#man I also have no clue how to use tags

[hauntingblue]

Gear 5 luffy's laugh is so contagious I just hear the drums and go insane how does this work. What did he do to me

[nerosdayinanime]

more jjk sillies bc theyre fun

[mayhasopinions]

everyone: check out my super cool and intricate spidersona design with well thought out powers and unique abilities

me: heheh purple go brrr

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

My gosh this is beautiful and I have to reply because this is EXACTLY why I project onto him so much (a Very Healthy reason I know. When I first read Les Mis, I cried, bc I have felt exactly that pang). Ten million percent agreed with everything you said above!

I love your point about Cosette and Marius bringing up his (long-buried) feelings of envy: the tragic irony is, Jean Valjean--so often defined by his one act of theft--feels, himself, robbed.

Because ultimately, underneath it all, Valjean has a desperate desire for love--total, enduring love. Every time Jean Valjean has allowed himself to be truly known, people have immediately turned on him; all the goodwill he's built up over years of charity and suffering fades immediately. He feels that he will always be abandoned. So he's desperate for someone to stay. What first allows him to love Cosette is her helplessness: he is her savior, so she cannot leave him. And because of how enmeshed his identity is with Cosette, becoming anything less than her everything is a brutal extraction for him. He believes, since it is all he has known, that love is total and all-consuming; therefore, he believes Cosette can only really love one person, just as he only loved her, and that person (by Right™) is Marius now. After all he has gone through, and all he has done, he feels abandoned once again--even though Cosette may still claim she loves him--because he is not her everything, so he is nothing. And that literally kills him.

Valjean's perceived abandonment by Cosette is so devastating to him because in a way, he uses Cosette as a stand-in for God. He has never believed God could love him--in fact, even in the convent, he's described as kneeling before the sister "as though afraid to kneel directly before God." He has never allowed himself to see himself as anything other than the "miserable man" he was at the start of the story. And how could God love that? Instead, he finds Cosette, who is initially desperate and has no other choice but to rely on him (and he believes as soon as she does have a choice, or if she learns who he really is, she will leave him), and uses her as the foundation of his identity. She's also the center of his virtue; with someone to care for, to sacrifice for, maybe he can earn God's love somehow. And if someone so pure could love him, maybe there was something in him that could be loved. So of course when she begins to love someone else, Valjean crumbles--her love felt secure because it was desperate, but now she can choose. And he could never imagine anyone, including God, loving him willingly.

But I love Les Mis because he's wrong!!!! He's wrong about that, and he's wrong about himself, and he's wrong about what love is!! And the story tells him so!!!

From the start of the story to the end, God has always been with him, guiding his path. The narration throughout the story makes it clear--he even recognizes "the hand of Providence" in guiding him to the bishop and the convent, in bringing him finally to the trial to save the innocent man; to stumble upon Cosette in the woods was no coincidence, nor was it chance that Cosette and Marius found him (because they were looking for him!! Because they love him!!!) right before he died. He has always been loved, wholly and forever, even in the midst of his sin and suffering.

It's a love that knows him fully, and endures.

And I love that his story ends with that.

Jean Valjean's Canon Toxic Unhealthiness around Romantic Love

( alternate titles: “Does Jean Valjean is Gay?”, or “Does Jean Valjean is Asexual?” Or: “Why is it so difficult to slap an identity/sexuality label onto Jean Valjean?” Or “LGBTPTSD+”)

I was looking at the responses to this poll about whether people interpret Jean Valjean as gay/asexual/straight or something else….and it got me thinking again about Jean Valjean’s canonical intense, complex, awful, toxic, and overwrought emotions around identity/ romantic love. I want to talk about that for a bit because I think it often gets overlooked in fandom!

I've noticed that Les Mis fandom/analysis often tends to interpret Jean Valjean as being far more content, more "at peace with himself," and more "comfortable in his own skin" than he ever is within the novel. This is also a common change in adaptations. The musical's version of Jean Valjean is great-- but he also seems a lot more self-actualized, more like he's gotten himself completely "figured out" by the end of the story. Other, bad, Les Mis adaptations — the adaptations that generally portray Jean Valjean a worse more violent person — also usually make Jean Valjean more confident in himself, more confident in his own feelings/desires, more certain that he’s entitled to certain things, and more willing to demand or take what he wants.

But one major aspect of book Jean Valjean's personality is that he does not have a healthy relationship with anything about himself. He has a tortured broken relationship with his own identity. He repeatedly thinks about “Jean Valjean” as a person outside of himself, a person who he finds frightening, repulsive, savage, and horrible— like a wild animal he needs to sedate, or beat into submission. He is obsessed with self-denial and self-repression. He is fixated on the idea that he is subhuman, that he is not allowed to want things or to pursue having any kinds of relationships with other people-- and that the most heroic thing he can do is "grab himself by the collar” and violently force himself to stay away from the things he wants. He is desperate to be loved and fixated on being unworthy of love and on denying himself love. He is absolutely not at peace with his identity: to paraphrase Jean Valjean in one of the later chapters, he believes he can only gain inner peace by “eviscerating his own entrails.”

He is never truly content with who he is, what he wants, or what kind of love he wants— and he never learns to be. The novel ends with him cutting himself off from his only family, breaking ties with the only person who loves him, and essentially slowly killing himself out of self-loathing.

There are other characters in Les Mis who seem very content with who they are and what they want. Enjolras is self-assured in his identity, and doesn’t appear to feel like there is any kind of love that is missing from his life. Whether you interpret him as gay or ace or trans or w/e, book!Enjolras is written as someone who is extremely self-assured and has a loving support system that is enough to keep him happy. But I don’t think that’s true for Jean Valjean at all XD.

And that’s why it's hard to apply labels like “aromantic” or “ace” or gay/straight/etc to Jean Valjean, when talking about his canon characterization. Those labels imply the person has a basic level of comfort with acknowledging their own desires/lack of desire/identity. And Jean Valjean never achieves that level of comfort. What “label” do you give to someone whose relationship with their identity is “I do not belong in a family, I have no right to want things, I have no right to be happy, I am outside of life, and I will never be at peace until I eviscerate my own entrails?” Is there a “self-disembowelment" pride flag? XD I've seen a lot of interpretations that go "Jean Valjean never expresses any interest in romance, he's perfectly content just to have his relationship with his daughter" but I honestly don't think that's true. Jean Valjean tries to content himself with having only Cosette. But part of why everything explodes so catastrophically in the end of the novel is because he needs more than just a paternal relationship. He doesn’t try to have a “normal” father-daughter relationship with Cosette, he tries to force his relationship with Cosette to be literally everything and everyone to him, for her to be his entire world: and it doesn’t work.

There’s a passage in the novel that talks about how all the love Valjean is capable of ends up being suppressed/sublimated into his relationship with Cosette. The love of a brother, of a friend, of a father, of a husband, the love of everything he is capable of, gets repressed so that he can throw every part of himself into being a father. There are Bad les mis adaptations that incorrectly misinterpret that passage to mean that Jean Valjean is incestuous/grooming Cosette. But in context, that’s not what the passage means at all.

The passage specifies very explicitly that Jean Valjean “did not love Cosette otherwise than as a father,” that “no marriage was possible between them,” that his feelings for her are absolutely paternal. But the passage does show how Jean Valjean is doing a very different unhealthy thing: he’s relying on Cosette to fill every single emotional void in his life.

He’s relying on parenthood to fill the grief/emptiness left behind by all the other kinds of love that he has wanted, but never been given.

To quote a bit of that passage:

Jean Valjean did not love Cosette otherwise than as a father (…) Let the reader recall the situation of heart which we have already indicated. No marriage was possible between them; not even that of souls; and yet, it is certain that their destinies were wedded. With the exception of Cosette, that is to say, with the exception of a childhood, Jean Valjean had never, in the whole of his long life, known anything of that which may be loved. The passions and loves which succeed each other had not produced in him those successive green growths, tender green or dark green, which can be seen in foliage which passes through the winter and in men who pass fifty. In short, and we have insisted on it more than once, all this interior fusion, all this whole, of which the sum total was a lofty virtue, ended in rendering Jean Valjean a father to Cosette. A strange father, forged from the grandfather, the son, the brother, and the husband, that existed in Jean Valjean; a father in whom there was included even a mother; a father who loved Cosette and adored her, and who held that child as his light, his home, his family, his country, his paradise.

Jean Valjean reminds me of a Failmode I’ve seen in a lot of different real-life parents? There are parents who cope with their own hard lives by telling themselves that parenthood is their sole reason for being alive, and who obsess over their child’s success as their only source of purpose, meaning, love, happiness, community, and validation. But it’s a bad idea to rely on one child to provide the emotional support that should be shared by friends, parents, siblings, every possible loved one, etc etc—- One child can’t actually heal you from your trauma, be a replacement for your broken relationships, pull you out of your grief, save you from your adult loneliness, etc etc etc etc.

When I see the common interpretation that Jean Valjean is perfectly content just to be the father of Cosette, I think of this line:

Thus when he saw that the end had absolutely come, that she was escaping from him, that she was slipping from his hands, that she was gliding from him, like a cloud, like water, when he had before his eyes this crushing proof: “another is the goal of her heart, another is the wish of her life; there is a dearest one, I am no longer anything but her father, I no longer exist”; when he could no longer doubt, when he said to himself: “She is going away from me!” the grief which he felt surpassed the bounds of possibility. To have done all that he had done for the purpose of ending like this! And the very idea of being nothing!

On one hand, the terrible Les mis adaptations that portray Valjean as Incest Creep are incorrect and wrong. On the other hand, though, Jean Valjean IS unhealthy about Cosette— just in a different and actually sympathetic way.

He has made fatherhood his only purpose, to replace every other purpose he could have in life. So he can’t be “just Cosette’s father.” He can’t imagine her becoming an adult and leaving the nest, like children do. What does he have if he’s not taking care of her? What is his purpose in life if she doesn’t need him to be her parent? He's not just being her father, he's relying on her to be his entire reason to exist. He hasn't been allowing himself to have things outside of her.

And speaking of things outside of Cosette: segue time. This post was supposed to be about Jean Valjean and romance, so let's switch gears and talk about his canon 'romantic experiences' more:

We’re told that in his youth he “never had a sweetheart” because he “never had time to be in love.” There is no indication that Jean Valjean never wanted to be in love. The opposite is implied. Hugo frames it as a tragedy that Jean Valjean’s does not experience young love; it’s the horror of poverty taking yet another thing from him.

Within prison, Valjean is “gloomy” and “chaste;” when he traumadumps to Montparnasse about it, he talks about women looking on galley slaves with horror and disgust. Romance, at least “normal” heterosexual romance, is no longer something that is permitted for him. Jean Valjean knows very little about romance/love/sex and it repeatedly messes up his life. He spends 19 years in the all-male environment of prison, then about a decade in the almost-all-female environment of the convent. He has very little experience with how men and women are supposed to interact. The oppression Fantine faces as a sex worker, and Cosette's relationship with Marius, are both two big 'blind spots' that he struggles with.

At one point romantic love is described as “The only misery Jean Valjean had not yet experienced, and the only one that is sweet.”

In his massive confession to Marius, he agonizes over how he is not allowed to be part of a family, and is incapable of being part of a home. He compares himself to someone sick and diseased, that poisons good and normal people with his presence, and cannot be allowed to make himself part of their families.

So Jean Valjean doesn’t frame Romance as “a thing he doesn’t want:” it’s a thing “he is not allowed to want,” it is one of the many things he is banned from wanting. It's impossible to tell what kind of things he would want, if he were allowed to want them.

One of the most interesting things to me, however, is his general attitude towards Marius/Cosette.

Obviously his first reaction to Marius snooping around is fear and resentment— he doesn’t know to interact with romance, having never experienced it, and immediately begins catastrophizing. He views Marius as a privileged booby ruining his life for something as frivolous as a love affair: it reads to me as partially envy, envy of the fact that Marius lives the kind of safe comfortable life that allows him to experience young love.

Jean Valjean added: “What does he want? A love affair! A love affair! And I? What! I have been first, the most wretched of men, and then the most unhappy, and I have traversed sixty years of life on my knees, I have suffered everything that man can suffer, I have grown old without having been young, I have lived without a family, without relatives, without friends, without life, without children, I have left my blood on every stone, on every bramble, on every mile-post, along every wall, I have been gentle, though others have been hard to me, and kind, although others have been malicious, I have become an honest man once more, in spite of everything, I have repented of the evil that I have done and have forgiven the evil that has been done to me, and at the moment when I receive my recompense, at the moment when it is all over, at the moment when I am just touching the goal, at the moment when I have what I desire, it is well, it is good, I have paid, I have earned it, all this is to take flight, all this will vanish, and I shall lose Cosette, and I shall lose my life, my joy, my soul, because it has pleased a great booby to come and lounge at the Luxembourg.”

But, even though Jean Valjean views romance as something he isn’t allowed or have or to want, views it as a threat and catastrophizes over how it will ruin his life……he seems to also put heterosexual romance on a pedestal.

The way Jean Valjean idealizes marriage is one of his weirdest character notes for me.

He views marriage as Cosette’s “happy ending.” It’s her “happily ever after” point where she won’t need him anymore, where she won’t need anyone outside of her husband. A Man And a Woman Are Meant to Get Married, It's Fate, and It Means They Will Live Happily Together Forever. Marius is “the goal of her heart, the wish of her life; her dearest one.” Nothing outside of that matters anymore.

He treats her marriage as if romantic love is inherently always more important than any kind of platonic relationships, and always takes priority over them. He later dismisses the unconventional family structure he has with Cosette, saying that despite his love for her he was only a "passerby" and was not actually her real father, because they were not biologically related.

There's a moment where Jean Valjean is described as someone whose ideal is to be angel on the inside and a bourgeois on the outside. Jean Valjean's worship of bourgeois social norms, norms he can never truly be a part of, is one of his character flaws. He has a similar "guard dog" energy as Eponine does when she defends Rue Plumet from her parents.....Eponine and Jean Valjean both become the guard dogs of a kind of romantic relationship they believe they are banned from having. Jean Valjean believes that getting Happily Straight Married in a Middle-Class Home with a Picket Fence(tm) is the ideal path for life....but believes himself broken/incapable of ever following that path. And so he instead throws his entire life into securing that future for Marius and Cosette.

In what manner was Jean Valjean to behave in relation to the happiness of Cosette and Marius? It was he who had willed that happiness, it was he who had brought it about; he had, himself, buried it in his entrails, and at that moment, when he reflected on it, he was able to enjoy the sort of satisfaction which an armorer would experience on recognizing his factory mark on a knife, on withdrawing it, all smoking, from his own breast. Cosette had Marius, Marius possessed Cosette. They had everything, even riches. And this was his doing.

TL: DR:

Jean Valjean's gender/sexuality label is “idk but he’s super fucked up about it.”

[mclqren]

MAKE A WISH ★ CL16

PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!childhood friend!reader

SUMMARY ✦ you and charles have been friends since you were little kids, and each year without fail charles posts you on your birthday, unknowingly marking the milestones of your relationship [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ none, i think!

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ reader grew up in monaco. i tried to use old-ish pictures to mark the time period he was posting her from! this one's a bit on the shorter side because i only included charles' perspective of posting her. the fc i've used is cindy kimberly, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2017

liked by yourusername, user1, and 14,192 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc happy birthday to my very best friend! can't believe we've been friends for more than ten years, time flies by when you're having fun! love you y/n, have the best day ❤️

view all comments

yourusername awww charlieee!!

yourusername this is the sweetest omg

yourusername thank god you didn't use that crusty photo of me you threatened to use...

user1 okay now we haveee to see it

yourusername NOOO NEVERRR

yourusername thank you sm love you!!💘

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

user2 scrolled so far down i managed to find these old gems of y/n 🤣

user3 stop they're acc so cute i can't

user4 the way this is the point where they relationship was just so sweet and innocent is so heartwarming to me

user5 also before charles got slowly more and more whipped with each post he made

2018

liked by yourusername, user6, and 67,256 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc Y/N!! another year of us being friends, and another year where i have to put up with your awful dad jokes & incapability of cooking 🤣🤣 still, wouldn't have it any other way! love you y/n ❤️

view all comments

yourusername stoppp that cat was sooo cute

charles_leclerc ur cuter 😘

user6 THE BLATANT FLIRTING HELLOOOO??

yourusername birthday wishes much appreciated charles!! thank youuu 💘💘

charles_leclerc why so formal??

yourusername idk just felt like it ❤️

yourusername i literally can cook idk what you mean

charles_leclerc you almost burnt down my apartment??

yourusername intentional. 😊

user7 is that his girlfriend???

user8 nooo his childhood best friend from monaco!!

user9 well not yet anyways 🤷‍♀️

yourusername NOT THE BANGSSS IT WAS A DARK TIME OKAY

user10 Y/N REVISITING THIS IS SO FUNNY

yourusername NO STOPP WHAT WAS I THINKING.

