#it's supposed to be a group thing so yeah

[lunajay33]

Suppose to be You Part.3

•🖤🍑🏹🧟‍♀️•

Summary: You’re Shane’s girlfriend but when the apocalypse hits you find him changing and find yourself leaning more towards the only person who gives you the time of day, also you’re Rick’s younger sister

Pairing: Shane x f!reader, Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: Shane’s a cheater obvi, harsh words, Merle

Part.2

•Masterlist•

It was mayhem, everyone freaking out, some crying as they grieved the ones taken down by walkers, others hugging the ones like Lori hugging the family they still had, Shane and Rick doting on her while Daryl wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me over to our tent, the fire mere embers now

We sat down as I rested my head against his chest, holding the hand that was draped over my shoulder, my breath shuddering

“I’m so glad you came back”

“I told ya I would, almost lost ya…..” he said as he gently squeezed my hand

“God must be out for me, first he tears Rick away from me, then Lori and Shane have an affair behind my back, and now this and after what Ed did to me” I sigh not seeming to catch a break

“God couldn’t do something like that ta ya, all this happenin ain’ yet fault peach, and it’s lucky the walkers got to Ed before I did for what he did to ya” he groans, scoffing like he does

“I don’t feel safe here anymore D, it’s like the men are after me one by one” he lifted me up from his chest so I was sat looking at him, gently brushing his thumb across my cheek

“I can take ya away, keep ya safe from pain” my heart leapt in my chest never has Shane treated me like I was the only thing that mattered in his world, hell Rick doesn’t even know what’s been going on yet

“You’d do that for me?”

“I ain’t got much left here, Merle’s gone and the group has it out for me cause of merle, only stayin fer ya” I’d go with him, I want to but I just got Rick back

“Let me talk to my brother, maybe he has a plan plus I’ve barely been able to talk to him since he’s came back” he nods before leading me into his tent making an extra spot for me

“You sure you don’t want me to go to my tent” I ask as I lay next to him

“I’m not letting ya out of my sight again, get some sleep” he shut off the camping light and we both fell asleep instantly

•

The morning came quickly and everyone got to work, making piles of the walkers and the people we lost, I took a plate of food and brought it over to Daryl where we was axing the walkers just in case

“Here take a break and eat” he turns squinting from the beaming sun above, the sweat glistening on his skin

“Nah ya eat it”

“No Daryl I already ate, you need it you’re working so hard” he had a glimpse of a smile for a second before it was gone taking the plate, soon hearing those scruffy footsteps coming up behind me

“Hey hun can I talk to you, barely got to see you” rick asks smiling like a big brother, he always made me feel happy

“Yeah of course, I missed you” I smile as he leads me off to a lone sitting area

“How’ve you been? Things seem…different” his tone laced with concern

I look down at my lap feeling ashamed over everything that’s happened and how do I even tell him this? He just got everything back

“He said you died Rick, when I found out I couldn’t function for days it felt like I had died with you then the walkers took over, Shane got us out of the city and we got here but things changed, I think he just didn’t want me anymore, I don’t know if it’s because I’m not his type anymore or he just fell for someone else but….he isn’t who he use to be”

I look up across the camp seeing Daryl checking on us, I smile waving as he nods his head before going back to work

“And what about him, Lori and Shane say him and his brother are bad news”

“You went to the city with him what did you think Rick”

“Bit of a hot head but he has deep concern for the ones he loves” he smiles patting my back

“Rick he doesn’t love me, he’s just been helping be with everything, he’s nice to me” I can feel the heat spread across my face

“If Shane isn’t treating you how you should then so be it, be with the man who deserves you as much as you deserve him” Rick was always easy with his words, I never understood why he was friends with Shane

“Thanks Rick, I’m glad you’re back, I love you big brother”

“Love you too sunshine” I feel a weight lift off me as a I stride back over to Daryl where he’s taking a break sitting on the back of his truck tailgate

“So……ya had yer talk, ya still wanna stay or do ya want me to take ya away?” He asks placing his hand over mine on the tailgate so no one else could see

“I don’t know….can you give me a few days? I just need to get my head straight”

“No rush, I’ll go where ya want, just tell me and I’ll take ya away” I see the faintest blush rise to his cheeks

“Thank you Daryl, for everything”

“Always”

•

We came up with a plan after much arguing we loaded up our vechiles and headed for the CDC, Rick and Lori had a full car plus I didn’t want Daryl to drive alone in case anything were to happen

I got in his truck after we loaded up his motorcycle in the box of the truck, sitting in my seat as Daryl gets in soon after, the silence heavy, everything changed so much in the past few days but I guess that’s just how life is now

“Ya okay peach?” Daryl asks brushing my messy hair back

“Yeah…..yeah just….worried is all I don’t want this place to be like this, too much has happened here I don’t want more problems”

“Ain’t gonna have no problems if I’m around” he starts the engine and we’re of in the parade of vechiles, a old cd playing from the radio watching as the trees flash by

After a few hours of driving we finally make it to the cdc, the sun setting we gather our gear and run straight to the door, Daryl taking my hand and wrapping it around his belt loop on the back of his pants telling me not to let go as the walkers neared

So much happing it was overwhelming, everyone screaming and crying, arguing, the walkers groaning and the sound in my own heart beat, I felt the world start to blur when the doors finally open

Everyone runs in and I drag my feet as Daryl drags me, the fluorescent lights shinning above as the door behind us slams shut

“Daryl I don’t feel so good” I sigh feeling like I was high not feeling my body as my legs give out but not before Daryl catches me

•

Daryl’s pov

She felt heavy in my arms as she almost hit the floor completely unconscious, my heart beating frantic, was she bite in the attack and she didn’t tell me?

“I need a bed now” I bark at the doctor and he leads us to the living corridor, I laid her on a bed, Rick and Shane coming in as well but I bite my tongue for her

“The hell did you do to her” Shane groans as he pushes me away from her

“Ya better watch yerself, she ain’t yers”

“Yeah like she’d pick a Georgia redneck over me”

“I ain’t gotta defend myself against a man who scared the livin shit outta the woman he was suppose to protect” he tried coming at me before Rick takes Shane’s shoulder and stops him

“That’s enough Shane, just give us some time” he huffs before he stomps out leaving the room silent, as I start checking her over, her clothes untorn but she could have changed

“Ya alright if I check her skin?”

“Go ahead, can’t be to sure” I slowly check her, anxious ever time I lift a different part of her clothing, just waiting for a bite to appear but luckily she’s clear

“No bite”

“Then what’s wrong with her?”

“She could be exhausted, she’s……had it rough lately, might’ve been too much today”

“You’re watching out for her?”

“Mhm” I hum as I sit on the bed next to where she’s laid

“You seem to only like her, don’t act like this with no one else”

“And it’ll stay that way” he nods giving me an appreciative glance before leaving us alone

•

Normal pov

I wake with a pounding head ache, my heart pounding harder again, I sit up anxiously looking around and all I see is a strange room I’ve never seen before

“DARYL!” I yell out and soon I hear footsteps coming towards the room relieved he was coming but when the door opens and in walks my living nightmare I freeze as he closes the door behind him

“What’re you doing here, leave Shane” my voice waivers but he doesn’t stop he comes right for me, pinning me down on the bed his grip bruising my wrists

“Shane please don’t do this” I cry frantic trying to just get away

“You ruined everything” he growls, his eyes burning with hate…anger

“I didn’t do anything, you were the one who cheated on me, who made me feel like I was scum, you’re just jealous that Daryl is more of a man than you” at that he smacks my face hard as the door slams open as I let out a whimper from the sting

“Ya son of a bitch” Daryl yells as he comes running over ripping Shane off of me and slamming him against the wall

“I told ya never ta lay a hand on her again, she ain’t yers, she don’t want ya, I’ll kill ya”

“Hey hey hey what’s going on here” Rick says as he comes in breaking them up

“Why don’t ya ask yer best friend here” Daryl says as he comes and gentle checks on my cheek

“I didn’t do nothing” Shane laughs in denial

“You hurt me Shane” I sigh holding my now throbbing face

“You touched her?” Rick groans sending death glared at Shane

Shane pushed past Rick and left the room

“Do ya still wanna stay here with them?” Daryl asks brushing my hair back, maybe we should have left

“Woah what do you mean? You can’t leave I just got you back” Rick intervens

“I know but…..I’m not safe around him Rick, he’s not the guy you knew, it might be better for just me and Daryl to go”

•

It’s been a day since the incident and I’ve had my heart in my throat the whole time, never leaving Daryl’s side, suddenly a blaring alarm comes on

Jenner telling us the reason, we’ve come this far just to explode, after some explode in anger others settle down as the timer ticks down

“Come on I’m getting us outta here Angel” Daryl says trying to get me up off the floor

“I don’t know Daryl, maybe it’s for the best” he leans down taking my hand

“Ya ain’t givin up, I’ll get us out and ya ain’t gotta be scared anymore, just gotta try one more time” I’ve never seen him so desperate

“Okay one more time D”

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Riptide

Pairing: Twilight x Reader

Warning(s): Smut and very brief mentions of drowning

Notes: Commissioned by the wonderful and amazing @bellamyers2043. Hope you enjoy! <33

Masterlist

It started with Wild, because, really, when didn't things start with the Champion?

You yawned, stretching your arms over your head, twisting your spine just enough to ease the steady ache that had been building since the group headed out this morning.

A warm hand laid itself on your shoulder, and Twilight's country baritone rumbled in your ear as he joined you by the grove. Time had called for a rest a few minutes ago, leaving you temporarily unoccupied. "Tired, darl'?"

You turned to face him, hands resting on the curve of your hips, grin threatening to split your face. It was always a pleasure to talk to him, not that you were going to admit it. "Not on your life, Rancher."

He laughed, a rumbling sound that rolled through the air like thunder, and patted you with a gentleness you'd sworn you'd only seen the Ordon goats receive. "Jus' don't wear ya'self out, you hear? Not that 'm opposed ta carryin'--"

"First of all, rude," you stuck your tongue at him, moving your arms to cross over your chest. "And second of all, I've got legs, you know."

Twilight's eyes sparkled and you immediately cursed every choice that had led you up to giving him ammunition for those Hylia-awful dad jokes. "Ah might've noticed; here 'n Ordon we've got these helpful things called eyes."

"Har har," you rolled your aforementioned eyes, reaching over to flick his chest. "Now that you've got that out of your system, what's happened?"

"Wha'? Ya think ah need a reason ta spend a little time wit' my favorite person?" the Rancher joked good-naturedly, throwing in a wink. You snorted and tried not to think about how smooth the action was. After a moment, he acquiesced with a huff: "Ah'right, ah'right, 's Wild."

"...Oh no?"

"'S more than that, darl', ah'm just 'ere to warn ya 'bout supper."

"No," you breathed, trying and failing to hide your terror. "Don't tell me...?"

"'Fraid 's true," Twilight said sadly, and you were sure he'd be holding his hat to his chest if not for the fact that he didn't have one. "Ah tried ta warn 'im 'bout that spice, but he's goin' straight fer that Goron--"

"Let me guess, we're having chili tonight?" You asked with budding despair.

The Rancher's gaze was sympathetic, though you weren't sure if it was for you, him, or your combined tastebuds. "...How'd ya know?"

You groaned.

Epona noticed it first. 

She was a good horse; kind and gentle, with a sassy streak that made her all the more lovable. Unfortunately, she didn't seem so lovable now, but you supposed the fact that her hooves were currently inches from your face was a pretty good cuteness-dampener. Your hands fisted her reigns as you desperately tried to calm her, but she continued to rear, forelegs kicking, stark mane tossing in the breeze like a flag caught in a hurricane. 

“Hey–!”

Something wrapped around your waist, and you were yanked back into a very familiar chest. Twilight’s arm tightened, keeping you close as Warriors closed in to reclaim the mare’s reins, trying to coax her back to Earth. You hadn’t the faintest clue what could have made her act like this–the only thing ahead was a bridge, for Hylia’s sake! 

Warm, frantic breath fanned over your ears. “Ya alright, darlin’?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stuttered, heart hammering in your chest as you struggled to regain control of yourself. Even through the multiple layers, the Rancher was unnaturally warm, and you shivered as choppy waves of heat soaked into your back. 

Twilight, mistaking your shiver for one of fear, made a soft noise and patted your head. 

“Yer ah’right, ah promise– jus’ keep breathin’,” he coaxed, and it was with no small measure of surprise that your body seemed to obey, if the sudden influx of oxygen in your lungs was anything to go by. “Ah’ve got ya, sweetheart.”

If you weren’t burning before, you sure as hell were now. It was only when Warriors managed to calm Epona were you released from the Rancher’s embrace, red-cheeked and quick to put some much-needed distance between the two of you. The others were quick to crowd in, each voicing their personal thoughts on the insanity that had just occurred. 

“The hell was that, Rancher?” 

“Ah’ve got no idea, she ain’t usually…” he turned his gaze to the bridge, suddenly thoughtful. “...could be somethin’ ta do with that bridge up ahead.”

“...It does look old,” Hyrule added, rocking slightly on his heels before laying a hand on your shoulder, asking in a significantly quieter tone: “Are you alright?”

You nodded quickly, the interaction giving you the courage to clear your throat of any residual scratchiness. “We could try going in pairs? So we don’t overload it?”

“I like that idea,” Sky nodded along, already looking around for someone to drag along with him. He eventually locked arms with Wind, who was all but bouncing over to the bridge. “We’ll go first.”

