#maybe he can do something else like this and shell try to leave because shes awkward about it

[syluslnd]

Hi! Sorry if this is a long request but I remember very early on Sylus saying that he gets easily bored when things aren't exciting and it's mentioned in 1 of his character notes. I was wondering if I can please request a HC were the reader and Sylus are in a relationship but the reader thinks they are just fwb because they remember Sylus saying he gets bored easily, meanwhile Sylus thinks they're in a committed relationship and gets confused when he over hears the reader (maybe talking to her friend?) Saying how she wishes she sometimes had a boyfriend so they could do all the "normal couple things" and he confronts her about it? Thank you!

Sylus claiming you as his

You sat on the edge of the bed, your phone pressed to your ear, your voice soft as you talked to your friend. Sylus was across the room, looking relaxed as he read something on his datapad, seemingly disinterested in your conversation. But that couldn't be further from the truth.

"I just wish I had a boyfriend" you said, a sigh escaping your lips. "Someone to do, you know, couple stuff with. Like dates, going out... all those normal things."

You didn't notice the way Sylus's fingers tightened around the edge of the datapad or the way his sharp gaze flicked toward you at that exact moment. But in the next heartbeat before you could react he was beside you ripping the phone from your grasp with a speed that left you breathless.

"What the hell did you just say sweetie?" His voice was low but there was an edge to it-one that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Sylus, what-" you began but he cut you off, pressing the phone to his chest as he glared down at you, eyes darkening.

"You wish you had a boyfriend?" He repeated your words with a scoff, his brow furrowed. "What do you think this is? Some kind of joke?"

You blinked up at him, heart stuttering. "I thought we weren't... I mean, I didn't think we were actually-"

"Not actually what kitten?" he interrupted, voice rising just slightly. His usual calm, teasing demeanor was gone, replaced by something hard, intense and almost... hurt. "You thought this was some casual thing? Some fling?"

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

In truth, you had no idea how to answer that.

You'd convinced yourself that Sylus would get bored, that this was all temporary and that treating it like anything more would only end in heartbreak.

His lips curled into a tight, humorless smile.

"Sweetie” he said, voice dripping with disbelief “I don't know what kind of 'fling' you think this is but I sure as hell didn't sign up for that."

The tension in the room was suffocating, the air thick with unspoken emotions. You bit your lip, trying to gather your thoughts. "You said... you get bored easily” you murmured, your voice barely audible. "I thought... maybe you'd get bored of me too."

For a moment, Sylus said nothing, just stared at you like he was trying to process what you'd just confessed. Then, without warning, a low, incredulous laugh bubbled up from his throat.

"Bored? Kitten, are you serious right now?"

Before you could respond, Sylus closed the distance between you, his hands finding your waist as he yanked you closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "You think I'd be spending all my time with you, putting up with all your little antics, if I wasn't serious?"

Your breath hitched as his fingers dug into your skin just enough to make you squirm.

He was mad, no doubt about it but there was something else underneath that anger-something possessive, something that sent heat coursing through your veins.

"You don't need a boyfriend" he murmured, his lips trailing down the side of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "You already have one."

Your heart stuttered at his words and you felt him smirk against your throat as he started to press slow, deliberate kisses there. "But if you really need proof.."

He bit down gently on your skin, pulling a gasp from your lips as he sucked hard enough to leave a mark—a claim. "I'll remind you."

Your pulse quickened, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he worked his way along your neck, leaving a trail of hickies in his wake. "S-Sylus..." you breathed but the word came out shaky, almost desperate.

"What?" he teased, lips brushing against your collarbone now. "Isn't this what couples do? A normal boyfriend would mark what's his, wouldn't he?"

He tugged at the collar of your blouse, undoing the buttons one by one, his hands moving with practiced ease. Your heart raced, anticipation building as your skin was exposed to the cool air. Sylus's fingers skimmed over the bare skin of your chest, making you shiver, his touch sending a wave of heat through your entire body.

"Sylus" you tried again, your voice coming out in a mix of breathlessness and embarrassment. "This—this isn't..."

"Not couple enough for you?" he finished for you, voice teasing now, the anger from earlier fading into something playful, dangerous. "Because I can keep going, kitten. I can show you just how committed I am."

He kissed you again, harder this time, his tongue tracing the marks he'd left behind and you whimpered softly, your body arching into him as his hands slipped under your blouse. He grinned against your skin, his fingers tracing patterns down your spine as he leaned into you.

"You don't need to look anywhere else” he whispered, voice dark and possessive.

"Because you're already mine. Understand?"

His lips met yours then a kiss that was rough and consuming, filled with all the emotions he hadn't spoken aloud and in that moment, with his body pressing you into the bed and his hands exploring every inch of your skin, you knew one thing for certain:

You'd never been more his than you were right now.

[shockercoco]

Rainbow vs. Leather

Benny Cross x reader

Warnings - some swearing, flirty! and nervous! Benny

Word count - 2397

a/n - request: Hi!! If interested can you please do a Benny Cross x reader who is an unofficial member of the gang?. . .Benny likes her and try’s to give her hints but she thinks that he is just being nice because she had bad luck with guys who only always saw her has a friend and so, he has to be blunt with her one day. And the rest is up to you. Thank you." - read the full request here. i think 2k words is just gonna be my average at this point lol, i hope you enjoy :)

“Do I have to?” You had asked your parents one night at dinner — they had basically turned it into an intervention.

Your parents weren’t a huge fan of you just lounging around the house all the time with nothing to do, although you had no problem with just kicking back and watching a little television. They thought you needed to get out and socialize and make some friends. 

You weren’t necessarily opposed to the idea, but making friends wasn’t an easy thing for you. You came off as shy at first, but once you got comfortable in your environment you became pretty talkative and outgoing. This was also a problem when having conversations with people because sometimes they thought you didn’t want to talk, or even worse, that you didn’t like them for some reason. 

You wanted to come out of your shell, so when your parents told you that they wanted you to get a job, you were hesitant but you agreed. 

At least they weren’t kicking you out of the house.

What they didn’t know is that you would get a job at the local bar where all the Vandals hung out, the town’s motorcycle club. It was easy for you since Johnny, a close family friend —  leader and owner of the club — practically owned the bar, so when you had asked him for a job, he was completely fine with it.

Your parents thought you would get a job at something like the grocery store or the book store down the street, but since they loved Johnny they were okay with you working at the bar. 

So now here you are, your third week as a bartender and you enjoyed it. For the most part, the guys were pretty respectful and you rarely had any problems — mainly because Johnny basically threatened them into treating you right before you even started. 

There was this instance a couple days ago with a drunk guy, though. He kept getting closer and closer to you, and when it became clear he wasn’t going to leave you alone, Johnny interrupted and kicked the guy out of the bar.

You told Johnny that you had it handled, but he had just dismissed you and said, “No lady should have to deal with that.”

It was pretty obvious that this wasn’t your usual crowd. You enjoyed wearing colorful clothes and jewelry, but you did try and tone it down a little so that you didn’t stick out too much. Thankfully, you had made a couple of friends so you didn’t feel too out of place.

“You should come out riding with us later,” Kathy, a new friend, tells you from the other side of the bar counter.

“On a motorcycle? Are you crazy?” You ask as you lean against the counter. A lot of the guys had already gotten their drinks, and they didn’t want to get too drunk for the ride later, so you didn’t have too much to do.

“What else would I be talking about?” she playfully rolls her eyes.

“I don’t know, maybe a car ride?”

“When was the last time you had fun?” She asks you as she taps the ashes off the end of her cigarette.

“Yesterday while watching some game show,” you joke, and Kathy just laughs.

“How are you two doing over here?” Benny walks up with a glass in his hand, taking a seat next to Kathy.

Benny was another one of your new friends, and you enjoyed whenever he was around. Mostly because you liked how he made your heart flutter just by looking at you or giving you that smirk of his. You hate to admit it, but you were a goner the first day you had met him.

He wasn’t your usual type, but who cares. The whole point of this job was to get you to become more open. You highly doubted that the feelings were reciprocated on his end, though.

But little did you know they were. Just like you, Benny had fallen for you as soon as he laid eyes on you. He had just entered the bar and joined a game of pool with some of the other Vandals.

As he was lining up his shot, he heard a laugh that he hadn’t heard before. All the laughs he was used to were from the other Vandals or the raspy laughs from the girls that hung around and smoked.

Your laugh was different — light and airy and sometimes started off as just a giggle and got interrupted with a snort. It was also loud enough to be heard over the regular chatter of the bar, making Benny miss his shot.

The guys had joked and asked if he was distracted, but he just brushed it off and tried to regain his focus.

When he looked up furrowed eyebrows to see who was causing the noise powerful enough to throw him off his game, he noticed you standing there behind the bar. You are laughing at something Johnny had said to you as you poured him a drink.

Benny ended up missing his next two shots, and he surprisingly wasn’t upset when he lost the game.

Benny needed to know who you were, and he made that his mission from then on. He tried to send you signals that he was interested in you, but for some reason you weren’t picking them up. He loved the way you giggled at something he said or how your soft hand accidentally brushed his as you handed him his drink. 

He was trying so hard to be patient, including now as he saw you talking with Kathy with a gentle smile.

“I’m trying to get her to join us later tonight for the night ride,” Kathy answers him.

“And?” Benny asks hopefully, his eyebrows raised as he looks at you with humor written across his face.

“Not happening,” you shake your head.

“Why not?” he continues.

“Because she doesn’t like fun,” Kathy butts in before you can answer.

“Hey, I do like to have fun. It’s just that my version of fun and yours is different,” you defend.

“Have you ever been on a motorcycle?” Benny asks you as he rubs his hand over his chin. When you shake your head in response, he asks, “Do you want to?”

“Not really a huge fan of putting my life on the line like that,” you tell him. Benny chuckles, Kathy joining in. 

“It’s not that dangerous, we don’t always drive fast. Tonight’s just a cruise. Come on,” Benny says.

His intense gaze is almost enough to make you say yes…but no. Being on the back of a motorcycle didn’t seem as safe as being inside a closed up car.

“I’m okay, plus my parents might kill me if I stay out too late,” you say.

“Doesn’t Johnny know your parents? I’m sure they wouldn’t be too mad,” says Kathy.

Benny’s face contorts into surprise at Kathy’s statement. He looks back at you for confirmation, and you give him a silent nod.

“What about me?” Johnny questions as he hears his name being mentioned. He gives you a smile as he hands you his glass to refill.

Good, hopefully he can help you get out of this.

“We’re trying to convince her to come out with us, but she’s too afraid,” Kathy explains. You let out a scoff.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Johnny agrees, taking a sip from his glass.

What?

Your eyes widen as your lips slightly parted in disbelief.

Johnny shakes his head in amusement at your expression. “I promise it’s not that bad, you’ll be safe with us. If you get in any trouble with your parents, I’ll talk to them myself.”

You look at the three pairs of eyes staring back at you, waiting for your answer — Kathy with her eyebrows raised, Benny with a daring look behind his eyes, and Johnny with a smirk.

“Fine,” you surrender, throwing your hands in the air as the group in front of you lets out a small cheer. 

As the night at the bar comes to an end, the bikers take that last sip from their glass and throw on their colors, before filing out the door and heading toward their bikes. Hoots and hollers fill the air as everyone begins to hype each other up. 

“You can ride with me,” you hear Benny tell you as he walks past you and toward his own motorcycle. He doesn’t look back at you as he starts up the bike and waits as everyone else does the same.

Get on a bike. With Benny.

You spot Kathy on a bike with Cal. When she sees you looking, she nods her head towards Benny and smiles. You inhale a deep breath to give yourself before heading towards Benny, who offers you his hand as you climb on behind him.

“Well I’ll be damned, is Rainbow finally coming?” Brucie laughs when he sees you. He gave you the nickname when he saw you on your first day dressed in pastel colors and joked about how bright your clothes were. The name has stuck with you ever since, unfortunately.

“Hell yeah,” Cockroach shouts, along with a few others.

You roll your eyes and try to hide the smile forming across your lips. Benny instructs you to wrap your arms around his torso, which you do with uncertainty. You’re not sure how high or low you should have your hands and how tight to hold onto him. 

This feels oddly intimate. 

He smells like cigarettes — which would normally be a huge turn off if it was someone else — along with sweat from the multiple rounds of pool he played throughout the night, and his natural musk. 

Benny must’ve noticed your nervousness because he grabs your hands and places them on his abdomen, allowing you to feel the muscles beneath his shirt. He gives your hands a small pat as if to keep them in place before following the rest of the Vandals as they pull out onto the street.

You’re not sure exactly what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. The way the wind whips around and through, taking your breath away in such an addicting way. The way the motorcycle vibrates your whole body, only intensifying your experience. You’re not sure how fast Benny’s going, but you couldn’t care less.

You hate to admit it, but the ride is over too quickly for your liking. As Benny separates from everyone else and pulls up in front of your house, you realize the smile currently on your face hasn’t left since the ride started.

Benny comes to a slow stop before cutting the engine and helping you off the bike and onto the sidewalk. Your body is still buzzing from the vibration of the bike, but you enjoy the feeling.

There’s a silence between the two of you as he watches you  for a moment, looking you up and down.

“What?” You laugh nervously as you shift under his gaze. You wrap your arms around your body, not just to shield yourself from the window, but from him.

Benny smiles and shakes his head. “Nothing. I take it you enjoyed the ride.”

“I did actually,” you nod.

“So you wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again sometime?” he asks.

“I guess not,” you say.

“With me,” he adds, more as a statement than a question.

You blink. “What?”

“You know what. I’m asking you to come riding with me,” he says casually.

You want to say something, but honestly you're at a loss for words.

“Come on, you know you want to,” he smirks.

“And why would I do that?” you question.

“Because I want you to,” he shrugs his shoulders as he looks out into the distance. Benny takes a breath and hesitates for a second before looking back at you. It’s now or never. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get your attention?”

“My attention?” you ask, but you think you know where he’s headed with this.

“Yes, your attention. I’ve been flirting with you pretty much everyday since you started working at the bar, and you don’t seem to notice. I mean, some of the other guys have picked up on the fact that I like you.”

“I thought you were just being nice,” you tell him, your forehead creasing.

“Nice?” Benny scoffs with a laugh. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that.” 

“I don’t know, I just-I thought you were being nice since I’m always hanging around Kathy!”

“Even Kathy has noticed!” he throws a hand up.

