#none of these things have happened to me fyi

[17ghostsinatrenchcoat]

Here’s a story I made, it’s quite long, hope ya like it

Title : the one that got away

“So what are you doing for dinner?” I asked my friend as we walked down the street. “I don’t know, mac and cheese maybe?” We proceeded to walk down the street, the shops soon ended and the neighborhood began. As we walked further Jack's house came into view “see you later” he blurted as he jogged back to his house, my hand slowly raised and slightly waved “bye” I said quietly. As I walk a little longer to my house the sun starts to go down and the yellowish lamp posts flicker on, one by one illuminating the streets, when I get to my house the sun has already gone down, I pull out my copper and silver keys attached to a silver ring, they make clunking sounds as I lift them to the door. I hear the door unlock as the keys rotate, I twist the handle and pull the door toward me, my dirt embedded shoes stepped through the door frame, I kicked off my shoes, one landed upside down, and the other hit the wall leaving a light brown scuff.

I walk to my room, it has a large bed, a dark blue blanket and pillow, fake vines draped across the ceiling twined with string lights, and at the corner of my bed there is a small mountain of stuffed animals. I walk to the edge of my bed and face plant into the pile of toys, I roll off them and into the open part of my bed, I pull out my phone and go to texts “whatcha doin” I text to Jack, a small buffering symbol popped up on his side “eating mac and cheese” he texted, “what are you doing” he asked back “nothin much, just laying in bed” I replied. “Noice” he replied, I chuckled “wanna hang out tomorrow” I asked “sure” he replied, I put my phone on my light stand and went to bed.

In the morning I slid on my dirt embedded shoes under the scuff on the wall “I’ll clean that up later” I said as I slid on my sweatshirt, I pulled out my keys and I fumbled them but caught them before they fell, I exited my house and locked the door. I was in an upbeat mood as I went to Jack’s house, once I got there I knocked on the door, there was no reply, so I knocked again, but still no reply. I walked to the side of the house and looked through the window, the lights were on, there was half eaten food on the table “where was he” I thought impatiently. I slid the unlocked window up and hoisted myself through the window, I walked along the wall and turned on the lights, I wandered around the unfamiliar place looking for Jack, I opened one of the doors along the hallway, I’m pretty sure it was Jack’s bedroom so I went inside “Jack? Jack, are you here?” I loudly whispered. I walked around the small bed, my eyes widened as I let out a sharp gasp, I started to get light headed, I stumbled back in fear and fell to the ground, I pulled myself slightly back away from what I saw. I covered my mouth with my hand as I let out sharp breaths, tears gathered in my eyes, my vision went blurry as tears poured down my face and puddles on the floor.

What I saw was horrific, it was Jack, lying lifeless on the floor, a puddle of blood gathered beneath him, and a kukri point knife dripping with blood stabbed deep into the wooden floorboards next to him, the shiny silver was being suffocated by the thick, dark red blood. I pulled myself farther back as my face turned pale and covered with tears, and my hand grasping at my mouth as I gasped for air, I choked on my tears as I pulled myself up on Jack’s bed and stumbled out the door, my legs started to feel weak when I tried to get out of the room, I gagged and felt like I was gonna throw up, I went to the trash can and started to throw up brownish yellow chunk filled slop into the plastic trash can.

I stood up and wiped my mouth of the remaining throw up and then I heard a siren, slowly getting louder, I looked out the window next to the door and saw a flashing red and blue light getting brighter and the siren getting louder, I flailed to the open window that I opened earlier and lowered myself out of the window, I stayed as still as I could as I watched the police bust down the door from the window “we know your in here, come out with your hands behind your head” they shouted as they wandered through the house, I watched them go into Jack’s bedroom “in here” one shouted as the others ran into the room to see, one slipped on the floor and fell onto the others and pulled them down with him “marshal watch where you're going” one of them shouted while punching the shoulder of the one that slipped.

I slowly lowered myself all the way out the window and ran to the back of the house and ran across the many backyards of the neighborhood to get to my house, I slipped on one of the freshly watered lawns and let out a loud wheeze “I heard something over here” one of the police officers said as a flashlight flew behind me, I ran faster to get away from them, then I heard the sirens again, I turned my head to the street and saw the cop car speeding after me. I turned to the left and I run as fast as I possibly can, I glance back and I see flashing red and blue lights as the siren got quieter, I look forward and I trip over a giant log, I tumble down a hill “AAAAAAAAHHHHH” I scream as I am unable to stop myself as my arms reach out and flail around.

I roll down the hill as sticks and thorns claw at my shirt and pants, I can barely see the world spinning by me as I tumble down the hill, suddenly I hear a loud thud then darkness, I lay on the moss and pine needle covered ground. A little while later I sat up “what happened” I asked myself as I rubbed my head, I winced as I rubbed my forehead, I pulled my hand away quickly, I touched my forehead again, and I winced once again. I grabbed the tree that I hit and propped myself up, I felt light headed for a moment but then it stopped, I looked around, this place was unfamiliar and dark, the sun was starting to rise to my right, the light was a golden yellow as it seeped through the trees and resting on the mossy ground.

I looked around for anything familiar but nothing looked recognizable, I must of gotten mixed up when I fell down the hill, I wandered around toward the sun because I remember the sun rises in front of my house so I kept walking and walking, soon I stumbled into someone’s backyard, a loud deep barking came from the yard, I looked up and saw a large bulky, short haired dog, with dark gray fur and brown paws, I backed away from the dog and went to the front yard, I looked to the left then to the right, I jogged across the street to the local coffee shop and ordered a medium coffee with milk and two sugars. I sat down at one of the tables and took a sip from the steaming hot coffee, I sighed as I put the coffee down.

Someone came over and sat down across from me. I looked up, she had very short hair, it was sorta messy and flowed back, she had lovely hazel eyes and had wire rimmed glasses. She was looking down at a news paper, I saw my face on the back, I tried to hide my gasp as I read the headline “brook is wanted for murder and is still at large” with my picture below, the girl turned the newspaper over to read the back, her eyes widened and she slowly looked up, she raised her hand and pointed at me “y-y-you… YOU'RE A MURDERER!!” She shouted, and other people in the coffee shop looked at me “I’M NOT A MURDERER, I DIDN'T DO IT, I WAS FRAMED!!” I blurted as I ran into the glass door, I pushed on the door again but it didn’t budge, I tried again but it still didn’t open, then I looked at the knob, it was a pull door so I pulled it open, I felt ridiculous as I ran out the door.

I ran to an abandoned warehouse to hide from the police if the people in the shop called any, I went to a low window with a large crack draped across it and I elbowed it until the crack got bigger and more cracks appeared, then I slammed my elbow once more into the window and it shattered, broken glass blanketed the floor. The sun glistened on the shattered glass as I jumped up through the window, I walked across the floor and the glass crunched and cracked under my feet. I walked around the abandoned warehouse for a while, I looked in a large room with boarded up windows on the opposite wall, I walked in and found a desk, lined with paper and dust, I went to the back of the desk and found a partially open drawer, I wrapped three of my long slender fingers onto the dusty handle and pulled it open to find a piece of paper with pictures of kids with their names listed below, one was a girl named Isabella Johnson with pigtails and a crooked tooth, and on the picture a big red X covered the girls face. I looked along the page, more kids, and more X’s, then I looked to the left of the page and I saw Jack's face with a large X covering it and under it it said Jack Aklinn, lucky I wasn’t on the list but I had to stop whoever was doing this.

Suddenly I heard a sound, the tapping of shoes slowly walking down the hallway, I bolted to the closet across the room and hid inside, from inside I could sort of see the person but I couldn’t see their face. They walked toward the desk then stopped and slowly walked to the back of the desk, they looked at the still open drawer then looked up and looked around “Hey!” They blurted “I know someone is there, come out now” they looked around as they slammed the drawer. I could barely move in the cramped closet, I looked around for anything I could use to escape, then I saw it, a cold small black handgun, with a fully loaded chamber and some extra bullets next to the gun. I picked it up, my hands wrapped around the cold metal of the gun, my finger slid over the trigger, I examine the small gun, then I lift it up to the door right where I could see the other person, my finger slowly puts weight upon the trigger “I couldn’t possibly do this, I’m a good person,” I thought as I started to sweat “but if I kill this one person they will stop killing people” I closed my eyes and looked away as I pulled the trigger, BANG, I heard the person collapse to the ground in a loud thud.

I opened the closet door to find the person laying on the ground, with a bullet hole spewing blood right near their collarbone, he started to tremble as they looked up at me, their pupils shrunk as their eyes widened, they coughed and blood poured out of their mouth and they coughed again and it splattered across the floor, they sat up and leaned against the desk “why—“ they coughed again “—why did you do this, who are you”. My hand trembled and I dropped the gun, the cold metal of the gun collided with the stone floor as it made a loud clattering sound, I started to tremble as I stumbled backward toward the closet door, I leaned against the wooden door, it creaked as I put pressure on the door. I looked at my trembling hands, still cold from the cold gun, I glanced up toward the person I shot, I started to feel lightheaded and I collapsed to the floor into my knees, I grasped my hands around my head as tears poured from my eyes, the tears patterned quietly on the floor below me as I choked on my tears.

“Are you okay” a soft voice groaned, I looked up to the person I shot, I sniffled “what do you care” I said in a raspy voice “you seem troubled” they said as they coughed again “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” I whispered “don’t be” they said “by the way what’s your name, mines Jasmin” I sat up and wiped the tears off my face “mines Brook”. “I don’t feel so good” said Jasmin as they coughed and fell to the floor, I rushed over to them and grabbed their hand “No no no no no” I said “please don’t go, I didn’t mean to” I pulled their hand to my head and rested my head on their hand, tears started to pour from my eyes again. Their hand got cold and went limp, I let go of their hand and slowly put it down next to Jasmin. I looked at their face, a smile was draped upon their face, a smile slipped onto my face choking back tears.

I stood up, my legs felt weak as I tried to walk, I slowly went out the door, I turned around and looked at Jasmin’s lifeless body, I felt as if someone punched me in the gut, it felt like I was gonna throw up. I exited the abandoned warehouse and walked around with my hood over my head, I kept my head low as I walked around the street, I took a deep shaky breath trying to hold back tears. I started to head back to my street where my house is, but suddenly rain starts pouring down and the sky went dark, as I got closer to my street I felt hands wrap around my eyes and mouth, then I started to feel drowsy and I realized the hand around my mouth held a scrap of fabric doused with chloroform, I started to panic so I lashed around trying to break free but soon I felt drowsy and passed out. When I woke up, I was in a dark room on the floor, my hands and feet were tied together with a thick itchy rope, digging into my skin. I wiggled my hands trying to loosen it but it stayed tight “Help!!” I shouted but I didn’t hear anyone “Help!!” I shouted again hoping for a reply, but it was only followed by silence.