“Yeah!”

You waited with bated breath as the two heroes ambled over the creaking wood, half expecting it to simply break from force of premonition again. Fortunately, they made it across without any problems, and the rest of the group was allowed a sigh of relief. Four and Hyrule went next, crossing the bridge in a similarly cautious fashion, with the Smithy looking particularly relieved when his feet touched the rocky ground. 

There was movement on your left side, and you turned your gaze to study Twilight’s offered arm. The Rancher grinned when you took it, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Third time’s tha’ charm, right?”

“Don’t jinx it,” you teased, letting him lead you to the rickety thing. A thick sensation settled in your stomach as soon as the toe of your boot bumped solid wood, but you ignored it. The others had made it across safely, so what about this was different. You just had to breathe, and pretend you weren’t walking arm-in-arm with your months-long crush. Easy peasy, right? Right. 

Your foot settled fully on the planks. The bridge shuddered. You felt Twilight’s grip on you tighten. 

“I’m fine,” you whispered, a bit unsure of whether it was him or yourself. Maybe both; maybe neither. Either way, there was birch beneath your boots and a thick lump in your chest, threatening to rattle through your esophagus at the slightest sign of danger. 

Everything was fine. 

Crack. 

Until it wasn’t. 

You didn't have a name for what happened next, only that it was accompanied by the inexplicable feeling of falling. You remembered the terror, the screaming–because no one liked falling–and the dreaded moment you realized there was water in your mouth, hair, nose, eyes, shaping the world into a black-light abyss that cradled and swallowed you in equal, terrible measures. 

There was a yell. It was far away, and so were you, though it didn’t stop your eyes from forcing open, droplets of salt joining the ever-rushing waters of the river. Your body twisted in the swift current, like a marionette on silver strings or a ragdoll that had been pitched from a cliff. Something bubbled from the depths of your chest, erupting in a series of terrified burbles that did little but bounce to the shifting surface. 

Don’t fight, your mind whispered, eerily calm despite the fact that your life was flashing before your waterlogged eyes. You remembered learning to swim, and the resulting lecture about rip currents when your parents realized you were too curious for your own good. The current. Sideways. Don’t fight. 

Your arms clawed at the water, fingers pressed together in an attempt to form makeshift paddles. Above–or was it below?–you, the surface winked like a smug mother or certain errant rancher. If you could just–

As if sensing your intention, the world inexplicably flipped, sending you spiraling into the depths. You cried out, then bit down, and, suddenly, murky water wasn’t the only liquid in your mouth, the sharp bite of copper now taking precedence over overworked taste buds. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

The surface was gone, replaced by an inky blackness that had every nerve in your body positively screaming. Hell, you could be screaming. Who even knew at this point? Plus, your chest hurt, and you were starting to realize that not all the darkness was due to the water. You tried to lift your arms, but they refused to move, pinned to your heaving sides by the raging current. 

Your mouth opened for a final, desperate cry. The terrifying world tilted once more, sending you deeper into the abyss. It was cold. Frigid. Soul-sucking. 

You crumbled at the same moment a hand seized your wrist.

Drowning, you discovered first, was a dry experience. 

Alternatively: coughing, you discovered second, was a horrifyingly wet experience. It began with a shuddering of the lungs, accompanied by a swift rattling of cracked ribs, and, suddenly, you were on your side, hacking like a maniac as water spewed from the depths of your body, splattering all over the chilled ground–

“–arlin’!”

–Wait. 

Your vision was a mess of colors by the time you decided to force your eyelids open, squinting at the blurry, half-tan, half-green mass before you. A straggly wheeze escaped your lips, a dreaded remnant of the coughing fit, and you let your eyes squeeze shut once more. Something was shaking you, and you had half a mind to cuss them out for doing so. 

The shaking persisted, as did the voice. 

Something pressed to the side of your neck, probing the damp flesh. Two fingers, your exhausted brain guessed. Large. Thick. You would have killed to have those inside you. 

“–n’t ya dare die on me, ya hear!”

Why… why did that sound familiar? The voice sounded male, and you could have recognized that country drawl anywhere–

You were rolled onto your back. The fingers at your neck moved to your nose, pinching your nostrils together–you would have gasped in outrage if you could–and another hand slid between your lips, tugging your jaw ajar. You tasted murky water, leather, and a smattering of coppery blood. 

–Twilight!

Your eyes snapped open just as the Rancher’s mouth slotted over your own. 

Time seemed to grind to a halt when a puff of warm air invaded your throat, slicing through your throat until it reached your lungs, making you feel more like an inflated balloon than a waterlogged rat of a human. He did it again, and your hands found his chest, administering a surprisingly powerful shove. 

The hero was off you in less than a second, and it didn’t take a genius to register the flush atop tanned, tattooed cheeks. You found yourself coughing once more, chest heaving as your body worked to force out every last drop of water. Dying, it seemed, was a terribly exhausting endeavor, seeing as you didn’t even have the strength to resist as Twilight moved you to your side once more, a large, warm palm patting your back with just enough strength to push the last dregs of river water onto the now-soaked ground where they belonged. 

“Jus’ keep coughing,” you could hear him a lot better now, likely because of the sheer adrenaline his previous action had sent rushing through your overworked veins. He said your name; once, twice, and it was all you needed to gasp a behemoth of a breath. “Get it all out, darlin’.”

And so you did, until there was nothing left to hack up but your own spit and the congealed blood from your bitten tongue. Everything ached, and it felt like an eternity before you were once again maneuvered to your back. The hand previously on your spine moved to brush strands of hair from your face. 

Your eyes cracked open. 

Above you, Twilight looked positively horrified. His hair was a mess, sticking every which way as it dripped water onto his cheeks. Your heart twisted at the sight of a bruise marring his collarbone, not to mention the nasty-looking scrape on his jawline. Fuck, he looked every bit as rough as you felt. 

A weak smile tugged at your lips. 

“I thought…” your voice was scrap-y at best, and downright pitiful at worst, but you were grateful that you could speak at all. “...we agreed… not to jinx it.”

The Hero of Twilight, defeater of Ganondorf and protector of Hyrule, burst into tears.

A gust of chilled wind swept through the cave as Twilight carefully set you on the stone floor. After nearly soaking you all over again with his tears, he had gone in search of shelter, not taking ‘no’ for an answer when you protested being carried like a limp maiden. By all accounts, he had suffered the same as you, but this was the Rancher, so you eventually sucked it up when the ache in your throat became unbearable. Despite your weak protests, it wasn’t hard to find a place to hunker down when the area turned out to be a veritable smorgasbord of caves. 

When he turned to face the vine-covered entrance, likely to search for firewood, you found it in you to interject. “Twi…”

He was at your side in an instant, hands on your shoulders in a manner that would have made you blush mere hours ago. “Wha’s wrong? Ya in pain? Tired?”

You tried not to wince, you really did. Unfortunately, your companion took that as a sign of maximum agony, and fingers prodded your pulse once more as his other hand coaxed you to lay against the floor, making sure the hood of his cloak was pillowed beneath your head. It was another action he hadn’t taken ‘no’ for an answer with, though you were less inclined to argue when it was wrapped snugly around your shivering shoulders, still encased in the clothes he pulled you out of the river in. “Ah don’t have any fairies on me, but ah can–”

His rant was cut short when you grabbed his wrist, channeling all your energy into the action because, damnit, he was injured too! “Stop,” you croaked, loud enough that it rang through the cave, reverberating thickly against the damp stone walls, and, in a far quieter tone: “Breathe.”

By some miracle, he actually did. The hands left you in an instant, though you suspected it didn’t do much judging by how his shoulders continued to shake. Fuck. Ignoring any mumbled protests, you sat up, leaning against the wall with a determined expression. You could do this, you could help. 

“You need to rest,” you said, voice not quite as harsh now that you were actually using it. Your gaze swept over his clothes, taking note of just how wet he looked. “...You’re going to freeze.”

Twilight looked down at himself, then back at you. You waited for the gears in his head to finish turning. “So are ya…”

For Hylia’s sake…

“Take your tunic off.”

“Darlin’–”

Your eye twitched. You would not let him die because he was scared of being naked in front of you. Fuck your crush, because he was your friend first. “Take it off or I’ll do it for you, Link.”

The Hero of Twilight gulped, but the Hero of Twilight was also a smart man, so the tunic was off in less than a minute, revealing a frankly delicious chest you had seen many a time. Not that you were weird about it, but there were only so many shirtless-woodcutter incidents you could handle before gazes began to dip. 

“Thanks,” you told him, hands worrying the hem of your own tunic. If you wanted any chance of surviving the night, it would have to go, so you steeled yourself and began to lift, only to pause when Twilight flushed and very obviously turned away. “...Are you kidding me?”

“Don’t mind me, ‘m just protectin’ tha’… perimeter.”

It was a miracle unto itself that you didn’t roll your eyes. Until you realized that your newly-discovered noodle arms were not all equipped to handle the task that was getting your own tunic past the swell of your chest. Fuck. 

“...Twilight?”

His ears perked, though he didn’t turn around. “...Yes?”

“I need help.”

The defined muscles in his back tensed, and you were pretty sure the flush had expanded to his shoulders, but he turned regardless, wearing an expression that could only be described as bashful. Calloused hands found the hem of your tunic from where it was bunched at the beginnings of your ribs. “Can ah…?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, and he waited no longer, gently tugging the tunic up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but a few paltry lengths of bandages around your chest. Your nipples were stiff from the chill, and the way the Rancher paused informed you that you weren’t the only one to notice. Your mind raced, but not with the urge to cover yourself. 

Coughing, Twilight took both tunics and moved to lay them in the center of the cave to dry. While he worked, your hands found the hem of your pants, which were also soaked, shucking them off in a move that you suspected would have taken any man out. Your underwear went next, hastily in the right leg of the shed pants, and you used the last of your strength to wrap the pelt around you in a manner that preserved both modesty and sanity. 

Wordlessly, the Hero of Twilight grabbed your waterlogged pants, laying them out in a similar fashion. He didn’t comment on the suspicious bulge in the right pant leg. When he was finished, you decided to act once more. 

“Come here, Rancher.”

Stormy blues regarded you from over a toned shoulder. Twilight only hesitated a moment before shuffling to lean against the wall, tossing a chaste arm over your shoulders and pulling you against his size. He had chosen to remain in his trousers, likely to maintain some dignity, and, while you understood, a small part of you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. 

A beat passed. It was awkward, but the whole situation was awkward. Life was awkward. 

You shifted in a half-hearted attempt to gain some friction. “Are you warm?” 

“...Mhm,” he hummed. There was a shiver. Your eyes narrowed. 

“Liar.”

You were in his lap before he could defend himself, tastefully ignoring the surprised noise that escaped him. Without a word, you pressed your chest against Twilight’s, making sure the pelt was still obscuring your form, and buried your face in his neck. There was no way in hell you were going to stand by and watch him suffer, no siree. 

For a moment, it was as if the world had simply ceased to exist, and you were the only two people alive, nestled among the simple comforts of Mother Nature. For a moment, neither one of you resembled a waterlogged animal, half-drowned and all-exhausted. For a moment, you could pretend that he loved you as much as you loved him. 

“It’s going to be okay,” you told him in all your squeaky-voice glory. 

There were hands on your mid-back, pressing you against his furnace of a chest. This time, you leaned into the warmth. “Yer trembling.”

You didn’t miss a beat. “So are you.”

“...Ah need ya ta stop bein’ right, darlin’.”

It was a Hylia-damned miracle that you found the energy to chuckle, turning your head to giggle in his ear. “That was dumb.”

A hearty pat to the spine was his response. “Yer laughin’.”

He had you there. 

Another gust of wind thundered into the cave. You huddled close, praying to whatever deity was listening that your clothes would be dry by the time this bullshit was over. “Shit, I’m about to freeze my tits off–”

His breath hitched, but you were far too focused on regaining warmth to notice. Your hips rocked slightly as you pushed a bit closer, only to bump against something ha–

Oh. Oh shit. 

Your eyes snapped open, and you resisted the urge to throw yourself back from sheer force of shock alone. Was that–? Your hips twitched again and, lord, it was exactly what you thought it was. A pulse of heat warmed your belly when Twilight’s hands tightened around your back, fingers stiff and tense. 

Well, fuck. 

What in Hylia were you supposed to do now?! Tell him? Run away? Pull that monster out of his pants and get warm in a real way– No! Bad thoughts!!

Despite your… feelings, Twilight–Link–was your friend, and that would always come first. Even if you had to bite your lip and pretend his clothed dick wasn’t pressed in the crease where your bare thigh met your even barer core. By Hylia, you could get through this. You would get through this. 

There were hands on your mid-back. There were hands– shit, there were hands on the small of your back now! A shuddering breath tore from your lips, and you turned your head to the side in an attempt to regain some sanity. “Twilight…”

The hands immediately shot up, and you wanted to scream in frustration. The Rancher’s voice was tinged with apprehension as he shifted, though it did nothing to help the situation. “‘M sorry, darl’, ah don’t know what came–”

“No, no, no, you’re fine,” you said quickly, feeling a bit frantic yourself. Your core felt warm, and you tried not to perceive the budding wetness between your thighs. “I’m just cold and, uh, you’re warm. Really warm.”

You could practically hear him bluescreen from here. “Ah… happy ta help…”

Twilight’s bulge throbbed against you. 

You chewed your lip. The Rancher sucked in a breath. 

“...Do you need help?”