“Lower your voice!” you hush him. It’s after midnight, and you don’t want everyone on the street to start looking out of their windows.

You really don’t know what to say now, though. Like, what the hell have you been doing all this time?

Well, to be fair, people don’t usually flirt with you.

“So….”

“So….” Benny drags out. “Will you put me out of my misery and go on a date with me? It doesn’t have to be anything special, unless you want it to. We can just go for a ride or I could take you out to eat. Anything you want,” Benny looks at you with hope written all over his face. 

A grin slowly made its way across your face as you took in Benny. Is he nervous?

“I mean, I can’t really say no because we see each other all the time at the bar anyways,” you joke, causing Benny to let out a chuckle.

“Is that a yes then?” he asks.

“Yes,” you confirm. Benny nods, satisfied with your answer.

“I guess I should probably go — you’re cold, and I’m pretty sure your mother has been looking out the window this whole time,” Benny smirks.

Your mouth drops as you whip your head around just in time to see someone move away from the window on the second floor. There’s no doubt you’ll be flooded with a ton of questions later.

You turn back around when you hear Benny’s engine start back up.

“I’ll see you soon, Rainbow,” Benny shoots you a win, stealing the nickname Brucie had given you.  

“That’s not my name!” you shout after him, and he just gives you a quick glance back before continuing down the road.

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[starstruckmiraclekitty]

If you haven't already, could you do something where ghost first meets f!reader? Like super cute love story, how it began maybe also how it's going? (can include smut if you're willing love a good smut lol) I'm so down bad for the cuteness overload because I'm waiting for my own Prince Charming 😩

It was a rainy, miserable day in Manchester, and Simon was growing increasingly bored. He'd been home from deployment for a few weeks now, and the pile of books he had waiting for him at home had long been read, leaving Simon with nothing to do.

Deciding against his better judgement, Simon left the comfortable anonymity of his home, and walked to the local bookstore located two blocks from his small English flat.

It was a spot he always visited when he was home from deployment. The little old lady who owned it was always so nice to Simon, and would always set aside books she knew he'd like.

"Hey Barb." Simon greeted in his gruff British accent, smiling at the woman behind the counter as he walked in.

"There he is, I was wondering when you'd come back home, solider. Got a few books set aside for you, but we've updated our inventory, why don't you take a look around?" Barb smiled warmly at him, gesturing to the abundance of shells laid sporadically throughout the small store.

Simon nodded politely to her, a small smile dancing on his lips as he made his way to one of the shelves. The shelf he always started with, Science Fiction.

The minute his eyes landed on it, he knew he had to have it. He'd been looking for a first edition "Dune" for a long, long time, and here it was just before him. He was so tunnel visioned, so solely focused on the book, he hadn't noticed a small hand reaching for it at the same time he was.

His hand grazed the other persons, and he quickly pulled himself from his daze, looking over and finding you, and Simon could’ve sworn his heart stopped right then and there. You were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and the small giggle that emitted from your lips as he stared at you caused his cheeks to burn crimson.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't notice anyone else was here." Simon murmured, his voice coming out shaky. Damnit, what the hell was wrong with him?

"Don't worry about it. I didn't notice you were going for the same book.” You replied, your cheeks now as red as his.

There was a moment of awkward silence between the two of you, your eyes still lingering on one another’s, as you were both clearly flustered in the moment.

“Uh, go ahead and take the book, it’s yours.” Simon gestured to the shelf.

“No, no it’s really okay. I’ve read the damn thing at least a half dozen times, I don’t need another copy.” You insisted, taking a step away from the shelf.

Simon grabbed the book, and handed it to you with a smile, as he slowly found his confidence. “Please, take it.”

“If you insist..Have you read it before?” You asked, your head tilting slightly in curiosity. “I’ve not met a lot of people who’ve read it.”

“Not as much as you it seems, but I’ve read it a few times. It was my moms favorite book.” Simon said sheepishly, his mind wandering to thoughts of his mother. “It’s an amazing series, I just wish I had more time to read it.”

“Not enough free time?”

“Never enough free time.” Simon chuckled.

“If that’s not relatable, I don’t know what is. I’m a teacher, over at the university. It seems the only free time I get I’m grading papers, or I’m here with Barb looking at the new books she puts out. I’m Y/N, by the way. I’ve not seen you around before.”

“Simon. I don’t come here terribly often. I'm on leave at the moment and I’m due for a book restock. Teacher huh? What do you teach?” He replied, his eyes drifting back towards yours.

“English, funny enough. So you’re a soldier then?” You asked, your interest in the handsome man before you increasing.

“Something like that.” Simon said, his insides melting as he watched you watch him intensely. Simon wasn’t good at small talk, but he was trying his hardest for you. He didn’t want this conversation to end.

The two of you continued to talk for a few more minutes, the conversation ranging from the weather, to how long the both of you had been coming to this little book store, to your shared interest of science fiction.

“Well, I hate to break this up but I’ve got class in 20 minutes and my students will never let me hear the end of it if I’m late.” You said, not wanting the conversation to end. "It was really nice talking with you."

"Yeah, you too." Simon said, his confidence wavering slightly as he failed to come up with anything else to say. He desperately wanted to ask you for number, but didn't have the nerve to do so.

"I'll ask one more time, are you sure you don't mind?" You asked, holding up the book in your hand. " I feel bad it's the only copy here."

"Of course." Simon nodded, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Besides, it's probably better off in your hands. I'd honestly never get around to reading it, so it'd be more of a table piece."

You nodded, flashing him a warm smile. "Well it was lovely meeting you, Simon. I really hope to see you around here soon."

"I'd like that." Simon agreed, watching as you walked to the front, the smile on his face not faltering in the slightest.

Simon continued to stroll amongst the shelves, nothing quite catching his eye as his thoughts drifted back to you. He regretted not getting your number, and letting his nerves get the better of him. He could only hope that he'd see you in here again. Perhaps he'd make a few more trips here before his next deployment.

He made his way back up to the desk, anxious to see what books Barb had set aside for him. She always knew just the right books for him.

"The woman that was just here left you this." Barb said, passing something to Simon, a knowing smile touching her lips. "Seems you've made quite the impression on our little English teacher."

Simon looked down at the counter, and saw the book he thought you'd left with, and found a small note attached to the front. 'Enjoy the table piece. If you’re interested, I’d love to discuss the book over a tea- Y/N' Simon felt his heart flutter as he re-read your note over and over, his eyes falling to your phone number, neatly written at the bottom of the note.

"Sounds to me like you've got yourself a date, young man." Barb said, meeting Simons eyes with a smile.

"I believe I do." Simon replied, fumbling to put your number in his phone. And he couldn't fucking wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Planning on making this a multi parter? Or just leaving as is- I've not decided yet.

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

𝘋𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘰𝘮 𝘙𝘺𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘦

Tom Ryder x Fem!Reader

◢ Genre: Headcanons — Suitable For Adults Only

◢ Warnings: 18+ Only please! Mentions of sex, smut, and relationship with F!reader. Also includes mentions of jealousy, narcissism, and famous relationships.

◢ A/N: I am back, doing some warm-up writing. I still have everything in my drafts, and currently have some free time to try and get caught up. Keep an eye out for new content. Gif was made by me, please credit me if you use it. Likes are enjoyed. Reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

Dating a celebrity is never easy. Especially Tom, who right now is one of the most famous action stars in the world.

It'd be a lie to say that it hasn't gone to his head.

The man is narcissistic and not at the same time.

He's got an ego for days.

But he's not the type to gaslight you, at least not all the time.

He's capable of emotions, and yet he won't hesitate to try and cover up a murder with the help of his agent.

He's a man of morally gray standing. He's neither good nor evil, but will put himself first and foremost when his career is on the line.

When you and Tom started dating, it was unexpected.

No one expected it to happen. But he knew what he wanted and he went for it.

There was even a sticky note in his house about asking you out.

That note he didn't forget.

You aren't a celebrity like he is, so this forced you into the spotlight.

The tabloids ran with it, either making you look good or bad. It didn't matter to them.

What mattered was that Tom was dating someone new, and someone who wasn't a co-star.

It's strange being in the spotlight. Maybe a part of you hates it. Maybe a part of you likes it.

But you aren't dating Tom for his money or his fame, not like some people claim to.

You are probably the most down-to-earth person he's dated.

You don't ask him for things, or money. Which caused him to spoil you slightly.

He clings to you, keeping you close when he goes out.

He likes to show you off, even if people are criticizing him for who he's with.

His agent isn't a fan of you and tells him that he should be with someone else who is famous because it will help him.

There has been a time or two that she had almost convinced him to do it.

But when someone was said, it never turned out like he expected.

The arguments are heavy, mostly because that is when his ego comes to blows with you.

When you approach him to fix it, not wanting to fight, he tends to cave to the feelings you show him.

He starts to feel like you understand him past the fame and who he is as a person.

You've come to learn how to deal with his weird quirks, like the sticky notes.

More often than not, you are reminding him about things and trying to keep them cleaned up.

But some of the notes he leaves are utterly ridiculous and you tend to leave those up because they make you laugh.

Then you started to find notes about his feelings for you. Things he wanted to remember to say for later.

When he realized you saw them, all he could do was give you this boyishly charming smile.

Maybe the notes are a good thing.

It becomes a small form of communication between you two.

You have learned to deal with the parties, the drinking, and the drugs.

It may or may not be your scene. But somehow he manages to bring you out of your shell.

You have a good time with him. Letting loose. You always go home together.

The sex is amazing. Hot and heavy, a lot of heavy petting, moaning, and groaning.

He's vocal. Often telling you how he loves your body and how you feel wrapped around his cock.

"Fuck babe. You feel so good."

"You're going to make me cum babe if you keep doing that."

The man has his moments of being vanilla.

But when he gets kinky, he can get weird about it in a good way.

He's always willing to try something new.

But when you get submissive and worship him, he goes crazy.

The guy has a praise kink for days.

When you lean into his ear and start telling him about how you adore him, adore his cock, how good he feels, then he starts to go crazy mentally.

"Say it again babe. Louder."

"I'm gonna make you scream my name."

It makes it hard for him to keep his hands off you.

When he's gone, he thrives off the images and videos you send him.

Phone sex can be a regular when he can't get to you.

But there are times when he would take you wherever he's going.

The man won't hesitate to take you back to his trailer to have his way with you.

You'll make him late to set a time or two, but he doesn't care. He can get away with it for the most part.

He doesn't like other guys touching what is his. Ever.

He's going to make it known to his "friends" that you are off-limits.

He doesn't want them hitting on you.

This will bring out that small bit of insecurity that lingers in his mind.

He'll get jealous if he thinks the wrong thing, or see something that can be taken out of context.

If you two were to break up, Tom wouldn't handle it well.

You'd make him emotional, and the idea of seeing you with another man would frustrate him.

He'd try and get you back because of how you treated him and understood him.

This time, he'd be calling you while laying in the bathtub almost crying.

He might try and date someone else after, but chances are they aren't going to compare to you.

ATJ Taglist: @voxmortuus @earth-elemental18

Some of my tag list people aren't working anymore. If you want to be added for ATJ stuff let me know, and I can update my list.

[moonastroellie]

i looovvee the song daddy issues by the neighborhood (definitely does not say anything abt me) do you think you could make headcannons inspired by the song?

where reader has never been taken care of but ellie come along and like heals her ig? 😏

Hell yeah

warnings: 18+, these are going to get dark, mentions of childhood trauma, abusive parents, panic attacks, mentions of murder, trans! Ellie.

- Ellie met you in her shared dorm with you and Dina, after you had a panic attack crying on the ground after you accidentally broke Dina's favourite cup.

"hey, hey, are you okay?" Ellie kneels down next to you, and caresses your hair gently as you sob and rant on about how you broke Dina's favourite cup, "it's okay- I promise, she doesn't care"

"are you sure?" sobs continue to leave your mouth as Ellie sits next to you leaning against the wall "I promise"

- Ellie who asked you about what you were thinking about, while you were both studying together.

"what are you thinking about, hon?" she questions, you shrug, trying to brush it off, "if I told you what I was thinking about you'd think I was insane" Ellie laughs "you couldn't say a single thing to me that would make me think you're insane"

"I killed someone" you joke and a choked out "what" leaves Ellie's lips "I'm fucking joking!" you say as soon as you realise she didn't think you were joking.

"I think I like you" and just like that, you and Ellie began dating—not only this, but this is when all your past trauma started taking effect on your relationship.

- Ellie who comforted you whenever you thought you did something wrong. she knew there was something deeper that you weren't telling her but never pushed you to say anything if you weren't ready-

- Ellie who sat and listened to you whenever you needed to rant, and in fact. it was the first time you ever opened up to Ellie.

"this is how my story begins and I don't ever wanna tell the story again" you cry as tears drip down your face "it's okay, you can cry- I'm here for you" you immediately find comfort in Ellie's lap.

"and my dad? fuck he was crazy, he was never present- he cheated on mom so many fucking times and i- he used to yell at me for leaving a light on, that's fucking insane am I right?" ranting on and on, Ellie didn't once turn her attention to something else. it was on you and only you.

- Ellie who pushed you out of your comfort zone to make more friends and learn that not all people are bad, she knew you had social anxiety due to growing up with your parents who never taught you how to communicate properly.

"I'd do whatever I can do to protect you, you know that right?" Ellie says as she places her hand on your thigh, as she drives to Jesse's place. you smile and nod, leaning on her shoulder as she drives.

- Ellie who watched you have a panic attack over eating the last brownie, that was in fact her brownie. "I don't care, it's not the end of the world babe, it's just a brownie" she chuckles, this doesn't calm you down once—ellie realises this and hugs you tight "it's okay"

"my dad left money in mom's hands but I always felt bad for eating the last food because maybe Mom doesn't have enough money and i-" Ellie pats your head in a comforting way, suddenly you realise there wasn't any reason to react to that.

- Ellie who was so happy to see you finally come out of your shell and actually enjoy life the way people should—she pushed you to finally get therapy, which helped a lot. she noticed you going out a lot more, not crying over every small inconvenience.

- Ellie who cuddled you so much that you actually wanted to push her off you sometimes "Ellie, I'm boiling" she grumbles, and you chuckle at her half asleep body, pulling a hair strain behind her ear as she snuggles into you more.

- Ellie who teared up when you told her that she saved your life, "are you crying?"

"what? me, ew get away!" she sniffles and hugs you, telling you how much she loves you.