Tap, tap, tap, I heard tapping coming down what I think are stairs, the light from the top of the stairs illuminated in front of me and shined ever so slightly on me, a tall slender figure stepped slowly down the stairs casting a shadow over me, their long arm reached to the wall and flipped a switch and a fluorescent light illuminated above me, I squinted from the bright light and waited for my eyes to adjust, after a minute or so my eyes adjusted and I could nearly see the tall figure. The figure walked into the light, it was a man, he had dirty blonde hair, and green eyes. “Well well well, isn’t it our murderer” he said while kneeling down in front of me “I’m not a murderer” I said gritting my teeth, “of course you are, you can’t trick me” they said while lifting my head upward so I made eye contact with him, I pulled my face away and snarled at him “wow, a fierce one you are” commented the man while standing back up, he raised his hand and put it below his chin, he paced around, then looked at me “so who else are you planning to kill” he asked “like I said, I’m not a murderer” I replied, he started to get on my nerves for not believing me. He looked at me again but he looked disappointed “so, we can do this the easy way or the hard way” he started “the easy was is you confess your crime and go to jail, the hard way is you don’t say anything and we force you to confess” I sighed leaned against the wall, I started to chuckle “what’s so funny?” He asked “well no one knows where I am, or even cares I exist, and people who did care are gone now” my chuckle transitioned into sobbing, tears fell down my face as I slid down the wall to lay on the floor, a puddle of tears grew under my head.

“Oh dear” he muttered “what am I gonna do with you” he put his hand to his head and rubbed it, I still laid on the floor and my tears stopped but the small puddle of tears remained. He walked over to me and pulled me up by the collar of my shirt “HEY” I shouted as he lifted me up then pushed me against the wall while releasing my shirt. My legs laid out in front of me, he kneeled down and started untying my ankles, once he was done he threw the scratchy brown rope to the side “Stand up” he said in a stern voice, I stood up and he grabbed my shoulder and turned me around, he started to untie my wrists “there” he said as he took the rope off my sore wrists.

I rubbed my wrists as a small red ring remained on them, I glared at the guy “woah” he exclaimed and took a step back, my clothes still wet from the rain, sticking to my skin, I walked past the man and out the exit, I bolted out the building to appear in a damp dark alleyway and it was night, I elbowed into the wall and pushed myself forward off the wall and ran forward into the street. I looked around and saw two bright yellowish white lights speedily getting closer, I reached my arms in front of my face and flinched back, I heard a loud honk and a screech of the tires, I lowered my arms and opened my eyes to see the dirty white car in front of me honking their horn. I trotted to the sidewalk and out of the road, this was an unfamiliar road as my eyes darted around but all I saw was a local drug store and a restaurant ‘dine in and out’ was in red fluorescent lights. I walked around town looking for anything familiar, then I saw it, the abandoned warehouse where I shot Jasmin, I started to feel sick and almost threw up, I entered the warehouse, it was still dark and silent. I went to the room that Jasmin was in, the heavy metal door creaked as I shoved it open, I look in and see the lifeless body laying in a puddle of blood, it was so dark the blood looked black, I walked into the silent room and looked around then I heard something, I don’t know what it was but I heard something my eyes darted around.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I found the source of the sound, it was a rat underneath the desk, it scurried to the door as my eyes followed it. My eyes started to water as I remembered what I did to Jasmin, I wiped my eyes and looked around for the gun, I sweeped my hands across the cold stone floor. My hand bumps into the cold gun and I wrap my hand around it, I pick it up away from the floor, my warm hands wrap around the cold trigger and muzzle of the gun. I looked for a gun holder in closet that I previously hid in, I couldn’t see what was in the closet because it was very dark so I reached in and glided my hands across the items wishing the closet until I came across a small fabric pouch, I grabbed it and took it out and slid the gun in, it fit like a glove, I clipped it onto my belt and left the premises. The sun started to rise from the horizon, as I walked around the corner of the building “if they think I’m a villain might as well be one” I muttered quietly to myself.

I walked the dark streets of the town as the light from the sunrise seeped through the cracks of the buildings and trees, the sun started to pull across the sky and lit up the town as I walked to the park. I came across a few people early in the morning, going for jogs and stuff like that. I walked over to the pond, free from ripples and untouched. I looked down into the water to find myself, dark bags underneath my eyes from lack of sleep, my eyes were also droopy and slightly sore as well. I splashed some water from the pond into my face and wiped it off, it felt very refreshing and cold, my slightly wet hair stuck to my forehead as I stood up and headed to a breakfast restaurant. I went to the door of the restaurant and slightly pushed it but it was locked, next to the door was a schedule of when it was open, I believe it was wednesday and it didn’t open until 7:00 AM, I had no idea what time it was because I lost my phone, I haven’t realized I lost it before and frantically checked all my pockets but no sign of it.

I went over to one of the few people awake. “Do you know what time it is?” I asked a runner. He stopped and took out his phone “it’s 6:53” he told me and then proceeded to jog around the park. I went back to the restaurant and sat down at a wooden bench, it was white but the paint started to peel to reveal tan wood, I started to doze off at the bench then I fell asleep, the sound of people walking by woke me up. I headed into the restaurant and ordered some pancakes, it was a couple minutes and the food still hadn't arrived and I could hear my stomach rumbling. Then the waiter came by my table and carefully set down the large plate with golden pancakes layered in thick brownish-gold syrup. I slid my fork and knife into the fluffy pancakes and cut them into small squares and started to eat them. They were so delicious I finished them very quickly, and the waiter came back to my table “so how was your meal?” She asked “it was really good” I answered “so how will you be paying? Cash or card?” She suggested “oh, umm” I stuttered, I bolted up from my seat and ran to the door “sorry, gotta dine n’ dash” I blurted as I ran out the door “HEY YOU GOT TO PAY FOR YOUR MEAL” the waitress shouted.

I ran out of the building, I didn't know where to go other than my home, I made my way around town toward my house, the sun was directly above the town now and I was almost at my house. My neighborhood started to come into view and I could see my house, and jacks house, but jacks house had the lights on and I saw someone inside, I ran to jacks house and saw Jack, he was fine “fucking asshole” I mumbled to myself “he faked his death and I got blamed for it” I thought. My face naturally went into a scowl. I went to the front door and raised my hand to knock on the door but I stopped myself. "Should I confront him?” I questioned myself in my head, suddenly I started to feel light headed and the world started to black out and I collapsed onto the door. Well that’s what I get for skipping sleep for a couple days. My body started to feel cold, numb, and stiff and I was nearly able to move. I sat in front of a small open closet but inside the closet was nothing but the abyss, I looked into the darkness wondering what was inside, then something bolted out of the darkness, a hand. The pitch dark hand came out and wrapped around my arm as I still couldn’t move, more hands bolted out of the abyss slowly suffocating me in the inky darkness, some wrapped around my mouth and I was unable to shout for help. I bolted up, a cold chill went down my spine and I was covered with a cold sweat, it was just a dream. I thought while relaxing, I looked around and I was on Jack's doorstep, the lights were off in his house. How long was I out for, I thought as I rubbed my head and sat down on the doorstep.

I felt marcid and drained, I stood up but my legs refused to hold me up, I’m way too exhausted to walk. I pulled myself up on his door and twisted the copper handle, I fell inward as the door swung open, I looked around for Jack but I realized the house was completely empty except for me. I pulled myself up on the dining table and I heard the wooden floor creak ever so slightly, I could barely stand let alone walk, my eyes were so tired they could barely stay open and my eyes were burning and started to tear up and I could barely see. I patted down the walls in search of a light switch, then I heard a click and the lights flashed on, I rubbed my sore eyes until they cleared “Jake?” I questioned as it echoed through the empty house “Jake?” I said again but slightly louder, I stumbled around the house in search of him but had no luck. I collapsed back onto the untouched couch and put my palm to my head and groaned in pain, I think I was having a migraine but I don’t know because I never had one before, I slumped across the couch a and laid across it, I was extremely tired and I think I fell asleep for who knows how long, but when I woke up it was dark.

When I got up I was sore, like really sore, I walked out the door that I forgot to close, when I got outside it wasn’t cold or hot, it was kind of humid out but I proceeded to go back to my house, I could nearly walk on account of how tired I was, i stumbled my way back to my house down the street, i almost toppled over a couple times but managed to keep steady. But then everything went dark, and a high-pitched ringing was in my ears, and I felt myself hit the ground hard, then I heard a faint siren and red and blue lights. My eyelids were too heavy to keep open so I shut them. It's been awhile and i was still unconscious but I could hear everything that was happening, I heard people talking to one another on radios, with a static sound when they finished their conversions, I heard a heart monitor, beeping every so often. Where it smelled weird but good, like medicine and sanitizer. I opened my eyes and took a quick look around was wearing a strange thing blue gown, and there were two nurses beside me holding a clipboard with a paper on it and talking to each other, then one of them pointed back to me without turning around “this patient was found a couple nights ago passed out on the sidewalk, they didn't have any licenses on them when we found them, but they did have a gun. When we found them passed out we did a drug test to see if they were drunk, but they were clean. Were not sure the reason for the pass out” she continued to talk and talk about me, and if i was ok, then they started to turn around and i quickly closed my eyes to pretend I was still passed out, my heart started to pound faster with fear, the heart monitor started to beep faster which made my anxiety spike and my heart beat even faster, the two nurses rushed around my bed to check on the monitor, one tapped the glass and i tried to slow down my heart rate, very quickly it went back to normal “must have been a malfunction” one of the nurses said “yeah probably” agreed the other nurse, they walked back around the bed and left the room.