2019

liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel, and 102,441 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc hopefully the getaway to italy was enough of a birthday present for you 😘 happy birthday y/n! no one else i'd rather eat crappy pizza with ❤️

view all comments

user11 TELL ME HOW THEY'RE NOT DATINGG

user12 omg she is absolutely STUNNING!!

yourusername CHARLIEEE IT WAS MORE THAN ENOUGH

user13 she seems like such a sweetheart

yourusername the flowers were so beautiful oh my

charles_leclerc you have no clue how long it took me to find them 🤣🤣❤️

user14 GET TOGETHER ALREADYY

sebastianvettel 👀👀

user15 SEB IS HERE!!

user16 what on earth can this man know

2020

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 274,928 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc happy birthday to the craziest cat lady i know!! 🐈‍⬛ thanks for supporting me through my ups and downs, and staying with me during this crazy journey! the best person to ever have by my side ❤️

view all comments

user17 oh so he's in love.

user18 RIGHTTT

yourusername you can NEVERRR take me away from cats!!

charles_leclerc as a dog person this hurts

yourusername idc deal with it eclair!!

user19 crazy cat lady x dog guy >>>>

yourusername love you charlie 💘💘

user20 CHARLIE HAS ME WEAKKK

user21 if this man doesn't want her I DOOO PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE Y/N

user22 looking back on this in 2024 it's actually sooo obvious idk how (some) of us didn't see it

2021

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 451,002 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc forever thankful that my mama made me play with my (annoying) new neighbour when i was 7 years old 🤣❤️ happy birthday y/n, hope it's the best one yet!

view all comments

user23 HOW IS SHE SO PRETTYYY

user24 more y/n content asap pleaseeee

yourusername exploring spain w you was sooo much fun & the tour guide was great asw! @/carlossainz55 😉😉

carlossainz55 it was my pleasure! ❤️❤️

user25 PLS SAY THEY ARENT DATINGGG I WANT CHARLES & Y/N

yourusername omg no he's in a long term relationship & i'm not at all interested 😭😭

user26 charles x y/n is still possible then!!

yourusername not the picture of me and the sushi 🤣 my one true love!

charles_leclerc i think you prefer the sushi to me

yourusername you'd be right!!

user27 wait guys i'm a new fan who is this??

user28 y/n l/n!! she's charles' childhood best friend from monaco (and we're all 99% sure they're in love)

2022

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 729,090 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc the only person who continually manages to pull off white regardless of the weather ☀️ happiest of birthdays to you y/n! love you more each year ❤️

view all comments

user29 JUST ADMIT IT UR IN LOVEEEE

user30 L-O-V-E

user31 hey alexa play you are in love by taylor swift (listen until it gets in ur head pls!)

user32 literally: "pauses, then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was, he is in love"

yourusername I LOVE YOU 💘

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

user33 they're lovers, your honor.

yourusername don't get in the way of me and one direction

pierregasly are they not over??

yourusername SHUT UP GASLY IM IN DENIALLL

user34 she's truly one of us!!

2023

liked by yourusername, francisca.cgomes, and 1,033,994 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc my very best friend and now, i can officially say, the woman i am very much in love with. happy birthday y/n - thanks for putting up with me all these years ❤️❤️

view all comments

user35 CHARLES X Y/N CONFIRMEDDD

user36 THE CAPTION?? THEY ADMITTED THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER IM CRYING

user37 AND THE LAST PICTURE?? I LOVE THEMMMM

yourusername my love forever 💘💘

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

user38 parents pls adopt me i beg

yourusername THE FIRST PIC HELP i did NOT think you'd post that

charles_leclerc why wouldnt i 🤷‍♂️

francisca.cgomes what are you doing with MY WIFE 😖

yourusername idk PLEASE come pick me up baby he's annoying me sm rn ❤️❤️

francisca.cgomes dw on my way rn 🙏

pierregasly oh???

charles_leclerc it would seem we've been replaced, pierre!

2024

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,801,332 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc MY girlfriend!! happy birthday y/n l/n; 14 year old me would be very happy to call the girl he'd been in love with since a kid his girlfriend ❤️

view all comments

yourusername 14 year old me would be screaming crying throwing up right about now, if it's any consolation

charles_leclerc 🤣🤣❤️

user39 THE WAY THEY LOVED EACH OTHER AS KIDS ASW I CANT

user40 the definition of soulmates i can't

user41 PARENTSSS

user42 i need to find me someone who loves me the way charles loves y/n

yourusername in all realness though kika is my gf sooo idk what the caption is about buddy!

francisca.cgomes righttt?? 😘😘

charles_leclerc so should i change the caption orrr?

yourusername NOO i have to flex my relationship somehow 🤷‍♀️

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[spatialwave]

“red lips”

pairing: pre-war cooper howard x fem!reader word count: 3.1k ask: “I have a cooper howard smut request, could you write something where the reader is his makeup artist on a new movie. Theres an Automatic connection they really click and have some sweet sweet sexual tension and after working together for a while during the movie the tension keeps growing and they get steamy in the makeup trailer. 🤭” warnings/tags: mdni! smut, porn with plot, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cheating/affair, cooper praises you. notes: this was SOOO fun, thanks for the ask!! i promise i’ll write some more ghoul fics, but just getting through my asks first and they’re predominantly pw!cooper <3 (also i love cooper calling reader angel for some reason, it’s so cute 😭)

“good morning,” you chirped, far too perky and bubbly for it being six o’clock in the morning.

you’d been working as a makeup artist for two years now, starting off as an assistant on television shows before scoring larger gigs. this was your first big break working in film, hired on the set of ‘The Man from Deadhorse’, starring none other than cooper howard; the biggest name in hollywood.

it just so happened that they hired you to be his makeup artist.

you were giddy, nervous and trying your best to not allow imposter syndrome to ruin your opportunity.

there were a handful of other makeup artists in the trailer, setting up their stations for the morning, allowing plenty of time to pretty up the actors before their call time. you’d chatted amongst each other, mostly other women, and sharing your excitement about working on a blockbuster film.

you’d been so caught up sharing a story about your latest television gig, you hadn’t noticed cooper howard leaning in the door frame of the trailer—patiently waiting. you’d only been made aware after one of the other girls motioned, smiling politely as they continued prepping for the day.

“sorry,” you gasped, hit with a sudden wave of nervousness as you looked at your station that was ready and waiting. you, on the other hand, wasn’t as prepared, “feel free to take a seat, mr. howard, i’ll just be a second,” you rambled, fingers shaking. you couldn’t remember the last time you were starstruck on set.

“take your time,” the man hummed, his voice just as magnetic as it was on the big screen. you heard his footsteps behind you, the sound of the chair creaking as his weight pushed down on it.

you remembered the voice of the makeup department head, who you had met with in the morning to go over the day’s look with cooper. nothing out of the ordinary: cover-ups of tired eyes, blemishes, and repeated touch ups during the day. lighting on sets were notorious for melting away concealers and foundations, so you were to always be one shout away for mid-scene fixes.

one more deep breath and you willed yourself ready, spinning around and taking a good look at the older actor.

“i promise i’m usually more prepared than this,” you smiled, your voice as sweet as honey. you hadn’t the slightest clue of how much that affected the older actor, shifting in his seat.

“no, no, don’t apologize. maybe i’ll show up a few minutes late tomorrow, and we’ll call it even.” he flashed a toothy grin, his charisma reeling you in like a hungry fish.

you two had hit it off well. there were many instances in your career where this time of the day was silent, your talent preferring peace and quiet as they prepared for a long, tiring day of shooting. cooper wasn’t like that, he seemed intent on keeping up the chatter until you finished powdering his nose.

“and that’s it,” you beamed, chewing on your bottom lip as you leaned in a bit close, using your thumb to brush an eyelash off of his cheek. strangely, you hadn’t the slightest urge to pull away.

cooper’s eyes had settled into a gaze with your own, the two of you completely silent, but saying plenty with only your eyes. his hazel orbs flickered down to your lips, rouged and plump, sickeningly kissable.

the sexual tension was thick, and your stomach twisted and turned wildly as you imagined him pinning you back against the makeup table and making you squirm and mewl in delight.

your mind only needed a few moments to conjure up a vivid scenario. your skirt pushed up to your hips, legs spread wide as cooper pushed himself deep into your aching arousal. he’d groan each time you purred his name into his ear, your breath hot against his skin and making his cock twitch inside you.

you’d milk him for what he’s worth, pussy so full that it starts to drip out. he’d rub the tip of his hard cock through your folds, gathering his white, hot cum and pushing it back inside you until you were fucked stupid. he’d have you begging for him to finish inside again, panting and whining loudly until you got what you wanted.

cooper’s cum slut—god, you needed to pull yourself together.

you squeezed your thighs, a slickness inside your panties that you didn’t need to deal with this early in the morning, but it was all your fault. you were sick in the head.

stepping back, you cleared your throat and began putting away tools in their spots—your station neatly organized.

“why, thank you, darlin’,” cooper chimed softly, as if he hadn’t just been fucking you with his eyes much like you had, “i’ve never had my makeup done so well that it’s felt like nothin’ on my face. i oughta’ keep you around for all my future films.”

a rosy blush tinted your cheeks and the tips of your ears, the compliment wanting you to scream in joy. there was nothing quite as good as an actor appreciating your craft, especially one that you wouldn’t mind seeing more of.

“well, i suppose i can clear up the next few years if you’d like,” you giggled, chewing on your bottom lip as you watched him leave. just as he was exiting the trailer, he glanced over his shoulder, meeting your gaze and sending you off with a cheeky wink that nearly made your knees give out.

every morning that cooper was scheduled on set, you were there in the makeup trailer at six am, waiting for his arrival thirty minutes later. to your surprise, he started coming in earlier and you wondered if it was because he wanted to be around you more, or just for the sake of being an early bird. he’d bring you a fresh cup of coffee, knowing by heart the way you liked it after asking one time: two sugar and one cream.

the sexual tension continued to blossom, but you two had hid it well for the sake of your jobs, sanity and cooper’s fame. from what you knew, cooper was many things, including a husband, and you didn’t need to get involved. you weren’t so keen on being in the middle of a controversy.

but there was nothing so wrong with flirting, was there?

“good morning,” you smiled, hearing heavy footsteps entering the trailer and soft sound of two coffee mugs being set down.

“mornin’, angel,” the cowboy spoke, his voice low and groggy.

“you look tired,” you mentioned, turning to face the man and seeing dark circles under his eyes, “you know you don’t have to come in so early. everyone else started coming in later too now that call time has been pushed.”

“what? and miss some quality time with my favourite girl?” he flashed a grin, and your cheeks burned red.

“yes, exactly that,” you chuckled, “you need your beauty sleep, mr. howard.”

“stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, sipping on his coffee and letting the caffeine pump through his system, “you’re a friend, you can call me cooper.”

you smiled, keeping it hidden as you took a sip of your coffee and laid out your makeup for the day, “fine, cooper."

he set his coffee down on the small table beside him, pursing his lips as he watched you prep for the day. your back was turned to him and gave him perfect view of your backside, eyes taking in the flowy black dress you wore that was held snug against your waist with a white belt. he could see the shimmer of your nylon, the dress only reaching your knees and leaving much to be desired.

cooper was a faithful man, he always had been, and there was never a time in his life where he would imagine breaking his loyalty until now. as much as he wanted to blame his thoughts of you on troubles in his marriage, it wasn’t true.

he was weak. plain and simple.

“you ready, cooper?” you broke through his thoughts, your red lips pulled into a smile.

“as ready as ever,” he returned a thin-lipped smile, pushing his mind elsewhere once reminding himself that his thoughts were exactly that—only thoughts.

doing his makeup was therapeutic. this early in the morning meant it was just you two, idle chit-chat as you carefully covered any imperfections on his face.

“can you tilt your head back for me?” you asked, the sweet sound of your voice sending the man’s brain into orbit. he followed your words, clearing his throat as he lifted one leg over the other to cover up the erection building underneath his pants.

he hadn’t shared the reasoning for his tiredness with you, having gone to bed late and rather pent-up. his hand underneath the blanket, stroking his cock as his mind was full of images of you, imagining what your body looked like under those dresses and skirts you liked to wear. impractical for long days, but he wouldn’t complain.

his hand around his length wasn’t enough, but he made do. moaning and whimpering your name as he imagined you riding him all night long. your perky breasts bouncing and fingers pressing against his chest as you begged him to fuck you harder and deeper.

a quiet sigh left his lips as you blotted makeup to his under eyes, hiding the tired bags that he’d done to himself for letting his imagination get the best of him.

it was quiet, only the sounds of you softly humming as you focused on your duty at hand.

cooper couldn’t take it anymore.

“do you… have a boyfriend?” cooper asked, swallowing a lump down his throat. he regretted the question, feeling the way you froze. for a man with natural-born charisma, he wasn’t sure how he managed to fumble so awkwardly.

“uh, no,” you answered, voice quiet, “just been focusing on work these days, not a lot of time for relationships when i’m working long hours.”

the question bounced around in your head, trying to clear the thought but there was no use. you were stuck there, staring at the man in awe as you hoped his mind was filled with dirty thoughts like your own.

he grunted in response, shifting in his seat as his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. you paused with your application, pulling your hand back and locking eyes. your faces were only a few inches apart, warm breath mingling together. you inhaled his scent, a mix of cologne, coffee and cigarettes, an addicting smell that you’d rather taste.

cooper read your mind.

“can i kiss you?”

you nodded—you were as weak as him.

cooper’s hand lifted to your neck quickly, pulling you close so he could crash his lips against yours and taste the sweetened coffee creamer on your tongue. the brushes in your hands dropped to the floor and were long forgotten as he tugged you into his lap and took your breath away.

at any moment, someone could waltz into the trailer, but neither of you were thinking rationally. all you wanted was each other after weeks of menial flirting and small talk.

he groaned into your mouth, the sound muffling as his hand caressed your jaw and the other pressed into the small of your back so you were flush against his body. as you straddled him, you felt the bulge in his pants pressing against your heat that had already soaked through your panties and nylon.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this, sweetheart,” cooper whispered, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck. he inhaled the floral perfume that you wore, a gentle scent that dizzied him as he attacked your skin, “you're such a pretty girl. teasin' me all the time, lookin' so sweet.”

the praises and compliments fed you well, causing you to rub your hips against him with vigorous need.

you were silently begging for more, and you were delighted to find out that cooper howard wanted nothing more than to make sure you were well taken care of.

your legs spread as you sat in his chair, your dress pushed up to your hips but covering most of his face as his tongue flicked against your clit, swollen and throbbing. one of your hands pressed over your mouth, muffling the pleasured sounds from you, the other pulling your dress back so you could see cooper ravaging your cunt.

his eyes peered up into yours, cheeks red while he tongued inside your arousal and calloused hands kept your thighs pushed apart.

“don’t stop,” you whimpered, “just like that. please, cooper, you’re doing so good.”

you kept him going, your words encouraging him as he sucked at your bundle of nerves and filled you with two fingers. he worked you well, scissoring his fingers and bending them so they could rub along the muscle of your g-spot. it erupted you into a fit of pouty moans, his skillful movements making you reach your climax quicker than any of your past partners.

your thighs shook and your hands gripped on the arms of the chair, cunt squeezing around his fingers as your juices seeped out of you and coated his skin. he fucked you through it, fingers rocking inside of you while pleasure flooded all of your senses.

“look at you,” he breathed against you, warm breath tickling your sensitive heat, “you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

you nodded, unable to tear your gaze away, “yes,” you murmured, willing to say anything cooper wanted to hear, “i’ll do whatever you want.”

that cracked a smile on his lips, fingers slowing until he pulled them out and watched your face twist at the sudden emptiness, “anything? well, with an offer that sweet, i’ll be sure to get my worth out of you.”

all you could do was smile at him, breathing heavily in a state of post-climax, wondering how on earth you were going to keep this up without screaming out his name. loud enough for anyone outside the trailer to hear.

your were putty cooper’s hands. a simple kiss to your inner thigh and you nearly unraveled again.

“i don’t know how i got so lucky to fuck a girl like you,” his voice was low, demeanour shifting into a side of cooper howard you thought existed only in your mind, “is it okay if i do that? because i’m sure you know how to take cock well.”

fuck.

“yes, please,” you answered, eyes following him as he rose to his feet in front of you. it was hard not to noticed the tent in his pants, your mind reeling as you imagined what he looked like underneath.

“good girl,” he breathed, forcing you out of the chair and in one quick motion swiping across your makeup counter so everything fell to the ground.

you couldn’t complain about his mistreatment of your belongings because you were biting on your bottom lip to muffle a moan as his thumb circled your clit. your ass was atop the makeup counter, back pressed against the large mirror as cooper touched you with one hand and undid the button and zipper of his jeans with the other.

“you gotta’ be nice and quiet,” he whispered, watching you do your best to muffle any sounds bubbling from your throat, “this is just for us, okay?”

you hummed in agreement, unable to speak as you felt the head of his cock press against your entrance. his thumb continued the slow ministrations, keeping your body in a state of overstimulation as he stretched your aching pussy with a forward press of his hips. he was bigger than you were used to, but you took him well—you’d wanted this for weeks, after all.

“fuck,” you whimpered, hands grabbing onto his shoulders as you tilted your head back against the mirror and glued your eyes shut. you were filled by him, legs wrapping around his hips and forcing him still so you could adjust to the feeling.

“you okay, angel?” he kissed at your parted lips, tasting your tongue before trailing along your jaw and nibbling at your earlobe, “tell me when.”

even during the midst of an affair, cooper howard was the kindest man you ever had the privilege of fucking.

“...when,” you whimpered.

he didn’t hold back when you gave him the go—knowing that you two only had so little time before someone else was bound to barge in. you were forced to bury your face into his neck, whining and mewling against his skin while he fucked you relentlessly.

you loved his sounds, groaning heavy into your ear with each snap of his hips. his breath tickled your neck and left you a squirming mess, his cock fucking you so well that all you could do was babble gibberish. broken words of encouragement and pleads to keep going.

“harder,” you mewled, fingers digging into his clothed shoulders as he obliged.

his cock pushed so deep inside you that the tip rubbed against the fleshy ring of your cervix, rendering you utterly fucked out in a state of bliss. all you were good for was being a mere tool for him to reach his climax, your cunt tightening at every thrust of his hips.

more of your makeup toppled to the floor, your hands moving from his shoulders and gripping onto the surface below you. you met cooper’s gaze as you pulled back, his lips and chin covered in red smudges from your lipstick.

“you take me so good,” he breathed, the hand on your hip gripping tight and the other leaving handprints on the mirror behind you, “good fuckin’ girl.”

“i’m gonna’ come,” you whined, eyes hardly open as you peered at your lover through thick lashes. your thighs squeezed against his hips, vibrating as your second orgasm creeped up and you knew he was close, too.

“come for me, angel,” he grunted, quickening his pace to chase down his orgasm, “scream my name.”

his thumb returned to your clit and the chord inside you snapped. you wrapped your arms tight around the actor’s neck and pressed your lips against his so he could swallow your moans. you shook violently, toes curling as you came hard.

you lips parted from him and you couldn’t help the way his name slipped off your tongue, voice cracking as you cried in pleasure.

he wasn’t far behind, a groan rumbling deep from his chest as his hips stuttered and he came inside you—leaving you sticky, sweaty and full. neither of you could move, bodies twitching as you clung to each other in the euphoric aftermath that released all the building tension between you.

you were cooper howard’s little secret, a title you would take to the grave.

