounded like he gave me up to be able to get on Keith's good side. I didn't want to think about the words you could use for a woman who gave herself to a man for money, but it was what it felt like. My parents had encouraged me to go and sleep with a man so they could get money from him.

“Fuck Jaqueline, I hope you're not a part of this… Was it his idea to let me fuck you in the ass? Did they really try to traffic you?”

Go ahead and cry, little girl. Nobody does it like you do. I know how much it matters to you. I know that you got daddy issues. And if you were my little girl. I'd do whatever I could do. I'd run away and hide with you. I know that you got daddy issues, and I do too…

#bill skarsgård #fan fiction #bill skarsgard #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #keith toshko #keith #barbarian

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