Soon later the lights in my room turned off and the hallway lights dimmed, a pale yellow fluorescent color. I waited a bit to make sure no one was in the hallway so I could make my escape. I sat up slowly and craned my head to the door then to my arm, it had four different needles in it, fastened on with a fabric like tape, all of them were attached to different thin tubes, i peeled the tape off and pulled out the needles one by one, it stung a little bit but once they were out, small drops of blood started to form at the hole in my skin where the needles once pierced, i wiped the blood away and stood up out of the bed, i felt dizzy and i had to grab the metal bar on the side of the bed for support, my head started to spin and i almost passed out, i felt winded and exhausted “how long was i out” i muttered to myself not expecting a response “you've been out for a couple days” said a soft calm voice from behind me, it was an young girl, it looks like she got her left forearm amputated, i nodded and stumbled my way out of the dark room and clung to the wall so i wouldn't collapse to the ground, the hospital seemed empty, no nurses in the hallways, or patients. My head slowly started to stop spinning and I could walk without the wall. I tried to be as quiet as possible so no one would know I was leaving. Soon after I got to the door and left, I had no idea where I was, who knows how far away I am from my house, how I would get home, I have no money, no friends, or family. “I'm a murderer” i whispered to myself, i sat down on the cold pavement, the sun has been down for a while, the cold wind bit at my skin through the cheap gown, i curled up and dug my face into my knees to hide the tears “what will i do now” i said while tearchoked “what do i do, i have nothing, i killed people, and for what” i could feel my eyes starting to burn as more tears flooded down my face and as i started to hyperventilate.

I felt a warm hand lay on my shoulder, i got startled and jerked away, i could barely see them through the tears, my shaky breath started to calm, and my tears started to stop “c’mon lets get you back inside” said the person, it was a female voice, it must have been one of the nurses that were in my room, she grabbed my hand and pulled me up. I wiped my tears from my eyes, then wiped my wet hand onto the gown and it left a salty tear stain, she lightly pulled my hand wanting me to follow her so i did, we went back through the sliding doors at the front and passed the main desk, there was still no one there, probably out for lunch or changing shifts. My tears fully stopped but my eyes still burned. She brought me back to the room i was in before with the girl, The nurse hooked up the the needles and tubes back into my arm where a red crusting smudge mark lay, a bubble emerged from the semi-clear bag attached to a tube that attaches to my arm “hmm” i hummed as i looked at the bag. “Whatcha thinkin bout” the nurse asked “what” i said because i was not paying attention to her “what-” “oh me” i said before she asked me again “just thinking” i fully answered, “about what exactly” she asked as she sat down at the foot of the bed “nothing important” i lied and looked in the other direction away from her but she was still in my peripheral vision, i could see she was worried about me, she stood up and the bed creaked ever so slightly without turning around. I watched her as she flipped the lights of and turned left down the dim lit hallway, soon the clock in front of me that was hanging on the wall turned its hands to 11 pm, it was starting to get late, when can i go home r if i ever go home, i began to get even more worried, my breaths became shallow and my eyes jumped around the room looking for an object that doesn’t exist, my heart beat slightly faster and my breaths got shallower and shallower to the point i couldn't breathe, my heart beat faster and faster, the beeping from the machine sped up, ‘what was happening’ i yelled to myself in my head, i couldn't speak, my throat became dry and scratchy from the breathing soon becoming raspy. The two nurses busted through the door in a rush to get to me but then everything faded to black, I heard yelling, and alarms, and people barking orders to one another ‘was I dead’ I thought to myself, I don't feel my heartbeat, i am calm, finally at peace. Then a flash of light blinded my eyes, soon later adjusted back to the hospital room as i bolted up from the bed, a cold sweat running down my back, “thank god, just a nightmare” i muttered as i wiped the sweat off my face and lay back down ‘but what if… nah it's stupid’ i thought ‘but what if it wasn't a dream, and i could have died’ i lay there staring at the off white ceiling… thinking.

The next day the nurses came in with my clothes “you are free to go” one of them spoke while the other came over and detached the needles and tubes from my arm, the other nurse put the neatly folded clothes at the middle of the bed near the edge “you can change, then sign the paperwork” she set down a clipboard with a piece of paper on it with a pen on top of the folded clothes “and then you're free to go” she finished, they both left the room and shut the door “it's nice you're getting out early” the voice startled me then i remembered the the girl next to me was there, her grayish maroon curtain made a wall around her bed, i stood up and started to get my clothes on, they smelled clean without a particular sent, but they also felt clean, they felt nice, still warm from the dryer. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled over the clipboard but as ii did the pen fell on the ground with a light click and rolled partially under the bed, i bent down while still sitting on the bed reaching under the bed for the pen, but then i felt something it didn't feel like the pen, it felt like wood, i grabbed the wood object and pulled it out, it was a small antique wooden box. i held it in front of me on my lap and observed it, it was a mostly gray box but still had tints of brown from the aged wood, i turned the box around and found a tiny flip lock keeping it closed, i wedged my finger under the thin piece of metal trying to open it, whoever put it here must have put this here a long time ago, then my finger with a lot of force slammed the small lock onto the top piece of the box. I opened the box, it had a small note on it, the outside of it written on it said ‘for my love’, i folded the note open, it was frail and old, it was crumpled and ripped but was filled with love ‘dear my love, by the time you find this it will be too late, and i would have disappeared forever, it's not you it’s me, i've done many wrong things i'm not proud about, i hope you will still love me, because i still love you. Someday I hope we will find eachother again whether the earth crumbles or we bump into each other at the mall. I sure hope you can understand I will never stop loving you. Your dearest, jasmin’ tears swelled up in my eyes, jasmin can never find the one she loves ever again because of me, it's all my fault, my throat swelled and i began to choke on my tears, he will never know that she loved him. I signed the paperwork and grabbed the box then left. I sat at the empty bus stop waiting for the bus to arrive, tears still streamed down my face as the bus arrived, I wiped the tears and sniffled a bit, the doors of the bus swung open waning me to step inside. ‘Maybe I can start anew, be a different person, live a better life’ I thought, but then I realized that won't stop me from being a wanted criminal, that won't bring Jack back, it won't solve anything.

I sulked on the busses itchy fabric seat, alone, no one here but me and the driver, but it was nice to look out the window and look at all the good things in life, but maybe, just maybe i could be a new person, but i also didn't want to change i liked being wanted, you don't have to listen to anyone, you can just be free, but it fills me with dread when i think about the people i hurt like jasmin, but thinking about jack makes my stomach tie into a knot and i feel like i need to throw up, i remember his lifeless body draped across the floor as a bed of blood lies beneath him, and the knife, brutally stabbed into the floor. I wish that it never happened, i wish that jack never died so i wouldnt be a murderer, a fucking wanted criminal. This was the worst couple weeks of my life, everyone who cares about me is fucking dead, i wish i never existed. I stood up and pressed the button to let me off the bus and the bus halted to a stop, it was near the cliff of the town, the most popular attraction to go to, its where our founder founded the town, no one really visits it anymore, it's become gray, dull, and depressing, i walked for a couple minutes to get to the cliff, i stood atop and placed the wooden box beneath a nearby tree, the town draped across the valley like a pond “i can't do this anymore” i whispered to myself “I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS ANY MORE” i shouted, i stepped closer to the edge, single tear fell from my eye, my stomach tied into a knot, i looked across the town one last time, gazing as the sun set, pulling the dark night sky over the town. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, i stretched out my foot over the cliff side “at least i saw the sunset one last time” i said to the darkness, i leaned forward over the cliff, waiting to fall, but then i felt two tender hands grasping the back of my shirt, and pulled me away from the cliff, i was choking on my tears “just let me do this” i push them away and i walk back to the edge, they wrap their arms tightly around me, and i kneel to the ground and they follow “please don't do this, you don't deserve it” they told me “NO I DO DESERVE IT” i yelled at them trying to squirm my way out of the hug but they only tightened their grip, i felt tears drip through the back of my shirt, they were crying, i stopped trying to get out and just accepted the hug. I started to cry more, i haven't had any love in so long i forgot what it feels like to receive it “th-than-nk y-y-you” i said tearchoked, “t-th-thank you” i muttered quieter to them. I started to quietly laugh, oh boy how i missed this, how i missed affection, i never want this to stop “i never want this to stop, i wanna stay like this forever” i croakaly said “dont worry im not going anywhere” said the voice calmly “its ok” they reassured me, i turned around and hugged them back, i never wanted to let go. They hugged me and i hugged them for awhile, this is the best i have felt in years, i wiped the tears from my eyes but they just kept coming, after my tears started to clear up i got a clear view of the persons face, it was the bus driver, they saw what i was gonna do, and they cared enough for a stranger to save their life, i have never met anyone like this… except jack, he would always care for others, and always helped people, the busdriver loosened their hug but i kept mine tight and firm “thank you jack” i whispered, i don't think the driver minded that i called them jack, just as long as i was safe “thank you” i said one final time.

[jjkamochoso]

How JJK Characters React to You Describing Them as Your Type When Todo Asks

Fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: pretend you’re in a huge group with all of the students present when this question was asked :) also, I went with the anime adaptation of the characters rather than the manga, just fyi!

There’s a part 2 here! in which you react to them describing you as their type :)

Yuji:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

“Yeah y/n, we wanna know!” Yuji said, excitedly. You figured there was no harm in sharing, Todo and the group were just looking for fun to distract them for a little bit.

“Okay, well I like guys that are average height, not too tall or short. Super strong, of course, with a cute, goofy smile. Oh, and colored hair is always fun too!”

“Oh man, he sounds so cool! If I find any guys that look like that, don’t worry, I’ll send them your way!” Shaking your head and laughing, you got into a conversation with Megumi while Nobara yanked Yuji out of your earshot.

“Yuji! Don’t you realize what y/n said?!”

He rested his chin in his fingers, deep in thought for a few moments before he answered.

“No? Should I have?”

Nobara didn’t hesitate to whack him on the top of the head.

“They literally described you, idiot! Don’t you own a mirror?!” Yuji’s mouth opened in a big smile. This was great news since he had a big crush on you!

“Y/n! I have to talk to you!”

Megumi:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

You sighed. You didn’t want to join Todo’s antics but you had no choice.

“You don’t have to answer him. It’s a stupid question anyway.”

Megumi’s voice came unexpectedly from behind you. You smiled inwardly at his protectiveness.

“I appreciate that Fushiguro, but I might as well. Let’s see. I like moody boys on the lankier side with dark black hair and dark blue eyes. He has to love animals too.”

You looked at Megumi to see if it registered that you were talking about him. All of a sudden, he sported a deep blush and excused himself from the group. Todo gave you a hearty smack on the back for your response.

“I’m proud of you for baring your soul like that to the one you love,” he said, tears rolling down his face. “Y/n, go get your man!”

You turned to look at your friends who all just shrugged their shoulders. Looks like you’re off to find Megumi then!