It was as if time had frozen. Twilight’s entire body jerked, and you could all but feel his gaze burning holes into you, though it was a bit hard to tell when you had your face buried between his neck and shoulder. Should you not have asked? Was he going to hate–

“Ya don’t…” his voice was husky, tinged with an emotion that had your thighs begging to clench together. He said your name, just once, and continued: “Ya don’t know what yer askin’.”

Your breath caught in your throat. His cock twitched through his pants. You were going to hell. 

But you already knew that, didn’t you? In a move that would have given your mother an aneurism, you brought your face to the column of his neck, letting your lips brush against the trembling skin, all the while adjusting your hips so his erection was nestled snugly against the burning heat of your core. 

“Maybe,” you murmured against his Adam's apple. It bobbed, and you allowed yourself the ghost of a grin; hook, line, sinker. “But I can learn.”

A low sound filtered from Twilight’s chest, gravelly enough that you could have mistaken it for a growl had you not known it was him. Your name rolled off his tongue once more, accompanied by a gentle hand on your hip. He didn’t squeeze, simply feeling the weight of your flesh against his palm, and you took the opportunity to sit up fully, hands flat on his shoulders, thumbs tracing gentle circles on bared flesh. 

“Twi,” you paused, wondering how much more impactful this little pocket of time could be. “Link.” 

There it was, the shudder you had only imagined in your deepest, darkest dreams. Like a miniature earthquake, rattling your nerves with blessed friction. “Ah ain’t gonna make ya do anythin’ ya don’t want to,” he told you; eyes soft, tone softer. Every syllable was a promise, a chance to break free and contemplate your life choices, and it was a sorry shame you would never take it. 

You drew in a breath, filling your burning lungs once more. The pressure ached, but so did your belly, your core, your heart. Everything hurt when you were so close, yet so far. “So don’t.”

Then, you kissed him. 

The first kiss was awkward–as most tended to be–and you were rather inclined to call it more a consensual collision of lips and teeth and tongue than anything else. Twilight kissed like the world would end if even the slightest modicum of space appeared between the two of you, gripping your hip in one large hand while the other slid to your jawline, tracing your skin in the same manner in which his tongue slicked against your lips. The second was less so, after a minute-long break to catch your nearly nonexistent breath, and you were beginning to understand why 

The third was a revelation of wandering hands down a toned, heaving chest and the tender joining of people who may as well have been lovers. The fourth; a returning slide of fingertips against your chest, stopping to press against your pebbled nipple, unblinking cobalt eyes watching the skin dimple beneath a firm touch. 

His name–the true one, the one that began with a rolling syllable, and ended far too quickly–fell from your lips, swallowed in the heady press of flesh and puffed breaths. You had no doubt that he heard you, from the rumbled rendition of your own name flitting into your ears, but all thoughts scattered when that clever thumb meandered across your breast, returning each time to stroke the waiting, silky nipple in a manner that made holding back your moans feel like a herculean task. Your back arched, pushing yourself impossibly closer, but no move was made to take further advantage of the situation, and it was with astonishing clarity that you realized Twilight wasn’t going to push you further. The beast in his head may have wanted, but the hero in his chest would never take. 

“Link,” you panted, squeezing the flesh of his shoulders as the pelt slid down your back, revealing the arched, goosebumped expanse of your back for all to see. You were simultaneously freezing and burning, trapped in a torturous circle of polar opposites, hips rolling just enough to slide a few inches along the side of his contained length. It was so large, hot, and you were distinctly aware that it would likely take more than a few tries to fit that monster within you, but, damnit, did you relish a challenge. 

His thumb moved to trace down the knobby joints of your spine. “Tell me what ya need,” he murmured; unhurried, yet so fucking desperate. You could see it in the sheen of those storm-blue eyes, the glistening beads of sweat gathering at the fridge of his hairline, and the way his fingers twitched against your skin. 

Wetness pooled between your legs, undoubtedly soaking the fabric of his pants. You didn’t care, and you suspected that he didn’t either. “I need you,” the words puffed from your mouth like clouds, hanging in their air until they shattered into a million meaningful fragments. Your hips rocked. He hissed. “Please.”

The world tilted on its axis as your body was maneuvered to lay on the ground, the sharp edges padded by the soft expanse of his pelt. You let yourself fall–allowed tender hands to guide your legs where they belonged: a loose, gentle clasp around his waist–and you let yourself stare when he leaned down, down, down to press a smooch to your damp hairline, then another on the bridge of your nose, all the while your gaze roamed the tousled, wild mane he called hair, the blood-flushed skin, and the darkened patches littering his chest and neck where the river nearly sent you both to meet your maker. 

When your hips made to roll, he stopped them, lips brushing the perked shell of your ear. “Not yet,” said Twilight in a tone that both soothed and stoked your desire. His back bumped up a few inches, creating plenty of room for a hand to slip against your thigh, feeling the way your muscles corded beneath a mere brush. When you whined, he hushed you: “Ah gotcha, darlin’. Jus’ relax.”

Relax?! How were you supposed to relax when–

A finger probed your folds with all the care in the damn world, simply stroking the skin for a few small eternities before even daring to dip into shimmering wetness. Nary a breath was heard as the appendage became one with you, and, when your hips squirmed for more, it became two, administering a gentle stretch that had more than your walls clenching. 

–oh.  

You hardly registered his voice until it boomed above you, a cacophony of hushes and praise that would have made anyone tear up. Maybe you were tearing up. Who knew anymore, when all that mattered was the hand between your thighs and the desperate, lovesick burble of your heart. Please, you wanted to whisper, say you love me. 

When a thumb grazed your clit, your hips nearly lifted off the pelt, a tepid gasp clawing from the depths of your throat. Twilight leaned in to press the start of many open-mouthed kisses to your throat, trying to distract you as his fingers scissored away, coaxing your gummy walls with a purpose. Are his eyes glowing or is that just you?

Twilight was a natural, and a damn quick study. Seconds felt like an eternity when his fingers curled, brushing up against a spot within you that had you practically wailing to the unforgiving ceiling, stars swirling in your vision like flickers of the Goddess herself. A whimper moan tore from your throat, hands flying to claw lines down his shoulders, and he did it again, again, again, again until your belly was reduced to a roaring wildfire, so bright and burning that it threatened to swallow you whole. 

“Tha’s it,” said the hero; your hero, tone rimmed with desire, seasoned with a kind of desperation that had your heart clenching in your chest. “Jus’ let go. Ah’ll catch ya.”

So you did; vision white, throat screaming. Everything blackened, then lightened, pulsing with the pleasure shooting through every nook and cranny of your body. You jerked like you were dying, but he held you steady. The Hero of Twilight caught you, all while keeping a delicious rhythm that coaxed every muscle to clench in brilliant sync. 

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. For a moment, being with him felt like drowning–the good kind, the kind that made you wrap your arms around his thick neck and bring your lips together in one swift motion. His fingers left your body with a lewd pop, practically dripping with slick. Your mouth all but fell open when he sat on his haunches, made frankly intoxicating eye contact, and licked the digits in a motion that was far too smooth to not have been practiced. 

A chilled gust swept through the vines. A bare-chested Twilight shivered. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. You beckoned him with a hand, shooting a swift glance to the growing wet spot in his trousers, and scooted to make room on the pelt. 

He was at your side in a heartbeat, wrapping your form in a tight embrace; chests pressed together, hips wishing they were. The heat from his body soaked into your skin, creating a makeshift barrier against the elements. Your heart skipped a beat when his erection brushed your belly. 

It wasn’t the best idea you’d had, nor was it the worst, but you had no time for semantics when you brought a hand to the Rancher’s abdomen, purposefully dragging your fingers over his skin as you let it dip further, only stopping when your fingertips bumped his waistband. “Is this okay?” you murmured softly, not wanting to push him. 

He looked baffled that you felt the need to ask. “Darlin’, after everythin’ we just did–”

Twilight cut himself off with a gasp, then a moan as you slid your hand into his pants, taking the length of him in a soft, exploratory grip. His cheeks blushed crimson, contrasting beautifully with the obsidian design marking his cheekbones and forehead, and you felt him throb. Fuck. 

Thighs pressing together, you began to stroke, running your fingers over firm, spongy flesh until his hips bucked. Your other hand loosened the tie keeping his trousers secure, and the Rancher’s groan was nothing short of relieved when you finally freed his aching cock. It jutted proudly from his pelvis, the shiny head flushed a deep, cherry red. You had half a mind to scoot down and take him in your throat, but you knew the hero in him would never let that fly after everything that had happened. 

With that in mind, you settled for pumping his length at a steady pace, thumbing over the head to smear the glossy burbles of fluid leaking from the tip. Twilight breathed your name like a prayer, and his hips rocked softly, pressing more firmly into your touch. He was enjoying this, and the thought alone filled you with more warmth than you knew what to do with. 

After a few dragging moments, he brought his hand to cover yours, temporarily halting your movements. Confused, your gaze met his, eyebrows raised–had you done something? Did he not want to continue?–but the hero merely smiled, moving your hand even lower until it no longer lay between his dick and your core. The tip flopped between your thighs, pulsing against where your clit peeked from between your folds. Twilight’s eyes never left yours as he moved to hold your hip in a gentle grip. 

“...Do ya have any idea what ya do ta me?”

You swallowed. You hoped your grin wasn’t too sheepish. “Hopefully nothing bad.”

The hand on your hip slid to grasp the back of your thigh, positioning it over the curve of his hip, further opening you up to his hungry gaze. You let it happen; hell, you even moaned a bit when the swollen head slipped lower, just barely parting your lower lips as it slid, hot and heavy, against your weeping entrance. 

“Ya could never.” 

Twilight kissed your forehead. A puff of breath fanned over your sweat-slick skin. 

Then, he pushed. 

Your eyes flew open the second the head breached you, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat. It wasn’t painful, per se, but there was definitely a stretch, and you were eternally grateful when he paused, quietly letting you adjust. A warm palm stroked the flesh of your thigh and there were lips on the column of your neck, lapping at sweat-slick skin with purpose. His hips gave the smallest of rocks, sending your nerves skittering as another inch slipped inside your cunt. 

“Link…” you whimpered; like a promise, or a prayer. Maybe both. 

His mouth popped off your neck with a soft noise, head lifting to plant more kisses on the apples of your cheeks. “Yer okay,” he soothed, holding you as close as possible without making things uncomfortable. You appreciated the contact, smiling softly at his attempts to distract you. It was freezing outside, but you didn’t think you had felt this alive in years. “Ah’ve got ya.”

“I know,” was your response, quiet as the night. “I love you.”

Twilight’s hips jerked. You moan-screamed as he pushed in the rest of the way and filled you fully, bodies pressed together in all the right ways.

“Ah– shit, darlin’! ‘M sorry,” he apologized quickly, looking rather mortified at the turn of events. You had to tighten your leg around his hip to keep him from sitting up and performing yet another wellness check because, goddamnit, you were an adult and you could have sex after almost dying if you damn well pleased! “Ah didn’t– I love ya too– does it hurt??”

Without waiting for him to continue, you reached up, grabbed his face, and practically smashed your mouths together. Twilight’s reaction was instantaneous, tongue sliding against your own in a manner that had you clenching like a vice around his length, drawing another moan from the depths of his chest. One of his hands trailed down to palm your breast, flicking your nipple with purpose until you separated, to which he bent to capture that very same nipple between plush, kiss-swollen lips. Your head fell back against the pelt, back arching in an attempt to bring yourself impossibly closer, a broken rendition of his name rolling off your tongue. 

Twilight shuddered as you spoke his name, eagerly sucking and nipping at the stiff peak. A particularly harsh suckle had you whimpering, leg tightening around his hip, and he gave a short, gentle thrust that had you seeing stars. He repeated the motion once, eyes training on your face from his position at your breast, then twice, until a steady rhythm began to take shape. It was too much and not enough, you thought as you gripped the back of his head tightly, moans and whimpers spilling from your mouth like the water you coughed up earlier. 

His mouth moved to your other nipple, giving it the same mind-numbing treatment, and it took everything in you not to shriek when a particularly deep thrust sent waves of pleasure skittering up your spine like spiders. “Link!” you called, if only to use your tongue for something other than wailing as he drilled in and out of you. 

The Rancher’s ears perked. He tentatively repeated the action, watching intently as your mouth fell open. “H-Here?”

You nodded quickly, eyes squeezed shut when he angled his hips to do it again, again, again, and again until you hadn’t the faintest clue which way was up. A slew of praises left his mouth, which eventually dipped to suckly at your neck once more. It felt like an eternity before the hand on your breast slid down down down to thumb the sensitive nub of your clit, borderline growling when you whimpered and clenched down on the cock within you. You didn’t care anymore, not when you were like this, pressed so close that you could feel his heartbeat in your very soul, and it showed from the way the scream of his name bounced off the cave walls, ricocheting through the space like a cannon. 

A tightness formed in your belly, growing with each delicious stroke of his hips. The thumb padding soft circles on your clit didn’t help in the slightest, and you could feel yourself drawing closer and closer as the seconds ticked by. Your fingers, still tangled in the mess that was his hair, twitched as the pleasure ramped higher and higher, until–

“C’mon, d-darlin’,” oh god, oh fuck, you were not going to last if he kept talking like that. “Cum fer me, I want ta–fuck–feel ya. I love ya so much–”

Without warning, the coil snapped. You screamed your release to the stone, and the sky, and the vines, twisting and turning like you were being burned, vision whiting and thoughts scattering like a thousand sparking stars. Somewhere nearby, there was a god-to-honest growl, though you lacked the brainpower to fully comprehend anything but the sensations skittering through every single nook and cranny of your exhausted body. 