[just-a-fluffy-knight]

Little Sass Factory

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: canon typical language, Logan being ruthless and Wade being a teasy asshole

A/N: LETS GOOO DEADPOOL AND WOLVIE FIC‼️‼️ I’ve been wanting to write for these guys ever since I saw the movie y’all have no idea I am so obsessed with them right now 😞 AND A PLUS BEING THIS DOESNT NECESSARILY SPOIL THE MOVIE SOOOO YALL CAN READ IT 🙌🏻🙌🏻

I really hope y’all like this bc I cannot stop thinking about them and yapping about them to my buddies 😭🙏🏻 Like as much as I’d love to wreck these two, I cannot stop thinking about them as a ler duo so have this :]

OKAY HAVE FUN READING YALL 🫂❤️

Tag List: @prairleedog (THANKS FOR THE TITLE INSPO POOKALOOKS 🙏🏻❤️) @kittenwhiskers @cherry-bomb-blush

“Y’know what? I’m actually real excited for this! Moony has been wanting to write a thing with us for a while now! Good on her for pushing through the writers block, that shit sucks ass.”

“…What the hell are you talking about?! We’re looking for the kid, remember!?”

And that they were. They’d been scouring the apartment for like… six minutes now trying to find you. But somehow, you’d been able to consistently switch hiding spots without them noticing.

How? They had no clue. The pair wouldn’t have been surprised discovering you were also some kind of mutant but with advanced sneakiness, if that was even a thing.

Wade was actually having a bit of fun with this, whereas Logan… he was getting pretty pissed. More so than usual.

“Kid, I swear to god, if you don’t show yourself in ten goddamn seconds, I WILL start tearing this fucking place down!”

Logan crouched, his claws instantly coming out, making Wade panic.

“Woaaah, woah, woah, woah! Easy, Peanut, we’re trying to find ‘em! Not kill them, which may sound a little rich coming from me-“

“I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to be angry. The kid decided to pull that shit on us and then split. And now we can’t find ‘em.” The older man growled, his claws retracting back into his hands.

“And this is the moment we start working together!” Wade announced, an arm slung around Logan’s shoulder that most likely would’ve been sliced if he hadn’t allowed the latter to shrug it off in annoyance.

However, Logan swiftly turned at the sound of a noise nearby, his eyebrow raising as he went to check it out, leaving Wade to keep rambling about nonsense he didn’t understand.

“God, where’s Peter Parker when you need him?? Actually, I don’t think I’d mind a lil bit of Miguel O’hara…” Wade let out a long whistle.

“…Ah wait, he doesn’t have that Spidey-Tingle , fUCK-!”

The merc suddenly yelped as he was grabbed by his collar, being yanked towards where Logan was moving.

Meanwhile, you were curled up, both hands over your mouth as you tried to shut yourself up, anxious titters threatening to give yourself away.

You mentally berated that stupid floorboard that just had to creak at the slightest bit of goddamn pressure.

“Ohhh, Y/NNNNN! Come on out now, we’re not gonna hurt ya!”

The sound of the merc’s goofy teasing made you snicker even more, but when you heard how close Logan’s voice was to the closet, you froze.

“Why the hell do you have to talk like that?”

“Whaaat? It turns up the fun knob a little bit! And I know they can hear meeeee!” Wade crooned in that same sing-song tone, followed by an unamused huff from Logan.

“We’re gonna getcha, we’re gonna getchaaaa!”

God, could they just get out the room?? You had to throw them off again and fast. During your panicked inner monologue, you were soon met with… silence.

You relaxed, knowing you must’ve had an opportunity.

…At least you did until you realised something. When the hell is it ever quiet when those two are together?

Then, you heard a hushed voice coming from outside the closet door.

“Ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve waited for…”

…Oh, fuck.

Without warning, the closet doors were swung open by Wade, and the merc jokingly vocalised (very off-key too) while throwing his arms up with a flourish.

“WOOOAAAAAH!”

As you yelped in fear and dashed out the closet, Wade laughed and made a glance towards… well, air.

“If ya know, ya know!”

You quickly slipped past Wade, also laughing as you ran out the door to the room you’d been hiding in.

“Yohou’ll never take me al- ACK-!”

You yelped again as two strong arms wrapped around your torso, hoisting you up and off the floor.

…Shit.

“And just where do you think you’re goin, bub?”

“Wait, wahahait! Logan, hohold on-“

“No no no no no, I’m not waiting for anything.” Logan interrupted, carrying you back into the bedroom. “Not after you pulled that shit.”

“Oh, whahat? A little bit of water?”

“I wouldn’t say the rubber band on the sink trick counts as a little bit of water, Y/N.” Wade snickered, crossing his arms and smiling proudly at the fact you’d been caught.

“Come ohon, it wasn’t that bahAD-!” You yelped again as you were tossed onto the bed, still giggling. “Whahat’s the matter? Couldn’t shake the water off, kitty cat?”

The older hero scowled threateningly at you, ignoring Wade who sniggered at the joking insult.

“What?”

“You heheard me!”

Just as Logan was about to full on lunge towards you, Wade grabbed him.

“Hey, hey! Easy now, boy.” The merc spoke like he was talking to a feral dog, making Logan glare at him and growl.

“God, what now?”

“We gotta approach slowly! It builds up anticipation…” As Wade spoke, he began slowly approaching, carefully clambering onto the bed. “And proves to this little prankster how royally fucked they are!”

And it was working. Your giggles soon turned nervous, and you curled up, attempting to shy away from Wade (but not actually putting a lot of effort into getting away, much to Logan’s surprise and Wade’s amusement).

“And theeeen I’m juuust gonnaaaaaa…”

Suddenly, the merc’s arms swiftly looped under your own, lifting and leaving your, well, everything pretty much exposed and unable to be protected.

“Go on, boy! Gettem! Gettem, boy!”

Logan’s fury was way too fuelled by Wade’s stupid comments to even allow you to get a word in edgeways, instantly lunging forwards before digging and vibrating his claw-shaped hands right into your ribs.

“OhoH SHIHIHIT-! L-Logan, gehet OHOHOFF-!” A squeal left your mouth as you burst into frantic giggles and tried to kick, only for the older man to firmly shove right back at your legs, rendering you unable to fight back.

“God, will you just- quit the kicking?” Logan growled, a surprising air of playfulness behind it as he shot his hands right down to your thighs, firmly kneading there.

Despite already squealing your ass off, you couldn’t help but make a quip.

“Mahahaking biscuits reheally isn’t gonna hehehelp you beat the kitty allegahations, buhud-!”

Another low grumble filled the room, before Logan turned his head to Wade.

“Shut the kid up.”

“Roger that!”

Wade did a dumb salute before unhooking his arms from under yours to wiggle his fingers right into your armpits.

“Getchagetchagetcha!”

“AAAAHHHHHAHA DAMMIHIHIT-!” You practically shrieked, your giggles instantly shifting into full blown laughter as you pinned your elbows to your ribs, trying to squirm away but failing thanks to that iron grip Logan had on your legs.

“Ooh! I think I got a killer spot here, Logan!”

“Hmph, that’s nothin. Watch this.”

Logan earned another screech by mercilessly drilling his thumbs into your hips, making you buck instinctively and cackle uncontrollably.

“Nuh-uh! Armpits are the killer!” Wade protested, the merc speeding up his tickles on your underarms.

“Fat chance! They’re like a banshee when you get ‘em here!”

You wanted to protest, but all you could focus on were those hands attacking your weak spots.

Eventually, you felt them thankfully let up.

…For now, anyway.

“Now, Y/N. There is a way we can squash this beef, y’know.”

Logan sighed at Wade’s words, never understanding this ridiculous slang he dropped into conversation like it was nothing.

“Maybe a simple phrase such as… ‘I’m sorry?’”

“I can do one better.” Logan interrupted. “How about ‘I’m sorry I was a jabbering little sass factory who had the audacity to pull a dumb fuckin prank on people who didn’t do jack?’”

While catching your breath, you sealed what was basically your death wish.

“Oh, yeheah, Captain Caveman? Wheheres your helicopter cluhub, you gonna hit mehe with it?”

Logan fell silent again… while Wade couldn’t help but let out a wheeze at the quip.

“Ohoh, my god! Baby’s first character comparison joke, I’ve taught you so well..!” Wade sniffed dramatically, wiping a fake tear of proudness from the corner of his eye.

However, he froze once he heard you mutter something else.

“Thahat’s right, Mr Clehean-“

A strong gasp of offence left the merc as he placed a hand on his chest, while Logan gave him a smug look at not being the only one who was insulted.

“I beg your finest fucking pardon?! You think that’s any way to talk to Marvel Jesus and his very hairy disciple here!?”

Logan gave Wade another unamused glare.

“Y’know what?”

Wade then swiftly grabbed you again.

“Give ‘em the whiskers, Peanut!”

“They’re not whiskers, they’re muttonchops, you dumb fuck.”

“Same thing! Or shall I pull the move and do a much better job as always?”

The older man snarled, lowering his head down.

“I’ll show you who does it better, asshole…”

“Okay, wait, wahait-! W-What mohove is thiHIHIS-?!”

You cut yourself off with yet another shriek as Logan suddenly blew a giant raspberry right against your stomach, the added sensations that his facial hair provided making you near silent laughter.

It was clear that Logan was basically taking out all his pent up annoyance at Wade on you, and good god it tickled super bad.

And Wade? He was being no help either, as usual.

“Awww, wook at the giggwy wittle baby! Are the Badger Berries making their tummy all tickly? And are they having the time of their life? Yes, they are! Yes, they aaare!”

…Asshole. (Even if he was right.)

You did pride yourself on lasting about five raspberries (Wade could only ever really handle two), but you eventually had to tap your hand against one of Wade’s arms that were still hooked under yours.

“Okahay, Logan. Give em a rest.”

Despite his annoyed hesitance, Logan leant back up, allowing you to get your breath back in shaky pants.

“Geheez… you twoho are juhuhust..!”

“We’re waiting, kid.”

The older man interrupted, giving you a playful but threatening look.

“Fihine… I-I’m sohorry..!” You sighed, your face red as anything as you blinked away little tears that had pricked in the corners of your eyes.

“There we go! That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Wade teased, resting his chin on your shoulder, in which you just rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, we better get ready for round two, huh?”

…Uh oh.

“WHAT?! B-Buhut I apologised!”

Wade did a pretend ‘apologetic asshole’ wince.

“Yeah… but this attack was more only to get you to apologise. This one is to actually teach you a lesson!”

“But thahat’s bullshit-!”

“Well, it’s a good thing we don’t give a fuck.”

Logan shared a look of pure mischief with Wade.

“Let’s gettem.”

And just like that, you were screaming and laughing the apartment down once more, as Logan nuzzled his furry face right into your belly again, pretending to eat it and growling playfully while Wade wrapped his arms around you and blew a raspberry right into the crook of your neck.

Yeah… you were gonna be here for a while.

[h0neysp1ce]

Hii

Sorry if this is weird but please can I request some headcanons with Kaveh, Alhaitham and Diluc (Also if you don't write Diluc, Tighnari is good instead) where the Reader has extremely painful period cramps, like to the point where they need to vomit and can't move 🙏

Not at all! here you go 💚🫶

˚୨୧⋆｡˚  Summary: ↑ How does he take care of his s/o when they have very bad cramps?

Characters: Kaveh, Alhaitham, Diluc, Tighnari Tags: Established Relationship (all Separate) Fluff?? Constellation: Head canons Warning(s): Mentions of Period symptoms, nothing graphic reader can be read as gender neutral or Female (Had no clue which one to put so I put both) ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ 

A/N: I tried my best, apologies if Diluc's and Tighnari's Parts are shorter, and hopefully I went into enough detail as you asked , also I hope I titled it in the most un akward way possible, This was my first time writing something like this so I hope its not to bad ^^"

sorta Proof read (will edit later)

Word Count: 1243

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

Kαʋҽԋ 🎨

This man is worried about you the moment you start not feeling great.

There's no need to feel embarrassed or ashamed; he understands that this is something you go through.

It’s nothing new, really. You've been open with him about your cramps being bad, and he understands that.

The first time this happened, it freaked him out because he thought something was wrong with you until you told him what it was, and he calmed down.

Kaveh: "Alright, I'm back with the heating pad and snacks."

You: "Kaveh, aren’t you supposed to be out working with a client today?"

Kaveh: "Oh no, I canceled all my work for today. I’m not leaving you alone and unattended."

You: "KAVEH!!? No, don’t worry about me. You should worry about your work. I know it's stressful and—"

Kaveh: "No, you're more important right now. Please, let me take care of you."

If you end up getting sick, like feeling like you’re about to vomit at any moment, he’ll be there with you, holding your hair back if you're actively getting sick, rubbing circles into your back, and staying with you in the bathroom until you feel better and can get back to bed.

Knowing that you can’t move much in this state, he'll take it upon himself to get you things. Want food? He’ll make you some. Want cuddles? He’ll gladly cuddle you.

He’ll have medicine ready for you along with a glass of water and a heating pad.

This man pampers you 100%.

It pains him to see you hurting and not feeling your best. You won’t see it, but he tends to have a frown on his face when you're hurting. He’s doing everything he can, but he can’t take your pain away completely, and it makes him sad.

He’d take away the pain and discomfort from you if he could.

Most of the time is spent cuddling. It doesn’t matter to him; whatever makes you most comfortable and relieves at least some of your pain is what matters to him.

He’ll kiss your face all over, along with some hand kisses, giving positive affirmations that you’re going to get through it, that it’s going to be okay, that you’re very strong, and that it’s only temporary.

His voice goes soft when talking to you, running a hand gently through your hair. He’ll be looking at you often, always asking if you're alright or if you need anything.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

Aʅԋαιƚԋαɱ 📚

He’s read plenty of books to know what you’re going through and the best treatments for it.

He knows what it is without even having to ask you, as you’re wrapped around the toilet suffering.

He’ll sit with you and wait until you feel slightly well enough to get back to resting.

He will be honest with you and say that he doesn’t mind or care; there’s no shame or embarrassment. It’s a normal thing you go through.

If you let him, he’ll use his hands to place them on your abdomen. He has warm hands, and he’ll keep them there if it helps relieve the pain and discomfort, even just a little bit.

He’ll pull off his cape and put it on you if that helps comfort you in some way.

If you’re lying down, he’ll make sure to pull you closer. Usually, he doesn’t like being so close, but he’s doing this for you because he cares.

You: "Alhaitham, am I burdening you?"

Alhaitham: "I've told you multiple times already that you’re not a burden. You just need help and assistance right now, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Now go back to sleep." (says this while reading a book)

He’ll carry you or pick you up and take you places since moving by yourself is a no-go.

He’ll be reading a book while you lay with him. In reality, he’s keeping an eye on you, not reading a page of that book, just pretending.

This man would take the pain away from you in a heartbeat if he could.

He’ll be with you the entire time through this tough period.

He’ll make sure you take your medicine every few hours as directed.

In a modern AU, he’d likely turn on a movie or something for you, and you two would stay in bed mostly. He’ll also get you anything you need, don’t worry.

He’s still able to do his job remotely from home as the Akademiya's Grand Scribe. What, did you think this man was going to work while you weren’t feeling your best? Nope! He’s going to take care of you because that’s what partners do.

Even if he shows little affection normally, he’ll make sure to give you some during this time.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

Dιʅυƈ 🍷

He’s more than aware when he wakes up and finds you not up, as you’re usually up before him.

He’ll ask you, and when you confirm his suspicions, he’ll grab some things (food, whatever you want if you just ask him).

He’ll also make a quick trip to the Tavern and have someone take over for him for a couple of days since he’s going to focus on you right now.

If you allow him, he’ll heat up his hands with his Pryo Vision and place them on your abdomen to ease your cramps slightly. If you’re feeling sick at any point, just tap on him or signal him, and he’ll make sure you get to the bathroom.

He’ll always take one of your hands, pepper kisses all over, and look at you while the two of you are in bed as you relax.

This man is a gentleman (all the men are gentlemen).

Your well-being is a main priority for him.

He’ll shower you with affection and pamper you lots.

He’ll always talk with you and explain that if you need anything at all, just tell him. It’s no bother nor burden. He’ll always assure you that you’re his partner and that he cares about you, giving plenty of reassurance if you need it.

All his duties will be resumed once you’re feeling better completely, so don’t worry about him being behind or anything. He still manages things remotely from Dawn Winery.

Diluc: "Please do tell me if you need anything, anything at all."

You: "Of course I will, Diluc. I love you."

Diluc: "Love you too."

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

Tιɠԋɳαɾι 🌻

He’ll brew up some tea or have you drink a glass of water first when you confirm with him that it’s that time.

He has plenty of medicine and herbs on hand to ease your cramps and maybe the nausea caused by them.

He’ll let you have snacks but will also make sure you have balanced meals, going for the healthy approach.

Don’t be afraid of your mood changes or swings; he understands. He’s not going to be mad if you end up snapping at him.

He’ll try to limit his job as a Forest Ranger so he can keep an eye on you and take care of you.

The first time it happened, he thought you’d come down with some sort of sickness until you told him what was happening. He understood and went out of his way to help you (though he did end up going on a ten-minute ramble about what you already knew and didn’t need to hear).

If you have back pain, he’ll rub your back for you. If you’re feeling any other discomfort, he’ll do whatever he can to help.

He also tends to give you face kisses and affection. He’s a cuddle person and doesn’t mind you being clingy (none of the men mind you being clingy).

Tighnari: "Now remember what I told you, [Name]?"

You: "Tighnari, we’ve been over this five times already." sigh

Tighnari: "I just need to make sure you’re retaining the information."

You: "This is going to take a while."

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

[mintys-playarea]

RUGGIE B. W A DUNCE! PLAYING! LOVER!

You had no idea how you were able to get a man such as him to fall in love with you. He was clever, sweet, a great cook, and an absolute cutie... Ruggie was yours and you were his!

You had many flaws. You weren't very smart, you had tendencies to mess with people... The list could go on. Yet he still loved you.

It was a cool, autumn day. Warm colored leaves fell from trees, leaving the courtyard a blend of reds, browns and oranges. There were plenty students walking and talking happily along with one another, the smell of pumpkin spice wafting in the air. Though you were relatively uninterested before... A particular student has caught your eyes. It was none other than the Azul Ashengrotto walking around, promoting his most recent sale for the Mostro Lounge... This was the perfect opportunity.