Nobara:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

You had no hesitation answering this question, you loved to talk about things like this, gossip and crushes and the sort. Besides, it was time Nobara knew how you felt!

“I thought you’d never ask! I really like short girls with short hair. If it’s a vibrant color, that’s a plus. Spunky personalities are the best and I need someone who’ll keep up with me when I go shopping.”

Looking over at Nobara, you saw her jaw drop and you knew she understood what you were getting at.

“Y/n! You liked me and you never told me?! This whole time?!” she shouted, running towards you. You didn’t know whether she was going to hit or kiss you so you took off running as well. Gotta love the feisty girls!

Maki:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

“This stupid question again?” grumbled Maki. You were a bit nervous to reply to Todo. You had a huge crush on Maki but she was, well, intimidating, to say the least. To be fair, so was Todo, and you heard what happened to Fushiguro so you went with the safest bet.

“I like girls who are on the taller side and insanely strong. Light eyes, dark hair. Straight to the point, always. And uh… glasses.”

Maki hadn’t moved a muscle and you cringed, fearing the worst. Best case scenario, she would ignore you ever said that. Worst case, she’d beat you up. When she came over and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, you gulped.

“Y/n. We’re talking about this somewhere else.”

(Spoiler alert: when you were somewhere else, you kissed🤭)

Inumaki:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

Todo was on your last nerve. Sure, he seemed nice enough, but why should you be expected to tell everyone your personal business like this? In front of both schools’ students, no less! When you were filled in on what happens when you don’t answer truthfully, you resigned to the fact that you were exposing your true feelings to everyone today, whether you liked it or not.

“I like shorter men, preferably with medium length blonde hair, and bright purple eyes. He doesn’t talk much but more than makes up for it with his top tier sense of humor.” You noticed that Inumaki never broke his gaze from you as you spoke. You shuffled over to where he was sitting to explain yourself, but this time it was you who couldn’t find the right words.

“Mustard leaf?” Inumaki broke the silence first, basically asking you what was wrong since you marched over there and hadn’t said a thing.

“Look, Toge, I’m sorry if I—”

He tugged on your sleeve, stopping you. In his hands was a note that read, “I like you too” with a little smiley face at the end.

Yuta:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

You weren’t sure how to answer Todo. On one hand, you didn’t want to expose your crush on Yuta. On the other, would be it so bad for the truth to be out there? He was a kind person that wouldn’t drop your friendship if he didn’t feel the same way.

“I really like average height guys with longer dark hair and big, dark blue eyes. Personality wise he has to be extremely loyal and caring. Oh, and good with a sword.”

“Sooo… Yuta?” questioned Panda, and you nodded in agreement, your face warming with a blush.

“Wait, me? Really?” Yuta’s eyes lit up as he broke out into a hopeful smile. You nodded again.

“Oh man, that’s great!” he exclaimed, and then sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve liked you for awhile too and I just thought maybe you didn’t feel the same but you do! Which is amazing!” You laughed softly at his rambling. This school year just got a whole lot better!

Gojo:

“Y/L/N sensei! What kind of man is your type?”

“Todo, isn’t that wildly inappropriate to ask your superior?” you answered, a joking tone present.

“Maybe, but we’re curious! Please, sensei?”

“Yeah, sensei! It’s just for fun” Yuji chimed in.

“And it’s a team building exercise to know something so personal! You’re always saying we need to communicate better,” added Nobara. You rolled your eyes playfully.

“I meant that to be an exercise among you children, not me. But I will entertain this for only a moment, so listen carefully,” you told the group and they cheered like their favorite baseball player hit a home run. As you were about to spill your secret, you spotted Satoru leaning against a wall, clearly interested in the secret you were about to spill.

“I like super tall men who are lean but extremely strong. He has to be very funny and goofy but with a kind heart. White hair and striking blue eyes are also a must.”

Maki’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets as she exclaimed, “You like that blindfolded idiot?!”

As the kids clamored at the newfound information, Gojo took that time to approach you and the students.

“Excuse me everyone, but me and my new lover must depart,” he announced, taking your hand dramatically while leading you away to laugh at what just happened.

Noritoshi:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

You groaned. You really didn’t want Noritoshi to know about your infatuation with him. It was no secret that he had more important things to deal with than schoolyard crushes so you were afraid to confess in case it made him uncomfortable—or worse, dislike you!

“You don’t have to answer the immature question, y/n,” Noritoshi spoke up when he noticed your discomfort. You were grateful for him but you wanted to keep the peace among your classmates and judging by the death glare Todo sent to you two, you’d better start talking.

“Thank you Kamo, but I value harmony among friends so I will answer this for Todo’s amusement only. I like tall men with a bit longer dark hair and gray eyes. Having an honorable character and being good with a bow is the way to my heart.” You felt Noritoshi tense up next to you and you refused to look at him out of fear of rejection. He took you by surprise when he leaned over ever so slightly to whisper to you.

“I was caught off guard by your confession but I can’t say I don’t feel the same. Can we discuss this later?”

Todo:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

Your eyes went wide when Todo’s booming voice reached your ears. You were super into him but no one knew. You knew you couldn’t fool him with a fake answer, though, and if you were going to feel his hand for the first time, you’d rather it be from holding it with your own than having it curled in a fist and connecting with your face.

“Um… I like men that are extremely tall and buff. Dark hair, tan skin. And passionate, of course.”

“Hm! That’s a great answer! He sounds hot,” replied Todo, smirking, “but unfortunately for that perfect fake man, I’m taking you on a date first because you’re my type!”

You definitely weren’t expecting this!

Mai:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

You rolled your eyes. This big oaf is going to jeopardize your friendship for sure. You really liked Mai but you figured she wasn’t into dating and all the lovey dovey stuff.

“Do I have to answer?” you asked, praying Todo had a change of heart.

“No, y/n, we all wanna know. What’s your type?” Mai chimed in, a sly grin on her face. You gulped.

“I… like women that have short, dark hair and dark eyes. If she’s taller than average that’s cool, and I love a snarky personality.”

“No way!” exclaimed Momo when she realized who you were talking about. You refused to look anyone in the eyes out of embarrassment and fear. What you weren’t expecting was Mai grabbing your hand and leading you somewhere else. Hopefully it was to talk and not get beat up!

Momo:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

You huffed in annoyance. There were always some sort of antics with this guy! You had liked Momo for awhile now but she was like an enigma to you. You could never get a good read on her so maybe telling her how you felt outright would be a good thing?

“I really like girls with blonde hair and blue eyes, and short, too. Having a cute personality is a plus as well,” you answered, hoping that was straightforward enough.

“Wait a minute, that sounds exactly like me!” Momo exclaimed, blushing slightly. You sheepishly nodded your head.

“Because it is. I have a crush you.”

The whole group erupted in a chorus of “aww’s” and “how adorable.” You were nervous that you had accidentally made her uncomfortable but your fears disappeared as she came over to sit next to you. When the students were distracted by another topic, you felt Momo’s hand rest over so slightly on top your own and you knew you made the right decision to confess.

Miwa:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

Before you spoke, you met eyes with Miwa. It almost seemed as if she was anxious to hear what you had to say!

“Girls with dark blue eyes and are average height are my type. I also really like girls with kind hearts and are down to earth. Blue hair isn’t too bad, either,” you finished, smiling nervously. Both of you were blushing messes while Mai scoffed “Get a room!” Your classmates were just happy that the secret was out in the open—they were tired of you two dancing around your feelings for each other!

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: idol!mingyu x idol!reader, 97 liner reader, best friends to lovers, jealousy, possessiveness, reader's got bitches, afab reader, smut, dry humping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, very ambiguous description of what position they're in so pls go crazy with ur imagination, etc.

part 2

wc: 2730

a/n: thank u to the person that requested this i live for idol ausshsks also this isnt connected to my other idol!mingyu fics just fyi <3

masterlist

mingyu couldnt stand the sight in front of him anymore. he knew jungkook was charming, but for him to blatantly flirt with you in front of him was just going too far for his liking.

admittedly, mingyu knew that most of the other 97 liners had a bit of a thing for you, but it was common knowledge that mingyu had been pining for you for the longest time. there was an unspoken agreement; you were his. you'd been best friends basically since debuting, it was only fair that he got to have you over all your other friends.

except you were blissfully unaware of his feelings. you'd known each other for so long that you now chalked up his flirting to just a silly inside joke between the two of you. no matter how many advancements he made, you'd act none the wiser and keep him on a tight hold in the friend zone. yes, mingyu knew the friend zone wasn't a real thing. he understood women! but there was no better way to describe his current predicament. now he had to watch one of his best friends flirt with the love of his life. the only silver lining in all this was that you never flirted back. whether it be jaehyun paying for your meal, or yugyeom bringing you a drink in the morning, you never took it as anything further than friendship.

except right now you seemed to be ... reciprocating? was that your hand on jungkook's chest? what was happening right now? you never showed interest in jungkook. why were you now dangling a flirtatious smile right in front of mingyu's face? and not directed at him?

he could only sit there and watch you for so long until he grew tired of it. he wasn't ready to drag you away and profess his feelings for you just yet, but his emotions got the best of him, marching towards you as he grabbed your arm and walked you to a more secluded area, leaving jungkook to lightheartedly chuckle at his friend's possessive nature over you.

yes, jungkook might've had a thing for you before, but truly all he had wanted was to just provoke mingyu. he knew you werent actually flirting back but just playing along with him - as a friend, of course. and it seemed to have worked, as mingyu was now dragging a very unsuspecting you away as you followed with no questions asked.

mingyu only let go of you when you were finally alone, with a closed door to separate you from any possible intruders. he didn't say anything at first, wanting to calm himself down from his exasperated state before speaking up. he also had to think of an excuse as to why he took you away from jungkook just now.

"mingyu? what the hell was that?", okay, seemed like you didn't have the patience to wait for him. understandable.

"i- just ... why-why were you flirting with him?"

"what? i wasnt flirting. thats just how we talk to each other, you know that. you're the same way!"

"oh yeah? with your hand on his chest?", he chuckled bitterly. okay, he was taking this a little too personal. but how couldnt he? he'd been waiting for you to look his way all this years and instead you turn to his friend? any time he flirted with you you scolded him or just brushed him off, but you reciprocated his friend? this was nothing short of unfair in mingyu's eyes.

"mingyu. don't be so dramatic. it doesnt mean anything."

"okay, but what if it means something to me?"