[ivycjl]

Epiphany - Part Four

Hello!! Fourth and final part! I've had so much fun writing this; thank you all for reading! My requests are open! I would love to get them if you're all interested. I'll shut up now:

The next few days are hell. Benny doesn't try to talk to you, and you don't try to talk to him. Every time you accidentally run into each other at home makes you cringe.

You can tell you've made him upset, but what are you supposed to do? Finally, Friday comes.

He speaks to you for the first time since Sunday, avoiding your gaze and asking if you want to go to the meeting.

Your reply is a quiet ‘yeah’. The ride over is awkward as hell, and when you get to the bar, you both jump off the bike and walk away as quickly as possible.

Corky and Zipco notice and bring it up to Benny when he walks over. “What was that?” Corky laughs.

“What?” Benny glares. Corky and Zipco share a look before Zip says, “You and the Mrs. It was like watching 13 year olds-”

“None of your god dammed business, that's what,” Benny snaps before entering the bar alone.

That was a mistake. As soon as he walks in, he's greeted with the sight of you laughing and smiling like nothing is wrong. Fuck that shit, because why don't you look at him like that anymore? Like you still love him. Like you want him. Maybe you found someone new. Benny buys a beer and sits in the corner alone, stewing in his thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, Benny sits in the same spot, drinking, watching. He can't take it anymore. You don't smile at him, kiss him, touch him, laugh with him for weeks, and as soon as you get to this fuckin’ meeting you act like your regular old self. This is the first time he's seen you act remotely happy to be alive in God knows how long, and when it's time to go home you'll just go right back into your shell. Benny’s done. He takes a final sip of his beer and storms out of the bar, slamming the door on his way out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Johnny’s been noticing something goin’ on between you two. It started out pretty mild, but now you're full blown ignoring Benny. Won't even look at him. Didn't notice when his gaze finally tore away from the back of your head and he stormed out the bar. So Johnny goes over to you. You're sittin’ with Betty, laughing with a Coke in your hand.

“Hey!” You greet him with a smile.

“Hey…did you just see Benny leave?” At the mention of Benny, your face falls, but as quick as it changed the first time, you switch your expression to apathetic. “No,” you shrug.

Johnny’s confused. You've never been so short with him before. “Ain't he your ride?” At the mention of this, you turn to Betty.

“Betty, you came in your car, right?”

His wife nods uneasily.

“Do you mind taking me home?”

Betty and Johnny exchange a glance. “Uh, sure hon.”

You turn back to Johnny and shrug. I don't care.

Hm.

Later that night as Johnny’s laying in bed with his wife, he decides to bring up the incident from today.

“Ay, Betty, you notice anything about Benny and Y/N?”

She scoffs. “Jeez, ‘have I noticed anything’, yeah, apparently I notice a lot more than you do.”

Johnny shakes his head. “Like what?”

“Oh God, I don't know. I haven't seen ‘em sit next to each other, let alone talk. And God forbid Benny make eye contact with Y/N or else her whole night is ruined,” Betty rolls her eyes.

Johnny mulls over this for a moment. “Why’d’a think that is?”

Betty sighs. “She's probably sick of all his shit. I don't know. They might’a fought and she just decided she didn't want to deal with him anymore. Who knows. Or cares. Just make it end.”

Johnny nods. “Get the light, will ya?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Benny, surprisingly, finds himself at home. After driving to another bar, getting shitfaced, and beating the hell out of some guy, he's just there, sitting on his living room couch.

For the first time in his life, aimlessly roaming the world on his bike didn't make him feel better. So he just sits on the couch and waits for you to come home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You silently open your front door and enter your house. It was about 12:30 before Betty decided to go home, which was the perfect time for you to return home and count on Benny to be out or in bed. It hurt to be so far away from your husband, but you would rather deal with this than constant fighting or his cruel dismissal. At least, this way, there was nothing to hurt you but yourself. You start to hang up your jacket when his voice stops you.

“Hey, baby.” Baby. Fuck you. You can't show me affection until you don't get any?

“Oh. Hi.”

You hear him suck in a breath. “How’d you get home? Betty?”

You hang up your jacket and nod. “Yeah.”

You brush past him to set your purse down on the counter, and when you turn around, he pulls your bodies together by your waist. You gasp. He hasn't been this close to you in 2 months. Benny moves one hand to your face, tilting it up to look at him.

You had almost forgotten how pretty he was, you realize as he smiles down at you. You sober up quick as soon as Benny tries to rest his forehead on your own. You sharply pull away to see his hurt face. Oh God. He must be plastered.

Benny starts shaking his head like a child. “No. No, no, no.” He takes heavy breaths. “What the fuck is going on with you? Why don't you want me anymore? Why?”

As soon as he says it, he wants to take it back. He can see your face contorting in pain, feel you breaking out of his hold and taking a step back. “Um,” your voice trembles. Benny instinctively steps closer to you, wanting to comfort, but you just walk backwards faster and faster until you hit the stairs. “Goodnight, Benny.”

“No.”

You swallow. “What?”

“No, I said no. We're not doin’ this again. You can't keep leavin’ me alone.”

You laugh. “Me, leave you alone?”

The alcohol was not letting you hold back. You feel a fight coming on, so you turn around to start walking up the stairs. But Benny grabs you again, pulling you back towards him by the wrist.

“And what is that supposed to mean? You've been avoiding me for 2 months.”

“Oh, that must really suck when you want to talk to me or spend time with me and I barely engage with you! I'm so sorry you have to beg me for attention!”

Your hand flies to your mouth. That was definitely something you were not supposed to say.

“Is that…is that why you've been doin’ all this? Giving me the silent treatment?”

You nervously nod your head, glaring at the floor. “Because you felt like I wasn't spending enough time with you?”

God, he makes you feel stupid. “No! Because you're treating me like some shitty roommate and not your wife that you're supposed to love. Because every day you spend so much time out of this house it makes me wonder if there's someone else you’d rather be married to instead!”

He pauses before responding in a low tone.

“I would never do that.”

“Do what?”

“Cheat.”

You take a deep breath. Good to know he's got some integrity left. “Hm.”

“I'm sorry.”

“That’s not even close to fixing this, Benny.”

He nods his head. “I know.”

You look back up at his eyes. “But I am.”

All you want to do is sink into his chest and burst into tears. Let him hold you. You only let the tears part happen.

“Why don't you want to be around me?” you sob. You sound so pathetic.

“I do. I do. I'm sorry,” Benny says as he pulls you into his chest. You don't try to fight him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, dropping his lips to your head. You both allow yourselves to take a deep breath. Calm.

“I do love you.”

“You mean it?” you sniff.

He nods as he presses a kiss to your head. “Yeah.”

“I'm sorry I didn't show it.”

You sigh. “I'm sorry for doing what I did. I'm just so tired of fighting all the time. I just thought, y’know, I would do anything to not fight with him again, and-I don't know. I'm stupid.”

He shook his head. “You're not stupid.”

This is exactly what you hate and love about Benny. He could be God awful and rude and difficult, but then in that exact moment you need him to be, he's perfect. Whether he knows it or not.

“You…didn't find nobody else either, did you?”

“What? Oh, no. God no.”

Benny breathes out, relieved. “I guess we're in tune with each other somehow,” you say.

He shakes his head. “I guess.”

There's a nice moment of silence before you say, “Why don't we go up to bed?”

“Together?”

You take his hand. “Together.”

You unfold yourself from his hold, leading him up the stairs. Once in the room, you slip into a pajama set and crawl into bed. Benny had already stripped off his shirt, and for a second he just stands there looking at you.

“You gonna come here?”

Benny says nothing; just gets under the covers and pulls you into him again. And for the first time in 2 months you think that maybe it's going to be okay.

Thank you for reading! Requests are open! Also sorry I missed some of your requests to tag 😭 Here are all the ones I've seen:

@imusicaddict

@wallacewillow0773638

@behindmygreyeyes

[dira333]

dira my darling!

can i request a fluffy plotbunny with bakugo? something with casual dominance, bc i would love to have someone boss me around. like,, he says sit and im sat? Im very bossy/pushy overall so a bf that's casually dominant and who i dont have to think around or help lead like i do everything else would be a dream come true xD

thank you for being so kind as to share your amazing pieces with us!!!!

*Pretending I have the time to write by eating my lunch in front of the computer* It's called Multi-Tasking

Also, I've had a hard time with this prompt because it feels like it's skirting along the line of suggestiveness, or is that just me being weird?

Going back in time...

"Stay," a voice whispers as you get up, warm lips pressed against the shell of your ear. "I'll get your drink."

"If only you'd listen to someone else like that," your best friend scoffs the moment you're seated again.

"Hah?" You ask, hackles rising.

"You know exactly what I'm referring to," Mina scoffs yet again, staring you down. Or at least, she's trying.

Your best friend of almost twenty years might just be as bossy as you are, but that doesn't mean you bow to her whims. Like she'd do it for you...

"What are we talking about?" Kirishima leans in, propping his head on his girlfriend's shoulder.

"How my best friend in the world does not listen to me." Mina points one pointy nail at you. "Especially considering I'm the one planning her surprise party."

"Please," you scoff, "like it could have been a surprise. You could never keep a secret from me. I'm just taking care of it."

"Bakugo!" Mina calls for the kitchen where your fiancé went seconds ago to get you another drink. "Help me here! Your fiancée's still trying to weasel her way into planning her own surprise party."

"Like hell, I'm helping you," Bakugo scoffs, looking down his nose at her. "And if my Baby doesn't trust your taste, I fully trust hers." He leans down to kiss you, pressing the glass into your hands.

"But I'm getting the flowers tomorrow."

"But-" You try to intervene but one look from him has you silent.

"See!" Mina asks Kirishima, pointing at the two of you. "One look and she shuts up. It never works when I do it."

"Yeah, but it's Bakugo," Kirishima offers like it's all the explanation needed.

-

"Do you ever listen to somebody?" Bakugo asks, raspy morning voice cutting through the Silence. You barely keep yourself from flinching, but the smirk on his lips tells you that he noticed. It seems he loves surprising you the most, mainly because you pride yourself in not getting surprised.

"I listen to a lot of people," you claim as you return to checking the Buffet table. You'd asked for Vegan Options and an egg-free dessert for the new secretary. Sweet-tooth, but highly allergic. It happens.

"You hear them," he says, "but you don't listen. Because I definitely heard Yukon tell you that he had the Buffet under control yet you're checking his work."

"And rightly so," you point out. "We're missing the egg-free dessert option."

"So?"

"So? I asked for it. He said he'd get it done. Do I have to do everything myself here? Apparently so."

"Sit down," he orders calmly, and you'd maybe wonder about his lack of temper had you not experienced him being like that around you for the last three years. Apparently, Bakugo turns into the chillest little prankster you could think of, but only around you. "I'll get it done."

You want to say something, but you decide against it. You've seen Bakugo deal with other stuff before, stuff that was definitely more important than getting an egg-free dessert for the new secretary. You know he can get this done.

"Fine," you huff, "But make it quick. I still need to go over the new recruits with you."

"Have I ever kept you waiting?" He asks as he turns away, leaving you flustered.

-

"Maybe we should appoint her for Class President," Sato offers quietly, but not quietly enough. "She's managed to talk Mina down in less than five seconds and it doesn't look like she takes shit from anyone."

"The title of Class President is-"

A loud boom interrupts whatever Iida has tried to say. When the smoke clears, there's only a small force field keeping Bakugo from strangling Kaminari, who looks a lot less frightened than anyone in his position should be.

"Calm down, will you?" You ask, looking down at Bakugo from where you're standing. Keeping up the force field is taking its toll, but you'd rather puke than admit to it. Not in front of Bakugo at least. "Aren't you better than that?"

Surprisingly, that seems to work. He calms down quickly, leaning back in his chair with a scoff. "True." He says, but his blood-red eyes don't leave you. It feels like a Challenge. One you're not sure you'll win.

[mytaiyakeylover]

so precious.

synopsis: you’re finally ready for your first kiss, but shoto can’t seem to get the hint.

pairing: shoto todoroki x gn!reader

warnings: none. just fluff, fluff, and even more fluff! well…maybe just one minor curse word.

word count: 1k

Heterochromia eyes blinked in confusion at the lonely piece of paper lying on the desk. The words 'Kiss Note' were written in cursive across the blank space. There wasn’t much else written on it, aside from one single sentence that said, ‘If you can guess how many times I’ve tried to kiss you this week, I’ll give you a big surprise<3’ —(Y/n).

Shoto furrowed his eyebrows as he read the words. An invisible question mark seemed to hang above his head. The boy scanned the nearly empty classroom, hoping to find your familiar figure. It was still early in the morning, and only a few members of the Bakusquad and some other students were present.

Your desk appeared empty, leaving him confused as you were usually one of the first to arrive at school. His gaze then returned to the note, the invisible question mark still very much present. He just couldn't seem to comprehend the message you had written. Have you been trying to kiss him? The aspiring hero struggled to recall any such moments.

A sudden gust of wind softly blew against the shell of his ear, accompanied by a quiet “Boo.” The dual-haired boy blinked at the familiar voice as a pair of arms sneaked around his waist. Your chin rested on his broad shoulder, and Shoto could see a small pout on your face.

“(Y/n)-chan,” the boy spoke, tilting his head slightly downward to get a better look at your expression. ”I'm sorry, but I can't remember any attempts you made to kiss me.” You huffed at that, arms unwrapping themselves from his waist as you crossed them over your chest. Cheeks puffed out frustratedly, making you look like an angry chipmunk.

“Does this mean that I won't be getting a surprise?” The expression on your boyfriend's face showcased nothing but utter cluelessness, making him resemble a confused puppy dog. You couldn't even bring yourself to be angry with him because of how adorable he looked in that exact moment. Though he had never been one for surprises, it still made him feel somewhat disappointed that he would not be receiving one from you now.

Shoto will admit, he did notice that you had been acting rather strange these past few days. For example, that brief moment when you had applied lip balm after commenting on how dry your lips were. He didn’t think much of that, but then you asked him if he wanted to try it out himself — which he did — and you ended up pouting for several hours straight, refusing to even look at him. Back then, he simply thought that you did not like to share your things with him and meant that he should go and buy one himself.

Truth be told, he still failed to understand how that could be related to your kissing attempts.