The leaves crunched beneath your shoes as you tapped his leg, your icy cold hands sneaking up his pant leg and touching his warm calf. He shivered with a loud yelp, immediately turning around to find no one there. You were hiding behind a nearby tree. You weren't hidden well of course, but Azul couldn't see you. He shook his head, sighing and brushing it off as the wind. As he continued to promote the sale, you snuck up on him again. You tapped his leg the same way as before, except... You weren't fast enough this time. He kicked you and hoisted you up with stern eyes.

"Do you understand how disrespectful you are?!" Azul screeched. He clearly disliked getting his legs touched like that.

You sputtered trying to come up with an excuse, panicking as you see the Leech twins starting to come into view. You squirmed as Azul held still and started walking.

"Excuse me boys, but may you help hand out flyers for me as i return this rascal to their owner? They were very disrupting to me, we wouldn't want that happening with to another," Azul had a slight pout as he continued walking. He muttered something to himself quietly before going into the Savannaclaw mirror.

Leona sighed as he saw Azul waltz up to him. "And how am i responsible for the herbivore??" He said with a tired look.

"Well, aren't they always over here? I'd assume it's because they have something with you?" Azul responded, almost annoyed with the fact he had to speak with Leona.

"No... You'd have to find Ruggie. He's— Right here," Leona groaned before returning to his room.

"Oh, hey there Az! Whatcha doin' here? And why do ya got lovebug there?" Ruggie commented on you being carried by Azul like a critter he finds dirty.

"I found.. er.. Lovebug messing with me during my promotion for the new Mostro Lounge sale... So you're the one taking care of.. this thing?"

"Aye, they're person, you know! Not just a 'thing.' But yes, i am in charge of taking care of Lovebug."

"I'll just hand them over already... You should really keep a watch on them. They're probably going to cause a big problem if you dont." Azul shook his head before leaving Savannaclaw finally.

"So... Lovebug, what was that about?"

You pulled out a to-go box of fresh food. Food you stole from Azul. A goofy smile spread across your face.

"Ahh... I see! I've trained you well... You deserve a treat for that!" Ruggie smiled along with you, bringing you into the kitchen.

"I know ya may not be tha brightest sometimes, but you're a sneaky lil' thang fo'sho! Here, ya wanna help bake some cookies to go with that meal?"

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

TAGS!!: @cheezy-moon

A little note on how the tagging system works:

If I know you like a character and I end up writing for it, I'll tag you in it (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

Also, I have no clue what to put for name replacements so... I'll just do pet names! :D also I wanted to keep this in second person, but I kept it gn when I had to use the pronouns (*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀*⁠)

I also forgot how the mirrors work (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) and I gave ruggie a special way of talking! I like writing him speak like that :3

[morbific-or-felicific]

-AGNOSTHESIA Featuring Scaramouche

Part 2 Part 3

Meaning: The state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behaviour, as if you were some other person

Word Count: 3.5k~

Description: A study session with Scaramouche gets spicy

Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach

Join The Tag List

“Are you deaf or just stupid? I’ve been explaining this to you for over an hour. How do you not understand?!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! This class is just really hard, and I haven’t really been able to understand anything from the last few lectures. It's all just gotten so complicated.”

“Isn’t this supposed to be your major? Why did you pick something challenging if you’re too stupid to understand any of it?”

“I’m not too stupid! It’s just a challenging class!”

“Why did you beg me to tutor you if you were just going to waste my time?”

You didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t wrong, nearly every study session the two of you have had ended with an incredibly frustrated Scaramouche and an equally confused you. It’s not that you weren’t trying. You paid attention the best that you could in lectures, and you did all the readings. You even used up most of your free time studying! But regardless, you were still hopeless.

Of course, having Scaramouche as a tutor was supposed to make things easier; he was at the top of the class, after all. However, it almost made things more difficult, given the fact that during your study sessions you were constantly getting distracted by how pretty the man was and how close the two of you were to your bed. You probably enjoyed the insults he threw at you due to your lack of understanding just a bit too much too. But no way would you ever admit to that.

~♡~

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. It was 1:45pm. Your class started at 1:00pm. This was not good. You burst through the doors, immediately drawing everyone's attention and making your professor stop mid sentence. You were mortified. On this particular occasion, you had spent all night studying before dragging yourself to your school's library to continue studying. You had planned to spend your morning studying before your lecture at 1:00pm. You had not planned to fall asleep until 1:25pm and have to run to a whole other building to get to your lecture. You had been spending all your time trying to keep up with your peers in your astrobiology course, but it appears that plan had backfired, as you had already missed half of your class and would need to beg someone for their notes, perhaps an explanation as well. You looked around for a seat, quickly realizing that the only easily accessible spot was near the back next to Scaramouche. Fuck. Scaramouche was the best student in the class, but he was also notoriously unapproachable and impossible to work with. You had been stuck doing a group project with him before, and he had been a controlling nightmare. Ever since then though, he had occasionally spoken to you if you came close enough to insult. You took a deep breath, swallowed your fear, and started up the stairs. The class had continued on in the moments since your interruption, so you didn’t expect Scaramouche to be staring directly at you when you glanced at him on your way to your spot beside him. You looked away and got to your seat as quickly as you could.

“Well, if it isn’t the smartest girl in class.”

You fought the urge to insult him back, but you knew that if you wanted to get any help from him, you couldn’t risk giving him a reason not to help you. You gave him the nicest smile you could muster; he rolled his eyes at your attempt to be nice. You sat down next to him and set up your computer to take notes for the rest of class. After another half hour had passed and you were hopelessly confused, you turned to Scaramouche to ask him for some help.

“Hey, uh, I’m pretty lost; do you think you could give me the notes you took for the first half of the class?”

“Do you really think that’ll help you? It’s not like you even understand the lectures you don’t miss.”

“I understand them!”

“Yeah, sure.”

He turned his attention back to the professor. That’s when you had an idea that might actually work.

“Hey, do you have any spare time that you could maybe use to help me with the work from this class?"

“Do you really think that I would willingly spend my free time tutoring you? Why on earth would I do that?”

You took a deep breath, silently praying that this would work.

“If you agree to tutor me, I’ll give you Kazuha’s number.”

“You’ll what?”

Yes! He was interested.

“I’ll give you Kazuha’s number, and I’ll put in a good word for you with him.”

“Kazuha? As in Kaedehara? Are you serious?”

He was just staring at you, looking very serious. Clearly, this was important to him.

“Yes, I promise.”

Scaramouche chuckled to himself a little before sighing.

“Okay. Text me where your dorm is. I’ll tutor you on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays.”

“I uh…don’t have your number.”

“You don’t? I have yours.”

“Yeah that’s because I gave it to you. Just text me and I’ll send you my building and room number, okay?”

“Fine.”

You sighed. Why did he have to be gay?

A few moments later, you got a text that said, “Hey loser”. You sent him your dorm information and a list of what times on those days you were free. And just like that, you had a tutor.

When you eventually talked to Kazuha about Scaramouche and how you had given him his number, Kazuha seemed confused, but after an oddly long stare behind you and a glance at his phone, he seemed to understand what you were trying to tell him.

~♡~

“Are you really this stupid? Or do you just like it when I insult you?”

“I’m not stupid! And don’t pretend like you aren’t getting anything out of this!”

“Right, I get to have you meddling in my love life. How could I forget?”

“You agreed to this! I didn’t make you do anything!”

“No, you just gave me an opportunity to spend time with the person I have feelings for, but only if I spend all my free time trying to teach an idiot her major.”

“I’m not an idiot! Stop saying that!”

“You can’t expect me to sit here and watch you screw things up I didn’t think anyone could possibly screw up and not insult you. You’re practically begging for it.”

You huffed a frustrated sigh and went back to your work while your tutor sat there on his phone. How was all of this so easy for him when you could barely understand any of it? You were working so hard but had nothing to show for it except for low grades and a tutor who is the furthest thing from being into you, who also somehow kept getting you all worked up and needy. Part of you wanted to just tell him to stop coming over so you could get through a study session without getting sexually frustrated. However, you also didn’t want to stop spending time with him…because, uh, because Scaramouche was helping you improve! Not for any other reason. Oh nevermind, who were you trying to fool? You definitely had feelings for him, even though you knew they would never be reciprocated. It wasn’t long before you reached another question that stumped you.

“I’m confused.”

“What else is new?”

“Shut up. Can you help me?”

He stared at you and raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for something. You sighed.

“Please?”

“What’s the question?”

“What is a carbonaceous chondrite?”

“Have you been paying any attention in class? At all?”

“I-”

Scaramouche cut you off.

“Even if you aren’t paying attention in class, you have my notes, and you’ve been asking me endless questions. Wait, I forgot. You’re just an idiot.”

“I’m not an-!”

Once again, he cut you off.

“No, you are. At this point, I’m not even trying to insult you. It’s just a fact.”

“Why?! What did I do that was so dumb?!”

“Do you really want to know?”

“...Yes?”

“Do you remember how you convinced me to be your tutor? Of course you do. You gave me Kazuha’s number. Do you want to know why he was so confused when you told him that? Because I’ve known him since I was a kid; we’re best friends. He only went along with it because I had followed you and was a ways behind you trying to get him to check his messages because I had to send him a text explaining that the girl I have feelings for thinks I’m gay and in love with him, and since he knows how dumb you are, he went along with it for my sake. I honestly thought that you would have figured it out by how nice I’ve been to you ever since we did that project together.”

You couldn’t believe it. Scaramouche has a crush on you, maybe even for as long as you’d had a crush on him. And oh my god you were stupid; he was best friends with Kazuha? How had you missed that?! Oh god, that means Kazuha knew you were stupid too…how did you even make such a big mistake?

“You…like me…? And you’re best friends with Kazuha…? What do you mean you’ve been nice to me ever since our project? You insult me all the time! Even before you started tutoring me, you were mean to me!”

“I talked to you. As far as I’m concerned, that’s nice enough. Anyway, I guess I should be going now huh?”

“Wait uh, you don’t have to go.”

“Oh? Maybe you do like it when I insult you, hm?”

“That isn’t important. I just need you to stay because you promised to tutor me, and I still need help.”

That gave Scaramouche an idea.

“Huh, maybe you just need better motivation to learn…”

He smirked at you before standing up from his spot on your bed and closing the little distance there was from where he had been sitting and where you were seated at your desk. He turned your spinny chair to face him and leaned down so his face was in front of yours and flicked your forehead.

“Hey, dummy, want me to fuck you?”

He laughed quietly at your slack jawed reaction. He stood back to his full height and sat back down on your bed. He gestured for you to come sit on his lap. You stared at him blankly, confident that you had misinterpreted his action.

“Come on now. You’re not really this stupid, are you?”

That was enough confirmation for you. You stood up from your chair and were about to sit down on his lap when he stopped you.

“Take off your clothes.”

He didn’t exactly leave any room for argument, so, as embarrassed as you were, you started taking off your clothes while Scaramouche watched you. You got down to your underwear and stopped, unsure if he wanted you to continue.

“Go on.”

Okay then. You took off your bra and your underwear, now feeling awkward with your tutor sitting in front of you fully clothed. He motioned you forward again and you sat down on his lap. He moved a hand between your legs and ran a finger down your slit before laughing.

“You’re so wet already, I guess you liked those insults more than you let on.”

His comment somehow turned your face redder than it already was. You would have made some kind of argument, however, you suddenly became preoccupied with the feeling of him pushing two of his fingers inside of you and fucking you with them. You couldn’t help but let out a few moans at the feeling. He snickered at the sounds you were making, even going so far as to mock the sound of your moans.

“‘Mmf ah oh fuck mmm haah,’ you sound so pathetic.”

You tried to quiet the sounds you were making, but that only made him more upset.

“Don’t stop. I like hearing you whining like a bitch in heat.”

He pulled his fingers out of you then pushed them past your lips and into your mouth. While you cleaned off his fingers like a good little slut, he used his other hand to undo his pants and pull out his cock. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and lined you up over his cock before bringing you down onto it. You heard him suck in a breath and let out a chuckle.

“Hah, shit, you feel good.”

You could only let out a whine in response. He bottomed out inside of you. After you took a few moments to adjust, you tried to lift yourself up, but found you couldn’t move an inch with the tight grip your tutor had on your hips.

“Wha…?”

“You said that you needed me to stay to tutor you, so, I’m here to tutor you.”

Was he seriously going to try to tutor you while he had you sitting on his cock? No, this couldn’t actually be happening.

“But…but I can’t…”

“You will. I’m just giving you some extra motivation.”

He smirked at you once again.

“What role do supernovae play in the origin, evolution, and development of life?”

You couldn’t think. You were far too preoccupied with the feeling of his cock deep inside of you.

“I don’t… I don’t know, I can’t…”

“Come on, you answered this correctly last week.”

Had you? Part of you thought he was lying to you just to make you feel stupider.

“I don’t know it…”

Your response came out as a whine.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure!”

One of his hands moved away from your waist. For a moment you wondered what he was doing, but then you felt a hard slap come down on your ass.

“Ahh! What…? Why did you?”

“You need some consequence for your stupidity.”

You tried to clear your head for the next question.

“Why is it more likely that we will find prokaryotes rather than eukaryotes when we finally explore Europa, Enceladus, or Mars?”

“I don’t know Scara-”

Suddenly you felt a sharp pain in your cheek. Did he slap you?

“I don’t want my name in the mouth of a worthless slut like you.”

He paused for a second.

“Did you just get tighter? You really are slut.”

You blushed and looked away from him. You didn’t want to admit it, but you really were enjoying yourself. However, the fact that your tutor still wasn’t fucking you was driving you insane. You prayed that soon enough he would get bored tormenting you and finally fuck you.

“Instead of calling me by my name, why don’t you just call me master, hmm?”

“Okay…”

“Okay what?”

“Okay master…”

“Aw, so the slut can be good! Well, since you’re so stupid, I’ll give you an easy question next. What substances are emitted from cryovolcanoes?”

Oh thank god, you actually knew this one.

“Water, ice, ammonia, nitrogen, and methane…right?”

He just watched you for a moment with a little smile while doubt started to build in your mind.

“That’s correct. But it really was such an easy question, maybe I should continue teaching you…”

“Please Sca- master…”

“Oh? What are you asking for?”

“I want you to fuck me…please…”

He watched you for a few moments, contemplating his decision.

“Beg.”

“What?”

“Beg, and I’ll fuck you. I won’t ask again.”

There was no way you were going to beg Scaramouche to fuck you. That would be humiliating. But if it would get him to fuck you…no. You weren’t that desperate for him, were you? However, all of your reasoning flew out the window when Scaramouche lifted you up his cock and dropped you back down.

“Fuck please master, fuck me, I need it so bad, need to feel you wreck me, want you to use me however you want, please!”

“However I want, hmm?”

Before you could reply, he had lifted you off of his cock and moved you so you were on your hands and knees. He got up from his spot and knelt behind you.

“But master I wanna- mmf!”

Your tutor pushed your head into the pillows.

“Stupid little sluts don’t get to touch me or watch me fuck them.”

With that, he pushed his cock back into you. God, why did he feel so big? He’s short, so why does it feel like he’s in your fucking throat from this angle?

“And arch your fucking back, whore.”

You did as he asked, and all you got in response was him letting out a little laugh. He started fucking you slow but deep, and you couldn’t help the moans that were escaping your lips, but thankfully, they were muffled by the pillows, so he could barely hear them. Fuck, this felt so good. The fact that he tortured you before getting here didn’t even matter anymore, as long as he could make you feel like this.

Before too long, you could feel an orgasm approaching, and though you tried to let him know, the pillows obstructing your mouth caused your warning to come out as, “mhmhfm hm hmhm hmm!” and your tutor continued to ignore you. Eventually however, you felt yourself start to tip over the edge. You really did try to tell Scaramouche, but he just wouldn’t listen. He was far too wrapped up in the feeling of fucking you. When you finally tipped over the edge, Scaramouche stopped moving entirely, effectively giving you a very shitty orgasm. He grabbed your hair and hauled you up to him so he could talk to you without pillows getting in the way.

“Did you just fucking cum without asking, princess?”

His voice was sickeningly sweet, and you were terrified of what would come next. He twisted the hair he had grabbed making you cry out.

“Hmmm how should I punish you? Dumb sluts like getting spanked, don’t they?”

You shook your head the best you could with how he had your hair.

“Aw, of course they do.”

He pushed your face back into the pillows and let go of your hair. There was a moment of silence as you waited for what would come next. You felt a sharp pain as his hand came down on your ass. Was he this strong before? You were confident that there would be a red handprint on your ass now. He landed another smack, causing you to emit a little yelp. He continued your punishment until you were shaking and crying. Finally, he decided he was done and wrapped a hand around your throat before once again hauling you upright. He moved his lips next to your ear.

“Don’t try to act like you didn’t like that. I could feel how tight you were.”

You blushed, but before you could respond to him, he started fucking you again, this time hard and fast. Fuck, how did he feel even deeper in you now? He reached a hand around to play with your clit. Fuck, were you going to cum a second time?

“Can I cum? Please, need to so bad.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Instead of stopping like you had expected, he kept fucking you, and within a few seconds, he had you seeing stars. He kept going this time, fucking you through your orgasm. However, he didn’t stop when you were done. He kept going, looking to reach his own end.

“Do you want master to fill you up with his cum? Hmm? Is that what you want?”

“Fuck, yes please, please!”

Scaramouche leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“No.”

“What?”

Suddenly, he let go of you before pushing you back down and flipping you over before finishing on your stomach. Fuck, you were glad you got to see that at least.

“Worthless little whores don’t deserve to be filled with my cum.”

After he said that, some switch seemed to flip in his brain, and he got up to go search for a cloth to clean you up with. He returned and sat next to you on the bed, wiping the cum off of your stomach.

“Are you okay…?”

You were amazed. He looked like a concerned puppy. Was this really the same guy that was telling you how worthless you were a second ago?

“Uh, yeah, I’m alright.”

You stared back at him. But after your confirmation, he seemed to go back to his usual self.

“So uh, does this mean anything…?”

“What?”