"what? what do you mean?"

you were confused. and with good reason. despite what everyone else believed, he had been quite good at hiding his feelings from you. yeah, sure, he flirted with you and acted overly affectionate, but that was his just his personality. as you had just said, he was the same way with everyone. but what you hadnt known was that he always meant it when it came to you. his flirtatious advances? his words of affection? the longing gazes? they were all purposeful and completely sincere. and now he was just too fed up. he had waited too long, had watched from the sidelines as you went through any and every relationship and situationship that headed your way. seeing you blatantly flirt with jungkook had been more than enough to make him finally snap into action.

"do you really not see it?"

"see what?"

he gave you a sad smile, "the way i look at you. the way i touch you. the way i can never stay away for too long ... how much i like you."

"gyu, what? i-" you stared dumbfounded at him, attempting to question him, but he interrupted you in order to continue the speech that his heart was demanding him to deliver.

"its been so many years since- ive liked you since the moment we met. i thought it was obvious. i mean, all the guys know about it," he chuckled sadly before continuing, "i guess its hard to tell with all the other boys chasing after you. you have your options open. i'm sorry. i don't mean to push this on you. just seeing you with jungkook made me so- god. i just couldnt watch it. not with him. ive seen you through all your boyfriends, but i just cant stand the sight of you with someone else anymore, i-"

thats as far as he got when you tackled him. or, well, tried to. he was pretty big after all.

you jumped him, pulling his face to yours to plant a kiss on him, refusing to separate even when he yelped in surprise. it only took a few seconds for him to catch up, holding you in his arms as he returned the kiss enthusiastically, moaning against your mouth at the feeling.

the two of you kissed for a bit, up until you pulled away from him, chuckling against him when he whined and followed your lips with his, only for you to pat him away as you giggled at him.

"gyu ... i had no idea. you shouldve told me. ive liked you too. since we met, i mean," you flashed him a shy smile at your revelation.

"y-you have?!"

"yes, gyu. how can i not? you're so ... you," you neared him once more as you said this, your eyes never leaving his. he felt butterflies in his stomach at the way you were looking at him. there was so much adoration in your eyes. it was reminiscent of the way he looked at you whenever you werent watching.

he closed the gap between you again, this time simply holding you in his arms, caressing you softly as he laughed at the situation. he wasnt sure how to proceed now that he had this new information, but he felt himself being drawn closer to you as you both smiled fondly at each other. it was a very tender moment, really. not many words needed to be exchanged to convey how you two were feeling.

~

the juxtaposition was funny, really. you had just been tenderly exchanging words of affirmation as you revealed your crushes to each other, and now you were, well, not being quite as tender anymore.

it was only to be expected, specially for mingyu. he insisted that even if you had liked him back, he had pined after you even more. even after a back and forth about it, he wouldnt let go, saying he lived day and night thinking about you, and he had to compete with all his friends who also liked you (but not as much as him, of course).

the only moment in which you conceded was when mingyu had trapped you under his arms, only letting go to get on his knees in front of you, lifting the skirt of your dress in order to caress your thighs and pepper kisses on them before getting to work.

"g-gyu ..." the desperate swipes of his tongue had you lightheaded, your body limp against the wall while he knelt in front of you.

"always wanted to taste you ... fuck. you have no idea how long i waited for this," he could tell his words were affecting you as he felt you shove his head even closer to your cunt.

"yes ... fuck. ride my face, baby. want you to gush on my tongue," he was feeding off your cries and whines above him. even if he couldnt see you due to his head being quite literally hidden under your skirt, he could feel and hear all the effects he had on your body. it made an animalistic side of his come out.

he was beginning to feel lightheaded, growing extremely aroused at the sound of your voice and the feel of your hands burying themselves in his hair as you pushed up the skirt to get it out of the way, wanting direct contact with him. when he finally looked up, he truly lost his mind. the beautiful girl he had pined over for years; the girl of his dreams, had her head thrown back against the wall, practically crying at the feeling of his tongue licking at your folds. his favorite, however, was the way you mewled his name once he decided to play with your swollen bud, lightly tugging it between his teeth while he sucked and sucked.

"oh ... gyu ... please. you feel so .. ah! you're gonna make me come ..."

"'n im gonna lick it all up, baby. gonna lick it up and then im gonna bend you over the table and fill you up. yeah? gotta be fair, ba-fuck, gotta give you something too," mingyu adored how his threats to pound into you had your walls pulse against his tongue, growing drunk on the thought that you wanted him just as bad as he did you.

nothing compared to the sound of your cries as you came, with your hands desperately shoving his face into your cunt as you ground against him, no shame in the depravity of your actions. he adored how badly you wanted him, having no control of your movements as you cried and cried at the feeling of his tongue continuing to probe at you even through your orgasm.

when he got up, he knew his face mustve been a complete mess; hair pulled at all angles and chin dripping with your juices. you didn't seem to care, though, as your doe eyes looked into his own before pulling him towards you for a deep kiss. he couldnt help but groan into your mouth at the thought of you tasting yourself in his tongue. your pretty mewls of pleasure at him did not help in the least. without knowing, he had begun to grind his hardened length against your clothed core, making you become even louder in the process.

"y-you're so big. fuck ..." god, the simple thought of impaling you with his cock had him thanking all the gods for whatever it was that got him to this point.

he had thought about you every lonely night. every time he found himself alone in his various hotel rooms, dick in hand as he touched himself to completion. he'd felt bad about it at first, when you had barely become friends, but over the years he'd found he just wasnt able to help himself. he'd conjure up a pretty image in his head. you in a pretty little number just for him, lace covering your skin as he caressed every curve of your body, making you sigh against him with that pretty voice of yours. other times, however, his mind would be plagued with darker thoughts; thoughts of throwing you on the bed as he hammered his length into your cunt, not stopping even as you cried over the stimulation. and now he was here, with your beautiful eyes staring up at him, waiting for him to finally be proactive and make you his.

"gunna fuck you now, baby. okay? shit. been wanting you so fucking bad, you have no idea," he knew he wasnt being too coherent, but he just needed to get the point across. he could worry about tender love-making later into the relationship (because yes, he was going to make you officially his after finally getting his load deeply settled in your cunt), but now all he wanted was your tight walls around him, allowing him no room to breathe as you strangled his cock.

and strangle him you did. there had been no greater pleasure in mingyu's life than the moment his cock finally made its way through the tightness of your pussy. he was pretty sure anyone in the near vicinity couldve heard his loud groan of pleasure at the feeling of his dick being asphyxiated by your cunt, not even allowing him to move. the sight before him was one to behold. your pretty face in the most pleasurable state imaginable. your soft lips open while your eyes remained closed, brows furrowed at the feeling of his dick breaking through your walls.

"baby ... you're so fucking tight, my fucking god ..." he was completely out of breath, barely able to think as he pounded into you.

"did you know? all these years? how badly i wanted you? how i thought of you every single night?" he needed you to know. needed you to understand how much he'd longed for you, "my beautiful girl ... all mine now. none of them can have you .. never letting y-shit .. never letting you go."

"please ... want you so bad gyu ..." you didnt need to say much to get him spiraling, grabbing more tightly onto your hips as he pushed himself even deeper, wanting to increase the volume of your cries for me.

"yeah? made me wait so long for you, baby. couldve had you in bed every night. couldve kept you warm n taken care of you. couldve filled you up with cock every day," but the wasted time didnt matter now that he had you to his full disposition, knowing no one else would ever have you in the way he did now.

he fucked you with so much passion that you were unable to produce any words other than cries of his name. this filled him with pride, knowing your mind was empty of any thoughts that were not of him. none of your mutual friends could ever have you now. not jaehyun, not yugyeom, not dongmin. and not jungkook. you were now mingyu's, and he'd let everyone know.

once he finally filled you up with his load, marking you as his, he picked you up, taking you to the nearest bathroom in order to help clean up between your thighs. you both chuckled shyly at the situation, with the intensity having now died down a bit. he was a bit embarrassed by his possessive display now, but was also thankful of his jealous tendencies since they'd finally led him into your arms.

"gyu-"

"i love you," he interrupted you, eyes glued to yours with adoration behind them, "sorry, i just ... ive been in love with you since we met. just need you to know that. this wasnt some fluke or stupid jealousy. well, maybe some jealousy, but i truly do love you. be mine? please?," he hoped you'd take some pity on him. i mean, you did say that you liked him back, but he wanted love. he wanted you to feel emotions as strong as his. he needed you to be in love with him, to never look at another man, specially not jungk-

"i love you too," you responded, interrupting his internal rambling as you held onto his hands, "i wish you told me earlier. i thought i was going insane."

"you?! i had to watch all the guys flirt with you on the daily!"

"then you shouldve done something about it!"

"oh?", was that a challenge?, "want me to do something about it, baby? i'll show you," and with that, he picked you back up, taking you with him as he explained in detail how you'd have to go on a short hiatus while he made you his over and over again, refusing to let you leave his side for even one second. he had too much time to make up for.

[dailyadventureprompts]

I've got a new d&d group and they're almost all new players, with some of them having played with me before in oneshots/ gotten a couple sessions into campaigns that fizzled.

There's the usual learning pains: No one's quite got a handle on the rules yet and is relying on me for which dice to roll ( it's a D20 friends, it's always going to be a D20 unless it's damage I don't know how many times I have to say that). Person A is nervous and over-talkative , person B is nervous and withdraws from conversation, Person C is always running a little late...

But what really surprises me is the difference between them and the group I've had going for 2 years now:

Newgroup THEORIZES in a way that I don't think I've ever seen despite playing this game for two decades. I'll ask them what they're doing and they'll have a multi-minute chat weighing the value of different options. They don't turn to ME, or ask me if things are possible ( which is what new players tend to do), they turn to eachother and ask if they think it's a good idea that they do X or Y and then what could happen from there. I'm trying to be a good DM and let them learn the ropes but it's FASCINATING response. For example; the barbarian says "I'll use my shield to pin the monster in place so we can question them about the villain" and before I can even get into my response another player will say "but what if I used my rope instead to tie them up?", meanwhile none of them have confirmed if the monster is in any way related to the villain or is capable of speech (it wasn't, it was a mimic fyi)

Newgroup is LASER targeted on their goal, which was a surprise as someone who was DMing for a party that purposefully jumped ship on the A plot ASAP and is actively resentful of anything resembling a main quest. Newgroup passes through a mining village that's been deserted after a recent attack by monsters which drove people up into the hills, a Classic rescue mission with a bit of a dungeon delve on top, intended to give the party some XP and magic items before they leave the early game and I stop pulling my punches. Newgroup stays just long enough to confirm that the monsters have nothing to do with the A plot and unanimously decide to leave the village post haste. Meanwhile I have to be careful about what information I drop to oldgroup, as if they catch a single whiff of villanious wrongdoing they'll drop what they're doing and divert their attention to wiping that threat off the map. I've now had to have multiple villains make peace treaties in all but name with this party because of their habit of knocking out rivals/threats/governments.