Twilight fucked you through your orgasm, abandoning all other efforts in favor of thrusting into you like an animal, his balls smacking against the bottom of your ass with each fierce jerk of his hips, leaving you helpless to do anything but cling to him and pray to whatever deity was watching for survival. Just as overstimulation began to set in, he stilled, face buried in the curve of your neck as his length gave an almost violent twitch. You stiffened when the first splash of liquid hit your insides, not expecting the sudden warmth, but he kept you close, and you eventually relaxed, all but collapsing onto the pelt to catch your breath. The sound of harsh panting told you that the hero was doing the same, and the two of you just… laid there. Thinking, breathing, perhaps wondering what the hell this made you two now. 

“...Are you okay?” you whispered once your heart rate had returned to a somewhat calm level. 

“I love ya,” was his response; exhausted, but sweet. A pair of arms wrapped around your back, and the Rancher pressed the softest kiss to your lips. “More than anythin’.”

“I know,” was the last thing you said before the world went comfortingly black.

My first commission!! I'm really proud of this one (6k words can you believe it??!!) and I hope you all love it as much as I do <3

[takes1]

Hello!! (I don't know exactly how to do this)

Could you write something for Tendo Satori being a simp for short skirts with thigh-high stockings?

Thank you so much

tendou is obsessed with your thigh-highs

hi!! you did it right haha. could not stop thinking about this one. great request!! glad to be able to write it so quickly :0

warnings. nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / tendou is a thigh guy / thigh high fetish / almost fingering / makin out / reserved!reader / yapper!tendou / endstate situationship / intense PDA / college au / TA!tendou / 2.3k words / potential for part two idk

links. masterlist. more haikyuu here. my ao3. my imagines

Tendou clocked your little outfit the second you walked into his study group's reserved room.

As the TA for this course, he tried to keep himself far away from you, just to clear his mind before trying to help. The library was now 40 minutes away from closing, and the handful of students that showed up were nearly all gone.

Helping the last poor soul with practice questions was not quite enough- he found himself praying you would stay another ten minutes for him to try and flirt, just a little.

He wanted to ask what was the deal with such an eye-catching get-up, but he wasn't sure what the best approach was. So, like usual, he just went with whatever felt right.

"Hey!" He was loud, friendly, and accidentally succeeded in startling you from behind.

You turned in your chosen beanbag to give him an unsure look. You didn't say hello back.

There was something different about this guy. You had your guesses at to what exactly ailed him, but they would remain background noise for the time being. Phone clutched to your chest, you collected yourself again in the aftermath of such a fright.

"Did I scare ya?"

He didn't wait for you to respond through your tiny chuckle. He was on a roll, and needed to open this up.

"Whaaat? No homework?" Tendo pushed his weight forward, limp over your beanbag, right beside you, "Don't tell me you're already done?"

Tendou was absurdly quick. Conversations, usually more confined to a specific, academic topic, usually left you spiraling from his fast and unfocused mind. Most of the time, you felt like a passenger in your own talks, but he was waiting for you now.

You hadn't realized how much time had passed, engrossed in a post on your phone for minutes, now. Everybody was almost gone.

"Um- yeah, I am."

There was so much going on behind the squint he gave you. It made you feel all hot and cold at the same time.

He muttered, looking around the rest of the room, "Smart and pretty, cool- that's cool."

Your mouth hung open a little, a blush creeping over your face, but he was onto the next thing. As if he didn't just call you pretty.

"So-ooo do you usually dress up outside of class?"

It was never one question. In this case it led to lots of elaboration, back-to-back.

"Because I totally did not get the memo, if we were supposed to wear something nice. I mean, bro over there is wearing a piano shirt, suit jacket and jeans. I'm-," He paused a moment to snicker at him, "-A little confused. So--,"

His eyes nearly gave him away. They faltered, slipping down to the sliver of skin showing at the top of your thigh-highs, just before the hem of your skirt ended.

"Do you- usually wear this?"

In a natural response, your eyes were following his, and you automatically pulled down on your skirt to cover yourself.

Your voice was quieter, slower, than his by many measures, "I wouldn't call this 'dressing up,' but, um, it is my style."

He had to mask his frustration -the Hellish screaming from inside- with a bigger, sillier thing.

"You got somewhere to be after this?"

Again, more questions. You couldn't help but laugh at the way he asked them so quick, flighty, like he was maybe asking you about course material.

"Like, a date, or something? Going to- I dunno- see your boyfriend? Something like that?"

Now you understood. He was no-doubt flirting. You set your phone on the floor, an inquisitive smile at your lips.

"I don't have a boyfriend," You looked him up and down slowly, watching how he adjusted, plenty aware of it, "Why do you need to know so bad?"

For the first time ever, he was searching for what to say. You grinned.

"Y'know," You shifted, twisted, to look at him straight on, "If you kissed me, I might kiss you back."

Your teeth clinked together in his haste. It was silly, an endearing accident, that made you smile against him.

His lips were soft, and warm, but he kissed you like you were made of chocolate. Something sweet, something to be devoured. There was no room to doubt his intentions because he was so passionate from the start.

A big, strong hand laced through your roots and guided you to get a better kiss from this angle.

It had been a while since your last fling. Tendou could fill the empty space in your heart, between your legs, for enough time to forget how lonely you were. Longevity wasn't something you were after. He was into you and that would do.

"Mm-h," You parted to tell him to come sit next to you, instead.

Tendou wiped the string of spit from his mouth, flushed, but never backed down. His confidence, especially in the face of being such a weirdo, was a turn-on.

"Ya think this is big enough for me~? Let's seeee,"

You watched, amused, at how he slinked into the space next to you and completely filled it up.

"You're... pretty tall," You confessed, shaky. Your hand shot out to touch him, invested in his size, all of a sudden. Hesitation, at the last second, kept you from following through.

"Mhmmm, you know it. 6'2, if you're curious."

Encouraging, he completed your desire to feel him by placing your hand on his shoulder. He did all the hard work so easily.

You were human. You had your preconceived biases. You thought weird, nerdy guys were supposed to be frail and skinny.

Tendou's shoulder was instead strong, and filled out. His shirt was a thin blend of polyester and cotton that was strained at the bicep and not so much at the waist. His legs stretched out much further than yours. All these titillating realizations kept cascading in big waves of shock. It kept you in a state of stillness that directly contrasted his excited wiggling around to get comfortable.

"You okayy?" He laughed, his proximity a safe, but new change. His words buzzed against your cheek between kisses, "You really like tall guys, or somethin'?"

He did usually wear hoodies, in your cold classroom. The way he slouched in it made him look closer to 5'9". It was warm in here so he had set it on the back of a chair a while ago.

You kissed him, falling against his warm chest in an attempt to shut him up.

Though he loved being chatty, he knew when it was a good time to let other things get the point across.

"Mmh-,"

He returned your passion tenfold. Forearm behind your upper back, a hand wrapped all around the back of your neck, he crushed you back down under him.

God, he was good with his tongue.

It didn't take very long to realize you both wanted each other, bad.

You liked what you were finding out about him, the further he went with you- he knew he liked you from the start of the semester, and now got to express his gratefulness for the chance.

"You should wear these more," His dirty, breathy voice matched the rough way he pulled your thigh-highs down.

Tendou was completely lost in the way your thighs squeezed together, how your stockings were just a little too small, your skirt arguably too short for your ass. No wonder you chose a seat like this, far away from the other students.

What he wanted was for you to sit on his face. But even he knew that idea was too much, so he settled for squeezing at your flesh, adjusting to be more over you.

You gave a closed-mouth moan of surprise at the feeling of a stiff cock under his jeans, rubbing on your leg.

The way he had you all spread and squished again for him, a little tight on space, very last-minute and surprised, was exactly how he wanted you. He grinned. Thanks to his features, that made him look intimidating.

"I've got a- a thing, for these," He explained, clearing the air a little, "Now that I think about it, if you wore this to class, I probably wouldn't be able to focus."

Just the idea of keeping him distracted like that filled you with a hot, focused, urgency. You pulled him in, legs parted, for a raunchier kiss.

He groaned against your mouth, biting your lip, and pressed an eager palm against your pussy.

"Ahh-mm-!" Your whine was getting cut short by another carnivorous suck to your lip.

He got you so wet, so malleable, so quickly.

"Fuck," His hips were grinding on your thigh, apparently enough stimulation for him- it made you feel proud, that you could get him feeling so good without much work.

His digits slid under your soaked panties. You gasped against his mouth, fingers filling with the neck of his t-shirt.

"Mmm, fuck that feels so-o good," His confession devolved into more of a growl.

His fingers were using all the wet there to better slide against your clit, a filthy, smooth sensation that kept you writhing.

"Ohh--oh my go-d," You mewled, eyes scrunched shut at how much you needed it. He swallowed up your sounds with hasty, hard kisses.

His groin kept pressed, rolling, against the back of your thigh.

It felt hot, and big from what you could tell, but you were still left to speculate what he was hiding under those jeans.

Never in a million years would you have guessed that he possessed knowledge on how to touch a woman. In any sense, not just explicitly. He was everyone's favorite, goofy TA. Not some womanizer.

Your fingers raked through his messy hair, taking in the feeling of his tongue against yours, all while trying to keep your noise down.

When he began to part, you didn't fight it, because you needed to breathe. But he stopped moving his fingers, and it left you shaky, needy. You rolled your hips and pressed your leg harder onto his hard-on.

"We sh-ould- we should stop," Tendou sighed, clearing his throat.

He was glancing around the empty study room, head on a swivel. He didn't look particularly upset, nor like he had actually heard something. You sure didn't. What the hell was his problem?

You were grabbed at him, groaning, "What?"

Another little kiss to your forehead, and the hottest, most rabid look any guy had ever given you before made you pause.

"I just- uh, I just have--," He was distracted again, squinting around, "A bad... feeling."

"I made you feel bad?" You sounded more whiny, than anything. You would have thought it embarrassing, but your cunt was throbbing with the need for more, and that took priority.

He chuckled, prying his own fingers from between your legs with marked displeasure.

"Noo, no, you make me feel like I wanna tear our clothes off." He thought for a second, sucking the wet from his index and middle finger, "Then run naked into the woods and never come back. Live like our ancestors. Have like, 16 kids."

There was no time to unpack that.

Just as you had fixed your stockings back, and he rolled off of the beanbag to stand -shifting his cock to a less obvious position in his jeans-, the door opened fast with no knock.

"Heyyy!"

Your wide eyes went straight to Tendou, but he didn't look at you. How did he know?

"Hey!" He greeted piano-shirt guy with typical ease.

The unwelcome guest, somebody you vaguely recognized from your class, explained themselves, glancing about the room, "I left my phone here! Have you guys seen it?"

Your voice cracked to say 'No,' and you vowed to remain silent for the remainder of your fake search for this idiot's phone.

Tendou found it in one of the swivel chairs. Part of you couldn't help but feel like he had some magical powers. Once the guy left, you were left mourning all that perfect proximity, all the dizzying desire you had built so quickly.

"Sooo angry," He cooed.

As he invited you for a hug, it was clear that he found your frustration the most adorable thing in the world.

You tolerated it because he held you. More specifically, he held you and palmed your ass from under your skirt. Your arms were stretched, linked behind his shoulders, as you stole more of his perfect kisses. You pushed him to sit on the table so you could stand between his parted legs.

He kept laughing, giggling at least, and messing your kisses up.

"Mh- what? What is it?"

Tendou snickered, "Didn't know you were such a little freak--,"

"Freak?"

"Ohh-kay, okay, not freak- umm," He giggled at the offense you took, cupping your face in his oversized hands, "Sorry. I really like you. I wanna do this more."

You hadn't caught on quite yet, so you leaned in to kiss him again, but only got his cheek. He grinned at your disappointment.

"Nooot here, though."

He was still squinting around, "I dunno, I still don't feel right."

After such a strong demonstration of predictive ability, you couldn't not trust his warning. You glanced around, too.

"Some other time?"

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.

[scary-grace]

Guitarist!Tomura actually has me in a chokehold so a gc would be nice I just need to work up the courage LMAO

Guitarist!Tomura also has me in a chokehold, which is why it took me so long to write a follow-up! I really love him in this AU so there may be more to come.

“Okay, now that we’re done laughing at Shigaraki, first things first —”

“Laughing at Tomura-kun is the first thing,” Toga says. Dabi glares at her. “Don’t make that face! If I was singing love duets through the wall with my neighbor, you guys would never let me live it down.”

“Nobody gets to live that down. That is not cool band guy behavior,” Twice announces from behind the drum set. Then, like always, he changes his tune. “Don’t worry, Shigaraki! I think it’s sweet!”

“I think we should never talk about it again,” Tomura mutters. He turns to Dabi. “You were saying something, right?”

“Yeah,” Dabi says. “First things first. Does anybody have any new songs?”

The band always needs new songs, and everyone’s supposed to bring one to practice. In theory they should always have something cooking. In reality, they get a new song maybe every six practices, and only some of those are good. They’d be better if anybody liked taking feedback on their lyrics. But they don’t.

“I have one,” Spinner says, “but —”

“Is it about being a true artist and not whoring yourself out to the Spotify algorithm?” Dabi doesn’t wait for an answer. “No.”