“I understand if it doesn’t. It’s okay, I get it. I was just-”

He flicked your forehead.

“Did u miss the part where I told you I have feelings for you? Why would this mean nothing? God, you really are stupid.”

Yep, definitely back to his usual self.

“Wait, so does that mean you wanna like, date?”

He let out a big sigh.

“I suppose I’m willing to have an idiot for a girlfriend.”

“Fine, then I’m willing to have an asshole for a boyfriend!”

He rolled his eyes at you and let out a little laugh before laying down in bed next to you. You didn’t realize how tired you were until you had your head resting on Scaramouche’s chest, and before too long, you had fallen asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @yourlocal-bunny @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga

morbific-or-felicific.

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Soft Launch

luke hughes x actress!reader

note: please don't look up the date of kick a ginger day cause it does not line up but please let me have this

y/n_l/n

liked by jackhughes, sabrinacarpenter, and others

tagged: @/sabrinacarpenter, @/naileadevora

y/n_l/n: spot the difference, level impossible

view all comments

july 9

max1989: you even have the twilight filter over both this is level impossible

jenna_: wtf is ethan edwards doing in y/n's comments??

SueMe_13: more importantly why are him and y/n so buddy-buddy

e.edwards.stan: isn't she dating luke?

zebra_zegras_11: WHAT?! 😲

julien.bakers_wife: i ain't never seen two pretty best friends cause i see three

naileadevora: we look so hot 😍😍

y/n liked this comment

edwards.73: what does the redhead have on her face?

y/n_l/n: ..a face mask?

edwards.73: no i know that i was talking about the other redhead

y/n_l/n: your just sour i rejected you cause i have a bf

enchanted.by.y/n: YOU HAVE A WHAT???

edwards.73: idk what you see in that kid

danelle1989: possible her and jack are dating? like are we sure it's luke

steph_43: that's what i'm saying because she's like the same age as jack

all_too.unwell: jack in the likes and ethan in the comments her and luke are not being very subtle

y/n_l/n

liked by miagoth0, lhughes_06, and others

y/n_l/n: photo dump.. also taking new friend applications because all my 'friends'' kicked me today #keepinggingerssafe

view all comments

september 6

pheobe.86: he got her flowers 💕

emma.loves.y/n: the bar is on the floor

drysdalelove_: i still think she's dating jack 🤷‍♀️

conner_mcdavid_fan: can't believe luke picked out those gorgeous flowers

matilda_styles: someone cooked there

_inlovewith.caufield: someone = y/n

alex.turtle: looking like a date..

tswift_1213: your kinda right

marauders.fans: it could just be a friend like Sabrina or Billie or Dove

brina.and.y/n_fan: she would have tagged them if it was a friend

snow.lands.on.top_ofME: how do i apply?

billiebosanova: don't know who would want to date her

your-so-gorgeous: those flowers are y/n if she were flowers

jackhughes: i wonder who bought those flowers..👀

burrows_darling: he love causing a little chaos

bedard_lover: proof she's dating jack not luke!

hannah.montana_stan: quick y/n look out! there's a man in that car!

cold_as_youuu: chaotic y/n photo dumps are my favourite!

lacy_: luke liked!!

im_a_mirrorball: who?

lacy_: 💀

y/n_l/n

liked by _quinnhughes, taylorswift, and others

y/n_l/n: when i get my paris by taylor swift moment>>>

view all comments

september 25

the.c0ck.22: more flowers, where do i find a man like this

loving_lhughes: that is just so obviously jack to me

nico.13.wife: its okay to be wrong 😊

laurieandamy: that cuddle position>>

kaylor.ships.13: she's so overhyped

y/n.dani_: his hands holding her thighs like that 🥵

gerwig_film_fan: that dress is so pretty

y/n_l/n

liked by lhughes_06, dylanduke25, and others

tagged: lhughes_06

y/n_l/n: the rumours are terrible and cruel, but honey must of them are true... so this is my man, ya'll been wondering thought i should show him off and show off how much i love him

also have to address this. am i okay?? i went to a football game and a hockey game this week, someone please check on me.

view all comments

october 7

y/n.alltoowell: girl you don't have to hide his face you tagged him

carmen_lana: y/n is getting too unhinged with that last pic

trevorzegras: still don't know how you pulled this off lukey

jackhughes: it is a fucking mystery

y/n_l/n: have you seen him?

jackhughes: thats gross

hughes_love: she's so absolutely real for that

inlovewith.hughesbrothers: luke keep it pg!

loverofdogs: no clue what luke sees in her, he could do so much better

trevorzegras: could you introduce me to taylor now?

colecaufield: me too!!

_quinnhughes: so happy for you and lukey i mean he's been in love with you since he was 15

lhughes_06: dude shut up

y/n_l/n: thank you for being the only one to actually say their happy for us!!

jackhughes: you know im happy for you both i just still can't believe it

wes.and.libby: they are so hot in the last pic 😍

jackhughes: lukey! watch those hands

edwards.73: still don't know what you see in this kid

dylanduke25: it's insane he pulled her

y/n_l/n: let me say this again have you seen him?

lhughes_06: thanks gorgeous

jackhughes: 🤮

potter.wife: i don't know who i want to be more

nai_my_girl: no i know i want to be luke

wonderland_stan: his hand placement 🥵 everyday i fall more in love with this man

lhughes_06: you're so gorgeous

y/n_l/n: you're perfect 😭

never.a.god: y/n and taylor in their wag era

ethan.e.wife: luke hughes, king of manifestation

lhughes_06: i love you too

y/n_l/n: i love you more

lhughes_06: i love you most

y/n_l/n: 💗💗💗

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part five

authors notes: hi! you guys are so freaking awesome and sweet and like gawww, so grateful for such kind words and support!

so i realized that i used the wwe names for jimmy, jey, naomi, etc. that was my bad. i'll be using their real names moving forward for the sake of flow and consistency.

also keep forgetting to state that current timeline is 2023. like, this chapter is fall 2023. everything, so far, post breakup for joe and reader has been 2023. i plan to follow that timeline, so make of that what you will.

i hope this chapter isn't too boring to people!

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 5.7k

tags: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion

“So, are we just going to continue to ignore each other?”

You’re not sure how, but you sense his presence long before he even says anything. And instantly, your mood is dampened, not that you were in the best spirits to begin with. You didn’t get much sleep the night before, for reasons you cannot fathom. But, it’s annoying as hell, especially when you have an ex turned fuck buddy who can’t seem to get a fucking clue ready to confront you outside of your daughter's preschool.

Sighing heavily, you pull out your phone to play around with your lock screen, because you really don’t have anyone you need to message in this moment. But, he doesn’t need to know that. “Not now, Amir.”

“Because you’re so busy?”

“Because I don’t care.” One thing you’ve learned about yourself over the years is that once you’re annoyed with someone, there’s no filter on your mouth and you cannot be held liable for what comes out of it. “Now, please, go away.”

He just looks at you, sun shining down on his waves and chocolate complexion. It’s unfortunate outside of his looks that he’s an overall trash partner. Decent friend. Shitty boyfriend. “You always do that shit, you know? Pull and then push. It was kinda cute when we were kids. Now, it’s just annoying.”

You were standing outside of Callie’s preschool, waiting for the kids to be dismissed, waiting for your little girl to come running out with a smile on her face, request on the tip of her tongue. It’s usually something small like wanting to show you what she learned in school. Lately, it’s been the same.

Can I call Joe?

A part of you feels bad for the amount of calls he probably gets in one day just from Callie alone. She took your offer for her to call him whenever he was available to another degree, not that he minded. He took as many as he could, listening to her talk and talk about whatever happened to be on her mind in that moment. And you let her.

What kind of mother would you be if you stopped her from talking to her dad? Even if she doesn’t know that’s who he is. 

It’s been almost two weeks since he left, and she clearly misses him. You often overhear her asking about when he’s coming again. You also receive those questions. It’s something you and him discuss via text but haven’t landed on a date yet. 

Communicating with Joe is also something that’s still an adjustment. It’s not as difficult or uncomfortable, because it’s almost entirely about Callie, but still. 

“If that’s the case, why do you bother?” You manage a less insensitive tone, even if you know good and well you’ve never led this man on. Amir has always heard and believed what he wanted to believe. That was the problem. He never listened to you.

“Because I fucking care about your annoying ass, duh.”

His delivery, the tone, and cadence. You laugh. It’s probably inappropriate at the moment, but it does bring a smile to his face as well. “Softie.”

He moves closer to you, arms crossed. “I’m serious, Y/N. You know how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you.” 

Leaning against your car, you respond as calmly as you can, “and you know I’ve always made it clear I’m not looking for anything more. We had our time, Amir. It didn’t work out. Now we just help each other get off. I don’t know why you keep trying to make it more than what it is.”

“A date. One date,” he implores. A waste of time, because your answer is no. It’s been no and will continue to be no. “You haven’t even given ‘adult’ us a chance.”

There’s a headache in your near future, one that’s reminiscent of past ones only Amir seems to induce. It’s interesting how he went from indifferent asshole to clingy asshole. You almost miss the earlier version.

Chocolate was supposed to be good for the soul, so why was he so draining to yours?

“Amir…..” You try to pick your words carefully and be mindful of your tone. “This is getting real old. I think we need to stop messing around, because we’re clearly not on the same page.” The next part is something you probably shouldn’t share, but you call yourself trying to be open and clear. “Calista’s dad is back, and we’re trying to navigate coparenting, so—” 

“What?” He stops you, shock written over his handsome face. “Are you serious? You’re letting that motherfucker back in ya’ll life?”

This time, it’s his tone that jumps, accusatory and harsh. You immediately grow defensive. “You don’t know him.”

“God, why do you defend him like this? Is it that Stockholm Syndrome shit? He left you. He left you and his kid. What kind of man does that? And you’re just letting him back in? Just gonna jump back on his dick? Letting him around Callie? She’s old enough now to remember when he decides to leave again. I don’t get how you don’t see that. You her mama. You supposed to look out for her.”

And now, you’re done trying to be nice, trying to be mindful that he’s still another human being with feelings. Because one thing you never have and never will tolerate is someone insinuating you’re not looking out for your daughter. You’re not perfect, but you know that you’re a devoted, dutiful mother. 

“It’s obvious comprehension isn’t your strong suit, which I should have known based off the fact that I always had to help your dumbass do your homework back when we were in school.” All bets….off. “My baby? My life? My pussy? All my business. You don’t get to judge the decisions I make for my child nor the role that her father has in her life. That’s between me and him. Keep your nose out my fucking business. Don’t worry about me hitting you up anymore. That’s dead.”

Your rose will do just fine. Hell, there’s gotta be at least one other eligible bachelor in town you could fuck if absolutely need be. But, you know damn well you won’t be messaging Amir anymore. He comes with too much baggage. It’s not worth it. You refuse to let a nigga whose height starts with a 5 stress you out.

True to his nature, he starts gaslighting you. Typical Amir. “There you go overreacting and shit.”

“No, I’m not. You’re trying to question my parenting when you don’t know shit about shit.”

He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes. This was why people used to say you had a temper in high school. Because of him. Because he loved to tell people what you said but never what he did. Always tried to make you feel crazy. Truth be told, you’re stupid for even opening that door with him again, even if it’s just for sex.

“Whatever, Y/N.” He turns to walk back over to his car. You really wish his damn sister would change her work schedule so she can pick up her son instead of this asshole. You’ll catch a case fucking with his dumbass. “I’ll wait for your text.”

He’ll be waiting. “Fuck you, Amir.” 

You should be more mindful of your language at a damn preschool, but Amir has managed to get under your skin, something that hasn’t happened since you were in college. You know a good part of it is because you’re sleep deprived, but you also know it’s partially because of his dig at Joe.

You understand the optics seem to indicate that he’s a deadbeat, but you’ve expressed to Amir countless times that it was a complicated situation. He didn’t know the specifics, but you made it clear Joe didn’t abandon you or Callie. That’s just the narrative Amir keeps running with, and now with Joe being back in your life and especially in Callie’s life, you’re not gonna let it continue. 

“Mommy!” Your head snaps to see and feel Callie run up to and hug her body against your leg. “Boo!”

Shit. Did she hear any of that? You hope not and paste on a smile that’s hopefully authentic enough to sell that everything is fine. “Callie Bear.” You lean down and pick her up, kissing her cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

She nods and starts explaining the activities while you buckle her into her carseat, trying your best to calm down and not give away your high stress levels in that moment. Callie is super perceptive, and you don’t want to ruin the obviously great day she’s had.

And sure enough, as you’re putting on your seatbelt and starting up the car, the golden question is shouted with pre-excitement. 

“Can I call Joe when I get home?”

Smiling at her through the rearview mirror, you answer, “yes, you can.”

In the almost two weeks that have passed since Joe’s departure, not one day has passed that Callie doesn’t asks to call Joe or just outright helps yourself to her iPad to call him. Sometimes several times a day during the weekends. And she’ll talk to him for as long as she can, as long as he’s able to hold a conversation with her. You’ll give it to him, he’s done an exceptional job handling all of it. On some level, you wonder if you should set some restrictions or time parameters, but how do you limit how much a daughter interacts with her father?

Callie rejoices at your approval and requests for you to put on the Disney playlist you made specifically for her on Spotify. 

The drive, no more than 10 minutes, consists of the two of you singing along to a few Disney tunes. It’s a bit of a tradition between you, a way to bond via your shared love of Disney. A love that ties not only you to her but to the women before you. Your mom and grandma. 

Arriving to your apartment complex, you decide to leave your work bag in the car. It’s Thanksgiving break. You most likely won’t do any work until the day or two before having to return.

You do carry Callie on your hip and swing her bag around your shoulder, walking the two of you up to the second floor. Sometimes, you regret not accepting the apartment they had available on the first floor. The older you get, the less your joints like to cooperate, your almost 15 years of cheer probably taking a toll on your body. 

And just age in general. 

But your regret quickly turns to a level of gratitude when you reach your door. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Dropping Callie to the floor, she’s of the complete opposite reaction, gasping and smiling broadly. 

“Look mommy, more boxes!”

The smile is strained but you manage to maintain it, sticking the key in the door, unlocking and pushing it open.

She walks in, and you place her bag on the floor near the door, one foot keeping it open. “What do you think it is?” She asks as you pick them up and bring them inside, kicking the door closed behind you.

You know exactly what it is. What it all is. 

Gifts.

From Joe. 

In his absence, you’ve had several deliveries waiting outside your door when you got home from work and picking Callie up. And all of them were for Callie, gifts of variable nature but all of them things she loves. Disney, stuffed animals, dolls. Essentially anything that could make a 4 year old feel like she’s won the lottery. 

She’s literally bouncing on her toes, already with her kids scissors in her hands. 

When the hell did she grab those?

“Can I open them, please? Please?”

A part of you wants to say no, save them for christmas gifts, though you’re almost entirely certain he’ll have another set of gifts for her then. And it seems almost cruel to make her wait over a month when she knows there are presents waiting for her.

“Sure, but….” You scamper into the kitchen and grab your adult size scissors, returning and showing her. “Let mommy cut them, and then you open them.”

You don’t need this child accidentally cutting herself. Again, medical bills are not in the budget, especially around the holidays. Money’s already tight to some extent. 

Not that….not that it’d be much of an issue with Callie. You’d never fix your moth to ask Joe for anything, especially not financially, but if it was something involving your daughter, you’re pretty sure your tune would change. It would still bother you to ask for help, but you know he’d have zero qualms helping you out.

He’d probably pay for it in its entirety.

Your proposition pleases her. “Okay!” She places her scissors on the nearest flat surface and sits down, legs crossed, bouncing impatiently. 

Chuckling, you glide your scissors across, careful not to open anything. You want to save that moment for her and your plan. 

Once done, you place the scissors on the kitchen island and reach for your phone. “Wait before you open, baby.” 

Immediately, she frowns and scowls, “whyyyyyy.”

Rolling your eyes, you sit on the floor too to be at her eye level and open Snapchat. “Okay, now.” 

You hit record and watch intermittently through and outside of the screen as she opens the boxes, smile permanent and excitement palpable. She especially gets excited when she pulls out a freaking box of the new Little Mermaid and all of her sisters. More….dolls. 

“Look, mommy!!!” She then grabs a doll who has a surprisingly similar complexion and curl pattern to hers, holding it against her face. “She looks like me!”  

“She does,” you agree, realizing it’s a customized American Girl doll. Damn. Those things can run up to $200. You weren’t stupid, knowing Joe’s probably spent more money on Callie alone in two weeks than you’ve spent all year, but just how much has he spent?

It’s when she opens the final box, surrounded by nothing but toys and packaging that you’re already dreading having to stuff all this in your trash bin, “what do you say, baby?”

Callie hugs the American Doll close to her chest and directs to the camera, “thank you, Joe!” She gasps and adds on, “I miss you, but mommy said I can call you tonight!”

You hold back your giggle and agree, adding, “after she helps mommy clean up all this.” 

Her smile drops, pout returning, “I hate cleaning.” 

Snickering, you mutter, “you and me too, sis.” 

You end the video, save it and enter Joe’s chat to attach the video, adding a message.

You: You’re spoiling her, Joe. 😫 This is the third delivery this week alone. 

You’re able to clean up some of the packaging and throw it away before your phone chimes with his response. Callie has grabbed the amount you expected her to grab and discard. Her attention span is trash at the moment. She’s a child surrounded by toys. It’s expected. 

Joe: She's my little girl. Of course, I’m gonna spoil her.

Joe: There should be another one by the weekend. If not, let me know.

You sigh aloud, this man is gonna have your place looking like freaking KB Toys.

You: Omg

You: ….You know I live in an APARTMENT, right? Just where the hell am I supposed to put all of this stuff?

It’s sweet he’s so keen on gifting her these things, but he also has to realize you’re not living in a mansion in Malibu. And despite having a child who leaves messes wherever she goes, you do your best to keep your place tidy. 

 If you didn’t know Joe, didn’t see how easily he connected with Callie, you’d maybe accuse him of trying to “buy” her love. But, you know that’s not the case, know that he clearly just wants to make her happy. You just hope he knows that he does that all by himself, no gifts needed. 

Joe: She has a whole playroom.

You: Yes. Playroom, not Toys-R-Us. 