Because oldgroup know the game really well they're less experimental with what they want to accomplish. They know that things can be solved through class features/dice rolls/damage, and so those are their default solutions to most problems. Meanwhile newgroup has no IDEA what the limits of the game system are so they're trying clever stuff left and right. " Can I hit it in the eye with my arrow? Can I use this spell to find out if _____, Can we use the flying boots to _____?" They're asking genuinely good questions so often that it's made me want to play around with the d20 resolution system to get something more closed to the " drawback/mixed success" sorts of results you get in apocalypse world style games. ( I think I found a neat fix, more on that to come)

[leclsrc]

decent incentives ✴︎ cl16, mv1

genre: this is. Smut, porn W plot, threesome, driver reader

word count: 6.9k

Max can’t even feel his feet on the hardwood floors because you’re on your bed, spread out, wearing one of Charles’ sweaters, two fingers at the apex of your thighs. Or: You’ve been a brat, and only two people know how to mellow you out. title from this

auds here… hi hi hi! scanned my reqs last week, found a max/charles threesome one, and wrote this out in half a day after a friend showed me the challengers trailer (i love tennis and it drove me to write abt a sport that was not, in fact, tennis) also i truly cannot explain the phenomenon behind me finding smut/these kinds of works easier to suss out these days (long form fic i talked abt in the last drabble is not this one fyi) but it’s just ???? like i don’t… i’ve no clue. i hope u enjoy this anyway!!!! love auds :)

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... penetrative sex, double penetration, sexual tension, masturbation (f), teasing, praise central, reader is a MASSIVE brat, size kink, dirty talk, i don’t want to say brat taming but kinda kinda

Your first time in Max Verstappen’s hotel room happened after a tiring night of media and press, where you spent hours together smoking to calm yourselves down. You’d almost been caught by a manager, stepping on your sticks as soon as the back door swung open and your names were called out to do another interview. This was with ESPN, if you remember right. There’d been a muddled chaos of journalism in the venue, all the jumbled mess of the same questions. As young as you both are, do you feel intimidated by success?

It didn’t—and still doesn’t—help, you suppose, that both you and Max had stared, tight-lipped and deflated brows, and stated, with finality: no.

The afternoon stretched into an entire night, and by the time the clock ticked nine and everything had formally wrapped up, Max mustered up the courage and a half it took to invite you to his hotel room for a cig and half a Cuervo divided into three shots each. The conversation had progressed as he drove, the continuation of an otherwise unorthodox friendship between a Red Bull and Mercedes driver—a fact you’d both acknowledged but opted to ignore.

Drivers are friends all the time, you figure—you’re close with few drivers—but none of them are Max. You had made the lousy small talk, commented on how different the pre- and post-race processes have become since your entrance in 2018, which, back then, had seemed like forever ago. “It would seem like forever to a world champion,” he’d said, and his voice is all teasing and raspy and scruffed up. You had laughed, a scoffy little noise, and told him to shut up.

He obeyed, for two seconds, then added, “Do you mind if we meet someone there?”

The hotel room was what you might expect a high-level athlete to be bestowed with, wide and huge but not as wide and not as huge as yours a few streets over. There’d been a thing of cologne left uncapped on the table by the door, Adidas shoes on the floor next to Nikes, and then a low table housing a still smoking joint that left the entire living room smelling like grass.

Somehow, Max had managed to turn a neutral, sterile hotel room into a boy’s room. The scent of weed mixed with Tom Ford cologne. The rap music blending into the open balcony’s traffic noise. The socks on the floor, two pairs, both white. It’s a strenuous effort, you’d thought—and you were beginning to think this wasn’t the work of Max alone. “We have a guest,” he’d hollered when he managed to fiddle with the key card properly enough to leave the door alone.

No one had answered, or surfaced from the hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom, so you followed Max into the bar area. Bottles of booze in varying states of empty, lemon slices and salt now cold—“Do you not call housekeeping?” You’d asked, amusement concealing curiosity as you accepted a poured-out shot. He said they do—they—and sometimes hotel staff are just a bunch of pricks. He asked more questions. How it felt to win at twenty-one, how it felt to be driving, to be the youngest winner, the first female driver. 

Ask me something I don’t hear fucking journalists say all the time, you’d replied back, half-jokingly. The August air nipped at your cheeks, chilling your warm face. He’d laughed, and explained that he re-asked the questions in case you have a more honest answer to give him. The most honesty you could offer is that you’d grown to hate your reputation because it precedes your skill. It’d been silent for a bit then, just the scent of the unclaimed weed. Then Max went, We have a new friend.

You turned to see who he was talking to. Charles was at the doorway, eyes on you already, raising a hand to say a silent hello. “H…” He trailed off. “Hey.”

He was shirtless, Calvins tight on his legs, his free hand scratching absently at his abs. Behind you, you had faintly picked up on Max introducing you and Charles rolled his eyes before replying, clipped, I know who she is, wiseass. He’d taken the weed and almost left, but you spoke next.

“Want to come sit?”

He paused, turned, and blinked. “I’m alright,” he rejected. “We have a meeting tomorrow, don’t forget.”

Then he was back in the bedroom area, leaving behind him a trail of grassy smoke. He was clearly rugged and fresh from sleep, the delicious sleep athletes have all grown familiar with: post-race, overcome with a terrible exhaustion. You’d only ever exchanged a few words with either of these two, and the fact that you were alone with them sent a warm, drawling thrill up your spine.

You were two and a half shots in when Charles reappeared, sans weed. “Any left for me?”

—

If you grouped the grid into years, you would be with Max and Charles—on the younger end, still at the ripe years of your careers. You entered first, though, then Max, thenCharles, which meant you were connected to, and friends with, relatively different people on the paddock. But the 2020 season and your many close calls with Max began the media and manager tirade of constantly lumping you and Max into the same interviews, press conferences, and media days, to maybe somehow elicit a bit of drama out (a tireless and unrelenting effort).

That’s how the rumors started. The rumor that permeates you most is one that asks about you, Max, and Charles. Some say you dated one then the other (a homie hopper, they’d branded you in 2021), others say they dated each other and you butted in. All of them were woefully untrue, in the same way all had some ring of truth to them.

And you suppose that’s what hotwired the beginning of your nights spent at Max’s hotel room, where Charles would nearly always be camped out, then eventually vice versa (Charles’ room, Max camping out; your room, solo, housing them for one night), drinking and/or smoking and/or playing some form of cards. And you suppose again that it was all this that radiated into everything else, all your wins and successes and bad days and near crashes, that just caused the entire universe to topple over, into itself, and creep up onto the three of you in Bahrain that year.

But that year is three years ago, and if you try to detail every last divot of it, you’re going to wind up rubbing a migraine out of your head. And you’re not interested in developing a headache—not when you’re celebrating the fifth race of the 2023 season.

It’s your fourth win this season. It’s all anybody ever talks about, how you had gone and secured a third championship for yourself last year, and how you’re gunning for four, the greatest the sport has seen in years. It’s all anyone can repeat and echo—you’re a fucking legend!—and you know from experience that praise does more than the most dangerous cocktail of drugs to get you high.

The afterparty is full and obnoxiously loud, dark and smoky and low-visibility. You’re wearing a flimsy dress and running a hand through your hair while you nurse a drink, feeling drunk on compliments and confused with certain absences. You can feel the bass through the tiled floor, heels clicking on it as you search, search, and come up short. Neither Max nor Charles have sent you a text, a play they always perform to break a routine you’ve become familiar with. You frown. Hey, somebody says next to you, you’re better than anyone else on the grid right now! You thank them, thinking to yourself—where the fuck is anyone else on the grid anyway? The relevant people, at least?

Half an hour later, you’ve ditched the party and are pounding with your fists at Max’s hotel room door in an effort to get them to open it quicker, after your knuckles didn’t seem to do the work well enough. You half—no, mostly—expect Charles to be the one who pulls it open. He’s more prudent. He gives in easier. He’s nicer and he can spare a thought for the other people on this floor (but the price of this room means there barely are). 

“What.” His voice is gritty.

“You told me you would come tonight.” Your voice is steady—you’d chosen not to drink much, and what little you consumed wore off on the ride here. Even with your heels on and even in sleepiness, you notice his presence towers over yours. “You both said.”

“We were tired.”

You scoff and gently push past him into the room, where evidence of their existence rags the furniture. “Every hotel room you ever stay in is turned into a fucking frat house.” Beer bottles, cigs, gifts from fans stored with precarious care but peeking out from suitcases. 

“We were sleeping. I am sleepy,” he says behind you, unamused by your sudden appearance. He shuts the door and stands still, looking as disappointed as he can. It’s unlike him. You’re buying time to find out what the problem is.

“Okay, I’ll go,” you say, relenting, running a few fingers over the mess of clothes strewn atop the armrest of the couch. “My driver’s downstairs, anyway. I wanted you there tonight, though.” You look up, meet his eyes. Tired and green and fed up. “Both of you. We could’ve celebrated.”

He pulls his lips tight and stands straighter. “I know, I know.” He softens a little. “I’m sorry, okay? Desolé. Just… tired.” You know he’s tired because his team is shit, and you know it has nothing to do with you, but you’re so wrapped up with everything that your irritance fails to quell.

“Where’s Max?” You ask roughly instead, thumbing at the strap of your minidress. He gestures to the bedroom. You’re quiet but stormy when you walk in, finding him, messy hair and tired eyes notwithstanding, fully awake, unlike what his roomie has been telling you since you arrived; you scoff out loud again. Des-fucking-picable. You sit yourself on the couch, crossing your legs petulantly.

They both stare. They’re mad, it occurs to you, which is weird because they had you in between them on that same bed less than forty-eight hours ago. You’d come thrice and begged for more, but they laughed and said you all needed sleep to get up for race prep. Race prep. Race prep.

“Okay, then.” You throw two hands up in a semi-shrug. “Let’s have it. What’s the matter? No use lying.”

They both look irritated. “Nothing,” Max says.