“We could use it if we metaphor it a bit,” Spinner protests. He passes a piece of paper to Tomura. “Look.”

Tomura scans the lyrics. He likes some of Spinner’s phrasing, and the song structure works, but he can see a few too many lines about standing apart from the machine. And Spinner’s not the only one who writes like that. “Why don’t we just do a whole LP around that? Give it some characters and a plotline and then it’s not just an album. It’s a story arc.”

“You think we can pull that off?” Toga looks up, interested. “What about a love story?”

“No.”

“Hey, that could work!” Twice taps the kick drum for emphasis. “Like, think about it! The protagonists are falling in love amidst the machines and then they have to defeat them if they want to be together!”

“There’s no way we can pull that off,” Tomura says. Twice ignores him, and he looks to Dabi for help. “If we’re going to do a concept album, let’s do an album about a concept we actually understand.”

“Nobody’s going to listen to us if we’re just complaining about the system,” Dabi says. “We need a hook. The love story’s a hook.”

“Then one of us had better figure out how to write love songs,” Spinner says. “Because we all kind of suck at it.”

Dabi looks like he’s thinking about it, and Tomura wonders, like he does every so often, why he decided to let Dabi project-manage the band he started. “Okay,” Dabi says finally. “We’re calling practice for today. No more practice until everybody has at least one song to share.”

“Oh, come on —”

“How much of a song do we need to have?” Toga interrupts Tomura.

“At least two verses and a chorus. Instrumentation optional,” Dabi decides. There goes Tomura’s plan to weasel out of this by coming up with a melody and chord progression and calling it good. “Text the group chat when you’ve got something.”

Everybody else starts packing up their instruments, like this is settled or something. Tomura came up with the stupid concept album idea. He’s the one who has to put the brakes on. “We can’t just not practice,” he says. “We have shows booked next month.”

“So you’d better get writing, then.”

“Yeah. More writing, less singing to your neighbor through the wall,” Spinner says. Tomura glares at him. “Maybe you can write a song about that.”

Tomura will write a song about that when hell freezes over. But he needs to write something, or the band’s not going to practice at all before their first gigs of the school year. A concept album about humans falling in love while standing up to the machine or the man or whatever. This is going to be a nightmare.

When Tomura gets home, his neighbors are just as noisy as ever, except for you. You’re quiet. Are you even home? Tomura tries to write, but it’s hard to focus when he’s so busy listening. He’s still not sure if you heard him singing along with you, but what if you did, and you got so embarrassed that you’re never going to sing again? If someone had told Tomura this morning that he’d be upset that one of his neighbors wasn’t making noise, he’d have told them they were out of their mind.

And then he hears it, just past midnight — quiet humming from the other side of the wall, a tune that’s vaguely familiar. This time, when the words pick up, Tomura doesn’t sing along. He just listens as you mumble your way through the first verse of The Last Shadow Puppets’ Miracle Aligner. “Often the humble kind, but he can’t deny he was born to blow your mind — or something along those lines —”

It’s not Tomura’s favorite song from that band, but given that you like the band enough to get their songs stuck in your head, your taste in music is at least decent. Tomura won’t be able to decide if it’s actually good until he hears you sing a few more songs. And speaking of a few more songs — Tomura picks up his pen again and scrawls out a single lyric across the top of the page. Screw a concept album, for now at least. He just has to start somewhere.

One lyric turns into another, turns into a verse and the start of a chorus. Tomura writes until two am, your voice brushing softly against his ear.

[gnstay]

More Than Friends

Summary: Namgyu, typically confident, struggles with jealousy as his feelings for his friend Y/N deepen. Once alone, he confesses his desire to be more than friends, and to his relief, Y/N reciprocates his feelings. Both ready to explore and commit to a romantic relationship together.

Warnings: Jealousy, emotional tension, unspoken romantic feelings, etc!

Characters: Namgyu x F! Reader *Y/N*

Now Playing… more than friends - Isabel LaRosa

0:00 ─〇───── 15:00

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Namgyu had always been the cool, confident one in your friend group—effortlessly charming, effortlessly talented. But when it came to you, all of that confidence seemed to crumble.

It had started as a simple crush, something he thought would fade. But it never did. Every time you smiled at him, every time you laughed at one of his dumb jokes, his heart betrayed him.

And now, as he sat across the classroom, watching another guy—some random classmate of yours—lean in just a little too close while talking to you, Namgyu felt his blood simmer with quiet frustration.

“You okay?” his friend — Thanos nudged him, snapping him out of his intense staring.

Namgyu forced a smile. “Yeah. Just…thinking.”

Thinking about how that guy had no business making you laugh like that. Thinking about how much he hated the way your eyes sparkled when you were enjoying the conversation. That was supposed to be his thing.

He gritted his teeth when the guy casually placed a hand on top of your hand. That was it.

Pushing back his chair, Namgyu stood up. He walked over to you, placing a firm yet casual hand on your shoulder. “Hey, Y/N. We should get going, right? We have that thing to do.”

You blinked in confusion. “What thi—?”

“The thing,” he emphasized, giving you a look that screamed just go with it.

You tilted your head but decided to play along. “Oh! Right, that thing. I almost forgot.”

The guy you were talking to frowned. “Oh, well, I guess I’ll see you later then?”

Namgyu didn’t even give him a chance to linger. “Yeah, see you,” he said, practically dragging you out of the desk and classroom.

Once outside, you turned to him with a teasing grin. “Namgyu, what was that? Are you jealous?”

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Me? Jealous? No way. I just—he was annoying, that’s all.”

You stepped closer, tilting your head. “You were jealous.”

Namgyu sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. Maybe a little.” His voice softened, eyes flickering to yours. “I just don’t like seeing other guys getting too close to you.”

You looked up, surprised with his comment. “What do you mean, Namgyu?”

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something. I… I like you. More than friends.”

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. “Namgyu… I’ve always liked you more than a friend, too.”

Namgyu felt his heart race, his fingers tightening around yours. Maybe jealousy wasn’t so bad after all—if it finally led him to this moment.

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The air between you and Namgyu felt different now. Lighter, yet charged with an unspoken intensity. His confession had unraveled something between you—something that had been waiting for far too long.

You held each other, a moment of laughter suddenly arising. Namgyu’s hand brushed against yours, hesitant, uncertain.

“So…” he started, voice softer than usual. “Are we really doing this?”

You smiled, squeezing his fingers before lacing them together with yours. “I think we’ve always been doing this. We just never said it out loud.”

His gaze flickered to your joined hands, a small, almost disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. “I still can’t believe you like me back.”

You nudged his shoulder playfully. “What’s so unbelievable about it?”

“I just…” He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. “I always thought I’d be stuck in the ‘best friend’ category forever.”

You tilted your head, stepping closer. “Namgyu, I was waiting for you to say something. If you didn’t, I might’ve had to make the first move.”

His eyes widened slightly before he chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I almost missed my chance.” His voice dropped to something softer, more serious. “I don’t want to mess this up, Y/N.”

“You won’t,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand. “We’ll figure it out together.”

A pause stretched between you before Namgyu exhaled, as if letting go of whatever last bits of doubt he had been holding onto. “So, does this mean I can call you my girlfriend now?”

Your heart fluttered at the words. “Only if I get to call you my boyfriend.”

His grin widened before, in a sudden burst of confidence, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I like the sound of that.”

You laughed, leaning in to kiss him. “Me too.”

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[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Marilyn Monroe: a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 11: Waffles..

February 28th, 2025 11:21 AM

The scent of fresh blueberry waffles and turkey bacon filled the kitchen as Rhea moved around with quiet focus. She had just finished changing the bandages on her face and hands, the aching sting still lingering as she worked. The griddle sizzled as she flipped another waffle, the comforting rhythm of cooking keeping her mind occupied.

Liv walked in, still dressed in her sleepwear, her blonde hair slightly messy as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She yawned before adding creamer, stirring it lazily before taking a sip.

“Morning,” Liv greeted, settling into one of the chairs at the table.

Rhea glanced over her shoulder, offering a small smile. “Morning.”

Liv took another sip of her coffee before setting it down. “So… how was last night?”

Rhea kept her back turned as she plated the waffle, her response coming a little too quickly. “It was fine. Jey left a little bit after you fell asleep.”

Liv rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “Okay, whatever you say.”

“It’s true,” Rhea insisted, bringing her plate to the table.

Liv leaned back, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Mhm. I think I had to put on my noise-canceling earplugs after the second orgasm.”

Rhea nearly choked on air, her face heating up instantly. “Liv!”

Liv laughed, completely entertained by Rhea’s reaction. “Oh, Jey! Please don’t stop! Go deeper baby please!” she mockingly gasped, exaggerating a dramatic moan.

Rhea buried her face in her hands, groaning. “I hate you.”

“No, you love me.” Liv grinned before reaching out. “Come here.”

Rhea hesitated, then set her plate down and walked over. She slid into the chair across from Liv, eyes lowering slightly as Liv took her hands into her own, her thumbs brushing over the fresh bandages.

“I know you’re not supposed to have relationships because of your treatment plan,” Liv started, her voice gentle but firm. “And I know what happened with… well, you know who.” She exhaled, squeezing Rhea’s hands lightly. “But seeing you with Jey… it’s like I was seeing my best friend again.”

Rhea blinked, her throat tightening.

“So,” Liv continued, tilting her head, “I’ll allow this relationship—”

Rhea’s head snapped up. “Allow?”

Liv rolled her eyes. “Yes, allow. On one condition.”

Rhea swallowed. “What?”

“You keep going to your support groups, and you take your meds like you’re supposed to.” Liv gave her a pointed look. “No skipping, no excuses. If I see you slipping, I’m telling the social worker about what happened yesterday.”

Rhea sat there for a long moment, processing Liv’s words. Then, she nodded. “Okay.”

Liv smiled. “Good. Now, eat your damn waffles before they get cold.”

Rhea laughed as she took a bite of her waffle, savoring the sweet blueberries mixed with the warmth of the syrup. She looked over at Liv, who was still nursing her coffee. “You’re not gonna eat one?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Liv shrugged, taking another sip. “Maybe after this coffee. But how about we do this?”

Rhea tilted her head, intrigued. “Hmm?”

Liv set her mug down and leaned forward slightly. “Do you want to go to the Pérez Art Museum? We can invite Jey.”

Rhea’s face lit up, excitement flashing in her eyes. “Really?”

Liv grinned at her reaction. “Yeah. But first things first… we have to head to Verizon.”

Rhea blinked, confused. “For what?”

Liv gave her a pointed look. “Honey… your phone.”

Rhea’s mouth fell open slightly before realization dawned on her. “Oh, yeah. That’s right.”

Liv chuckled. “Mhm. And another thing—Raquel’s coming back tomorrow night after the PLE, so let’s get you some time with your little boyfriend before my little storm cloud starts asking questions.”

Rhea smiled, warmth filling her chest at the gesture. She reached across the table, squeezing Liv’s hand. “Thank you, Liv… really. Thank you.”

Liv squeezed back, offering a smirk. “You’re welcome. Now hurry up and eat, we’ve got a day planned.”

—

Meanwhile, Jon’s grip tightened on the phone as his conversation with Raquel grew more intense. “She is not a part of my brother’s treatment plan,” Jon stated, his voice sharp. “There’s no reason for them to be dating each other, much less having relations.” His words hung in the air, heavy with frustration.

Raquel responded calmly but with an undercurrent of tension. “I understand. My wife didn’t inform me that Jey had gone over to our apartment.”

Jon sighed deeply, trying to remain composed. “I trust you will speak with her social worker about this. It needs to stop now. I’m not going to let her ruin Jey’s progress.”

Raquel’s voice grew firmer. “And I’m not going to let him ruin Rhea’s progress.”

Jon didn’t reply immediately, the words settling uneasily in his chest. “Then it’s settled,” he said, his voice colder now, before hanging up.

Trinity, who had been standing silently by the door, watched the entire conversation unfold. Her arms were crossed, her eyes narrowed in concern. As the call ended, she couldn’t keep her thoughts to herself. “You really don’t see it, do you?” she muttered, her voice tinged with frustration.

Jon turned, a look of disbelief on his face. “See what?”

Trinity rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You’re so fixated on controlling everything, Jon. You don’t even understand the connection they have. They like each other—so what if they do? They are genuinely happy, and they want to be in each other’s lives. They want love and intimacy, something they were both robbed of at such a crucial time.”

Jon clenched his jaw, his tone sharp. “Have you forgotten about all the times we stopped Jey from ending his life?”

“I never forget,” Trinity snapped back, her frustration growing. “But Rhea is not the problem here. If anything, she is preventing it!”

Her words stung, and Jon’s patience finally broke. “I’m trying not to cause an eighth suicide attempt, thank you very much!” His voice cracked with emotion, a raw edge to his tone.

Trinity shot him a glare, her voice rising in anger. “Rhea is not causing it! She’s saving him, Jon! You’re too blind to see that.”

As the argument between them escalated, the heated words bounced off the walls. In Jey’s room, the noise grew louder and more intense. He sat on his bed, his hands pressed firmly over his ears, his breathing shallow. It was a defense mechanism he’d developed as a child and carried with him into adulthood—an attempt to block out the chaos around him. His mind raced, but the outside world felt so distant now, muffled and far away.

The yelling continued downstairs, but Jey remained cocooned in his own silent space.

“SO THAT'S IT THEN, HUH?” Trinity's voice was loud and cutting, filled with hurt and disbelief. She stood at the bottom of the stairs, her body tense with frustration as she looked at Jon. "You're just going to shut him out like this? After everything he's been through?"