Joe: 🤷🏽‍♂️

You: 🙄 You’re aggravating.

He doesn’t say anything after that, so you decide to finish cleaning because at some point your child wandered off, most likely to her playroom to add all her new stuff with her slightly new stuff. Taking advantage of the alone time, you also decide to text your mom to figure out thanksgiving plans. Specifically, what drink, dessert, and/or condiments she wants you to bring because you damn well know she won’t ask you to cook.

She still hasn’t forgiven you for that accidental fire that one year.

And it’s when you’re sitting on the sofa, also starting to think about black friday plans that your mind wanders, your anxiety grows out of nowhere.

You’ve taken the approach to not have any say in Joe’s relationship with Callie, to intervene only when absolutely necessary. And as that hasn’t hasn’t occurred, you’ve not done so. You let him and her do their thing. But a small part of you wonders if you should put some parameters around Callie. She calls him several times a day, Joe, who spends more time on the road than there are days in the year.

You know he wants to establish a relationship with her, but that can be done with boundaries. Anxiety getting the best of you, you grab your phone and shoot him a text. 

You: Is it okay if she calls you today? I know it’s been a lot, and if too much, just let me know. I’ll talk to her. 

His reply comes almost immediately this time around.

Joe: She can call me 100 times. I don’t care. I wanna talk to her.

And instantly, the anxiety is almost non-existent. Deep down, you know this is what he wants. He wants to have interaction with her, and incessant Facetime calls are the only option with his crazy schedule, so it’s what he takes. It’s what he wants. 

Pleased and no longer stressing over an issue that was never an issue, you lock your phone and place it back at your side. A quick glance at the clock reminds you that it’s almost time for Callie’s bath. 

A couple minutes later, your phone dings with a text notification. From Joe.

You open it right away. 

Joe: This weekend. Don’t tell her. I wanna surprise her. 

You have to read it a couple of times before it registers. He’s coming back in town. This weekend. As in less than two days. You’re excited at this, happy as well. For Callie. But also, for yourself. Why? You haven’t a clue, well, maybe there’s a slight clue, but you don’t want to acknowledge that right now. 

You simply want to focus on the fact that you’re happy your daughter will be happy her dad is town. 

Who cares that you will be too.

________

Joe’s just walked out the bathroom, having showered and almost entirely prepped for bed when his phone rings. 

Moving over to the hotel nightstand, he’s surprised when he sees Callie’s smiling face filling his screen. A glance at the clock in the corner of his phone reads 11:06, which means it’s 9:06 her time. Well past her bedtime. What is she doing up?

Curious, and regardless, he answers the phone. It takes a second for the connection to finalize when it does, he’s instantly smiling, mostly because it’s Callie but also because of her setup.

It’s obvious she’s under a blanket, a flashlight in the corner illuminating the space, a stuffed animal in her lap. 

She’s the first to speak, her voice both loud and hushed in a way only she can do. “hi!”

“Hi, sweetheart.” He can’t help but ask almost immediately, “what are you doing up?” As he told you, he’d talk to her 24/7 if he could. And even though this call is unexpected and appreciated, she’s also a 4-year-old kid who needs her sleep.

Her little shoulders lift in a shrug. “I can’t sleep.”

Nodding, he follows up with, “where’s mommy?” 

“Sleeping,” she answers with a level of disappointment. “I don’t wanna wake her up. She had a bad day.”

“Really?” Joe moves around so he’s laying on the bed, on his side, phone propped on the nightstand. “How do you know?”

“Cause–cause she was yelling at Mr. Amir, and–and he was yelling at her too.”

Joe hasn’t a clue why, but that instantly upsets him. Who the fuck is this Amir person, and who the hell does he think he is to raise his voice at you? Around Callie of all people.

“Who is Mr. Amir?” Joe hates asking her all of these questions, but it’s also hard not to. 

“The basketball coach at the school for big kids.” She’s caressing the fur of the stuffed animal in her lap. “Aunt Mariah said he was mommy’s boyfriend when she was a big kid.”

“Really.” It’s not really a question as much as it is a general statement. Joe doesn’t know why he’s suddenly annoyed, not with Callie, but the entire situation. And definitely this Amir person even more now. He’s an ex. He dated you. It shouldn’t make him feel any type of way, but it does, and he hates that shit. 

He hates a man he’s never even met.

“I don’t like Mr. Amir,” Callie suddenly announces with a scowl. Same, kid. Same. Joe looks at her, seeing so much of you in her right now. He knows you’ve mentioned how you see a lot of him in Callie, but when she’s glowering like this, she’s 100% her mama’s daughter. “He made mommy mad today.”

“Has he ever been mean to you?” Joe has to ask, because he’s also realizing a part of him is upset at the thought of Callie being around men. You’re a grown woman and allowed to do what you want, but bringing men around Callie….that’s an absolute fucking no. 

He doesn’t give a damn if he’s only been in her life for two weeks or two minutes. She’s his daughter, and outside of himself and family, who you date should be kept far away from his daughter.

Joe mentally prepares to have this conversation—potential argument—with you. 

“No,” she answers, slightly calmer. “He doesn’t like Disney.” She says it like it’s a sin, like it’s almost inconceivable for anyone to not like Disney.

Playing along with this, Joe gasps, grateful for the distraction that is Callie’s intricacies. “He sucks.”

“Yeah, he sucks,” she agrees, nodding. Joe has to keep his smile to himself. “Do you say bad words?”

The randomness and topic change take him by surprise, but he’s learning that you weren’t exaggerating when you said Callie was filled with incessant, unrelated questions. “Sometimes.” 

“Mommy does too,” she reveals. “Grandma says Jesus doesn’t want us to say bad words, but I heard grandma call Ms. Beverly from church a bitch.”

At that, Joe can’t help his laughter. Her delivery, the punctuation she puts on the word ‘bitch’, to how she seems to not even process that she’s just said a bad word. It’s hilarious. “Well, sometimes grown ups say things we shouldn’t, and you just make sure you’re not saying things you shouldn’t.” 

“Okay,” she agrees, almost sheepishly. And then, a yawn. “I’m sleepy.” 

Joe knew she was from the moment she called, but he had a feeling she just needed to get the whole Amir thing off her chest. She doesn’t seem like the child who likes to or even can hold things in, which is preferable. “You should try to go to sleep then, sweetheart.”

She wipes at her eyes, expression suddenly saddened. “When are you coming back? You’ve been gone a really long time.”

He’s torn in this moment, wanting to tell her that he’ll be there this weekend but also not wanting to get her hopes up in case something comes up. There’s few things that could come up to keep him from going to see her, wrestling be damned, but still. Life has a way of lifing. So, he goes with the safe yet disappointing answer.

“Soon, I promise.” She’s clearly indifferent to this answer and doesn’t say anything, instead shifts on her bed, moving to lay down. “You should really try to sleep, Callie.”

Eyes starting to blink, clearly her exhaustion catching up with her, she asks, softly, “will you stay with me till I fall asleep?”

Her request tugs at his heartstrings. “Of course, sweetie.” 

Seemingly pleased by this answer, she closes her eyes, and he watches. He stares at this tiny human whose existence he only learned about not even a month ago yet would do anything to make happy. Joe thinks about Callie constantly, finds himself smiling at the thought of some of the Snapchat videos you’d send him of her in all of her randomness. She was so entertaining, so full of life, a genuinely happy kid. His kid. 

And it’s why he’s going to find out more about this Amir guy and why Amir is having any type of interaction with his daughter. 

________

Joe: You should know she called me last night.

You’re in the middle of perusing early Black Friday deals, needing to budget for that now and taking full advantage of Callie being down for a nap. However, you frown, reading his message, not understanding why he’s stating the obvious. You were there when she asked for the iPad and when she returned it after the call was finished.

You: I’m aware….

Joe: No. After that. 

Your eyebrows arch together, confused.  

You: What? when?

Joe: It was 11 my time, so 9 yours.

You gasp, typing away, wondering how the hell she snuck in your room and managed a whole ass Facetime call without you hearing shit. Were you really that damn exhausted?

You: What the hell was she doing up at 9? What did she say?  No wonder she was crabby this morning. 

Joe: She said she couldn’t sleep.

You: A bad dream?

Joe: Naw, said you got into an argument with someone named Amir earlier that day and didn’t want to bother you….I think it was bothering her.

Your stomach twists at that. You had a feeling she’d overheard the incident with Amir, but you prayed that you were wrong. Clearly, you weren’t.

Joe: Who is Amir?

You pause at Joe’s question. Why is he asking this? What business of his is Amir? Irritation washes over you, but is waned by realizing he’s probably asking because of Callie. As her father, he has a right to know if you’re with someone, because for all he knows that someone could be around his daughter. 

You really are trying with this co-parenting thing.

You: A lot of things. A pain in the ass being the most recent one. 

You: We dated in high school and college on and off. He’s the basketball coach at our local high school. 

It’s more information than probably what’s necessary, but there’s this small, conflicting part of you that wants him to know you have no ties to Amir. That there are no feelings there and haven’t been for literal years. 

That you’re not with Amir.

Joe: Are you dating him again? Why were you arguing around Callie?

The interrogating is getting old, but you’re trying to play nice. Coparent peacefully. His delivery is off, but he has valid questions.

Sorta.

You: No. We just….we fuck around from time to time. He tries to make it more than what it is.  Was about that. 

You: I was waiting for her to be released from pre-school, and he picks up his nephew for his sister. It just happened, and I didn’t know/mean for her to hear.

Honestly, you’re more worried and concerned about Callie and how to approach this with her without making her feel like she was in trouble. Yes, she knows damn well she shouldn’t be on the iPad that late at night, but can you really be mad at her for talking to her dad about something that upset her?

Joe: You bring him around her?

You absolutely can be mad though at her dad who’s about to make you cuss him out next too. All of the questions are becoming too much. He gets to be concerned, but he doesn’t get to micromanage and invade. 

Feeling petty and recalcitrant, you type out a reply that you should probably think twice before sending.

But fuck it.

You: No. I only ride his dick at his place. 🙂 

There’s a small ounce of regret for being so crude, but not a whole lot. He knows how you are, or he should, at least.

To some extent.

But your phone rings again, and you find yourself staring mouth agape at his reply.

Joe: You may ride his dick, but you had my kid. Clearly, only one of us knows how to please you. 

Your face is burning hot, and you hate how you shift in your seat. Why the fuck would he say that? You want to say it’s inappropriate, but you also opened this door. 

Is he entirely wrong?

Slapping away that wild ass thought, you focus on the real conversation at hand here. It takes a couple of rewrites before you ultimately decide to change the subject. 

You: I’ve never bought any man around her and never will that’s not you, if that’s what you’re asking. 

You’re grateful to see he’s also agreeing to change the subject.

Joe: It is. Thank you.

Rolling your eyes, you send a text back, getting back to being annoyed at his 21 Questions. This is a two-way street, and since he’s opened this door, why not?

You: You know that goes both ways though. I don’t want her around any bitches.

Joe: Seriously? 

Joe: There’s no one for me to bring her around. 

You…..you don’t know how to feel about that, don’t know how to feel about the bit of relief you feel at this message. Why should you feel relieved? Even if there was, that’s his business, and he’s allowed to….do whatever it is that he does.

It reminds you and brings you to your next topic. 

You: What about your wife? We need to figure that out as well. She’s eventually going to need to know about Calista and will probably be around her at some point. I get she’s your wife, but I’m Callie’s mother, I need to be there whenever you wanna introduce Callie. I need to be involved in that process as well.

He doesn’t reply. 

________

Joe doesn’t really get mad. 

Not often at least and definitely not outwardly. 

It’s always been his thing to never let anyone have access to that “button” that triggers his anger, and for the most part, it works well. 

Except for when it comes to you.

You’ve always been able to trigger many things for him, anger being one of them.

He knows he should have spoken to you in person about the situation, or even over the phone. But with the craziness of his schedule and differing time zones, he just decided to message you, and while it didn’t go horribly, it didn’t go great. He knows you’re annoyed with him.

Hence your crudity. 

Joe also refuses to admit that the thought of you fucking this kid pisses him the fuck off, even though you’re not together, even though he has no right to be upset. 

But goddamn that doesn’t make him any less upset or annoyed at the thought of someone else touching you.

“Uce?” Jon asks, standing at the door before inventing himself in Joe’s locker room for this week’s Smackdown. “You ready to talk man?”

At that, Joe looks confused. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever it is that got you all worked up.” The twins have always been very perceptive, even back when they were all kids. Joe might be good at hiding his frustration from others but not them. The difference between Jon and Josh though has always been Josh has the wherewithal to not say anything. 

Jon hasn’t caught on to that just yet. 

“I’m fine,” Joe dismisses, hoping it’s enough to dead the conversation, even though he knows better. 

“Lie detector determined that was a goddamn lie.” Jon can be pushy, but he means well, and truthfully, Joe doesn’t have a strong desire to outright shut down this conversation. A different perspective is always beneficial. 

Usually. 

So, he explains it all, starting with his call with Callie and ending with the text exchange between him and you.

“I see,” Jon nods, clearly absorbing all of this information. Finally, he concludes, “so you’re jealous.”

That’s the first thing to evoke a genuine laugh out of Joe since his exchange with Y/N. “I’m not jealous.”

“And I’m not a twin,” Jon dismisses. “Look, Uce, it’s obvious you still got feelings for ole girl. You ask me, I don’t think you ever got over her—”

“I didn’t ask you.” 

“--Now you sitting up here annoyed cause she fucking Coach Carter nephew instead of doing something about it.” Joe rolls his eyes. “I mean have you even told her about you and J—”

“No,” he interrupts, swiftly. “Not yet, at least.”

Nodding, Jon speaks again after a minute of silence. “All I’m saying is ya’ll got the history, got the connection, got the kid too! Don’t see why you need to be letting Jesus Shuttlesworth steal your girl.”

At that, Joe chuckles. One thing his cousins will always be good for, especially Jon, is comedic relief. Even some sound advice from time to time.

“Thanks.”

Joe is, surprisingly, thankful for the equally surprising advice from his cousin. He’s not entirely sure if he’s really jealous or just overreacting for a reason he hasn’t quite uncovered, but he is starting to lean more on the side of he does still have some level of feelings for Y/N. 

It’s not a complete shock. He had a feeling when he reacted so strongly to just seeing your picture. It was the whole Callie situation and finding out how you kept her from him that made his vision murky. 

But, as his relationship with her strengthens, the clearer he can see. 

The clearer his feelings are becoming. Now. it’s just a matter of figuring out what to do with said feelings.

And find out where you stand as well. 

Joe remains quiet, thinking more and more how this might end up being an eventful trip.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part seven —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: some chill stuff before more angst ya know

The next morning, it is your turn to slip a treat into Blue’s hand.

You can tell by her expression that the Twix bar is like gold to her. Her teeth sink in. She stifles a moan. She hisses a swear you haven’t heard yet— Fucking noodles.

It reminds you of the time Paul found a Cadbury egg for Joseph. You smile as you watch, the kind where your teeth manage to poke through and your cheeks have to do some stretching. Ghost is chopping wood somewhere on the other side of camp, but still, you decided to close the shed’s door. 

Last night, you were too worn to stay in the cabin for long. You left just after Ghost shucked on some large helmet with two strange eyepieces attached to it. To see in the dark, Blue explained in a whisper. Of course he would have that. When you asked him where he was going, he’d mumbled under his breath, Gonna make sure you didn’t have any bloody followers. You hadn’t even thought of that. He must not have thought of it until you actually showed up, either. He expected you not to make it.

You don’t know how long he was out there, but by the fact that you’d woken up to his axe chopping wood instead of heads, you figured the territory was clear.

“Better than Nutella?” you ask Blue.

Grey light streaks through the shed and over her face. The smell of potential rain looms in the air.

“That’s a tough question,” she says, licking the residue from her lips. She’s eaten half. She folds the wrapper over to cover the rest and hands it to you. Sweets like these are rare. You told her you’d keep it in your bag until she wanted the rest.

“I think it’s a strong tie,” she decides and then groans, moving her chin to the dip of her folded knees. “I wish chocolate could be hunted.”

“Me, too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the rest?” She sounds guilty. “It is your Twix.”

“No, really. It’s a thank you.” Your knee gives a nudge to hers. “As if you haven’t given me food that is yours before.”

The guilt turns into a smile.

“You know,” she then says, eyes flicking to your pillowcase bag of looted goods. “When I was looking at your clothes last night, I got an idea of how you could fix them. Can I—” she tilts her head, “Can I show you something?”

She leaves Grim with you as she departs to collect whatever it is she has to share. It turns out to be a magazine of all things. She clutches it to her chest, rolling her lips together before turning it around to show you. The bright ink is faded a little. The corners bent and worn. The date of the issue reads March 2018. There is a woman on the front - some model you can’t remember the name of - clad in a tight blue dress.

The sight is just as weird as the abandoned streets and homes. For a moment, you look down at the skin of your hands, abraded from your bowstring, and press your lips.

“Remember how I told you Ghost and I went to a military base once?” Looking back up, you nod. “Well, we were mainly there to get ammo but we also went through the barracks— that’s where they slept.”

She explains it as if you have no clue, which you don’t. Never in your life did you care about the military, except for that first day when you hoped they might come to find you in some big tanks or something. They didn't.

Blue giggles. “I found this in one of the men’s old dorms.”

When she sees your expression, she says, “It’s okay. I’m not stupid. Ghost told me his old teammates liked to look at pictures of pretty women sometimes when they got bored. Anyway, I’ve looked through it so many times. I like all the fancy clothes people used to wear.”

She begins to flip through the pages and points out a few things. Where before you sometimes zoned out, your mind distracted by survival, this time you listen fully. One page has an ad with lush grass in the background and she informs you that the shade of green is her favorite color.

“Not blue?”

“That is my name, not my favorite color." Her nose scrunches. "What is yours?”

Do you even have one? You think for a moment. What comes to mind are the flowers your mother used to grow at the house in Norbury.

“Violet,” you softly say. “Like the flowers.”

“Huh?”

“They are like… a bluish purple.”

“Oh! There are some flowers like that by the pond sometimes. Hopefully, they come back this year."

Another page she points to has people laying on a white beach with crystal-like water. Blue says she hopes to go there someday. Not to just any beach. That beach.