“Fuck nothing.” You trail a hand over the hem of your dress. “You’re pissed with me, but I didn’t do shit.” You try to rerack the race, but you hadn’t so much as collided with them in the slightest, apart from overtaking them a few times, but they weren’t man children to whine over that. You’d shared the podium with Charles, for Chrissake.

“You’re right. You just went and…” Charles blows a raspberry and makes an explosion gesture, opening his clenched fist. “Shat on us in your post-race interview.”

And there it is.

You huff out a laugh, momentarily losing control over speech, and it’s caught in between itself and a sigh, a breathy noise that makes waves in the quiet room. Okay, you think. I get it. Your eyes flit in-between the two men across you, your shoulders straight and eyebrows raised, posing a challenge. “What, are you jealous?”

They’re silent. And you know silence always means—

Your eyes relax, smug and a little teasing as you elaborate. “Because you know I’m better than both of you?”

—Yes.

Their silence is redeeming and rewarding and permissive and it speaks volumes louder than if they’d actually admitted to it. You stare back at them, eyes narrowed, amused, coy. You’d been joking around in your Sky Sports interview. Sure, you’re a bit of a tease, especially on the high of a win. But they should know that by now.

You know it annoys them more to leave the door wide open as you leave, than to slam it closed.

—

“Will you draw me a tattoo?!”

“I’d love to, but you are going to regret it,” Charles laughs, signing his name off with a heart on the frenzied fan’s outstretched cap. The busy, busy practice day had now worn into night, though nothing seems to be taking his mind off the fact that you’ve been giving him and Max the cold shoulder since last week. And he knows it’s stupid, he knows he and Max were being irrational and pissy—him especially—but now he just finds himself needing to apologize before anything becomes worse.

But his priority is getting to your hotel, which now seems like the journey of his lifetime. His bodyguard is a bulldozer and grips his elbow to traverse them through the sea of people who cheer him on, go Charles have faith in Ferrari and yeah, that’s been getting more and more difficult as the races pass without much good progress. There are flashes all around, noise and laughing and whoops and gifts he tries to receive, but he just—he needs to get to your hotel. Preoccupied, he remembers where he’d seen Max last, just seconds before leaving the paddock for the evening.

You spend a lot of time with a certain pair Ferrari and Mercedes drivers, says the interviewer in Dutch. Charles squints at the subtitles and waits for Max’s reaction.

He’s in the passenger seat, being driven around for a change, and maybe he’s a pessimist and he misses you and Max, or maybe the city he’s in is just. Dreary, so he opts to stare at his phone like every other person. The clip’s been posted by a fan on Twitter, and the caption is something jokey—something about a dream threesome. He can’t help but laugh as he watches. We are close, us three, Max says, nodding. In fact I will be meeting them later.

The media’s always speculated, rumors born out of a few close calls outside clubs where you’re tipsy and giggly and getting into one car. The fans, funny as ever, also make some fun of it—posting pictures of you three captioned with something like polyamory is real or her and the guys she told you not to worry about, but God if any of them knew the real picture, the whole three years of it, all the sex and hickeys and rumors.

He scrolls a bit more. There are a few photos of you leaving the paddock, hand poised atop your face to shield it from the paps. You get loads more of them wherever you are, loads morecompared to anybody else on the grid. You always attract the media, the press. He finds a picture with your face in it, smiling at your result during FP2. Fuck. You’re pretty, hair damp with sweat, lips stretched into a proud grin, suited hand raising a thumbs up.

“Where to?” The driver beside him asks suddenly.

—

“Fairmont,” Max says to his assistant as he pulls out of parking. “I’m hanging up, doei.” He presses the red button and sighs, shutting his eyes and driving the steady, increasingly familiar routes of the city. He’d called you this morning but you didn’t pick up. Last night he’d slept restlessly, which was no different from the nights before, anyway.

He gets to the valet parking of your hotel when purple is just settling into blackness in the sky, the beginnings of a civil discussion at the tip of his tongue as he exits the elevator and finds your room, opening it and finding it unlocked already. Charles must have done the brunt of it, or maybe you’d gotten an assistant of an assistant to pass an extra keycard to him. You always plan around them, thinking ahead. Both on and off track.

Like the hotel rooms he and Charles share or camp out at, your existence is terribly visible. Unlike them, though, it manifests differently.

It smells like your perfume, the pink bottle he’d found you spritzing on once, and everything is neat and tidy and gorgeous. A vase of white peonies on the low table, lipstick on the table by the mirror, even the pack of cigarettes you barely smoke is pretty and unassuming on the sofa. The only thing amiss—a pair of men’s shoes, those ones with stars on them that you bought Charles on a spur-of-the-moment shopping trip. He toes off his own beside them, eyes the alignment, and fixes it lest you scold them for it later.

Anyway. It smells like you. That’s the only thing he cares about right now. It hits him like a tidal wave, after being ignored the whole week and then some. Your perfume, your favorite linen spray—that black and white glass bottle you carry around like a rosary—your favorite lip balm, even. He swears he smells the vanilla, can recall the taste of it from kissing you ditzy.

It’s beginning to rain—it had been drizzling already, en route here—and the noise pelts the windows, an accompaniment to his footsteps down the hall. He’s familiar with the layout of a penthouse suite, but still he tries out the WC door, and then the closet with the ironing board, before finally he figures the bedroom should be at the end of the hall.

He’s reciting it. I’m sorry. Would you stop being a brat? No. No, just say you’re sorry and then he’s standing at the ajar door of your bedroom, pushing it open, and he can’t feel anything. The words have evaporated. So have his warm little sentimental feelings, and so the annoyance he’d come busting in with.

Max can’t even feel his feet on the hardwood floors because you’re on your bed, spread out, wearing one of Charles’ sweaters, two fingers at the apex of your thighs.

He opens his mouth but nothing leaves. His eyes find Charles, standing by the door, propped against the desk, arms crossed and fingers digging into his biceps. Max looks at you again. You have a pretty flush high on your cheeks, a slight sheen of sweat on your exposed collar. He blinks and realizes you’ve been talking.

“I said, you can sit the fuck down.” There’s a couch to his left.

He pulls himself together and stays beside Charles. “I’m good here, thanks.”

You eye the two of them. They look like stupid twins in the same way they look like Republican husbands. You roll your eyes and allow it; anyway, you’re not in the mood to order either of them around too much.

Charles has been watching you for a while now, watched you fake moans and exaggerate whines, feigning pleasure over two of your fingers. It’s almost laughable—he’d allowed a smile, in fact, because he knows better. Once, he’d pulled your hair so hard you teared up, nodding, hand at his wrist, whimpering more, harder, do it. Another time, he and Max had gotten you all riled up and edged for half an hour, so riled that all you could mutter out were please and their names when they finally stuffed you full. You’re evidently playing your games again. You love to play around with them. It’s almost—you could almost call it a hobby.

“I’m not going to stop just ‘cause you’re both here.” Your hand moves, two fingers fucking into yourself, pink lace pushed aside. Your cunt is so pretty, they’re both thinking. “Did you think I would?” When silence greets you, you decide to address them directly. “Max. Did you?”

His voice is thin and tight when he responds, “Yeah, actually—so we could suss this out, at least.”

Your laugh is patronizing. “I prefer it this way. And you know what?”

Max stares. Charles has already been told this, several minutes ago when he found you in the exact same position. It’s not any easier for him to hear it again, chaste and sweet out of your lips. You can’t touch me.

See, they would’ve been content without touching you, if they sit and think about it. Max didn’t walk in here thinking he’d even be kissing you, and he knows Charles thinks the same thing. Maybe touch you—innocently, that kind of way. Sure, they’d been pent up, heady with arousal, but that came second to talking things out. But now you’ve told them they can’t touch, and that’s worsened them to their limit. Charles imagines touching you, the same touch he gives when it’s post-race and he gets you alone, to himself, nobody else’s, quick fucks in a dim closet, whispering some dirty shit in your ear and getting you like putty in his hands.

Max thinks of nearly the same thing. Imagines running his hand over your hair, gentle but firm, the same way he does when he knocks at your hotel room after hours and gets you from high-strung and bratty to begging for more. You notice their eyes, darkened; you realize their minds have wandered. So, they watch hopelessly as the smirk spreads prettily across your flushed face, and they remember the events of a week prior, when childishly, they’d acted out, and think, for a second, that maybe they deserve this.

You all know what it’s like to keep them from touching you.

It was both easier and worse then, in 2020 when everything started—when everything was brand new and thrilling and exciting. Easier, because they were satisfied as soon as they got you to come, maybe kiss them both, and they were content with slow exploration. Worse, because you were all insatiable. It felt like none of you could go minutes without some form of touch, during, in-between, after practice, quali, fuck—it was worse, much worse.

As you all grew older and got accustomed to the drivel of racing, you all got better. It didn’t get much easier.

Charles recalls how insatiable he was—and thinks, with amusement almost, that if he was insatiable then, he’s worse now. Now he knows where, how, for how long to touch you to get you wide-eyed and warm in the face even in the most serious of moments. Max, too. He knows how you taste, bend, tease. They love touching you. Just skin to skin. And you’ve gone and put a great big X mark over that.

“So,” Max says, voice flat, the way it is when he’s unamused with a reporter, “we’re in a time out.”

“You can call it that,” you giggle, and it segues into a huffy whimper when you angle your hand just right. “You were acting childish, anyway.”

Charles sighs, long and deep. “We—fuck.” His eyes can’t unglue themselves from your fingers. He knows he could make you feel so much better, fuck real moans out of you until you’re crying. “We were being childish, oui, and it was—we were just tense. I was unhappy with strategy. I could’ve been P2 but they pitted me at the worst time, putain. I took it out on you, and I’m… I was… I was worn out, and you called us childish in your interview.” 

Ever the minx, you only smile. You’d been joking, you clarified that a day later; it was crass, spurred on by team radios of the two of them complaining in the latter half of the race. “It was a joke, Charles.”

“I know, baby, I know.” His lip curls and he breathes steadily, controlling himself. “It was unprompted though. You weren’t even asked about us. And yeah, a joke—but it felt shitty, love. I don’t mind it—we don’t mind it, but—” He needs to think about the phrasing, think about his intentions.

Your eyes are on fire, clearly still angry, but steadily softening.

“But in moderation,” comes Max’s raspy voice. “You’re running your mouth a lot in the media.”

“You’re one to—ah—talk,” you huff back, a futile argument.