Jon's face remained hard, his expression unyielding as he stood in place. "I told you time and time again," he said, his voice colder now. "He is sticking to his treatment plan, and that's it."

Trinity let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head.

"Did you even see him these last few months on that fucking plan?!" Her voice cracked with emotion. "He was a ghost, Jon! You wouldn't even recognize the man he became!" She took a step closer, her eyes filled with anger and desperation.

"And now... AND FUCKING NOW, he's turning into himself again, Jon! He's coming back to life. He's healing. But you're too focused on controlling his treatment to see it!"

Jon stayed silent, his jaw clenched tightly as the weight of her words sank in. He wasn't ready to face the reality of what she was saying, so he let the silence hang between them like a thick fog.

Trinity shook her head, her voice laced with bitterness. "Stay the fuck away from me today, Jon. And sleep on the fucking couch tonight. Because I don't want to see you." She took a few steps back, her body trembling with emotion as she turned away from him.

Jon opened his mouth, but no words came out. It was as if her words had knocked the wind out of him, leaving him speechless and unsure of what to say next.

Trinity stopped just before heading upstairs, turning her head slightly to glance back at him.

Her eyes, filled with sorrow, pierced through the air like daggers. "It seems like you care more about what happened to our wrestling careers than why your brother was sexually assaulted in the first place," she said, her voice soft but cutting.

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken, and they struck Jon harder than any physical blow could. He didn't respond. He couldn't. The weight of her accusation was too much.

Trinity walked away, heading up the stairs and toward the master bedroom. She slammed the door shut behind her and locked it, her chest heaving with anger and hurt. The sound of the lock turning echoed through the house, leaving Jon standing in the silence, the tension between them hanging in the air like an unspoken ultimatum.

Jon stared at the closed door from down the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest. He was torn-torn between his need to protect his brother, his anger at the situation, and the overwhelming feeling that he was losing everything he cared about.

—

2:14 PM

The Verizon rep handed Liv the sleek new phone with a smile. “Here you go, Mrs. Daddio-Gonzalez, your brand new iPhone 16 Pro Max.”

Liv chuckled and passed it to Rhea with a wink. “Don’t say I don’t love you,” she teased.

Rhea grinned, feeling a wave of excitement as she took the phone into her hands. It felt like a fresh start, and for the first time in a long while, it felt good to have something new, something to look forward to. She unlocked the phone with a swipe, her fingers quickly navigating to her photos. The first thing she did was set her lock screen— a screenshot she’d taken during a late-night FaceTime call with Jey. They had been making goofy faces, laughing uncontrollably, and Jey’s warm smile lit up the screen. He looked so handsome, and it made Rhea’s heart flutter just thinking about him.

With the phone set up, Liv and Rhea walked out of the Verizon store together, chatting and laughing. Liv shot her a playful glance. “Well, go ahead and call Jey, see what he’s up to. Maybe we can pick him up or he can meet us there?”

Rhea nodded, already dialing his number. The phone rang a few times before Jey answered, his voice immediately bringing a smile to her face.

“Hey, babe,” Rhea greeted, holding the phone up to her ear as they walked down the sidewalk. “I got a new phone, and I was wondering if me and Liv can get you to come join us at the art museum?”

Liv watched as Rhea spoke to Jey, her eyes brightening when Rhea laughed at something he said. After a moment, Rhea nodded, confirming plans. “Okay, perfect! We’ll see you there in twenty minutes?”

Liv grinned and bumped Rhea’s shoulder lightly. “Alright, well, let’s make our way!”

Rhea’s heart felt light as they walked towards the car. The last few days had been a whirlwind of emotions, but in this moment, everything felt right. She was happy. She was excited for what was ahead. With Jey by her side, even if only for a short while today, it was all worth it.

Rhea and Liv arrived at the Pérez Art Museum, the drive feeling like a much-needed escape from the chaos of the past few days. The sun was shining, the air was crisp, and for a while, everything felt calm. They paid for parking, walked to the entrance, and found a bench outside the museum to wait for Jey. They chatted casually as they waited, the excitement for the day ahead keeping their spirits high.

But as the minutes ticked by, Rhea’s excitement began to wane. Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly as they continued to wait, glancing down the street for any sign of Jey. Forty-five minutes went by, then an hour.

Liv, sensing the growing tension in Rhea, looked at her watch and raised an eyebrow. “Call him, see where he’s at?” she suggested, her voice laced with concern.

Rhea nodded, pulling out her phone to dial Jey’s number once again. She held the phone to her ear, waiting for the familiar sound of his voice, but instead, the call went straight to voicemail. Frowning, Rhea tried again, but the outcome was the same. A sinking feeling began to settle in her chest.

“Where is he?” Rhea muttered, her anxiety creeping in. She pulled up her messages and tried to send him a text, but as soon as she saw the message bubble turn green instead of blue, her heart skipped a beat.

“He blocked me?” Rhea whispered in disbelief, staring at her phone as if it were an illusion. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

Liv immediately took the phone from Rhea’s hands, trying to dial Jey’s number herself. But it didn’t work. The call wouldn’t even go through.

“Maybe his phone died,” Liv suggested, trying to offer some comfort. “I’ll call Trinity.” She quickly pulled out her own phone, tapping the number with urgency.

But as soon as the call connected, Liv’s face fell. The phone rang, then rang some more, before eventually going to voicemail. Liv’s expression darkened.

“Shit. Her phone’s off too,” Liv muttered, her concern deepening.

Rhea looked at Liv, a sense of dread settling over her. “What’s going on, Liv? Why is no one answering?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. The uncertainty, the unknown, was beginning to feel suffocating.

Liv reached out to squeeze Rhea’s hand in reassurance. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Maybe it’s nothing… maybe they’re just busy. Let’s not jump to conclusions.” But even she couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in her gut that something wasn’t right.

Liv tried calling again, but once more, the phone went unanswered. She let out a long sigh, frustration and concern mixing in her expression. “Do you want to get some food instead, or just go home?” she asked, her voice soft, trying to keep things light.

Rhea didn’t respond immediately. She stared at her phone in her hands, her fingers tracing the edges absentmindedly. Her mind raced, the confusion and the hurt from earlier beginning to weigh heavily on her. Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet, almost defeated. “I just want to go home.”

Liv immediately sensed the sadness in her tone. “Okay, honey, come on,” she said gently, wrapping an arm around Rhea’s shoulders and guiding her back toward the car. They didn’t speak much on the way back to the apartment, the silence between them filled with unspoken words and unanswered questions.

When they arrived, Rhea was the first to walk in, her steps slow and hesitant. She made her way to the couch and sat down, her body slumping as she let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, the unanswered calls and blocked messages haunting her thoughts.

Liv stood in the doorway for a moment, watching Rhea with a concerned expression. She tried to break the tension with a lighthearted suggestion. “How about I DoorDash some Burger King cookies and milkshakes, and we just watch some more Marilyn movies?” she said, her attempt at distraction clear.

But Rhea didn’t respond with the usual smile or playful banter. Instead, her voice trembled as she asked, “Did he use me too?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and filled with hurt. Rhea’s eyes welled up with tears, her vulnerability spilling out as she looked at Liv for answers she couldn’t quite articulate. The pain she had been carrying, the uncertainty about her relationship with Jey, the confusion about everything that had happened—it all came flooding to the surface.

Liv crossed the room in an instant, her arms wrapping around Rhea in a tight hug. She didn’t need to say anything—she just held her friend, offering the comfort of her presence in a moment when words felt insufficient.

Rhea’s breath hitched as she clung to Liv, her tears soaking into Liv’s shirt. “I thought… I thought he really cared about me,” Rhea whispered, her voice barely audible through the tears. “But now… now I don’t know. I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

Liv gently stroked Rhea’s hair, her voice soothing as she whispered, “You don’t have to figure it all out right now. But I’m here for you, okay? You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Rhea nodded, her tears slowly starting to quiet, though the hurt in her chest remained. She wasn’t sure where to go from here, or what would happen next. But for now, she had Liv, and that was enough to help her breathe through the uncertainty.

—

Jey was sitting on the edge of his bed, his hands trembling slightly as he handed over his phone, laptop, and iPad to Jon. He had just tried to leave by sneaking out to go see Rhea at the museum and Jon had caught him. His eyes were filled with a mixture of anger and helplessness, the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

Jon, his expression stern and unwavering, took the devices from Jey with a quiet sense of authority. “This is for your own good,” Jon said, his voice low but firm. “You are not to see that girl anymore, no more car, no more access to the credit cards, no more outings unless attended by me.”

Jey’s jaw clenched as he listened to Jon’s words, the suffocating weight of them pressing down on him. But Jon wasn’t finished. “Since I missed this PLE for something like this to happen, I’m taking the next two weeks off. Trinity is finally getting booked for a Women’s World Title match and—”

“I DON’T FUCKING CARE ABOUT WRESTLING ANYMORE, MAN!” Jey erupted, his voice cracking with raw emotion. The words hung in the air, thick with frustration and hurt. Jon stopped mid-sentence, caught off guard by the outburst, but Jey wasn’t done.

“I GET IT! I RUINED THE FAMILY NAME BY SPEAKING UP! I GET IT THAT DAD AND MOM DISOWNED US FROM THE FAMILY!” Jey’s voice rose with each word, the pain evident in every syllable. He stood up abruptly, his fists clenched by his sides as he faced Jon. “BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN BE MY DAD!”

Jon’s eyes flashed with a mix of disappointment and concern, but he didn’t react immediately. He stood still, letting the silence hang for a moment before responding. His voice was steady, despite the hurt he felt. “Sit here and think about what you’ve done.”

Jey didn’t respond, his chest heaving as the tension in the room thickened. Jon held the devices tightly in his hands as he walked toward the door. The quiet click of the door closing behind him was like a signal to the weight of the situation sinking in.

Inside the room, Jey remained standing, his mind racing, the conflict between wanting to be free and being trapped by his own mistakes a constant battle in his thoughts. He felt isolated, misunderstood, as if the walls were closing in around him with every passing moment.

Jon’s steps were heavy as he made his way to the guest bedroom. His mind was still reeling from Jey’s outburst, the weight of it pressing on him like a constant ache in his chest. The devices felt heavy in his hands, the responsibility of what they represented sinking deeper into his bones. He slid them beneath the mattress, the familiar motion feeling like a small act of finality.

His eyes wandered to the crib in the corner of the room, its soft colors a peaceful object to the storm raging inside him. The sight of it, meant for a future he had once imagined with excitement, now felt like a painful reminder of everything that had gone wrong.

Jon walked toward the crib, his fingers brushing lightly over the wooden slats. He closed his eyes for a moment, the memories flooding back, unbidden and sharp. He remembered Trinity’s frantic cry when she found Jey that night, the panic in her voice as she screamed his name.

He could still hear the way her breath hitched when she saw Jey in the bathtub, lifeless and covered in blood. He could still see the way her hands shook as she called 911, her voice shaking with desperation.

Jey’s fifth attempt. The memory of it would never leave him. There had been so much blood, so much uncertainty. It was like the world had stopped in that moment, the fear too thick to breathe through.

And then, just as they were taking Jey to the hospital, just as Jon had been trying to hold it together, that was when Trinity had collapsed. Jon’s heart had skipped a beat as he’d turned to see his wife crumpling to the floor.

The doctors had been clear—stress had ended her pregnancy. The baby, their baby, hadn’t made it past 22 weeks. Jon could still hear the doctor’s words echoing in his mind. It was rare, unheard of, for the stress to cause such an early loss. But the shock and grief of that night had torn through Trinity, and the result was devastating.

Jon felt his throat tighten at the memory. He could still see the pain in Trinity’s eyes when the doctor confirmed it—her dream of being a mom had been shattered in an instant. It had been too much to bear. The weight of both Jey’s suicide attempt and the miscarriage had been more than anyone should have to endure, and yet here they were, struggling to hold onto each other as their world crumbled around them.

Jon stood there in silence, his hand resting on the crib as he tried to make sense of the chaos that had become their lives. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t have the answers. He had no way to fix any of this.

A sharp pang of guilt pierced through him as he thought of Trinity, her quiet grief, her exhaustion. She had been through so much. He could still feel the weight of her loss on his shoulders, the burden of trying to be the strong one for both of them.

He finally pulled his hand away from the crib, wiping a tear that had unknowingly fallen from his eye. With one last look at the crib, he turned to leave the room, his steps heavy as he headed back down the hall.

The weight of what they had lost still hung over them all, and no matter how hard he tried to protect his family, it felt like the past would always haunt them.

Jon made his way downstairs to the kitchen, the familiar small sounds of the house around him. He opened the fridge and began pulling out the ingredients to make himself a sandwich. It was one of those rare quiet moments, and he needed it. His mind was a swirl of everything he had been dealing with, but he hoped this would be a small moment of peace.

As he grabbed the bread from the counter, his phone suddenly rang, breaking the stillness. He glanced at the screen, seeing the name Mr. Vasquez, his lawyer. Jon’s stomach dropped, knowing that the call couldn’t mean anything good. He wiped his hands on his pants quickly and answered the call.

“Hello, Mr. Vasquez,” Jon said, trying to keep his voice neutral.

The DA’s voice came through, urgent and businesslike. “Jon, we have a bit of a problem.”

Jon’s brow furrowed, sensing the gravity in the tone. “What’s going on?” he asked, his mind racing.