Then there was that time when you had introduced him to a strange game that was called the ‘Pocky Game’, where two people were supposed to eat one Pocky from each end, and the first person whose mouth comes off the Pocky or the player that gets to the middle first loses. He had found it pretty odd at the time as he didn’t understand what the main purpose of it was. Neither did you give any further explanation.

You didn't get to see who would win because Mina suddenly interrupted, dragging you away while claiming that you had something serious to discuss. Now, as he recalled that moment, he could faintly remember your shouts at the pink girl, whining about how she had just "ruined everything" while Ashido sounded like she was laughing at something extremely hilarious.

Lastly, he remembered yesterday evening when you had been watching a romantic movie together. The main leads were sharing a passionate kiss, and Shoto could still remember the way you sighed while saying, “I wish someone would kiss me like that.”

Was that what you were trying to do? Trying to get him to kiss you? Then why didn’t you just ask him? Shoto wouldn’t mind kissing you. That’s what couples do, right? He would be happy to fulfill your wishes.

“(Y/n)-chan, are you trying to say that you want me to kiss you?” His words were so blunt, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks heating up. You thought you heard some snickers and noticed more of your classmates entering the classroom. Mina sent you a cheeky grin and a thumbs up.

“Sho-chan,” you mumbled, hiding your now red face behind your hands. “You’re too precious, I swear...”

The dual-haired boy took a hold of your hands gently before removing them from your face. A faint pink hue dusting his cheekbones as he began to lean in. His lips were soft against yours. Warm, sweet and tender. It was relatively short, but for you, it felt like an eternity.

Hearts beating erratically within your rib cages, a stark contrast to the slow and sensual movements you were displaying. A part of you would like to continue, to never stop, and Shoto seemed to share your sentiment. He was such a good kisser, a part of you wondered if this really was his first time. He was just being so careful, like he was afraid to hurt you — were he to make any sudden movements. Treating you as if you were as fragile as glass.

However, the sweet and tender moment was short lived as a loud growl could be heard coming from behind, urging the both of you to finally break apart — albeit hesitantly. Then your eyes fell on a certain angry pomeranian who was thrashing around, while Sero, and Kirishima were struggling to hold back. A giggle escaped your lips as your (e/c) eyes made contact with his crimson. Right eye twitching he spoke in a low, irritated tone, “Get a room you damn extras.”

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Is that really JuanaFlippa?

Based on everything we know right now, the answer is "no"

What's more likely is that this is a Binary Monster pretending to be JuanaFlippa.

On a meta level, we know the admins of dead QSMP Eggs said they won't reprise their roles, but it's no fun to base lore analysis on meta alone, so here's a lore explanation for my reasoning:

First, and perhaps the most obvious explaination: JuanaFlippa never had cracks in her shell. She died long before the event where all the Eggs got kidnapped and were returned with cracked shells, yet this "JuanaFlippa" had cracks. What's interesting to note here is that during the Election Dinner when the fake Chayanne and Tallulah tried to trick Phil, he immediately pointed out that they didn't have cracks in their shell while the real Chayanne and Tallulah did. Perhaps the imposter was trying to overcompensate for their previous mistake by adding cracks to JuanaFlippa's shell not realizing that she never had them in the first place.

The reason why I specifically say this is a Binary Monster is because of the signs she left:

We've already seen the Binary Monster(s) try to replicate regular non-binary writing before when Etoiles encountered the fake Dapper and fake Tallulah (the book he showed Forever pictured below):

"My Dapper me na name" —> "My name is Dapper"

We know the Codes are constantly evolving and learning, so naturally their writing is getting better too (though we can clearly see 1s and 0s and other errors in "Flippa's" signs despite this).

But what's the Code's motivation in doing this?

In the past, we saw the Code(s) mimic Eggs because they wanted to attack and kill Presidential candidates— but that's a pretty recent development. Remember: before the elections, they were attacking the Eggs (though they also attacked Maximus and Cellbit at one point). The motivations of the Binary Monster(s) has always been unclear, and there's a lot of potential roads we could go down while theorizing, but in the interest of keeping this as relevant to the current discussion as possible, I'll focus on just one:

We have strong evidence to believe that the Binary Monster didn't want Islanders to stay on the island. It kept attacking the Eggs and leaving behind signs that said "Last Warning," strongly implying that it was trying to chase them away.

HOWEVER: shortly before the elections, QSMPGlobal tweeted an image of the Binary Monster above the Federation building.

[ Note: I thought I had this photo saved, but I didn't. I've been scrolling through their media tab for 5 minutes and Twitter crashed, so I'll have to add this photo later. It’s very late and I am so so tired. ]

This is the first time the Federation acknowledged the existence of the Binary Monster, and afterward, it said Islanders wouldn't need to worry about it attacking them. Why would the Federation suddenly acknowledge this physical embodiment of a mistake, an error, on their (supposedly) perfect Island?

The answer? The Federation took control of the Binary Monster. Why else would they suddenly deem it "not a threat"?

We could clearly see the Binary Monster deteriorating over time during the election arc. It looked shabbier and shabbier as time went on during the election arc. Something was clearly wrong with it (perhaps whatever the Federation was doing to control it hurt the Code in some way? Maybe the Federation experimented on it and made their own Binary Monsters?) But I digress-

The next time we see the Binary Monster after the Election ends is on Tazercraft's recent stream this week. Not only does it have a new upgrade (the strange OP sword Cellbit + Etoiles saw records of), it also ignores Richarlyson and opts to take a swing at Pac and Mike instead.

Now here's where things get really weird.

Earlier this week, we also saw the Binary Monster on Etoiles' stream. It didn't attack him, and instead leads him to a sharestone, which teleported him to a portal. He's given this image, then is kicked from the QSMP with the message: "The Nether Awaits."

So what does this have to do with JuanaFlippa?

...Well, that's the question, isn't it?

This is where things start getting murkier. I want to draw our attention to two specific things Flippa said before she left:

"It's not safe out there for me."

"Please keep this a secret."

The Binary Monster has already proven time and time again it's a force to be reckoned with. Why would it need to hide? Is it so that it can get closer to Charlie? (And if so, why? To mimic him? To get information?) I think a likelier answer is that the Binary Monster is trying to hide from the Federation itself.

Perhaps whatever the Federation did to shackle it— whether they experimented on it or copied it or whatever— left it damaged and weak. Or perhaps it isn't damaged at all; it just needs to lay low and needs someone else to do its dirty work for it (like sending Etoiles on a quest to find that strange shield in the Nether).

Unfortunately, a lot of this amounts to speculation because we simply don't have enough information yet. (It's also very very very late for me, so this analysis is purely driven by sleep-deprived madness and love for QSMP lore and JuanaFlippa).

Whatever's going on, we need to be very careful and think carefully about this being's motivations. Like Cellbit said: "Eyes always open."

Anyways, feel free to share your thoughts in the tags or comments or whatever, it's always fun hearing what people think of my analysis posts. You can find other analysis posts in my QSMP Info and QSMP talk tag.

[jelsah27]

imposter syndrome talked ab just some forewarning

In History Class

MC: *walks into class with a small smile on their face*

Deuce: Good morning, MC. You seem happy today.

Ace: Yeah what's got you all smiley?

MC: Well, Kalim and Jamil were at my dorm the other day. Kalim really wanted to know about foods from my world and Jamil tagged along for obvious reasons. At on point Kalim wanted to look at my room and he found my snap-out-of-it post-it notes on the wall.

Deuce: Snap-out-of-it post-it notes?

MC: Oh, yeah they help remind me that a lot of the problems I think I have aren't really as problematic as I think. Like "Every personality is a creation of experiences that make you you." or "My friends like me because I am me". You see a while ago I figured out that I have a bit of Imposter Syndrome.

Ace: A bit of what?

MC: Well, it's pretty much I feel like I'm not the person everyone thinks I am. I'm not the gifted child everyone remembers or the smart person everyone seems to think I am. That if I can't hurry up and live up to everyone's expectations that they'll figure out I'm not as great a person they think I am and be disappointed and angry that all I am is an empty shell of who they believed I was and leave. Some times it will also come in the form of believing that my friends only want to be around me out of pity or that if I don't like what they like or want to do the same things as them then they will leave, even if they've reassured me they love me. I think the worst thoughts I ever got from it was when I started to believe that my personality was fake and that I didn't know why I was so different than the kid everyone liked. I started to believe that I had faked my personality from different shows, books, or even people to even have one.

MC: Honestly I didn't even realize it was imposter syndrome till someone else pointed it out to me after telling them this. I genuinely had no clue I was so disgusted with myself till I was talking with them about it and they pointed out that none of what I was saying was true, that everybody knew who I was and loved me as I am. I think I cried when they told me that.

Deuce: Prefect... I had no idea...

MC: It's alright, I've been learning to get better at combating it. Anyway, Kalim asked me about it and I basically told him and Jamil what I just told you. He then asked me what I'm doing to overcome it. So I told him about the main things that have helped. Reminding myself constantly that I am not fake or hiding who I am from people I love and who love me. Whenever I feel negative thoughts try to take over, think about one positive thing that I have done or something someone had said they love about me for every dark thought. If it gets to bad though, go to someone I trust and ask them flat out about those thoughts, it helps a lot. And twice a week I make a post-it or journal about one or two small things. Maybe a compliment someone gave me, or a task I completed. So every day or so since they've-

Jamil: *walks into the room* Prefect, here. I must get to class before Kalim catches something on fire I mean gets into trouble. Have a good day.*hands MC a small note and leaves the classroom*

MC: *smiling contently* It say 'Thank you for helping Kalim study yesterday great sevens know he needed it and your smile is unique'

Deuce: *getting out paper* If it helps you, I'll gladly join in.

Little bit of a rant u can skip I hope you enjoyed the post <3 Y'all I'm sorry I didn't mean to trauma dump but I really like the idea. But the story is true and I did cry (and it was in a restaurant) when my sis told me I was wrong and she knew who I really and she loves me. That our friends won't leave because all humans have opinions and we are allowed to clash. And that my personality isn't fake, that everyone's personality is what they've created themselves and that people add and take away from themselves all the time and work on parts of themselves they don't like to become better. That my brain was just being dark when there was many lights around me, waiting to be recognized. If any of y'all read this its just one side of imposter syndrome, there are a few versions and many levels of severity. I genuinely think you are awesome and perfectly imperfect the way you are!

Anywho thanks for reading!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

ash i love vince so much he is my number 2 babygirl (antoni number 1 babygirl forever)

i would like to formally request some vince having a Bad Time, either past stuff with owen or present with recovery being a bitch

because there is nothing better than lovely characters having bad times that they absolutely do not deserve

CW: Alcoholism, withdrawal/cravings, alcoholic anger, Vince and Jameson both PTSD-ing all over the place, guilt

Oh, poor Vince. Takes place post-the Same Bed Arc, after Vince is living with Nat and Jameson.

-

Vince doesn't even look up when he hears Jameson stop in the doorway. He just pours a few shots worth of the gin into the glass, staring fixedly down at it. The liquid, clear as water but with the herbal scent washing over him like a welcome spring rain, spreads over the ice with those gentle cracks he knows better than his own heartbeat.

God, it looks good.

His hands don't shake, now. His heart doesn't race. He doesn't feel sweaty, or upset, or like he'll be sick.

He just feels like he's staring at the solution to all his problems, and all he has to do is swallow it down.

This should feel awful - he knows it should. It should taste awful, there should be something to remind him of the damage he does to himself every time he drinks again. He should hear his sponsor speaking in the back of his mind, he should hear the voices of the others at the meetings he goes to - one for alcoholism, one for survivors of sexual assault, twice a week there's movie star Vincent goddamn Shield among the normal people and admitting he's barely human, just a wreck that only survived Owen Grant because Nat decided she gave a fuck about him for reasons Vince still doesn't understand.

Here he stands, a hollow shell wearing a nice face who let someone else suffer in his place and was grateful for it for far too long.

Kauri hates him but it's nothing compared to how much he hates himself.

Vince lifts the glass, hesitating at the last second with the cool rim just touching his lower lip. Gin smells like blacking out and right now he could use the blessed darkness, hangover be damned.

He can worry about that when the headache kicks in tomorrow morning.

He realizes he's waiting for the sickening crawl of guilt at letting Nat down, at-... at letting himself down. Maybe that will come later, but right now... He feels goddamn good. Settled. Calm.

He and Jameson meet eyes just as he tosses the drink back, three large swallows of juniper-scented gin down his throat like water, leaving only the ice cubes behind.

The burn is perfect.

He pours himself another drink, feeling the warmth slowly spread through his chest to his shoulders, eyes briefly closing. God, it feels like goddamn heaven.

He looks up.

Jameson is still standing there in the doorway, looking oddly soft in a loose sweater that's far too big for him and a pair of old jeans that probably cost a dollar at a yard sale and even that was too much. Vince has jeans that distressed, somewhere.

His cost more than five hundred dollars.

He chokes on the next drink from trying not to laugh.

Jameson's eyes narrow. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Vince takes another sip, eyes half-closed, letting himself take it slow this time and really enjoy the taste.

He'd honestly been surprised the little liquor store down the block even carried this brand of gin. Not that he wouldn't have bought whatever he could get, when he stood there feeling like he would die if he had to go another day, but still. It's nice to have seen his favorite stuff, top shelf, pricier than it had any right to be. It's not even that good, but it's still his favorite. It still tastes, to him, like the nights he sleeps without nightmares, few and far between.

Gin tastes like those nights he gets to sleep at all.

The cashier had looked surprised as she wiped off the dust and rang it up for him. Then, with a shy smile, she'd asked him if anyone ever told him he looked a lot like Vincent Shield. He'd been kind of sad she didn't card him - it would have been nice to see the look on her face when she saw his name.

Instead, he paid in cash, laughed, and told her the standard I get that a lot, actually.

Jameson doesn't move closer, or leave. "It looks like you're fucking yourself up," He says, lingering in the doorway. "You can't just start drinking again. You know that, right?"

"Oh, I sure as hell can." Vince laughs, but it's a bitter sound. He licks the gin lingering on his lips, then gestures at the bottle. "Have some with me."

He's caught, for just a moment, when he sees Jameson wearing an expression Vince has never seen on him before. He looks... nervous. Afraid, almost, instead of angry.

"I-I don't want to," Jameson says, but there's a way he says it that makes Vince think he'd drink if he offers again. Maybe he wants to, or maybe he just doesn't want to make Vince mad.

If he commanded it, if he gave an order... Jameson would be as he's told, wouldn't he? Damn, that would be some power to have over someone.