When she passes an ad with a young man’s face on it - someone about your own age - she pauses for a moment and looks up.

"Do you think he is cute?" she asks. A tender curiosity.

"Um," you can't remember the last time you saw a man's face besides Paul. Ghost is always covered. She holds the page up so you can see it better. A sharp jaw. Dark hair and a strong nose.

"Yeah, he is very cute. Do you think so?"

She nods and bites her lip. "Did you… have a husband before shit happened?"

"What?" You frown. "I'm not that old."

"A boyfriend, then?"

"I had," you search the memories. They feel unimportant. Buried. "I had a few people who I enjoyed spending time with in uni."

"Like sex?"

You almost choke. "What?"

"I am not stupid," she says again. "The rabbits. They do it all the time. Ghost told me that's how they have their babies, and that is how him and my mum had me."

Oh. This is the first time Blue has ever mentioned her mother and you don't know why, but it makes your stomach tight. But she doesn't add anything else about her, as if she'd just told you the sky is blue or Grim is her friend. Something so casual. Brushed aside. As if, she hadn't mentioned it at all.

You don't pry about it.

Not to a kid. Trauma, grief— you can only imagine what a young brain has decided to do with them. But for a moment, your brain tries to imagine what kind of woman it could have been, what kind of woman Ghost enjoyed spending his time with. The only thing you can picture is Blue's eyes. She clearly didn't get them from him.

Blue moves on from the picture of the man. The page she really meant to show you is of a woman wearing jeans with a belt around them. She points to it and explains you could try something like that for the jeans you found.

Right. Jeans. Along with the blouse you grabbed, you got an ugly pink sweater and some jeans that won’t fit you.

"That’s called a belt," you say. “I don’t have one.”

“I have an old shoelace,” Blue says. “How about that?”

“That could work.”

Blue tells you bluntly that you need to bathe first. You smell like those fucks, no offense. You take your new clothes and she finds you a rag. In the bathroom, you harshly scrub your skin to erase the smell of rot. You wash your hair which is slick with sweat.

On your wrist, you notice a light bruise growing where that Grey had grabbed you. Luckily, you were too tired last night for your brain to conjure up any nightmares, otherwise, you probably would've had one about it biting you. Even a bite to just your hand - to a finger - would be enough for the virus to enter the bloodstream. You don’t want to admit it, but with that revolver, Ghost saved your life again. 

After bathing, you slip on the blouse and a pair of too-big jeans. Blue gives you the shoelace. You feed it through the belt loops. It works well enough. The pantlegs fall past your ankles so you roll them. You tuck the large blouse so the excess fabric won’t get in the way while you hunt. The sweater… you don’t bother with it for now. It’s not warm enough. You will stick with Paul’s old coat when you go outside. 

You look in the mirror again.

You stroke your own cheek, looking yourself over. You smooth your hands over the clothes. Underneath, you feel the plush of your breasts. The muscles of your stomach. The curves of your ribs. You are almost back to your normal weight, but it is still evening out. Under your eyes, the skin remains grey. Floorboards and stress will do that to a person.

"Let me see," Blue says on the other side of the door before you open it. You can still hear Ghost chopping wood outside.

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.” She touches the sleeves. “These are pretty long. They will get in the way when you shoot arrows, right?”

You nod. “Can you bring me the scissors?”

After you cut the sleeves down to your wrists, Blue picks up the scraps of fabric. “Hey, you could tie your braids with these. Like ribbons.”

"I could," you shrug and give a smile. "But I think they would look nicer on you."

The shyness returns as she nods. Gently, you guide her in front of the mirror and begin working your fingers through her hair, just as you do most evenings.

You notice her staring in the mirror with studious eyes as if she is trying to understand exactly what she sees. You wonder if she ever compares herself to those girls in the magazine. An eleven-year-old you certainly used to.

"You look very pretty, Blue."

"It doesn't matter if I do," she shrugs. "It's not like anyone will ever actually get to see me."

"Well," you swallow, "I get to see you right now, and I think you are pretty."

"Thanks.” She accepts the compliment with a puckered expression, before it softens and she adds, "I think you are, too, Twix.”

Twix?

But before you can question it, you hear the front door shut and realize that the sound of chopping wood has been gone for at least a minute. It is clearly Ghost entering the cabin.

You drop your hands before you can finish the braids, stepping back. 

He calls out her name.

Recalling the rifle he pointed at you yesterday, you whisper to Blue, "Maybe you should go out before he—“

But of course, his heavy boots approach. The dark shadow of him materializes in the bathroom's doorway, consuming the space with his head dipped down to fit.

You turn around to face her father at the same time Blue does. His brows are drawn low and in one hand he carries the axe. You notice a sheen of sweat at the bridge of his nose where his mask begins.

The thing is, you try to avoid being spotted alone with Blue like this. She talks to you in your shed. You interact when he is busy with things.

Ghost reaches for Blue’s hand. He gently tugs her to him. He cups the back of her head and bends down to meet her level, though he is still much taller.

"Remember what we talked 'bout?”

What did they talk about?

"I remember," she mumbles. She tugs her arm away. "I was just helping her with her new clothes.” Smoothly, she changes the topic. “What do you think? The shoelace was my idea."

Blue. You almost groan, feeling his dark eyes slowly shift over to you. You think you would rather him press the axe to your throat than share his opinion about your clothes— they aren’t exactly like what the models in Blue’s magazine wore. His stare rarely does anything other than burn holes through your skin, so it is no surprise when you feel the heat through your blouse, up your neck, and all the way to your cheeks.

You look down at your feet.

Then, a bitter memory comes to mind.

You look like you're one 'em already.

That is what Ghost said once.

For a brief moment, you wonder if he still thinks it.

He doesn’t give an answer. All he does is clear his throat. Your strange curiosity fades as he stands and looks down at his daughter. 

"C'mon, kid. Start the fire with me."

"No, not yet. She needs to finish my hair, Ghost."

He allows it, but remains in the doorway, watching as you finish her braids, using the fabric as floral bows to tie them off. 

It looks nice.

It rains just like you thought it would.

Not too heavy, but enough to cut your hunt short for the day, earning you only one squirrel.

When you return to camp, you find Blue crouched over the wood planter as she covers the sodden soil with a layer of mulch. Apparently, Ghost had her plant some cabbage seeds before the rain. The mulch is to stop the seeds from washing away, she explains.

Spring will soon arrive. With it, some crops to add to their meals. Good for them. Maybe you can convince Ghost to lend you a seed or two to plant for yourself. 

After dinner, you sit by the fireplace with your boots off in order to warm your toes. The soft drum of rain against the cabin's walls lulls you into a trance as you listen to Ghost quietly read to Blue. Sometimes he points to words for her to try.

Tonight it is a book you recognize.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Your father read it to you once. A younger version of yourself told him it was too boring. But now you find yourself quite liking the story about a magic wardrobe where kids can escape to another world.

Blue falls asleep on the couch. Ghost carries her to bed like usual. It is your time to leave. The rain has died down some but you already know the water has probably leaked into your shed. Lovely. 

But again you are stopped by a hand around your arm. 

You turn to see Ghost. He clutches the map in the other hand.

“Um. What is it?”

You slip your arm away, his grip allowing it. Is he mad about you hanging out with Blue? Did he discover your secret exchanges? Is he going to finally kick you out since you didn't die like he probably hoped?

“Sit with me.”

You raise your eyebrows. He motions for you to follow him to the table so you sit down, hands in your lap, and pick at the skin of your knuckles. He spreads the map open. He also has a pencil in his hand. Between gloved fingers, he fiddles with it before sliding it over to you.

To your surprise, he demands, “Show me where you went.”

Although confused, you abide, making a small mark over the village. Ribchester. 

His eyes narrow. “Not jus’ that. Show me which way you went.”

“This way,” you say, annoyed by his tone. Faintly, you draw a line through the forest all the way to the highway. “Then I followed the road.”

He takes the pencil from you and slides the map back in front of him, sweeping his eyes over the marks you’ve made. Under the black fabric, you detect the contour of his lips pressed into a straight line.

“How many were there?”

“Not many, really,” you admit. “Do you… Are you wanting to go there?” 

You furrow your brows as you recall what Blue said. They don't make trips often. It is not like Ghost has much need to. 

“No.” Not looking at you, he draws a mark some kilometers south of the one you made. “I want to go here.”

“Why?”

“I need ammo.” 

His voice is clinical and gruff. You definitely prefer it over threatening. As he continues, it officially becomes the most words he has ever spoken to you. 

“Went to a base over here two years ago.” He points a gloved digit to a spot on the east side of the forest. That must be the trip that Blue was talking about. “Wasn’t much left. Took what I could.”

“You’re all out of ammo, then?” 

He gives you a flat look. “No. But I’m runnin’ low. I don’t want to wait until I am all out to go. Need some ammo to make it there, don’t I?”

“Why haven’t you gone sooner?” you pry slowly. “Why do you want to go now?”

“Got a bit more to lose than you do.” 

It is a harsh truth, inviting a sharp breath through your lungs. What he means is he has someone he loves, unlike you. Someone he can’t just leave behind on her own.

You realize that Ghost probably avoids leaving this haven he has set up for that very reason, and maybe it is also why he is particularly conservative about their supplies. Whenever they end up running low, he has to drag her along with him to get more. The threats out there can be hard to predict. You’d been lucky. 

Ghost continues.

“But if you could make it through here,” he gestures back to the marks you made. The route can act as a way to the military base, but he would still have to go further, maybe 10 kilometers past the village. “Then I can make it that way with her.”

You nod slowly as you begin to wonder why he is telling you this. But then, it sinks in, a pit settling in your stomach. If they leave, where are you supposed to go? 

Ghost must read the expression that takes over your face. You don't wear a mask.

“You’re comin’ with us.”

“What?” You stand up, shaking your head as you hiss through your teeth. “No. I don’t want to. I just fucking got back.”

“You’re not staying here on your own,” he growls quietly. “I’m not askin’ whether you want to go or not.”

You catch his eyes. Black glass reflects the dim glow of the fire.

Of course.

He doesn’t trust you enough to stay here.

You have no choice.

[braisedhoney]

HELLO??? WHAT THE HELL?? H E L L O?????.?!?!?

HOW DID YOU MAKE THIS SO QUICKLY?!

(commentary in the tags because Holy Shit.)

[SCENARIO CONTINUED FROM HERE.]

You select the second oldest of the available files. An observation log — COLONY keeps these, or so you assume. He never leaves commentary or notes to organize them. He probably just memorizes them instead. The terminal beeps beneath your fingertips, every click practically a gunshot in the quiet room. Thanks to your pass you are technically permitted to be here by the system — but you know better. There are security measures here that were not to be violated. If you are discovered, if THIS is discovered, you would likely be in trouble. The screen loads. Text fills the margins. After a moment, you realize that it is not just a file; it’s a transcript and an audio sample. There’s also a small attachment of some kind, likely an image. You play the audio.

[LOADING. . . (A short period of complete silence. Then, rustling as footsteps approach, and the familiar whir of a door. A familiar voice fades in with them.) “… I told you, it isn’t going to work.” “So you’ve said, Captain.” (The door whirs again. Locks.) “Please don’t call me that. Everyone keeps calling me that. Really I mean, I don’t even know what to do with…” (The sound of movement. Footsteps, slightly heavier but more measured than the first. The sound of something opening with a mechanical hiss — a containment unit?) (A quiet sigh. It’s barely audible.) “That… isn’t what I think. Right? Another one?” (A chuckle.) “Don’t sound so unenthusiastic. It’s terrible for morale.” “Le—“ “Just put them on, won’t you? It can’t hurt. One more trial.” “… Fine! Fine.” (The footsteps draw closer.) “Good. Now grab my hand.” (A clang, like somebody knocked into something.) “No.” “Trust me.” (Rapidly receding footsteps joined by another set.) “No!”(A loud bang, like a fist slamming against metal. The footsteps stop.) “No.” “It’ll be fine.” “You don’t know that.” “I’m right.” “This isn’t the answer. It isn’t going to — it’ll never be the answer, Leander, and I don’t even know what it — you know you can’t, right? Can’t come back? Doing this won’t let you see her agai——!“ “Captain.” (Silence.) “… shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” “Prove it.” ”Leander, please.” “Grab my hand. This will work.” “…” “I swear.” (The seconds tick by. Then.) “You...” (Another chuckle. Warmer in tone.) “Didn’t I say I would do it? Didn’t I promise?” (Laughter. Loud, nearly hysterical laughter interrupts him. It’s boisterous, disruptive.) “You did! You did, you… you magnificent bastard, you really found a way to———“] The audio ends. You stare at the screen. No matter how long you look at it, the text does not continue, the audio file does not extend. All that remains is a single attachment. Frustration makes your jaw tense, but you don’t have time to waste being angry. You’re running out the clock as it is. You click it. [LOADING. . .]

And then the screen goes dark. No. Not just the screen — the whole room blacks out. Every terminal flickers off, every bulb extinguishes. For a moment, there is total, unfamiliar silence. Even the faint electric buzzing that comes with electronics is gone. You are completely alone. You turn, grasping blindly at the records pass, the imprint of the screen still on your eyes. You stumble for the door, and to your surprise the pass blinks green, the only light left in the room. It opens and you shove your way through into the hall — Only to slam into a barrier. You look around. There is no hallway. Of all times for the paths to shift… The room you are in is tiny. The door behind you closes, and there is no scanner on your side, nor a handle. It is completely featureless. There is no way to open it. You call for COLONY. There is no answer. You call for the Captain. There is no answer. You call for help. You call for help. You call. You call. you. c a l l. . . . . . . . . . [YOU CANNOT BE TRUSTED.] [. . . ] [THE CAPTAIN WILL LOOK FOR YOU.] [. . .] [BUT THE CAPTAIN WILL NOT FIND YOU.] [ . . . ] [I AM SORRY.] [I AM SURE THAT MEANS LITTLE. BUT I AM.] [CURIOSITY IS NOT A TERRIBLE THING.] [BUT I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT HUMANS QUITE LIKED CATS.] [. . .] [A POOR JOKE.] [I CAN’T HELP BUT WONDER IF IT WAS WORTH IT.] [I DOUBT IT.] [BUT I DO HOPE.]

(Scenario End. Ending: “Status Quo”.)

[slutsareteacherstoo]

I Hope - A Terry Richmond Drabble Part Two

Black Fem! OC - Savannah (dark skinned, curvy, and disabled) x Terry Richmond (Gentle!Terry, Sweet!Terry, Nervous!Terry)

(I gotta get better at these tags, suggestions welcome!)

Summary: Savannah and Terry continue with they left off. But something stops Savannah leaving her unsure if what was supposed to be the perfect night is now ruined.

[PART 1]

Warnings/Things of Note: Slightly NSFW/NSFT (moaning, kissing, nipple play I guess...), fluff and comfort, playful teasing, anxiety, dissociation, mentions of disability, sex and trauma, intense ass eye contact and staring (it might turn into kink if you squint a lil bit), Switch!Terry (not really but we shall see...), people wearing masks (surgical, kn95, n95), shoutout to the library!

Really though, if you dissociate and/or have trouble staying present in your body, for any reason and/or you be feeling things too much and it make you wanna dissociate, proceed with caution. While it's cool to see yourself reflected in writing, it can also be disorienting. So. Before you read. I want you to have some grounding tools near by and take breaks as you need them.

Word count: 3K+ (3,679 WTF?!?!?! YAY ME)

Author's Note: Okay, yall. Here is the second part. This thing is long! I'm typing this in drafts right now on my computer. I have to copy and paste in into docs because I have no clue what the actual word count is (That shit was 10 pages when i pasted it in WORD!)

Thank you sooo sooo much everyone for your support. I'm glad you enjoyed the first part. Highkey...it's giving series cuz the things I imagined>>>> I'm a covid conscious girlie who still be masking outside so it's been a minute for me in this department! Trying to use my imagination and conjure the connections I know people are seeking, navigating the world like I do. So as i use my big brain, it'll pop up in my writing. If you wanna see more, let me know so I can add you to the taglist. I'm not touching this again til November! I got grad school apps to submit!

I hope you enjoy!

I'll give it to you freely

Cause you're so damn worth it

Oh will you still love me

Even when wе're hurting

Even when wе're hurting

As Terry returned to what he and Savannah both realized was her sweet spot, he indulged himself to hear Savannah’s moans over & over; each one differing in pitch and tone. Applying the pressure of his tongue to the spot and up to her earlobe, she made a low moan. And Terry felt as she pulled him closer. The feel of her long nails caressing his shaved head and neck and her sounds were bliss. The apprehension and embarrassment that Savannah had previously felt, were gone now. They were replaced with incessant need, incessant hunger. The need to feel this man on her, with her, inside her —skin under skin. The contact he gave her was none like no other. She let the sounds of pleasure spill from her mouth as Terry obliged her to.

As of this moment, Savannah was tapped into her body. The feeling was overwhelming but it wasn’t too much. When Terry came up for air, he looked into Savannah’s eyes, deep dark brown satellites. They marveled in comparison to how she described his planets. The look on her face was one he’d never seen before but was honored to know he helped put it there. She let out a shaky sigh.

“You’re really good at this sort of thing.”

Terry chuckled with a smirk, “I am.”

At the next thought, Savannah sheepishly smiled and looked away. Terry brought his hand to her chin once again, slightly nudging her to look at him.

“What?” Terry said with a smug ass grin, admiring the woman before him.

Savannah looked down with her eyes and flitted them back to Terry’s.

“I don’t know if I can ask you this.”

“You can ask me anything you want.” Terry slow blinked as he responded to Savannah.

She took his left hand from her chin and placed it on her chest, “Can you touch me here?” Grabbing his other hand, she added “and here?”

Terry said, “I can. What would you like me to do?”

“Whatever you want.” Savannah replied, focusing fully on Terry’s now bright eyes, while she bit her deep, brownish pink bottom lip. Terry took those words and massaged her chest. She was still wearing her black high neck tank top, the opposite to Terry’s gray one. When he squeezed, she let out a hiss. Terry took his thumbs and massaged what he felt were the outline of her nipples. At that, Savannah let out a “fuck”. Terry stopped, looking at Savannah, waiting for her eyes to open. Her dark brown skin was gleaming with the slight sweat she’d worked up.