The DA continued, his words quick and to the point. “Jey’s case has been moved to this Wednesday.”

Jon stopped in his tracks, feeling a sharp pang of stress. “Why so early?!” he asked, frustration seeping into his voice.

The DA’s response was calm, but Jon could hear the pressure in his words. “The judge has seen the evidence, and they want to get the trial started ASAP. This isn’t something that can wait.”

Jon’s heart pounded as he processed the information. “This Wednesday? That’s… that’s too soon,” Jon suttered under his breath. He hadn’t expected the case to move that quickly. His mind immediately flashed to all the preparations they still had to make. “We weren’t ready for this.”

The DA sighed, a note of sympathy in his voice. “I know it’s a lot, but we don’t have much time. The judge is pushing for the earliest possible start. You’ll need to gather everything, make sure you’re prepared. It’s going to be intense, Jon.”

Jon ran a hand over his face, trying to ground himself in the chaos. “Alright. I’ll get everything together. We’ll be ready,” he said, though the words felt hollow. The sudden speed of the trial was a shock, and he knew they had little time to prepare for the coming onslaught.

“Good,” the DA replied, before quickly adding, “We’ll touch base before the trial starts, but make sure you’ve got everything lined up.”

Jon ended the call and stood there in silence for a moment, his mind racing. He glanced down at the sandwich ingredients still scattered across the counter, completely uninterested in them now. The weight of the situation—Jey’s trial, the family’s struggles—was more than he could bear in that moment.

Without another word, he set the phone down and walked back upstairs to his brother’s room. He had to prepare. There was no time to waste. The trial was just days away, and everything was about to change again.

Jon exhaled deeply as he ascended the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. He didn’t want to do this, but he had to. There was no other choice.

Reaching Jey’s bedroom door, he hesitated for a brief moment before knocking. When no response came, he opened the door and stepped inside. Jey sat on the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees, staring blankly at the floor. He barely acknowledged Jon’s presence.

Jon ran a hand over his face before speaking. “We need to talk.”

Jey scoffed under his breath but didn’t lift his gaze. “What now?”

Jon clenched his jaw, trying to keep his patience. “Your case—it’s happening this Wednesday.”

Jey’s head snapped up. His bloodshot eyes widened slightly, but his expression remained unreadable. “What?”

“The judge moved it up,” Jon explained. “They want to get it started as soon as possible.”

Jey let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. “Of course, they do.” He rubbed his face, his fingers digging into his temples. “So what? You’re here to tell me how I need to be on my best behavior? How I need to stick to the plan?”

Jon sighed. “I’m telling you so you can be prepared. This isn’t something you can ignore, Jey. You’re going to have to face it.”

Jey’s jaw tensed, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, in a quiet, exhausted voice, he muttered, “I don’t know if I can.”

Jon’s heart clenched at his brother’s admission, but he kept his tone firm. “You can,” he insisted. “And you will. Because this isn’t just about you. It’s about making sure that bastard doesn’t get away with what he did.”

Jey swallowed hard, his breathing uneven. He looked away, staring at the wall as if trying to find an escape.

Jon took a step closer. “You’re not alone in this, Joshua. No matter what you think, I’m still here.”

Jey didn’t respond, but Jon saw the slightest flicker of emotion in his eyes. He didn’t push further. Instead, he placed a reassuring hand on Jey’s shoulder before turning and walking out of the room, leaving his brother to process the weight of what was coming.

—

Rhea and Liv sat on the couch, the glow of the television illuminating their faces as Some Like It Hot played in the background. The aroma of warm chocolate chip cookies filled the apartment, mixing with the rich scent of their milkshakes. Liv still DoorDashed the treats, determined to distract Rhea from everything that had happened that day—from Jey blocking her, from the lingering heartache, from the confusion that was eating away at her.

Rhea sat curled up in the corner of the couch, lazily dipping her cookie into her milkshake before taking a bite. She wasn’t fully focused on the movie, though. Her mind kept drifting, replaying the unanswered calls, the texts that failed to go through. Why would he do that? Why now? She had been so happy just hours ago, and now everything felt like it had crumbled in an instant.

Liv, on the other hand, was doing everything in her power to keep her best friend distracted. She laughed at the film’s comedic moments, nudging Rhea playfully whenever a particularly funny scene happened. Rhea forced small smiles in return, but the cloud hanging over her was unmistakable.

Then, Liv’s phone rang.

She grabbed it from the coffee table and glanced at the screen. Her stomach twisted when she saw the name: Mr. Vasquez. The DA.

Liv inhaled sharply and immediately stood up, walking towards her bedroom before answering. “Hello?” she said, closing the door behind her.

“Mrs. Daddio-Gonzalez,” Mr. Vasquez’s voice came through, steady and professional. “I’m calling to inform you that Rhea’s case against her third attacker has been moved up. It will be the first to go to trial, starting this Wednesday.”

Liv’s breath hitched. “Wednesday?” she repeated, gripping her phone tighter. “That’s in three days. Why so soon?”

“The judge reviewed the evidence and decided it was best to push forward as quickly as possible,” Mr. Vasquez explained. “This is happening, and we need to make sure Rhea is ready.”

Liv swallowed, nodding to herself even though he couldn’t see her. “Understood,” she said, her voice quieter now.

“I know this is a lot to process, but I’ll be in touch soon with more details. We’ll need to go over testimony prep as soon as possible.”

Liv forced herself to stay composed. “Alright. Thank you for letting me know.”

She ended the call and stood there in silence, her mind racing. The walls of the bedroom suddenly felt too small, the air too thin. Her hands were trembling slightly, and she rubbed her knees in an attempt to ground herself.

This was happening. Whether they were ready or not, Rhea’s case was about to begin. And Liv had no idea how to break the news to her best friend.

Liv’s heart pounded as she glanced toward the living room where Rhea was still curled up on the couch, absentmindedly dipping a cookie into her milkshake.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way back to the living room. “Rhea,” she called gently.

Rhea looked up, her eyes a little dazed from the movie. “Yeah?”

Liv hesitated for a second before sitting next to her. She reached for Rhea’s hand, rubbing small circles over her skin. “I just got off the phone with Mr. Vasquez,” she began carefully.

At the mention of his name, Rhea tensed. “And?”

Liv exhaled. “Your case… the one against your third attacker. It’s been moved up. It’s happening this Wednesday.”

Rhea’s entire body went rigid. The cookie she held slipped from her fingers, dropping onto her lap, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her breathing hitched, her chest rising and falling faster. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, no, no, no. It’s too soon. I’m not ready. I— I can’t do this, Liv.”

Liv immediately scooted closer, wrapping an arm around her. “Hey, hey, breathe, babe,” she urged, but Rhea’s breaths were becoming more erratic, shallow and panicked.

Rhea clutched at her chest, her fingers digging into her own skin as if trying to ground herself. The room felt smaller, suffocating, the walls closing in. Her vision blurred at the edges, her body trembling as memories she had fought to suppress rushed to the surface. The feeling of his hands, the helplessness, the pain—

“I can’t—I can’t—” Rhea gasped, her throat constricting. Her hands flew to her head as if she could physically push the memories away.

Liv moved in front of her, cupping Rhea’s face gently. “Look at me, Rhea. Just look at me,” she pleaded. “You’re safe. You’re here, with me. Focus on my voice. Just breathe with me, okay? In for four, hold for four, out for four.”

Rhea tried, but her lungs felt too tight, her heart hammering against her ribs. Tears streamed down her face as her body shook uncontrollably.

Liv refused to let go. “That man doesn’t have power over you anymore. He can’t hurt you. You’re not there, you’re here. You are here with me,” she repeated firmly.

After what felt like forever, Rhea forced herself to match Liv’s breathing. In, hold, out. Slowly, her body began to relax, though the tears kept falling.

Liv pulled her into a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly. “I got you,” she whispered. “No matter what happens Wednesday, you’re not alone. I got you, Rhea. I swear.”

Rhea clung to Liv, her breaths still shaky but no longer erratic. She closed her eyes, trying to anchor herself in the warmth of her best friend’s embrace.

This was beginning..

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone: Chapter 4

Angy Damian is so much fun to draw. He does not appreciate his family booking a birthday party at the off brand chuck e cheese that is The Fun Zone

Danny had seen some chaotic birthday parties in his time at The Fun Zone, but this one took the cake—and he wasn’t even exaggerating. The group that had just walked in seemed like a random collection of mismatched personalities: a cocky black haired guy, a towering dad-type who was trying way too hard to be casual, a snarky girl in a leather jacket, a small scowling kid who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, and—oh no, it was Tim again.

Danny adjusted his uniform and sighed, plastering on his best customer service smile. “Welcome to The Fun Zone. Are you here for laser tag, mini-golf, or just to add to my growing migraine?”

A man with stark black hair stepped forward, grinning like he owned the place. “We’re here for a birthday party!”

Danny blinked. “You booked it in advance, right?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” the guy said, brushing off the question with a wave. “It’s all taken care of.”

The scowling kid, who couldn’t have been older than twelve, crossed his arms. “Grayson, this is beneath me. I don’t need a childish party.”

“Oh, come on, Dami,” the guy—apparently named Grayson—said, ruffling the kid’s hair. “You’re going to love it. Laser tag, mini-golf, go-karts—it’s got everything!”

Damian swatted his hand away with a growl. “I said, stop calling me that.”

The girl in the leather jacket smirked. “Yeah, but the kid here’s turning twelve. We’re here to make sure he has the time of his life, whether he likes it or not.”

Danny gave her a skeptical look. “You sure he doesn’t prefer, like, a book club or chess tournament? He looks like he’d rather set this place on fire than play mini-golf.”

“I would,” Damian said flatly.

“Don’t listen to him,” Dick said, leaning on the counter. “We’re doing this. Can you, uh, set us up with the works?”

Danny sighed, grabbing a clipboard. “Fine. I’ll need the birthday kid’s name. And don’t tell me it’s Grumpy McFrownsalot.”

Dick laughed. “It’s Damian.”

Danny jotted the name down and handed him a stack of wristbands. “Great. Have fun, don’t break anything, and if you end up in a go-kart race, try not to ram into each other. You break it, you buy it.”

Dick beamed. “Thanks, man.”

An hour in, Danny regretted every life choice that led him to this moment.

Damian, the birthday kid, was terrifying. He played laser tag like he was training for actual war, and he refused to use the pre-loaded names on the scoreboard, insisting his codename be changed to Death’s Shadow. He also managed to hack into the system to change everyone else’s names to things like Grayson the Fool and Drake the Useless.

The girl—Steph, he’d heard someone call her—was running commentary on everything, laughing every time Damian destroyed someone in laser tag. “Dami’s ruthless! Look at that kill count!”

Tim, predictably, was trying to strategize, calling out team plays like this was some kind of black-ops mission. “Jason, cover the left flank! Dick, stop running in circles!”

Danny’s ears perked up at that. “Wait. Jason?” he muttered to himself, glancing over toward the go-karts.

Sure enough, Red Hood—his boss—was standing next to the track in civilian clothes, looking like he wanted to commit murder. He’d been dragged along under protest, and now he was stuck watching Dick and Tim throw Damian a party in what was technically his turf.

Danny sidled over, slapping on a grin. “Hey, boss. Didn’t know you did birthday parties.”

Jason scowled. “Don’t start with me, Fenton.”

Danny chuckled. “I mean, it’s kind of adorable. You’ve got the whole supportive older brother vibe going on.”

Jason groaned, rubbing his temples. “They’re doing this to piss me off. Dick knows this is my place.”

“Your boss’s place,” Danny corrected. To try to keep Hood's true identity safe from his supposed siblings? friends? Hell if Danny knows at this point. “And hey, the kid seems to be having fun. That’s worth something, right?”

They both glanced over to see Damian obliterating another group of kids in mini-golf, his precision terrifyingly perfect. Dick was cheering him on, and Steph was doubled over laughing at the chaos.

Jason sighed. “This is hell.”

By the end of the party, the Fun Zone looked like a war zone. Damian had won every single activity with brutal efficiency, leaving no survivors in laser tag, mini-golf, or go-karts. Dick had somehow convinced Danny to bring out the giant birthday sundae, which Damian reluctantly poked at while glaring at everyone like they’d personally insulted his honor.

As they were leaving, Dick clapped Danny on the shoulder. “Thanks for putting up with us. You’re a champ.”

“Yeah, well,” Danny said, yawning. “Just make sure you tip me enough to cover therapy.”

Dick laughed, handing him a suspiciously generous wad of cash. “Consider it done.”

As the door chimed shut behind them, Jason walked over, shaking his head. “If you tell anyone about this, you’re fired.”

Danny smirked. “Sure thing, boss. But you owe me hazard pay.”