This must be why Owen liked it so much.

No.

He won't think about Owen right now.

Vince gulps down liquid until he's breathless, almost panting. The warmth is like the familiar cradle of a softer reality settling in. He makes himself slow down this time, picking up an ice cube and sucking the juniper taste right off it before crunching it with his teeth.

"Vince." Jameson's voice gets harsher, and something seems to break his brief paralysis. He moves closer, grabbing the bottle and pulling it away when Vince puts a hand out to pour the third drink. "Fucking... look at me. What the fuck?"

Vince's hand just... hangs out there, reaching for a bottle that isn't where it was. He stares at the empty space, and feels that dark inside of him threaten to well up yet again. "What?"

Jameson swallows, his eyes moving to the glass, back to Vince's face. He steps backwards, and Vince watches the bottle go with him with a piercing need that could easily knock him off his feet if he weren't holding onto the back of a chair. Jameson clears his throat. "Aren't you... like, sober now?"

"Mmmn. Was. Got the like... three month chip thing and everything." He's gotten thoroughly wasted so many times in his life. Nothing relaxes him better than enough alcohol to force his body to stop living in constant, unending fear of who might hurt him next. "Right now, I am tipsy instead. In about an hour, I'm going to be absolutely fucked up. Give me back my gin."

Jameson's hand moves - then he jerks it back, taking a few steps backwards until he's back in the doorway. His eyes are on Vince's face, watching him with a total focus that Vince recognizes from the others he's worked with over the years - Jameson's just a trained pet, in this moment, watching to see if the master will be angry.

It makes him laugh again, more bitterly this time. Is he the master? Has he ever been his own master, let alone anyone else's?

"I... I can't do that," Jameson says, and Vince hears that he doesn't say no. When Vince moves towards him, he backs up a little more, and Vince comes to a stop just a foot or so away.

"Am... am I scaring you?" He asks, suddenly.

It wasn't what he meant to say, he meant to demand his drink again. Instead, this question that... that just sort of falls out of him like a waterfall.

Jameson's jaw sets and his eyes narrow. "You're not doing shit to me," He snaps, but Vince knows he's really saying yes.

Is this why people buy pets? So they can see something pretend not to be scared, and know they're the monster not just under the bed, but in it?

"Oh," He whispers. "What is it? Why are you scared? I'm just a drunk asshole, why are you scared of me?"

Jameson bristles, but then he offers - as if it's pulled out of him against his will - the softest explanation. "Brute and Robert got drunk all the time. I know what happens when-... when people get this kind of drunk."

There's a look in his eyes Vince has seen before in Kauri's. Not fear of him, not directly, but fear of someone like him, maybe. Fear of having demands made that can't be denied.

Is this how Owen felt, every time Kauri had to playact the loving boyfriend with bruises on his wrists and terror making his heart race? Is this how it feels to have power over somebody else when you can't even control yourself?

It's... it's good, almost.

It feels better than he thought it would.

"Back up, Shield," Jameson hisses, like a cat spitting and arching its back, ready to attack with claws and sharp teeth not because it's confident in victory but because it's so small it has to fight to have even the slightest chance to survive.

Vince looks him over, reading with an actor's expertise how he's projecting a confident swagger he never feels, how the irritation layers itself so carefully over a vulnerability that he sees as weakness. Vince has lived that way, too, since he was twenty-one, since his best friend turned out to be a rapist who wanted Vince to himself, since he started drinking to forget every single night and putting on the perfect face during his days.

They both survived, didn't they?

Jameson just did it by fighting his way out, and Vince by pretending to be someone he wasn't until nobody knew who he actually was, and that's a way of surviving, too. Wear another face, and make sure no one sees the fear in your real one, so they can't refuse to help you... because you've never asked.

"No." At least one of them can say it. Although that makes Vince's heart twist with ugly guilt, the petty cruelty of the thought. "Give me my gin," Vince says, pitching his voice low, and holds out his hand. "Now, Jameson. Give it to me."

"I can't." The strength is gone from Jameson's voice, and he looks at Vince with those dark eyes searching his own, trying to make himself understood. "If you drink, your-... your body's not used to it anymore, if you drink the same amount you'll fucking kill your stupid liver."

"What do you care about my liver?" Vince's voice drops low, almost a whisper. "What do you care about me, about my goddamn joke of a life, huh? What the fuck do you care? Why should anyone care?"

There's a flicker of something in Jameson's eyes - recognition, maybe. Something that lights up, just for a second, before the other man shoves Vince to the side with sudden violent strength and stalks to the sink, turning the bottle over and pouring that expensive artisan gin right down the drain.

"No!" Vince's voice is a ragged shout as he lunges after him, but it's too little too late.

Jameson's foot kicks out and slams into Vince's calf, sending him stumbling, clawing desperately as the gin is gone, glug glug glug, down into the pipes, disappearing towards the ocean.

Rage and terror fight in Vince's mind in a sudden white noise and he gets to his feet, grabbing Jameson by the arms and squeezing as hard as he can, shoving him back across the room. He hears Jameson hit one of the chairs, the clatter of wood and Jameson's grunt of pain as both hit the ground hard. The bottle is in the sink, and even when Vince scrambles to pick it back up, there's less than an inch of gin left.

He sucks it down, and only once he's gotten that final drop does he suddenly go still.

Oh.

There's the guilt and the horror and feeling sick at himself, just... twenty minutes too late. He sets the empty bottle carefully down, and then turns slowly around to look at Jameson.

Jameson sits on the kitchen floor, staring up at him with wide eyes. His face is pale, making the scar that twists the corner of his mouth stand out even more. His hair is nearly grown back in now, the bald patches hidden by the rest.

Vince exhales in a rush. "Oh, hell. Jameson-" He holds out a hand.

Jameson flinches.

Vince pulls his hand back, backing up until his back hits the edge of the sink. "Right. Okay. I'm-... I'm sorry Jameson-"

"Yeah." Jameson's voice is gruff, all the vulnerability and fear wiped away as soon as he realizes it's showing. He gets to his feet, shoulders protectively hunched, arms crossed in front of himself defensively. "Whatever. Sure you are. Drink yourself to death, shitbag, if that's what you want."

"I'm so sorry."

Jameson's jaw works. "... Everybody's always sorry. Then I get fucking hit again." Then he turns and walks - limps, really, his knees threatening to give out with every step - away. Vince stands there, frozen, listening as he makes his slow, painful way up the stairs.

Vince stares at the place he was for a while - he isn't sure how long. The gin is sinking its velvet claws into his mind, and he's drunker than he should be after only two drinks.

But then, it's been months.

Months, he made it without taking even a sip.

He swallows, again and again, and then pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, finds a contact, and presses the button to make the call.

The phone rings until he's certain it'll go to voicemail, before a voice he knows as well as his own is in his ear.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I-I need to talk to you," He stammers, his heart cold. "Please. Please. I-I've been drinking. I need... I need help."

There's a pause.

"From... me?"

"Yeah... yeah. You'll-... I need somebody who won't be nice to me-"

"Oh, well, if there's anything I love it's the chance to be mean to you, let me drop my entire life to come listen to you whine about yours."

"Please."

An exhale. "Whatever. Yeah, okay. I'll be over there in like... half an hour? An hour, maybe. Drink some water and I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't leave the house."

"Thanks... thank you, Kauri."

Kauri hangs up.

Vince pours himself a glass of water over the leftover gin-soaked ice, sipping it, barely flavored with a hint of the liquor he wants so badly. He rights the chair he'd accidentally shoved Jameson into, and listens to the creaking floorboards and muffled cursing above him as Jameson makes his halting painful way from stairway to his room, a couple thumps when he clearly falls and had to force himself back upright, until the pacing abruptly stops when he must have collapsed into his bed.

He hears the gentle patting of Trash Cat's paws as she leaves her place on the living room couch and follows him, too, her soft meowing until Jameson opens his door to let her come in after him. Then silence again.

Vince sits back down at the table, leaning over with his head in his hand, staring as the ice slowly melts, cooling the water around it.

He should have called his sponsor instead.

Whatever Kauri is about to say can only make this worse.

But he deserves it, anyway.

Vince doesn't move a muscle until he hears the sound of Jake's truck pulling into the driveway, crunching briefly over gravel before it's on the pavement again, when he raises his head.

Kauri walks in without knocking, stops in the doorway to the kitchen, and looks at him like his younger self ashamed of what he's grown into. Vince knows Jake must have driven him, but he's nowhere to be seen - maybe just staying outside, for now. He's clearly dressed for bed in a matching navy blue silk button-up and pajama pants, barefoot even.

"Hey," Vince says, weakly. The alcohol feels like poison now, not the soothing warmth it had been before. "I... I fucked up, Kauri."

"Yeah, I can tell just by looking at you, you're a goddamn mess." Kauri looks at Vince head-on, even though it still hurts him to do it, and Vince can see the flinch he suppresses as the headache kicks in. His blue eyes are identical to Vince's in nearly every way, except that Kauri's gaze has always been stronger. "What the hell did you do?"

"I got... I drank."

"Yep. I can see the gin bottle. Did you drink all of it?" Kauri's voice is flat and businesslike. It's like having his own younger self dressing him down, and somehow that feels... really good. Better than he thought it would.

"... No. Just a couple drinks. Jameson poured the rest out."

"Good for him." Kauri flickers a smile. "Where is he?"

"I-... I scared him."

"... you scared him?"

"Yeah. I was-... I wasn't-... I didn't mean to, but-"

"Shut up. All right. Tell me what you did. I'll fix it. This time, taking your place so I suffer for years while you run off and become obscenely wealthy is off the table, got it?"

Vince looks at him in horror only to see a surprising warmth in Kauri's smile. Not... not affection, but something like it. A wry compassion, maybe. Something else he doesn't deserve. "I don't know. I don't know if I can fix this, Kauri. I don't know."

"Well... I happen to the resident expert in trying to avoid dealing with your problems while making them all worse, so talk to me. Tell me what you did, start to finish. We'll figure out what comes next."

Vince lowers his head into his arms.

"Thank you," He says, muffled.

"Not enough thanks in the world, dumbass. Lucky for you I'm an amazing person who just happens to have spent most of my twenties making stupid drunk mistakes. So stop stalling and start talking."

-

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @whumpyourdamnpears @cubeswhump  @whump-tr0pes @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @autophagay

[jester089]

What if TADC meet a teenager male reader like kind of cold, doesn't like to talk and mostly just ignoring them but a good kid like if he did something he will apologize or help them with something ? For an example, Gangle broke her mask and reader fixed it for her.

Not so bad

I'm gonna warn you now I got kinda carried away with this one. So it's longer then usual.

Caine

Caine, of course, doesn't understand you. In his mind you're just another Zooble, ie a human he understands even less then usual.

He tries based on what he knows to have fun things for you to do. But he's never dealt with a teen before. And you act so different from the others.

He'll try for around a month to help and as he said "get you out of your shell". After that he gives up and assumes you'll be fine on your own.

You may be younger but your still human. In his experience humans can take care of themselves. So you'll be fine, he thinks.

Gangle

Gangle would feel bad. You're so young and you have to deal with this place. Because of that she'll try to talk and make you comfortable despite being very socially anxious.

When she tries her best to talk and you just look at her coldly then walk off hurt her heart. She's trying her best!

After another 10 tries only to get the same reaction from you she feels really bad. She just wanted to help. She'll be very mopey for a while after that.

~~~~~

Gangle was sitting in her room staring at the floor. She had just tried and failed to talk to you again. She even asked for advice from Ragatha!

She just wants to make you feel more comfortable here! She's the youngest (in age) here that isn't a complete jerk so she thought you would like her :(

She starts crying into her hands. After crying for a bit she feels someone else sit on the bed it dipping under their weight.

She wipes off her eyes and looks at them... It's you...

"Oh sniff h-h-hi? D-do you need something?" she says while desperately trying to calm herself down

"Are you ok?" Your voice is still quick and monotone. But their's a hint of worry, maybe even carring.

"Yeah I'm... sniff I'm ok..." She says looking away. She wants you to like her! Not to feel bad for her like everyone else.

"You're lying to me. But I wont force you to talk about it... I've been meaning to say... Thank you. For trying to make me feel better about being here.

I know you're trying your best. I'm just not, very good with communication. I'm sorry you have to deal with that." You say with the smallest smile and slight crinkle at the corners of your eyes.

Gangle slowly turn to you a giant shocked expression on her face. She stares dead into your eyes for a few seconds before breaking down crying again.

She basically falls on you full on wailing and mumbling about how she's so glad she's helped even if just a little. You carefully wrap your arms around her and gently pat her back.

Ironic. She tried so hard to comfort you and make you more comfortable. Yet she still ended up getting comforted.

Zooble

Zooble gets you more then the others. They're the closest in age besides Jax, but he's got something wrong in his head.

When they see you barely roll your eyes in a conversation. Or not really react when someone is annoying you, then you walk off leaving them confused of what they did.

After enough time and guilt seeing you always act like that they finally decides to try to talk to you.

~~~~~

Zooble is in the hallway that leads to everyone's rooms. She knocks on your door only to receive no response. She tries to knock again but the door opens beneath her gently pressure.

They push it open and sees you lying on your bed staring at the ceiling with dried tear marks on your cheeks. They walk in closing the door behind her.

"Hey kid. Rough day? I get it. This place is so loud, colorful, and bright. And everyone here is annoying. No one takes the f̷̥̫̼̈́̍̅̈́̀̓̏u̷̝̟͗ć̶͙̹͕̹͌́͒͛̈k̷̢̙͎͙̀͊̓͝͝ḭ̷͎̘̼̪̖͔̋̀͌̀ǹ̵̢̦̞̟̖͈̹͒͂̅͋̈̆͘͝g̶̡̬̹̯̊̿ hint and leaves you alone." They say while sitting on the ground and against your bedside.

They hear you let out a choked and wavy breath before you speak. Your voice is quiet and crackly. "I just... I... I-I miss my mom... A-and my old house..." You say barely making it through the sentence.

They let out a breath too. "Yeah. I get it. I miss my mom too. Sorry you have to deal with all these mentally ill adults all the time. Especially at your age" They say with a sympathetic voice unusually from Zooble.

They stand up and pat the bed next to you "Let's get you some food. And just between me and you I got some digital weed back in my room if you really need it. Don't ask how I got it. And don't tell Caine."

You tiredly smile up at them then slowly get up. Some food does actually sound pretty good.