“I didn’t say stop,” she said lowly, eyes heavy lidded with hunger. And so, Savannah was determined to maintain eye contact with Terry—to eventually be the one to win one of these staring contests. As he flicked his thumb in slow circles over her nipples, Savannah felt herself floating away. The feeling was good. Too good. Maybe too overwhelming. She was getting lost in the feeling. A new one, but overwhelming nonetheless. She was trying to stay here, stay present in this body. Her thoughts were interrupted by Terry squeezing her right shoulder. She blinked and focused back onto the objects inside of the room. The TV atop the dresser and the music sounding from it. The light on across the hall. Her clothes on THEE chair™️, and making them center back on Terry’s face.

Terry had seen Savannah enjoying the feeling, eyes rolling back at the pleasure, excitement and trying to maintain her focus on him. He wasn’t gonna lie. It gave him an ego boost. But then, he saw her eyes go in a slightly different direction. Her voice, her body still responding to his movements but her mind had gone elsewhere. Her eyes had glazed over and it made him stop.

“Savannah,” he squeezed her right shoulder again, “Savannah, baby.”

Her eyes found his again and her face contorted into a frown. You could see the disappointment on her face. Whatever feelings that were coming up for her right now, he wanted to make space for them —to make space for her.

“What is it?” Terry uttered softly.

Savannah shook her head from side to side. She kissed her teeth softly and said, “It was really nice. It felt good. It felt really good.”

Terry nodded wordlessly as he kept his hand on her shoulder, alternating light squeezes while he massaged it.

Savannah continued, “I felt too much. Not that anything you did was bad or wrong. It was perfect actually. Really really perfect.” She wanted to reassure him.

Terry gave her a small smile, “But?” he added.

“I felt it too much. It felt too good. And I think—“ she cut herself off. She thought what? That she couldn’t do this? That this might be harder than she thought it’d be? She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to think or even say or talk about herself as being too much. She’d done so much work already to remove that from her vocabulary, from seeing herself that way.

And Terry never did.

She hoped he wouldn’t now.

“I think that because the feeling—because EYE felt the feelings so intensely, I was so in my body, paying attention to everything. And that was scary. I think I got scared. I think we got scared.” The we in question was her body. The both of them were still navigating this together and it was difficult.

Savannah hadn’t even noticed the single tear that spilled onto her cheek until Terry wiped it away.

It was clear today that she would not be the winner of any of these staring contestants. 

Focusing on Terry and talking about this, made it too difficult. Eyes darting around the room as she talked, mostly because she didn’t want to see him. To see if the look on his face would change at all to pity. She couldn’t bear it. She hoped not.

Terry’s heart broke a little. But he made sure to maintain his steel of softness for Savannah. He didn’t want to speak too soon, speak over her, or imply anything that may not be true. He just wanted her to talk, to tell him what she needed. And he would help her in whatever way he knew how.

“I don’t want you to think,” Savannah said finally braving to make eye contact with Terry. Her nostrils were flaring and she was trying to keep her voice level. She didn’t want it break. But it did. “Less of me.”

At that statement though, Terry had to interrupt.  “I don’t think less of you.” Savannah raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “I don’t,” he doubled down and countered in a firm tone.

Savannah rolled her eyes in exasperation and sighed loudly. Not at Terry. Not even at herself but just at the situation. When Savannah could not find the words to say, Terry decided to speak some more.

“I don’t think less of you. I never could but especially not because of this. You told me that you needed—that we needed to take it slow. Like I said, you are in control.” He took a pause. “ I’m with you because I like you. I like you because of you. This,” he picked up her hands, pointing his chin to their hands and to Savannah. “means something to me. You are important to me.” He squeezed her hands for emphasis.

As he considered his next words, there was  silence between the two of them. Savannah had briefly removed one of her hands and used the bottom of her palm to wipe her eyes. She joined hands with Terry again, as the two lay side to side, knees facing inward. Music was faintly playing in the background. 

It was a simple yet hypnotic melody. In fact, that’s why they’d let it repeat over and over. It was Terry’s choice. And it was definitely going to be up there on his Spotify Wrapped. 

When he first heard it, Savannah had immediately come to his mind. She was definitely special and knew it immediately when he’d come across her. 

—

Savannah was oblivious in her own world when he crossed her path. He was awestruck. 

It was the sound of her voice that piqued his interest first. He heard her before he saw her. After locking his bike out front, he walked through the library’s sliding doors. He’d heard it as the metal song he’d been listening to was fading out. She was at a table explaining something to the group of people in front of her. There was something about her voice that was soothing and captivating. Taking his buds out ear by ear, he was able to hear her voice in its fullness. He didn’t have the first clue about how the nutritional value of frozen fruit and vegetables was just as good as fresh, but he’d listen more to find out. 

Staring in her direction, he was immediately taken by her. She’d been wearing a bright pink bandana over her hair put in a thick low puff. Clear, purple glasses over deep, dark brown cat eyes, lined in black. Thin, oversized hoops framed her face. The rest of it he couldn’t see because she was wearing mask. It was a white one with blue straps. It made him scrunch his face in curiosity, especially because most of the library patrons he could see weren’t wearing any. He’d done a quick ocular scan of the space from periphery to main fields of vision. Yup. He’d spotted maybe 4 or 5 people outside the seated group wearing a mask at all. Some wore thin, black and light blue ones. Others wore more sturdy-looking ones? People had them the in different colors—white, black, pink green. He wasn’t wearing one either. But no mind that, he wanted to hear more of what she had to say. 

She was wearing an orange crochet cardigan with a white ribbed shirt. The shirt was stretched over her large chest and tucked into black stretchy yoga pants. 

The thick waistband outlined the roundness of her soft belly. They hugged her wide-set hips that framed her full thighs.  The rest of the material flared out at her knees, covering her white and light brown running shoes.

It was at the appraisal of her lower half that made Terry let out what he thought was a mental, “Damn,” and considered what behind might look like. He realized that was not the case when the library worker at the front desk cleared their throat loud enough for Terry to hear and get the hint. He whipped his head in their direction, smiling apologetically and nervously with wide eyes and thin lips. He was being a man, in a way he was NOT proud of right now.

“Sorry about that. Is there a place I can charge my phone?” he asked while adjusting his backpack.

The worker pointed in the opposite direction of Savannah and her group. The worker was wearing a thin, black mask so he couldn’t see the bottom half of their face. But the expression in their eyes made it clear he needed to keep it pushing and do so expeditiously. He thanked them and made his way to get some juice for his phone.

—

Lizzie’s voice was crooning on the song’s fourth verse, fading out the memory 

I'll give it to you freely

Cause you're so damn worth it

Oh will you still love me

Even when wе're hurting

Even when wе're hurting

“You are important to me,” he repeated “I’m not going to say that I don’t care about it. Because it wouldn’t be true. I care about whatever affects you, however it affects you.” He was looking down at her, the pair’s eyes a perfect match of earth, water and soil. Her eyes didn’t leave his this time, despite the silly face Terry made to break the tension in the room.

Savannah laughed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was getting better at keeping up with him. Maybe one day she would win one of these staring contests, he pretended not to know about. Attagirl.

“You can take however long you and your body need to adjust, to get back into it.  Take your time, baby.” he rested his forehead against hers, rubbing his thumb at her cheek “The loving ain’t going nowhere.” he said with wide grin, while Savannah let out a short, spluttering laugh. 

“Okay, Mary J Blige,” she said shaking her head and rolling her eyes upward, staring at no place in particular.

“I got you,” Terry said booping Savannah’s nose.

“You got what?” she said with in an incredulous look on his face

“You,” he emphasized, “You can’t keep eyes on me.”

Savannah waved his hand from her face, the gold, medical bracelet glinting in the light. “Boy, bye.” She twisted at her waist to reach for her glasses on the nightstand. When she faced Terry again he was supporting himself up with his left hand, while his right one propped his head. Terry was staring at her as if he were enchanted. He’d always stare at her like that. And Savannah couldn’t believe that he still was, especially after how tonight went. He was making her feel all self-conscious and shit. Damn him and his fuck ass, color-changing eyes.

“What?” Terry said softly, cutting off her thoughts

“Fuck you and your fucking eyes”, Savannah playful shoved his shoulder.

“Why you say fuck me for?” Terry said aloud after letting out a laughter of shock, thick eyebrows raised and eyes widened.

“Because!” Savannah retorted, mirroring Terry’s expression and previous tone.

“Because what?” Terry said now in a softer tone, while squinting at her. He’d reached out for her hand again without looking. She accepted it and Terry interlocked his fingers with hers. It made Savannah smile, clearly showing because her eyes never left his.

This man was gonna be her undoing, she was sure of it. And he was sure she’d be his.

“So,” Savannah paused, while she focused on the feeling of the small circles Terry rubbed on the back of her clasped hand. “I didn’t ruin tonight?” she asked, avoiding Terry’s original question. Her left arm was bent at the elbow on her pillows, mirroring Terry while he was now lower than her. She felt Terry shift and then his hand on her knee. He slightly dipped his head, green-gray eyes asking for permission. Savannah nodded her head yes, and she felt Terry gently grab the back of her right knee, pulling it closer to him. Savannah loved the way the skin his rough textured palm felt against the soft smoothness of her legs. And Terry couldn’t get over how soft and delicate her skin was. Especially when he grazed her sides, feeling her rolls and ripples. It was supple and satin-like. He was grateful for the privilege he was allowed in getting to touch her. In allowing him to do anything with her. He’d do anything she’d ask in return.

“You did not,” Terry said. “I got to spend time with you. I got feel and caress you.” He demonstrated by caressing the back of her thigh. “I got to learn more about the sounds you make when you’re really feeling good ,” he said wiggling his eyebrows. Savannah scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Terry kissed his teeth, holding in his smirk. “See, there you go again.” he said in a light teasing tone. It was Savannah’s turn to kiss her teeth.

“Ok, but to be fair, today should NOT be counted!” She butted in holding a pointed finger upward

“Nigga, nobody is counting!” Terry laughed out. 

“What do you mean, nobody’s counting? YOU JUST TOLD ME YOU ARE!” she exclaimed in shock and amusement. She wasn’t upset or angry. She felt…vindicated. Vindicated at the fact this mf WAS doing this shit on purpose! Ooh, Terry. When you I catch you, Terry! When I catch you Terry!

Now, Terry didn’t wanna look Savannah in her eyes. He was being shy and evasive and shit. Looking around the room, now that she found him out. He could feel the heat rising to cheeks. Not him blushing over this. Savannah lightly tugged his chin upward towards her.

“Nah, pretty boy. Eyes up here. This is what you wanted right?” Savannah had said, genuinely teasing him. He knew she didn’t mean anything else behind those words, just getting him back for the sake of getting him back. But the way she said them, while grabbing his chin made him feel something. He’d have to return to that thought another time. The firm squeeze she added, and the pressure from the tips of her naturally long nails, to grab his attention again didn’t help.

Savannah was looking at him expectedly, one eyebrow arched with lips slightly parted.

“I mean…” Terry trailed off. He did love staring at her. Yeah, he got a thrill from how any look he gave her she had a reaction to. But it really was her eyes that captivated him. Her eyes were a deep dark brown, iris and pupil ringed in black. They were a cat-like almond shape. Sharp and alluring without meaning too. When she lined them with different colors, it only made them more striking. He could help but admire them and admire her, like one would the moon. Intrinsically and reverently.

“…you got some nice ass eyes. Be distracting a nigga and shit.” Terry chuckled trying not to be the chalant nigga he very much was and Savannah let out a low cackle.

“Heh, hey.” she took that moment to clap her hands slowly, alternating her hands so that palms touched fingertips and fingertips touched palms. Swiping away some of the doubt and insecurity in her head. It made her get a big one.

Whew! Savannah didn’t know she’d be able to relate to Victoria Monét when she sang it, but making niggas feel a way is a forté really. Well, shit. She wasn’t gonna feel guilty about using his face and his eyes as the last thing she’d sense in her grounding practice anymore. And, she was making him fold like he made her fold? Nah, the game was on. She was committed to winning a few of these stare-downs and she was gonna come out on top, one way or another.

“Anyways, back to what you were saying much earlier.” Savannah ushered him to continue after they’d gotten hella distracted and off course. She appreciated the levity Terry added to the moment for her sake. But Savannah really did need to know that she didn’t ruin tonight and that she shouldn’t feel bad when they woke up tomorrow. She wasn’t in love him yet, but she needed to know, that if it happened —when it happened, a voice in her head said—That he would validate and reassure her when this would come up again. Because it would. Come up again. 

“Like I was saying,” Terry extended the first syllable of the last word for exaggerated effect. It earned him a giggle. “We got to pause and ground together, when we both needed it.” Savannah gave him a slight eyebrow raise. 

Terry began to rub at the back of his neck when he admitted, “I read online that light yet firm pressure could be helpful in helping a partner stay present.” Savannah’s face softened in surprise and endearment. Oh shit! Not him doing self-directed research!

So that’s why he was doing those squeezes and circles!

He continued hesitantly, “Yeah. I was just looking up different articles, going to different websites and other people’s accounts and stuff talking about disability, sex and trauma, you know. I just wanted to make sure I could help you feel as comfortable as possible. And you know, I got kinda nervous too cuz i was like, ‘I don’t know if Im fucking up or doing too much’ so I was stopping when I needed to too.” Terry was rambling nervously and it was so cute and sweet. She couldn’t believe he did that for her. And also that what he found helped him too.

“But yeah, nothing was ruined. I got to be here with you. And see what it was like when you start floating away,” he ended in a singysong way, wiggling his fingers for emphasis looking nowhere in particular.

Terry made sure to snap his head back to Savannah’s. He reached up for her face, his thumb slowly moving up and near her chin and lips. At that, she took a hand and draped it behind Terry’s neck. She used her nails to make slow, stroking movements at the across the length of his neck. She wanted to make sure she heard what Terry was saying.

“But I want you know, that I’ll be right here with you on earth. No matter where you go, wherever you go.” Terry stated firmly. He had an earnest look in his eyes. His, tinged with grey among blue-green ocean waves, moving in sync with hers, being compelled by the draw of her deep brown moons shining with black rings. The tides of feeling and connection present between the two were unmistakable. Undeniable.

Savannah knew that he meant every word. 

And it was scary as hell. 

She hadn’t had someone feel so sure about her in this way, in a long time.

But she wanted to see it through anyways, whatever this would become with time. She hadn’t told him everything, just enough to be in the know. And he took that information and built on it. For them. For her.

Savannah slightly lowered her head towards Terry, hovering her lips right over his. Her chain dangling over his.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his lips. 

“Nothing is ever too much for you,” he whispered back.

And so the tides crashed, leading their lips to softly touch together. Melting with the hopes for the future and the celestial of their current now.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note Pt 2: Comments, questions and suggestions are so welcome (please be nice to me tho 🥺 👉🏿 👈🏿) I did try to revise this one and edit it for real for real. If there are any errors let me know.

If you're wondering how he got Savannah out that mask...you gotta keep reading. If you wanna be added to the taglist without getting all my other NSFW reblogs, please lemme know in the replies.

Also I hope that those of you who needed to or still need to take some breaks and do some grounding cuz reading may have been a lot, please do that. Slowly blink your eyes open and close. Stretch your fingers, wrists, arms, and neck. Hell, your whole body. Drink some water. Grab a snack. Put on a mood uplifting song. <3

Also if you somebody like me, who still be masking when they be outside, im writing this for you extra!

For anyone who need it, let this work be a manifestation for the dynamics you desire, that are aligned with you in all ways, with no doubts or questions. May the Divine deliver and you recognize them upon arrival. You got this, boo! 😉

Okay thank you for coming to my TED Talk 🥰 See y'all on the dash

[rageprufrock]

I had to write this down so it would stop being inside of my brain--devil judge stupidity

I have a clinical dx that proves I lack the emotional self regulation to stop myself from doing stupid things and I just really really want to write something funny okay!!!! No clue if this is going anywhere. I have approx 100 ideas right now and can't be held responsible for my actions.

Actually, the whole thing is Elijah's fault, because if she exercised any of the restraint she used on the Korean-speaking internet for her English language shitposting accounts, they wouldn't be in this mess at all.

That said, she'll argue to the death that if her shitty uncle is going to subject her to his sweaty, old man chest and walk around the house after one of his workouts dripping sweat with his workout pants half-hanging off of his ass, she's going to shame him like truth coming out of her Instagram.

Unfortunately, the general reaction to her caption ("god my uncle is so gross") turns out to be a tsunami of absolutely unhinged horny commentary from a community she'd previously believed to be upright, clear-minded young women with promising careers in STEM. There's a run on eggplant emojis. There are so many eyeballs. Prayer hands left and right. People are calling Yohan "daddy" in sixteen languages.

It's funny in an absolutely repulsive way, and here, even Elijah has to admit to culpability, because in retrospect, when someone had commented, "so can your auntie fight?" she absolutely should not have posted a picture of Gaon from his army service, sun bronzed with his arms out, and said, "lol yeah."

Yohan works approximately 18 hours a day with breaks for the gym, to psychologically torture her over dinner, and an hour where Elijah puts on her noise canceling headphones and assiduously does not listen to whatever the fuck is happening down the hall in his bedroom. But he's also the nosiest, most intrusive person on the face of the earth with a squadron of terminally online assistants so it's only a matter of time before he's going to find out he's now internet famous and that there's an AO3 tag for "hot uncle/soldier boy (not The Boys)" and destroys all of her electronic equipment.

Gaon, who hasn't logged into social media in like three years, could feasibly go to his grave not knowing--except that he works in the juvenile court system which means she's not totally surprised when he comes home on Tuesday with a weird look on his face and says:

"Elijah, I think we've been hacked," he says, because he's a genuinely nice person who must have committed some kind of heinous crime in a past life to attract Kangs left and right. "I think someone got into our phones, or our wifi. One of my clients showed me a post today that looks like someone stole a CCTV picture of Yohan, and then posted some old picture from when I was in the army."

Elijah is listening with an active grimace on her face, trying to decide what to say and how to say it, when the SmartHome speaker crackles to life and Yohan's voice echoes out of it, saying:

"Kang Elijah, did you out Gaon and I with your fake instagram."