[camellcat]

GIGGLING OMG YEAH xanya is so accurate. they WOULD talk about having sex outside of each other and then not mean a SINGLE word of it. anya's just looking for reassurance, and honestly so is xander. dumbasses <3 I love that they're still half-domestic though. that is perfect for them

yesss that time in l.a. is sooo important. it was buffy at her lowest for the first time ever, and she never reached a low that bad again until s6, she's hitting below rock bottom at this point. and sprusilla would remember how to live like this with her. they can navigate this together as well. oh it's silly but I just LOVE calling them her partners because they are they really are. partners in crime, the people who get her the best

AHHH augh ough guh ngk spike and wood...... that's. yes. ohhh

TARA yeah I didn't think we were gonna kill her again that was SO fucked up and unnecessary noooo thanks. good on her get the hell outta there tara girl. OO it'd be even worse if she were properly friends with buffy this time though. willow hears buffy on the phone and it's tara tiny voice on the receiver laughing at something buffy's said when she won't even speak to willow. and the rift grows wider...

calendiles fighting!!! yupp yupppp that's pretty much what I expected. though I think it might break my heart a little to see giles push perhaps even harder to try and get buffy to leave them since he's not the only adult figure she listens to now. cause I think he would. quietly, subtly, he would. there's a big moments like wood but in general I think he'd try and separate them because while he's free from the council he's about as bad as kendra was really he's just not as loud about it

HAHA omgggg the potentials. I'm gonna state straight up I really like who kennedy was SUPPOSED to be, at least in my head. I think she was at first REALLYYY resistant and nasty to the vamps, which also caused the other potentials to be even more cautious, but then probably darla has a one-on-one with her and she becomes like their biggest defenders. just like buff buff! I always thought kennedy would've been a greatttt second in command for buffy to help lead the potentials before she decided she didn't like buffy anymore, and I think the vamps would help keep her in line better. give her more people to look up to and listen to

also just the mental image of a big vamp cuddle puddle in the middle of a socal heat wave and buffy being able to snuggle in the center of all FOUR of her honeys without overheating ahhhhhhhhhh

!!!!!!!!!!! MY HEARRRTTTTT. oh. so sweet. that's definitely their de-stress time. one of the vamps will notice how run-down buffy is getting by these girls and will drag her upstairs to her room so she can be subjugated to the purr pile

okay thinking thinking thinking...

angel is once again the most mysterious to the potentials. he's not very openly affectionate with any of his partners outside of closed doors, so the girls don't really know what his deal is or why he's living in the house with them other than being a part of buffy's group. some of them would admit to having a crush on him, if he wasn't a vampire that is. one brave one does, and it's like a whole thing to the girls about seeing if she can actually get anywhere with him, until it's made clear just how NOT available angel is. feel free to imagine that however you like lol

spike is more of their friend, though he's not their equal and while girls sometimes forget that he doesn't. I think at first they'd be super wary and uncomfortable around dru, but just like with buffy, spike knows if they can just spend enough time around her to try and get to know her, she'll win them over. he and dru will listen to their gossip and play harmless pranks on the other adults to show the girls they've got someone who's listening to them. not that ANY of them come before his partners and the scoobies, but after training slayers for so long he knows they'll do better if they feel like someone is on their side

darla is buffy's right hand when it comes to managing the potentials. spike is there too of course to help with training, but it's darla who locks shit down once it starts to get serious. she's going to keep these girls alive. she's not nice about it, and her patience runs low with how many people there are to take care of, but she's the one the girls respect the most. kennedy practically worships the ground darla walks on. she wants to be just like dar. BIGGG crush on her instead of willow I'd think. bit of one-sided tension from kennedy to buffy again thanks to this, but darla is not tolerating it. they need kennedy focused if she wants to be in charge with them, and I think it's a short lived thing

drusilla is the most distant. she'll join them with spike if she feels like it, but for the most part she keeps to either her partners or the scoobies. she jumpscares them in the dark by accident since god knows dru has the strangest schedule out of all of them, though sometimes it's a little fun when it becomes common enough they're not genuinely scared of her anymore. she likes being apart of the girl's gossip. lots of tittering and exaggerated sympathy. it's a bit of play-acting for her, and she's having a great time

it's a bit like a million little buffys all over again, but I think the dynamics are justtt different enough that it's still interesting

theres an au somewhere in which the romani spellcaster that curses angelus doesnt just curse angelus, but rather curses every vampire of the aurelian line in a, say, twelve mile radius to get their soul back.

it's rough, especially for the first few years. spike's the weepiest, but angel takes it the hardest, oddly enough. dru's absolutely nutty over it, but she's always nuts, and anyway, having the three of them to wrangle gives darla something to focus on other than the weight of her sins. they manage.

(one thing she does is research what, exactly, has been done to them. when she finds out about the loophole - even a moment's happiness - there is a gut-lurching second where darla thinks to herself, i can end our agony. and then she thinks of her last kill, a young couple and their toddler. the father had begged darla to spare the little child's life, to take him instead. the mother had clawed at darla, covering her child with her body, screaming as she died.

rather than find that moment's happiness, darla begins new research, looking into ways to secure an immortal soul to a vampire's body permanently. closing the loop, as it were.)

spike eventually gets it into his head that he wants to do the slayer thing - not kill them, like he'd planned, but to help the poor girls. dru gives him the idea. angel leaves them, at that point, in the dead of night, without telling them where he's going. darla lets him go.

there's a girl in peking - xin, her name is, and she's understandably skeptical, but she accepts their help. they fight with her until she dies, a few months later, at the hands of an apocalypse. it breaks spike and dru quite badly - cuts spike's face up, too. darla gets them out, gets them back to europe. leaves them in italy. looks for angel.

she finds him eating rats in new york city, of all places. she shakes some sense into him and gets him some clean clothes, some blood, a place to sleep out of the sun. he's wallowing, which is to be expected, but how does he figure he's going to atone for his sins if he's rotting in the gutter like so much trash?

she's too practical, he tells her. he's too fucking dramatic, she tells him, and makes him eat some more pig's blood, cold.

darla tells him about spike and dru, what they've been up to these past few decades. he shudders when she tells him about xin, her throat ripped out by enemy fangs. angel's intrigued by the concept of helping slayers, but he confesses quietly to darla that he's not ready for that yet.

so they part ways again, with the understanding that they'll stay in touch. darla bounces around the americas, running into spike and dru - sometimes just dru, as spike is off chasing rumors of slayers - until the late 1990s, when she gets a call from angel.

angel's found a girl, and he wants to get the gang back together.

[pikachu-deluxe]

got an idea, any of y'all writers? if you'd want to write something stupid (could end up being good but i don't wnna set the bar too high) together, as in multiple people writing the same story kinda thing then reach out in the comments or something

would like to try this as an experiment maybe

[bixels]

The idea that uni protesters are "elitist ivy-league rich kids larping as revolutionaries" on Twitter and Reddit and even here is so fucking funny to me if you actually know anything about the student bodies at these unis. Take it from someone who's going to one of the biggest private unis in the US, 80% of the peers I know are either from the suburbs or an apartment somewhere in America, children of immigrants, or here on a student visa. I've heard about one-percenter students, but I've never met one in person. Like, don't get me wrong, the institution as a whole is still very privileged and white. I've talked with friends and classmates about feeling weird or dissonant being here and coming from such a different background. But in my art program, I see BIPOC, disabled, queer, lower-income students and faculty trying to deconstruct and tear that down and make space every day. So to take a cursory glance at a crowd of student protesters in coalitions that are led by BIPOC & 1st/2nd-gen immigrant students and HQ'd in ethnic housings and student organizations and say, "ah. children of the elite." Get real.

[starlooove]

Ok it’s not letting me like officially tag her but @camel-kong’s tags gave me the inch I needed to bitch about the au episode. Ppl talking about who died or what impacted it or what the real change was are blowing me bc the REAL au has to be that it’s a world where the council would care about a dead kid from zaun. I was talking to my brother about this and for the changes to be so significant the real alternate universe had to be that the explosion blew up the entire block and everyone in it and maybe a councilor was visiting that day if we’re stretching - bc ur telling me they stopped the production of hextech over jayce? Over VI! Like yes they weren’t aware of its true potential or whatever but even a weapon of that magnitude means more than one dead kid especially a dead kid from the UNDERCITY!! The au just doesn’t work for me bc it affords the council and piltover in general a benefit of the doubt that they not only haven’t earned - but have proven time and time again they don’t fucking deserve. Like it’s the equivalent of saying if politicians knew how bad poor poc felt they’d stop- like hello?

[clonerightsagenda]

Bujold: In a few generations there will be an entire planet full of telepathic men who hate women religiously.

Me: Elaborate on that

Bujold: No

[moongothic]

It is interesting though 'cause, since we have no fucking True Clue what the hell Crocodile's actual real End Goal with Cross Guild is right now (does he want to get One Piece and fight the Strawhats+Shanks, does he want to get Pluton from Wano (and/)or does he want to destroy the World Government?? We don't know), that we just have a fuck ton of theories on what could happen, but no way to really tell what the actual direction this entire plot thread is going to be

And one I've seen a lot of people suggest was Cross Guild recruiting more of the former (/OG) Shichibukai into their ranks

And I just find that idea so fucking interesting

Because this is where one needs to remember that Oda based the OG Shichibukai on the Seven Heroes from Romancing SaGa 2. The Seven Heroes were a legendary group who once in the past saved the world from a great evil (before disappearing and turning into an evil for the game's protags to defeat). Just reading the descriptions you can see how each of the OG Shichibukai match up to one of the heroes respectively. And the inspo would be fine and dandy by itself, like just some fun trivia about what inspired Oda. But the Seven Heroes were specifically created and lead by Wagnas, with Noel as his right-hand. Wagnas happens to be the character Crocodile matches up with, and Mihawk just happens to match up with Noel. And here we have Crocodile starting a new organization with Mihawk by his side, with unknown true goals. And we do have that one World Government that needs to get overthrown so the world can be "saved". So like.

Suddenly, the idea that Cross Guild could recruit some of the other former Shichibukai (to maybe help take down the World Government?) doesn't sound too out-landish at all

Especially because Moria alone is already like an actual contender for someone who could maybe join Cross Guild. Like, assuming he's alive and made it out of Fullalead with Perona. 'Cause with Absalom dead and Hogback gone with the wind, Moria should have like nothing else left but himself and Perona. And while knowing Moria he's going to be Very Happy about reuniting with Perona, like... where's he gonna go? What's he gonna do if the two escaped Fullalead? But because Perona and Mihawk already know each other, Perona could very easily become a bridge to getting Moria with CG, especially if he's still wounded etc from the escape, Perona would want her boss' to survive and she'd trust Mihawk to help probably. And god knows, if Blackbeard tried or even succeeded at stealing Moria's Fruit, the man could have some legit good intel on Blackbeard (and how he steals powers) that he could then share with CG, something Crocodile could appreciate. Also, if Crocodile and Mihawk want to ensure the Marines are too scared to come after them, getting Moria in their ranks would help with that.

Then there's Kuma. And. Well. Assuming Kuma doesn't kick the bucket in the next few chapters. If Kuma is still somehow alive and his soul/memories can be put into a body (some people have been suggesting his memories could be implanted maybe into a Pacifista or that giant robot on Egghead or maybe even his Seraphim, or maybe just memories could be returned back into his original body), and if he'll still have the ability to near-instantly travel across the planet then I'm putting my money on him returning to the Revolutionaries to be honest. But if he loses that ability, I don't think he's going to be sticking with the Strawhats to be honest. That said, he'll still need somewhere to go (with Bonney?), and with the rest of the Revs on the other side of the Grand Line... Cross Guild could, potentially, be the nearest, safest place for him, if for no other reason than the other former Shichibukai might be his safest bet right now. Especially if Crocodile ever did have any involvement with the Revolutionaries. But indeed, this assumes Kuma isn't Turbo Perma-Dead Forever, which remains to be seen.

I know a lot of people love Doflamingo and would love to see him back. Personally I want him to stay in jail, where he deserves to be. <3 Also I don't think Crocodile would ever want Doflamingo working for him, let alone go out of his way to travel to Paradise to let him out (though if they did, they could also release Weevil while at it, since he's also stuck in Impel Down) (But honestly, unless someone else goes to break Weevil out and Doflamingo just escapes while he's at it, don't think he's getting out)

Quick honorable mention to Law, since he is also a Former Shichibukai. His crew got nuked by Blackbeard but I doubt he'd join Crocodile and Mihawk for any reason, especially if he's still in the race for One Piece (assuming Cross Guild isn't) (Like Buggy is but Buggy might skedaddle for all we know)

But with the Shichibukai, this just leaves us with Hancock.

Thing is, last we saw her she was still in Paradise, wanting to reunite with Luffy. It is entirely plausible she could (or may already have) set out for the New World if she feels like she has to leave Amazon Lily to protect her home-- which she might have to, considdering without her warlord status the Government has gone after her. But indeed, if Hancock is on the run and heading to the New World, surely she'd want to find Luffy. So why would she ever join Cross Guild? She doesn't like men (aside from Luffy), so surely she wouldn't trust that disaster crew with a clown for a mascot. But again. This is where "what the fuck is Crocodile's end goal" comes in again. Because if he wants to destroy the World Government and wreck the Nobles' out of orbit... Well. I don't think convincing Hancock to go back to the place where she was kept in slavery for years would be easy. But also. Perhaps, just perhaps, she could be persuaded into committing some delicious revenge under the right circumstances (whatever that might be).

IDK man, there's potential here, things could get so interesting with Cross Guild and whatever the fuck Crocodile is planning (vs how Buggy's mutiny rolls out)

It is kind of funny though, how like the best case scenario for Cross Guild Shichibukai Reunion would be like. Kuma and his daughter. Moria, Mihawk and their collective daughter. Crocodad and his sharp boyfriend. And Luffy's wannabe fiancée. (The clown is optional)

[lisxdumbr]

The whole "if a person is mad at you it's their responsibility to tell you" thing just made me realize how fucked my situation is. Like just. woah

[dewgongs]

ughh why do i have to have njghtmares about them

[hershelwidget]

wait hang on

HANG ON

DO YOU SEE MY VISION