(You can't convince me Zooble isn't a pothead. I don't care what people say that is fact to me.)

Kinger

Kinger of course doesn't understand. Yet he, of course does better then everyone else. He talks to you so indifferently. Not like your younger, not like your an outcast or going to break like everyone else.

He just talks. That plus how he basically turns into a dad around you makes you ok with him. You two have had a surprising amount of just calm nice moments together.

~~~~~

Kinger was in one of the circus's many kitchens wanting to get his insects more to eat. He starts checking through the cupboards and fridge.

After searching everything he takes a step back and tries to think of where he might find grubs or bug food. While thinking he feels someone standing on his right.

He looks and sees you standing there looking at him.

"Hey can I... Can we... Can we hang out? My uhh... My brain wont shut up, and I don't want to be alone." You say clearly uncomfortable.

"Of course you can! I was looking for food for my bugs but if you want to do something I would love to join you! I was planning on rebuilding my impenetrable fortress today. Help would be appreciated."

You get a small smile at that. That means you can build the fortress with him, AND you will get to relax in it afterwards.

Ragatha

Ragatha goes out of her way much more to talk to you. You're body and mind got digitally frozen at the worst part the could. She knows this and tries to help keep your mind off of it.

Between that and her being kind of protective because you're younger she ends up taking a protective and tired older sister role.

She's often around you talking to keep your mind off things and to beat up Jax if he tries something.

~~~~~

You hear a knock at your door followed by the sound of your lock turning. You groan and roll over in your bed before getting up. Once up Ragatha walks into your room.

"Hi Y/N! How are you today? You doing ok? You kind of worried me when you left like that yesterday." She says while looking at you.

"I'm ok I just... Can I have one day alone? Please?!" You say bordering on begging her.

"Nope! Everyone always abstracts while alone. And I can not handle coming in here and finding you abstracted. So you're going to join me on todays adventure" She says very matter of factly.

You groan again and flop back on your bed. You know trying to argue wont end well. You don't have a choice in this. So you take however long you can get to lay and be comfy before you're forced out of your room.

Jax

Fuck you. I want fluffy Jax with a younger reader. And I hc that he's good with kids. My blog, I do what I want!

He would, of course, try and mess with you. He tries many times you never reacting much. Once time he goes to far though.

And you react different then he thought. He expected you to just shrug it off again. But this time you broke down cry and holding your head clearly really really mad, and sad.

He watched you sprint off and felt, bad. You're just a kid, you don't even know how to handle your emotions.

He despite not wanting to follows you wanting to apologize.

~~~~~

Jax walked up to your room, the door left ajar. He knocks before going in "Hey. Kid. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I was just playin around. You ok?"

He pushes the door open and sees you face buried into a pillow. He hears a muffled scream from you and feels worse.

Despite wanting to help he knows if you see him in your room you'll think he's going to make fun of you. So he takes a final apologetic glance at you before leaving.

Pomni

You're a third of her age and you're still taller then her

Pomni feels bad for you don't get me wrong. But she's got her own problems. Most you'll get from her is a quiet sorry before she goes back to hype focusing on whatever is worrying her that day.

Every now and again you do startle her though. Everyone else in the circus is so loud, you aren't. Sometimes she'll be mumbling out loud and not realize.

Then you give your input on something she thought she was saying in her head when she didn't even know you were there.

~~~~~

Pomni was sitting in a side room people don't usually go to. It's like a endless waiting room? She uses it when she wants to be alone.

She was mumbling again. "Their just. Their has to be an exit. It wouldn't make sense for their not to be one. This place is like a game. and games always have exit buttons. Maybe I could find that?"

"Honestly. That's not a bad idea. That could also close the game though, then we all die." You say casually as Pomni jumps not knowing you were there.

You apologize for scaring her then she shakily asks how long you've been here. You say you were here before she did she just didn't notice. To in her own head.

(I'm so fucking tired after writing that. I'm going to sleep. Night yall)

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 2 - Spring: Three Meetings and a Proposal

Masterpost Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Somehow, you keep running into Neuvillette. When something unexpected happens, he offers you an unexpected proposal. Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine’s regency england (sort of) now? Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please go over there if you'd like to read it faster

Have a picture of neuvillette standing next to the skull of Oroboshi

Previous | Next

A month had passed since that unexpected encounter. You hadn’t told anyone about it, because it felt unreal even to you. Maybe you really had drank too much champagne.

In any case, the events of the ball were quickly forgotten amidst the immense preparations you had to do to obtain your governess license. It was a long, grueling process that involved leaving your hometown and moving all the way to the city, but it was about to bear fruit at last. After one last history exam, you would finally obtain your license and be able to advertise your services in the newspapers and bulletin boards.

And then, you would finally be blissfully freed from all those marriage-hunting obligations. No more balls, no more disappointments...

It was those thoughts that kept you going as you stared at the tiny words in your history textbook while being surrounded by people who seemed determined to scream their lungs out today.

“Get him, get him!” your sweet, adorable sister shouted next to you.

“Send him to jail!” her new beau also shouted from next to her. I’m pretty sure one can’t be sent to jail for hoarding ashtrays, you thought, but said nothing. He probably couldn’t even hear you, anyways.

Today, you were forced to chaperone your sister and the viscount’s son on their “romantic engagement.” Said “romantic engagement” happened to be attending a trial at the Opera Epiclese. Apparently, this was a popular date spot for young couples. It was things like these that made you feel dreadfully old and out of touch sometimes.

The seats were packed for today’s trial, for good reason. This trial was just one part of a lengthy divorce proceeding between a celebrity couple, in which they were trying to figure out how to divide their many, many assets. It was akin to a serial and even had its own dedicated column in the newspapers.

You glanced over at your sister and the young lord. They were whispering together and giggling. Even though the viscount’s son seemed a bit, for the lack of a better word, dopey, from your short interactions with him you could tell that he was a good-hearted and generous young man. Plus, there was a certain charm in watching him and your sister getting closer, the same feeling one would get from observing two cute puppies playing together. Perhaps your mother would live to see one of her daughters get married after all.

You looked back down at your book. You were on the chapter about Remuria, one of your favorite subjects. You loved reading about that long-deceased God King and his drowned empire of music. You knew that there were extensive ruins from that period near the town of Petrichor, but it was much too far and dangerous (without shelling out the exorbitant amounts of money for protection) to go there from the Court of Fontaine, so you could only ever dream of visiting there.

The cacophony faded into the background as you became engrossed in the topic.

It felt like no time had passed before you felt your sister shake your arm. “Sister, Sister! The trial’s over! Let’s go.”

You looked up to see people walking past you towards the exit. Judging from their chatter, the wife seemed to have won. What she was going to do with a vault of ashtrays, you had no idea.

You snapped your book closed and followed everyone else out. “I don’t know how you can read that boring book when there’s such an exciting show going on,” the viscount’s son commented, eyeing the thick textbook.

“Oh, that’s one of Sister’s special powers! The ability to read anywhere, no matter how loud or unsuitable the place is. I don’t know how she does it,” your sister chimed in.

“You can learn it too, you know, if you apply yourself to it,” you informed her.

“Ugh, you’re already talking like a governess,” your sister pouted.

“A governess? You want to be that?” the viscount’s son said, sounding incredulous. Seriously, why does everyone sound so shocked when they hear about it? “I had a governess once. She was always alone and wasn’t even allowed to eat with the family. Seems like a rather miserable job if you asked me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told her, but she won’t change her mind! She kept talking about how it’s ‘her role in life’ and her ‘fate.’”

You tuned the two out. You had heard variations of this conversation too many times over the years.

Once the three of you reached the main hall, the darling couple decided to go get some refreshments while waiting for the rain to subside. You decided to sit on one of the comfy stuffed couches under the stairs and resume your studying.

The words on the pages flowed into your brain. Remus...Sybilla...harmosts... what would it be like to live in that era? Or at least, to walk the places where these words were once part of everyday life? To touch the artifacts—the once-cherished, once-used items—of the people from back then?

You shook your head. Sometimes, your mind would drift to things that weren’t anywhere on the horizon of your life, just like how you would sometimes indulge yourself by reading romance novels and light novels from Inazuma. No, you needed to hone your mind and focus on your reality. You were in no position to move off your pre-determined path. You needed to think about how you were going to teach these concepts to children—

“Good day to you, Miss [Name].”

You nearly jumped at that voice. A very familiar voice. Knowing who you were going to see, you stood up with your head bowed.

“Good day to you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

You lifted your head. The man himself was standing in front of you. You had only ever seen his face in the papers and only met him once (in the dark, no less), but you thought he seemed a bit fatigued. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were sure you would feel the same if you had to preside over such a ridiculous series of trials.

“I do apologize for disturbing you,” Neuvillette immediately said upon seeing your face. Maybe your poker face wasn’t as good as you thought.

“It’s alright, Monsieur. I don’t mind.” You tried your best to sound like you meant it.

“May I sit down?” Neuvillette said after a pause. You nodded, and he proceeded to sit next to you. You moved all the way to the other end of the couch. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you two, considering how this couch was somewhat hidden away from sight, but you couldn’t take any chances. A governess’s job prospects hinged on having a spotless reputation, after all.

“Are you here with someone?” Neuvillette asked.

“Yes, Monsieur. I’m chaperoning my sister, who has been invited on a date here.”

Speaking of your sister, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see how the two lovebirds were faring. They were currently in the process of choosing from a large menu, giggling and nudging each other as they did so. They probably weren’t going to be finished any time soon.

“Date...” Neuvillette mused. “Yes, I’ve heard that it has become quite a trend among young people to have romantic engagements at the Opera. I must admit, I don’t quite approve of having the sanctity of trials be used for such purposes.”

“I agree,” you nodded. “Although since trials are already spectacles, I suppose this isn’t so preposterous.”

“You certainly don’t mince words, Miss [Name].” there was an amused note in his voice. All you could do was shrug and smile. It wasn’t like you could refute him.

Another awkward silence. Maybe you had offended him with your comment? You didn’t really know why he would be offended though, considering that trials in Fontaine were like performances.

“What did you think of the trial, Miss [Name]?”

You had to think about it for a minute. It felt like you were being quizzed on something you hadn’t studied for. “I think they are both idiots, Monsieur. They would save everyone’s time by dueling it out between themselves.”

Neuvillette blinked for a minute, and then a small laugh slipped out his mouth. You took that to mean that he agreed with you.

His lilac eyes moved to the thick textbook in your hand, seeing it closely for the first time. His brow furrowed. “Were you reading that during the trial?”

Under his puzzled gaze, you felt like you had done something wrong. “Um, yes. Not out of disrespect for the proceedings, I assure you, Monsieur. But I have an important exam for my governess license coming up, so I need to grab any chance I have to study for it.”

“Studying in such a chaotic environment... you’re very dedicated to your goal. I can think of a few people who might be able to learn from you.”

You didn’t hear any sarcasm in his voice. He sounded genuinely impressed. You felt your shoulders relax. It had become an unfortunate tendency of yours to become defensive when you talked about these things. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“What are you studying?” He leaned closer to you. How long is he going to stay here?

“History, Monsieur. I was reading about the older periods of Fontainian history like the Remurian Dynasty,” you opened your book and flipped to the chapter.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at all the underlined passages and marginal notes on the pages. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that the subject of Remuria would make up such a large portion of the exam that it would warrant all these notes. Is it a personal interest of yours?”

The idea that Neuvillette knew what was on the exam was surprising. You didn’t think it was something he would have much knowledge of, but since he was the head of the Maison Gestion, which administered the governess exams, maybe it wasn’t so surprising?

“...I suppose it is,” you said at last.

"What do you like about it?”

That question caught you off guard. "I just...do,” you said at last. “The story of that civilization is very fascinating to me, so I couldn’t help but read more about it.”

No one had ever asked you about this, so you didn’t know how to answer it.

Neuvillette looked down at your notes again. Was he reading them? You had the urge to close your book. Somehow, it felt like a violation of privacy, like he was reading your diary.

You were saved by the footsteps running up to you. “Sister! Sorry we took so long! We got the—oh Archons, is that Monsieur Neuvillette!?”

Your sister and the young master were both holding boxes of Conch Madeleines in their hands, staring at the Chief Justice with identical expressions of shock. You might have laughed if the atmosphere ’t so serious.

Neuvillette stood up. “Good day to you both,” he nodded towards them, then to you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

The three of you watched as he left. Once he was out of earshot, your sister turned to you excitedly. “Sister! You know the Chief Justice?”

“I don’t,” you said, which was a half-truth. You really didn’t know him. “He just came up to me and started chatting.”

“Really?” she lifted an eyebrow. “The Chief Justice, who is so notoriously private that he rarely even does interviews, just randomly struck up a conversation with a stranger?”

“Look, I wish I could give you a good reason, but I can’t.”

Your sister continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes. You were usually pretty good at lying to people thanks to your excellent poker face, but your sister was one of the few people who could see right through you.

“Hey, it stopped raining!” Luckily, you were saved by the viscount’s son’s shout. “That was quicker than I expected.”

With snacks in hand, the three of you left the opera house and headed towards the aquabus station.

The exam day came, and in your honest opinion, you performed excellently. The questions were so easy that you could answer them in your sleep. The results would be finalized next week, and you knew for certain that you had qualified with flying colors. You handed the exam to the invigilator and left the Palais Mermonia with a spring in your step.

Now that you had the rest of the day free, whatever shall you do? Well, since the weather was so nice out, you thought you’d go to the Café Lucerne and get some Conch Madeleines as a celebratory snack. You had brought along your treasured copy of The History of the Decline and Fall of Remuria Volume 1 as well. Just the thought of spending the day eating sweets and reading your favorite book in the warm sunshine brought a smile to your face as you walked towards the elevator.

The thought distracted you so much that you didn’t notice the other occupant in the elevator until they cleared their throat. You spun around. It was as though fate was playing some kind of sick joke on you, since it was Neuvillette—who else could it be—standing in the tiny elevator space with you.

You thought about excusing yourself and leaving the elevator, but it was already descending.

“We do seem to meet quite often, Miss [Name],” he said. “My apologies.”

“Yes, we do indeed, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said, resigning yourself to your fate. Why did he apologize just now?

“Did you have business at the Palais Mermonia today?” he asked.

“Yes. I had to write a history exam for my governess license.”

“Ah, I see. I wish you luck in passing.”

“Thank you, Monsieur,” you smiled and nodded.

An all-too-familiar silence fell. Couldn’t this elevator go any faster? It felt as though this shaft was going on forever.

You racked your brain for something to say but came up empty. You and Neuvillette simply lived in two completely different worlds. In situations like these, it was better to stay silent and pretend to be invisible, in your experience.

“So, Miss [Name], what do you think of the fall of Remuria? Do you believe it was truly predestined?”

“Huh?” That was the last thing you expected to hear.

Neuvillette repeated his question.

“I heard you the first time, Monsieur...I was just confused as to why you asked me that.”

“I simply want to know what a scholar of history like yourself thinks about it. I’ve asked this question to several others, and I’ve always received different answers. It’s very fascinating.”

A scholar of history? You felt embarrassed at how your heart lifted at hearing yourself described as such.

“Well, if you don’t mind listening to the opinions of an untrained layman like me, Monsieur...”

You cleared your throat and began to launch into the theory you had been brewing inside your head for several years. As you talked, the two of you walked out of the elevator and into the main hall, where people gawked at the Chief Justice listening attentively to a plain-looking woman prattling on about Remus and Boethius.

You noticed none of these things, for you had gotten too carried away with the excitement of finally having the opportunity to express your opinion on things that you actually cared about. You also didn’t notice the soft amusement in Neuvillette’s eyes as he observed you.

“...And so, I believe that Remuria might have lasted for much longer if those in power didn’t covet the things that weren’t meant for them, and instead focused their energies on preparing for their inevitable fate,” you concluded as the two of you neared the Café, then smiled up at him triumphantly. It was then that you realized that you had been the only one talking for the past fifteen minutes. “Oh, my apologies, Monsieur. I got carried away. It must have been dreadfully boring to hear me talk on and on.”

“Not at all. I was the one who asked, and it’s fascinating to hear such long-ago events from the perspective of a modern young lady. Have you ever considered becoming a historian or an archaeologist?”

Your good mood immediately faded upon hearing that. “No, Monsieur,” you said, sounding curter than you meant to. “I have not. Being a governess is my sole goal in life.”

Neuvillette seemed to sense your shift in mood, and the corners of his eyes lowered in regret. “My apologies. I have overstepped my bounds. But still, I do believe that the academic world is missing a brilliant mind like yours.”

You knew he was just being kind, but you still couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. And guilty. Your personal issues weren’t his problem. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“I must admit, I had a very different impression of you from when we first met.”

“You did?” What he said baffled you. You always considered yourself to be a straightforward, “what you see is what you get” kind of person.

“Yes. I assumed you to be much more somber and cynical, but you’re nothing of that sort. You’re much livelier and passionate than you seem.”

“No, I’d say you were right the first time, Monsieur,” you said, amused. Lively and passionate were not words you had ever heard yourself associated with. “I think everyone acts different when they’re talking about the things they like, because they’re really talking about themselves. For instance, my sister loves to tease most of the time, but she gets deathly serious when it comes to shoes. I’m sure even you have moments like that, Monsieur.”

“No, I’m afraid not. My emotions are not so mutable or varied as yours.”

“Hmm…” you stared at him. It was true that his face wasn’t very expressive, but many people had said the same thing of you and assumed that you were unfeeling, which you knew wasn’t true. Perhaps it was the same for him.

The scent of coffee caught your attention as you realized that you were standing in front of the Café. “Ah, this is where I was heading, Monsieur. Would you like to, ah, join me?” you said awkwardly.

“I would be delighted to, but I am in fact invited to the opera house for a special performance, so unfortunately, I must decline.”

“A performance, huh. That sounds wonderful. Well, I mustn’t keep you then. Goodbye, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“Goodbye, Miss [Name]. Have a lovely day.”

You watched him as he left. You had been looking forward to your reading time, but now you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.

“Congratulations, Miss [Name], you are successfully qualified as a Court of Fontaine-licensed governess.”

The Gestionnaire’s monotone voice did little to dampen your excitement! You did it! After all your hard work and perseverance, you had finally obtained what you longed for.

“Now, you will be placed on the waiting list.”

You felt your smile drop off your face. “Waiting list?”

“There is a large volume of applicants whose applications are waiting to be processed before yours. Not to mention, there is currently a surplus of governesses in Fontaine. You need to wait for the older ones to retire before taking their spots,” the Gestionnaire dropped their voice to a whisper. “I would advise you to reconsider your career aspirations. If you want, you can also be placed on the waiting list for schoolteacher licenses.”

You frowned. School teachers were a somewhat less respectable profession for noble ladies than governess. It wasn’t as bad as laborer or factory worker, but it was still cause for other nobles to gossip about your family behind their backs.

For poor, low-ranking nobles, a spotless reputation was as valuable as gold. Any perceived blemish could attach undesirable labels that would take generations to erase. You thought of your beautiful, angelic sister, smiling so happily with that viscount’s son. That fragile relationship could be so easily snuffed out by a single bad rumor.

There were other jobs open to you, such as lady’s companion. However, you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t last very long in a role like that.

But on the other hand, you were desperate. You needed to fulfill your role for the sake of your family’s future and your own.

“Okay, put me on that list too,” you nodded tightly. “How long is it?”

“For both lists, it would take at least a year before we reach your application.”

“A year!?” you said. You hadn’t intended to sound angry, but the Gestionnaire recoiled. You forced yourself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn’t help your case.

A year was far too long. You lived in a boarding house in the centre of the city, and your savings were running out quickly. You didn’t even know if you would be able to pay next month’s rent. As a governess, you were supposed to receive a stipend for the first few months after obtaining your license as you searched for work, but those hopes were now dashed.

You thanked the Gestionnaire and left the Palais Mermonia with heavy steps, eventually ending up at the Café Lucerne. You considered going to a tavern to drown your sorrows in drink but decided against it. You were angry and frustrated, yes, but not to the point of doing something so foolish.

So, instead of a nice bottle of alcohol, you ordered five bottles of Fonta. Maybe you could drown your sorrows with their refreshing taste instead.

You slumped in your chair as you guzzled down the first bottle. You didn’t get it. You had worked so hard to fulfill the role granted to you by fate, and yet an obstacle was inexplicably placed on your path. It was such an inoffensive, unassuming role, so why...?

And what were you going to do from now on?

You could go home. Your family lived in a small town that was some distance away from the Court of Fontaine. But you would rather not. You had moved out in the first place to alleviate the financial burden on your family, and if you did move back, you would have to endure your mother’s tireless attempts to find you a husband.

You tilted your head back and stared up at the sky. It was a clear blue, not a single cloud in sight. It felt like it was mocking you.

Just then, a pale face framed with long silver hair blocked your sight. Lilac eyes looked down into your own.

Of course he would be the one to witness your current state. You wouldn’t be surprised if you went home and found him in your sitting room at this point.

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you stood up and curtseyed half-heartedly. “As you can see, I’m no state to keep you company today. Please feel free to converse with someone else."

Neuvillette did not leave, but instead surveyed your surroundings. His brow furrowed at the bottles of Fonta.

He sat down across from you.

“My apologies for being so presumptuous, but I simply cannot stand by and watch you in such a state. Please, tell me what is distressing you.”

You stared at him. He was leaning forward, his eyes brimming with concern. Even though you barely knew him and was still considering just excusing yourself and leaving...

You sat back down and told him what just happened and your current circumstances. As you did so, you felt hot tears building up at the back of your eyes. You squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop them from coming out. You prided yourself on never crying, on taking what life threw at you without complaint. But there was also another reason, something you were surprised to admit even to yourself.

You didn’t want Neuvillette to see you cry.

It was a pathetic wish, but you wanted to show your best side to him. You wanted him to keep being impressed by you.

You didn’t know if Neuvillette picked up on your feelings. You hoped not. If he tried to comfort you, you would really lose control.

It felt colder than it did a few seconds ago. The area darkened; the shadows of clouds casted onto the ground. You could hear the people around you discussing if it was going to rain. Perfect. You would welcome rain at this point.

Neuvillette didn’t say anything for a while after you finished talking. You wondered if he understood what you told him. Surely the Iudex, the highest authority figure in the land next to the Hydro Archon, would find the concept of financial issues foreign?

You decided to grab another bottle of Fonta. But just as you reached for it, Neuvillette’s hand blocked yours and gently placed it down on the table.

Unaware of your reeling, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I can see that you’re in an extremely difficult situation, Miss [Name]. It troubles me greatly.”

You simply nodded. What else was there to say.

“I would like to propose an... unorthodox solution to your problems. One that would be beneficial for both of us.”

You looked up at him at that. You had expected him to tell you to go back home and tell your parents what happened and obey their wishes. But Neuvillette himself was offering a solution? What could it be?

Every nerve in your body was telling you that this could lead to nothing good. You usually trusted your instincts, as they were always right, but currently you were desperate enough to listen to anything.

“What do you propose, Monsieur?”

“Marry me.”

Previous | Next

[istadris]

Blaming @bobombogenesis for inspiring this idea but imagine if after the movie, during the time he's captive, Bowser is angry at everything and especially Luigi who sometimes comes by. Bowser is convinced it's to make fun of him. And maybe at first it is, just a bit : Luigi didn't like his time in a cage at all and wants to make sure Bowser knows it too.

But he's not cruel (just a but mocking when he's confident since it doesn't happen often) and he empathizes more than he should with Bowser's situation. Yes, he knows Bowser has only himself to blame for being locked up in a cage, but he doesn't wish it on anyone else either...

So he comes back and brings a couple of things here and now. Checks on how Bowser's been eating. Refills his water when it seems like there isn't enough. Asks him if he's been sleeping well, he's got very big eye bags.

Bowser at first hates it and snaps at Luigi any way he can. He wishes Luigi would actually put his hand inside the cage so he could bite it, it would be hilarious and very cathartic.

Then one day Luigi shows up right on the day Bowser is having an itchy shell that is driving him insane. In the Darklands or his castle he would have plenty surfaces to rub himself against, but here he only has little metal bars and his dumb piano. He's itchy and furious and filled with murder impulses.

When Luigi walks in, he's confused and scared at first by Bowser's abnormal agressivity (not that Bowser hasn't been agressive but so far it was mostly tantrums, not this bloodthirsty frenzy), until he notices Bowser rubbing himself against a corner of a piano and goes "ooooh....got it!" Before running off and coming back with a toothbrush.

Bowser almost bites his hand off when Luigi slips the toothbrush through the bars but when it starts rubbing his shell...oh. Ooooooh that's....that's so good ??? That's the best shell rubbing he's ever got ?? And before he knows it he's flat on the cage ground, rumbling in pleasure as the toothbrush scratches him just right, sneaks between his spikes, massages and scritches him at the same time, it feels so good his thoughts just leave his head and leave him into a mindless puddle of happiness.

It takes until Luigi is gone for Bowser to get out of that headspace and realize what must happened. And for the next couple of Days he's trying his best to NOT think about it.

(And failing miserably).

Next time Luigi shows up Bowser grabs the bars and immediately yells "What did you do to me last time ?? What was that spell??"

"Oh, you seemed to have an itch and I used to know a girl with a pet turtle and she liked having toothbrush scritches..." (Bowser glares at him like he's about to set him on fire) "I-I-I thought you could use it and you didn't seem to hate it?" He adds very fast.

Bowser glares harder. But suddenly. An idea comes across him. He looks away and grumbles something.

"What?"

"I say, do you know more tricks like that one ?"

Here's Bowser's plan: since Luigi seems dumb enough to actually care for an enemy, he might as well exploit it. And get very satisfying caring at the same time. But only as a side effect of his masterplan ! Not at all because it put him in a weird fuzzy headspace that made him feel happy for the first time in his life !!

Luigi doesn't know the plan. Luigi is kind, a bit dumb and most of all very eager to see again Bowser looking so...cute. so despite being terrible with animals (they all seem to hate him despite his best efforts), he reads up on turtle care and provides them to Bowser. Who is very satisfied and starts looking forward to Luigi's visits.

To the point he even allows Luigi to scratch his head with his bare hand. But only because...it makes him...feel...good....what was he thinking about...? Doesn't matter...

Especially with Luigi's voice crooning nice things to him like how he's a good boy, a cute little turtle, and it makes his tail wag because no one ever said that to him....

When Bowser inevitably escapes (and makes grabs Luigi on the way out), it isn't long before he finds himself missing these strange moments where he was cared for, pet, cherished. Vulnerable yet safe.

And he wants to get them back.

(Or : Bowser and Luigi develop a reciprocated pet kink )

[youunravelme]

drops of jupiter pt. 1

author’s note: this is not a super light read, deals heavily with depression, though it’s never explicitly stated. think liability by lorde/this is me trying by taylor swift. also, this was meant to be one part but it got very long winded so i’ll try to release the second part within the next day or so.

warnings: cursing, drinking/getting drunk, depression

summary: being friends with your ex wasn’t the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, breaking up with him took that slot.

prompts: “I thought I was going to lose you.” / “i just need you.” / “what the hell were you thinking? / “i don’t know who you think i am but i’m not leaving.” / “feel my fucking heartbeat right now and tell me i don’t love you.”

now 

you weren’t quite sure what made you have that difficult conversation with him. what triggered the need to end things and get out of dodge? maybe it was the look in his eye when you joked around with his brothers? or how he said i love you later that night? was it because you were the first phone call he made after every game? or was it the comment he made in passing about his mom asking about you?

the reason, at the end of the day, didn’t matter. because you broke up with him four months ago, watched the joy drain from his eyes, and then stupidly agreed to stay in touch despite knowing that would have to be the hardest thing to date that you’ve ever done.

which is how you found yourself laying in bed, staring at the ceiling fan go around and around with the same sad song playing in the background like you were in some shitty coming of age indie film.

if jack were there, he’d be in bed right beside you, stroking your hair and offering to change the song. but he wasn’t. because you pushed him away before he could see you devolve into a shell of a human being. he only saw glimpses of that version of you before you ended things.

the thing no one told you about breaking up with someone is that you don’t magically forget everything you ever knew about that person. you could still remember how jack took his mornings slow and easy, which brand of protein power he used, and if you tried hard enough, you could still smell the scent of burnt broccoli.

he still lived rent free in your mind, and no amount of alcohol would ever change that.

then

“i don’t understand where this is coming from,” he started. “i thought we were happy.”

you looked down at your feet. “we were, i was, but i don’t know. something changed.”

he nodded and clenched his jaw. “is there someone else?”

your head snapped up to look at him. “what?”

“is there someone else? do you love him? i know i haven’t been very present lately but i at least thought that--”

“no!” you cut his rambling off as soon as you found the words. “i would never. i could never.”

“then why?”

you threw your hands in the air before putting your face in them and collapsing on the couch behind you. “i don’t know,” you said. “i don’t know. i think something’s wrong with me. i should be happy but i’m not and i don’t know how to fix it.”

“we can fix it together.” jack took the seat next to you and pulled your hands from your face to hold in his own. “we can do it.”

but you shook your head. “i don’t think we can.”

“so what’re you saying?”

“i think we need to stop this.”

“as in break up?” you refused to look him in the eye, scared you might find tears, or worse, he might notice yours. “if you’re gonna break up with me, at least look me in the eye when you do it.”

so you looked up and found that your fears were correct. the tears in his eyes only served to make them more blue. “i’m breaking up with you.”

now

in hindsight, maybe going to a bar alone wasn’t the best idea. but when you and jack broke up, he took your entire friend group with him. not that you blamed them, they were teammates after all.

“back again?” the bartender greeted you as you sat down. “the usual?” you nodded instead of speaking, just looking forward to the burn of the alcohol.

she placed the shot down in front of you, and you knocked it back a beat later.

“fancy seeing you here.” you nearly choked at the sound of the voice. or was it the burn of the alcohol? you couldn’t tell. you turned your head to see a smiling nico leaning against the bar.

the bartender furrowed her brow and walked back over to you. “are you okay? is this man bothering you?”

you shook your head. “old friend,” you explained.

“and her drinks are on me tonight,” nico said before ordering you both another round. 

“what’re you doing here?” you asked.

he shrugged lightly and took the seat next to you. “didn’t feel like sitting at home by myself so i came out to the closest bar to my place. why are you here?”

what would you tell him? you drink to forget? to feel? “i also didn’t want to be home alone.”

he pursed his lips but didn’t contradict you despite his face giving away that he didn’t believe a word that came out of your mouth. “how have you been? it’s been awhile since i’ve seen you.”

translation: since you broke things off with his teammate.

you shrugged. “nothing much, just going to school and working. i haven’t really done anything important in awhile.” nico didn’t respond, just chose to keep staring at you. “what?” you asked.

“you don’t look alright. are you okay? do you need something? money? groceries? if you need something--”

“i’m fine, nico. besides...” you trailed off.

“...besides what?”

“you’re his friend, i don’t want there to be conflict between you two.”

he laughed, like a full belly laugh. “last i heard, you two are still friends.”

“i wouldn’t say that--”

“i would! and besides, any friend of jack’s is a friend of mine.” you sighed and picked at the grain of the bar top. “listen, if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine. but are you talking to anyone about what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours? you don’t seem like yourself.”

you met his earnest eyes and blinked back tears. “i don’t even know who that is.” and it was the most honest thing you’d said for months.

then

you sat in the chairs of prudential center staring blankly as your boyfriend warmed up. normally, you’d be staring intently at his smiling face, but all you could think about was the nearly failing grade you got on your most recent test. it was so bad your professor didn’t even hand it back, she just asked to “see you after class” where she asked if you were okay.

you were so tired of people asking you that.

winter was hard, but wasn’t it for everyone?

jack skated up to the glass and smiled, placing his hand on the surface. he didn’t say anything, but you could see the love all the same. you placed your hand in the same spot and gave him your best toothy grin.

it dropped the second he turned around.

you sunk back into your chair and waited for the game to start so you’d have something to focus on other than the gaping hole in your chest.

jack played well, scoring two goals and having a few assists here and there. the best part of the night was how happy he looked.

he’d be happier if you weren’t the dark cloud hovering over his head.

you pushed the thought away like you always did and met him after the game to say congratulations.

he beamed when he came out of the locker room, greeting you with a hug and a kiss. “have you eaten?” he asked, voice low enough just for you to hear. “dinner’s on me.”

“i--”

“hey hughes! let’s go out and celebrate!” nico called from over jack’s shoulder. “i could go for a burger and a beer right about now.”

“i was planning on taking my girlfriend out tonight--”

“no it’s fine, jack,” you started. “nico can come. i’d love the company.” and i’m too scared that you’ll see right through me.

he didn’t look convinced of your answer, but nodded anyway. “where do you wanna go?”

you shrugged. “doesn’t matter to me, you should pick.”

which is how you found yourself sitting in a random sports bar, watching as random men came up and congratulated your boyfriend and his friend. by the fifth person who came up to the table, you excused yourself from the table.

“you okay?” jack asked.

“yeah,” you replied. “just have to go to the bathroom.” you got up from the table and grabbed your bag just in case. it wasn’t that you thought someone would steal it, rather you didn’t trust nico and jack to keep a close enough eye on it and you’d seen too many apple air tag stories on the internet to be okay with leaving it unattended.

thankfully, the bathroom was empty, probably because it had seen better days, but that was neither here nor there. you took one look in the mirror before bursting into tears. you kept trying to wipe them away, but as soon as you did, more tears fell.

“what is wrong with me? get it together,” you whispered to the reflection in the mirror. you weren’t sure how long you were standing in there, wiping away tears until your phone buzzed with a text from jack.

you okay?

everything in you wanted to confess and tell him the truth. no i’m not okay. i’m having a mental breakdown in the most disgusting bathroom i’ve ever seen, i’m not even sure this sink water is clean.

but you didn’t. you couldn’t bring yourself to make him worry.

i’ll be out in a minute.

now

you and nico were stumbling out of the bar with your arms linked, giggling at something that definitely wasn’t funny. you weren’t sure how many you had to drink, but this was the first time you felt great in months.

“i can’t believe you said that to him,” you giggled.

“jacky boy was getting too uptight, had to loosen him up somehow,” nico slurred.

“why was he uptight?”

“you’d just broken up with him silly.”

oh right. 

you laughed.

“he should be here any second,” he said.

you stopped walking. “what?”

“well you can’t walk home this late and i can’t let you just take an uber. i texted him when you went to the bathroom.”

like he knew he was being summoned, jack pulled up in his car and parallel parked before hopping out. “you alright?” he directed his question to both of you, but his eyes were locked on yours.

“she needs a ride home,” nico said.

“looks like you do too, hischier,” jack replied. 

but nico shook his head. “nah, i’m two blocks away but,’ he leaned in and gestured for jack to do the same. “i think she needs a friend, she’s been sad all night,” he stage-whispered.

if you had any cares, you might’ve flushed with embarrassment and denied it, but the stars were out that night and you couldn’t remember the last time you got a good look at them. you were too busy gazing to notice jack look at you, and really look at you. it had been weeks since you’d seen each other, the last time being when you accidentally face timed him and he picked up immediately.

“you sure you can make it home in one piece?” jack asked.

“not my first time doing this, hughes,” nico grinned.

that didn’t seem to comfort jack any, but he let it go. “i want a text when you get home, got it?”

“yes, mom.” nico made a gentle attempt to pass you off to jack, but what he thought was gentle was more like a shove that ended up with your face in jack’s chest and his arms around your waist.

“i got you,” he mumbled. “let’s get you home.” he secured you in the front seat before jogging around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat. he unlocked his phone and handed it to you. “put your address in.”

you shook your head. “i’m still at our place.”

he didn’t say anything, but you could feel his stare on the side of your face.

then

“guess we need to split our stuff up, huh?” jack said the morning after you broke up. he slept on the couch and ordered breakfast, getting exactly what you wanted. it was gonna hurt like a bitch to let him go, but it was what was best.

for him.

you sat at the kitchen table and started eating, waiting for him to start speaking again, a habit he’d picked up the past few weeks.

“i can move out, stay with nico or someone from the team until i find a place.”

you wanted to argue, wanted to be courteous and say you could do it, but you both know you couldn’t afford to find another place in such short notice. and with your lack of social circle, you didn’t have many friends who had room to house you.

“you can take what you want,” you mumbled. “doesn’t matter to me.”

if you weren’t staring at your food, you’d be able to see the pained look jack gave you. “none of this matters to you? we made a life here, and you don’t care what happens to any of it?”

you shrugged. “it’s just stuff.”

“just stuff,” he mumbled. “and i suppose what we had was just a relationship?”

your head shot up to look at his tear filled eyes for the first time that morning. “jack, i--” but no words came out. he even sat waiting for you to say something else before getting up from the table altogether and leaving you there.

you put your fork down.

you weren’t that hungry anyway.

now

jack slung your arm over his shoulder and walked you up to your second floor apartment. you dug your keys out of your pocket and shakily unlocked the door after missing the keyhole a few times.

if you were sober, you might’ve been embarrassed by the state of your apartment with the take out containers littering the coffee table and the unfolded blankets on the floor. you used to be the clean one in the relationship, now you lived in a pig sty.

but jack made no comment of it. he shut and locked the door behind you and propped you up against a wall so he could take off your shoes. he tossed them next to the door and led you to your bedroom. 

“why are you being so nice to me?” you asked as he pulled pajamas out of your drawers.

“put these on,” was all he said.

you changed in the bathroom and came out to him placing a glass of water and what looked like ibuprofen on your nightstand. “you never answered my question, jack.”

he looked up at you and sighed. “we’re still friends. friends do nice things for each other, right?”

“but i haven’t done anything for you?”

he shrugged and helped you into bed. “you don’t need to.”

he made his way to the door when you spoke up again. “jack, will you stay?”

jack sighed and turned around to face you. “i don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“i promise i’ll be good. i just need you.”

“you have me,” he said. “i’ll be in the living room if you need something.”

you fell asleep shortly thereafter and woke up to the sun streaming through the blinds and your head pounding like a drum. the alarm on your nightstand read noon. you’d slept longer than anticipated. you took the ibuprofen on your nightstand and stood up, the night before coming back like a tidal wave.

i just need you.

you wanted to throw up.

but you walked into the living room, fully ready to do a little dance around the piles of trash, only to find it spotless. the trash was gone, the blankets were folded, it even looked like the surfaces had been dusted.

jack.

there was a little note on the coffee table with his handwriting written all over it.

i meant to stay until you woke up, but i had practice. hope you feel better. it was good seeing you last night. don’t be a stranger.

you were gonna throw up.

[the-dragon-hearted]

We, as a community, do not talk enough about how Juvia and Bora are exes.

Like HELLO

Mr. Number 1 Opp of episode 1 who actively participated in human trafficking dating the one and only done-dirty-by-Mashima water woman.

Also Bora broke up with HER? Sir?? There is so much to explore there that, like many things, IS NEVER BROUGHT UP AGAIN -

Okay - so were they childhood friends or was he using her for her looks/powerful magic? Did it start off transactionally or was there some spark there? How long did they date? Did she stay with him because she felt that no one would ever love her, so at least she could be valuable in a different way? Did he make her laugh? Or just put up a facade in front of other people? Was she his backup for a while, a bodyguard adjacent for when his schemes went sideways? Is that how they started? What about the end? Sure we see him breaking up with her in canon - but why? You can't tell me he suddenly didn't like the rain of The Rain Woman. I mean he can, he's a prick, but consider the alternative: Did she see catch on to his beginnings? Expose one of his scams? Grow critical of whatever shit he was getting into? Did she say something? Did she try to stop him?

The first time we see her she is completely covered head to toe in several layers and the rain does not stop. She says it's never stopped. But damn, doesn't it feel like turned from a drizzle to a downpour after him? I think it's purposeful. The layers are purposeful. The hints are there. She fully expects to be discarded after her fight with Gray. AND seeing how she comes out of her shell in the later arcs - watching her change her hair and her clothes, experimenting with new styles with an almost fervent joy - it just makes me wonder.

Could she not do that before? Was there an expectation there? A controlling factor? How much of her identity was she willing to sacrifice to quiet the fear of being unloved? How hard did the rain fall as it progressed, did it ever waver, or did it only get stronger and stronger.

And Bora? Fucking Bora?

Was it REALLY about the rain, or did she just speak up? Did she intervene and he had enough sense to refrain from trying to harm her. Because if the relationship was built off of him using her for magic and granting her some sense of companionship in return, then he damn well knew that there was no way he, a lil fire mage, could stand up to the actual force of nature that is Juvia. No, that meant he knew EXACTLY how to hurt her without inviting her vengeful side.

So he tells her she's too depressing. He reinforces how unlovable she is. How it's HER fault. How it's always been HER, how he's leaving her because of who she is - how he couldn't change her. He probably throws everything she's quietly confessed to him and leaves - safe from retribution and free to continue his fucking diabolical business. Because he knows he's hurt her worse than anyone else could. He knows that she'll either come running back, or she'll run and run and just keep running.

He doesn't know that Juvia only loved the idea of being loved. Not him. Bora can't imagine anyone not loving him (he can, but he's the run who's running, headfirst into greed with an enchanted ring on his finger - someplace Juvia never would've followed). Juvia doesn't run back to him. She doesn't run at all, the rain pours and she decides: "Fine, if I can't be loved. Let me be feared."

Maybe Phantom Lord orchestrated it, the master seems sort of cartoonishly conniving, and Juvia's magic is insanely powerful - but if that is the case, that doesn't change how easily Bora was bought. It doesn't change how Bora knew just what to say to push her to that point. It honestly doesn't change much of anything.

Bora? Pathetic.

Juvia? We all know she's always been lovesick and maybe if she was allowed a bit more characterization we'd be able to explore why. Maybe we'd talk about why she wore so many layers or kept her hair long. Why she kept a "frilly" pink umbrella but wore all blue. Indulging in a childish side while wearing a face of complete apathy. Why she adores the idea of being loved but can't seem to make it work. Why she's desperate for romance but finds more joy in the friends she makes - it doesn't stop her from chasing "true love" but she finds she doesn't need a lover's touch to chase the rain away anymore.

Because the rain was never about Gray, it was about Juvia. It was about how she was loved - not by others - but by herself.

I could spend eons critiquing how she was written... But for now I'm just gonna sit here and think about the consequences of Juvia dating Bora.

And I'm gonna laugh when Natsu and Lucy own his ass in episode 1. Because they don't even know it yet, but they're avenging a soon-to-be-friend. And honestly, I hope Juvia read about it in a newspaper, the pages soggy under her touch. I hope she sat in a park, the sound of pouring rain drowning out all else, read the headline.

And I hope, that even in that dark moment of her life, when she was the cruelest she would ever be, she read about Bora getting his ass handed to him. And I hope it made her smile.