“You need to understand that—that when you’re giddy, or angry, you can’t keep turning to interviews to express all that out. You need to sit with it. Just because we’re not…” your boyfriends, Max almost says, “…yours, doesn’t mean you can shit on us then expect us to be okay with it a few hours later. It’s a thing you do. A game you play. And it’s nice, it was nice then, but it’s annoying now, and it’s almost, like, do you even want this to keep going? To work—?”

You recoil. “You seriously think I don’t want th—”

Charles cuts in. “Well, when you play at us like this, yeah. Put in the work. If you’re high off a win, or mad for some other reason, just let it happen. Don’t fucking.” He exhales. “Call us names, then show up at our hotel acting like an angel.”

They’ve always looked out for you like this, known when to scold you or put you in your place for doing too much or not doing enough. They’ve never let personal things cross too much with business, which is a blessing of an ability when you’re three people having regular sex while balancing a ludicrous athletic career. It’s all sussed down to stupid ‘I care for you’ stuff that, frankly, they’re both too horny and angry to get into the grit of right now.

They don’t realize how quiet the room has grown until you eke out a noise, a thoughtful sound of agreement. You’ve pulled your fingers out, both hands playing with a loose thread on the hem of the sweater, rolling it into a ball. Your hair falls in waves. There’s a crease in it from the ponytail you wear when driving.

Your expression is still murderous, but much softer now; you cough, “I—I get what you’re saying. And I know I play… I have these games, or—but, honestly, I could say the same to you both.” You stutter through your totally shit explanation.

“How do you… mean,” deadpans Max. 

“I mean, when I’m acting out, you two just take it.” Having them at your mercy like that is satisfying in its own right, but pragmatically, it’s unhealthy. “You don’t ever tell me off. Even now. I need you to tell me… to fucking,” you’re warm and spluttery now. “Fuck's sake, okay? I know I can be annoying. I know I say stupid shit when I don’t finish and I’m way less diplomatic than Mr. Il Predestinato,” you breathe. “But you two just let me be annoying!”

“Then don’t be annoying,” Charles says, diplomatic as ever—his voice rises, though, nearly matching yours.

“Not like that!” You huff, folding your legs and sitting straighter, and they catch a glimpse of your pink panties again. “When I’m out of line, you”—you point to them—“need to correct me.” They’re nearly blindsided by your request to… be told what to do, which is so different from how sex usually works. From how this whole dynamic usually works.

But Max remembers your manager, and Toto, and your teammate Lewis even, and your engineers, who have all, at one point or another, had to talk you down and tell you to calm down and correct your behavior. So he says, “People do that all the time, but it only works for a second.”

“Because th—” You suck in a lungful of air. “They’re not you two, you daft fuckers!” You’re at the centre of the bed now, sweater drooped over your folded thighs, eyes matching the rain outside. “Every time, I need to be talked down, and you never. Do it. So do it. Fucking—do it. I have to tell you everything.”

“You don’t—-”

“Oh, I do.” You say, folding your arms over your chest. 

“This is despicable,” Max says. “We need to sort this out properly.”

“So what? This isn’t”—you raise violent air quotes—“putting in the work?”

They glance at each other for a minute. They feel you thinking you’re winning, thinking they’ll grovel and say okay we’ll do that next time, can we fuck you? Like all the other semi-resolved fights before. You’re sitting straight, eyebrows raised, defiant. But for them to do that—you just said it wasn’t what you needed. 

And they’d have to be caught dead before not giving you what you need. If you want to be bossed around a bit, then they’ll do it.

“Sit down,” Charles goes. Unmoving. 

“What.” You’re deadpanning, eyes narrowed.

“Sit the fuck down,” he repeats. You open your mouth, but he’s quicker. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You pout, leaning against the headboard and unfolding your legs. He rounds the room, sits at the foot of the bed. It’s a big bed, so even if he’s on it, he still needs to reach over a bit to be able to touch you. The distance is good, though, keeps them in control. Max sits opposite him, both of them on either side of you, and they’re so close, so scrutinizing, so handsome. 

“Put your fingers in your mouth,” he says. You take a second, spreading your knees and obeying. You find a way, though, to make their little challenge all your own—you make a show of it, peeking your tongue out and licking your bottom lip all shiny before hollowing your cheeks. You stare at them the whole time and you don’t blink. It’s hotter than it has any right to be. “Suck on them.” You continue doing it, lips slightly curled.

“You’re a brat.” You try to conceal the whimper that leaves you but it fails pathetically. Charles presses on. “A spoiled brat.”

He’s the nicer of the two. Your whole threesome situation had began three years ago, and in almost every tryst since then, he’s been nice. In fact, if any of them were to ever ‘tell you off’ like you so desperately wanted, apparently, it would have definitely been Max. He’s firm, yeah, but he’s sweet. And he’d hate to boss you around too much, even if it’s something he wants. So he thinks, and he pretends he’s back to quali day of last week. It was a slow morning because of weather problems, so everyone was in a mood, and you were absolutely no exception. You come off as quiet to the public and to some of the grid, but to your friends, you’re anything but.

In an effort to lift the mood, you’d been mouthing off the entire day to your close circle of driver friends, in particular retelling the story of how you had teased Charles post-DNF in Saudi, and even gotten Lando to laugh about it at the time. What a season starter, you said when you were recounting it. You left out a detail: that night in Saudi, he’d fucked you and refused to let you cum, soaking your pillow with tears and goading a sobbed apology out of you.

Watching you joke about it again, even if it was a fucking joke and even if it was because you were mad at him and Max—got him all red hot, pissed off. Seething.

“Do you remember last race weekend when you joked about my DNF in Saudi?”

Cheeks hollowed, you nod.

“Fucking brat. That whole day. Ignoring me, ignoring Max. Didn’t listen to our apologies. Just noise all day.”

Your brows knit defiantly.

“I’m serious. You weren’t being funny. Just a brat. And if you were bored or pissed, you could’ve said so instead of making me look stupid.” You nod.

He glimpses at Max; the latter speaks next. “Open yourself up.”

You spread your legs out farther and sneak your spit-slick fingers down, pushing the flimsy material aside to rub at your cunt, two fingers sliding right back in. You breathe out shakily and wait for them to talk again. You’re still fussy, high-strung, not totally calm and mellowed down yet.

“When Charles and I aren’t here to fuck you into behaving, who’s going to make sure you’re acting proper?”

“Carlos,” you grit out in between thrusts.

They seethe. “Again,” Charles says, unamused.

“Nat,” you name your manager. “Lewis, or something. Fuck. Lando? I don’t—”

You asked to be told what to do, but you never said, they suppose, that it would be an easy job. “Guess again.”

“Toto.” You look delighted at that last one, knowing the implication. They’ve always been a bit jealous there. You thrive off disobedience, getting your two favorite boys all angry and flushed red with it. You open your mouth to try smartassing your way out of their orders, but Max beats you to it. “If you guess wrong, you’re not cumming. We’ll fuck you tonight, but no cumming.”

You whimper out loud, sinking your fingers farther in, adding a third.

“Don’t add another. Answer Max,” Charles says.

“Fuck,” you seethe, slipping the third out on your next thrust. “Me. I’m supposed to keep myself in check. When I’m mad. When I’m giddy and fuck—yeah. Me. It’s me.”

“Good girl,” he rasps out. “Good girl. You have to practice. How does it feel?”

I know, you mouth, eyes fluttering. You scissor the two fingers you’re thrusting in and out, wet with slick. “Feels good.”

“Not your fingers, love,” Max says. “How’s it feel hearing what we just told you?”

“Good, better,” you say in-between breaths. “I’ll practice. I like it. You’re not… letting me push you around. You’re—you can punish—fuck. Me.”

“Yeah? How, then?” 

“Fuck me,” you repeat breathlessly. “Both of you.”

“Add another,” Charles orders, and you nod, quick and pliant, fucking yourself open. They’re both so hard, cocks heavy and uncomfortable in their jeans. You can see the thick shapes of them through the denim, and you thrust harder, a futile attempt to replicate how it feels when they’re fucking you.

“You remember how it feels, having both of us in you?” Max sounds amused.

“Yes,” you moan. Your pathetic imitation of moans and gasps earlier pales in comparison to this, voice dry and thick with pleasure and raw desperation. “Yes, pl—fuck, yes.”

“Why aren’t you feeling it now?” They need to hear you verbalize the reason why, admit it one last time before they give you what you want. You whine, rutting your hips up against your hand, catching your clit on the heel of your palm. 

“Because I was being a brat, and I—you were being childish, but I didn’t want to talk things through either—and I’m always taking out my emotions on you guys, and I’m sorry, okay, would you just fuck me already?”

They’re on you immediately, all words and whispers, fingers at your chin turning you both ways to slot kisses on your mouth. Your free hand palms over Max’s bulge; he’s the one to your right. It’s hard and thick and heavy and you need it, need them. Charles’ hand takes over yours, thrusting deep and you’re whimpering into his sweet mouth.

“Feel my cock?” Max asks, “Could make you feel real nice, baby.”

“I know,” you sigh, breathless. “I want it.”

“When's the last time you took us both?” Charles asks, smile wicked. “Little thing like you.”

You grit out a moan, fuzzy and floating, letting them lift you up to straddle—one of them—you open your eyes and see Charles staring up at you, wonder and green eyes. “Got this, love?” You nod, yeah, I’ve got it, you say, little sighs. Both of you. Now.

This space you’re in, where it’s pleasure and fuzz and nothing else, is comparable to the high of winning. And you know you prefer that to sex, at least now, because racing is your life. It’s the slow satisfaction of being the best on the entire grid, despite everything. It’s the cheers, the raised fists when you climb atop your car and bring the crowd to a crescendo. The even louder screams when you pull your helmet and balaclava off and smile, trophy and all, champagne shiny and glowy on your face. All that shit—it’s addictive, and it feels just like this. So similar, in fact, because when you win, you finish on top of Charles and Max, and—

—Max is behind you, jeans tugged just enough for his cock to be pulled free, slick with lube and prodding at your ass—

—it feels just fucking like this.

“Like Max’s cock filling you up?” His cockhead is breaching your tight entrance and you moan out loud.

“I missed it,” you say, muffled by Charles’ free thumb at your lips, swirling it on your tongue. You flip him off for cutting you off and he laughs. “Give it t’me,” you goad, turning slightly. You want it so bad, missed being fed with their cocks. A week is too long. “I need more of it, all of it. In me, fill me up,” you beg, whimpering, desperate.

Max stares at your ass, grabs at the flesh there, at the string of your thong. You suck him in so hungrily, like you’re challenging him to not thrust in fully; you’re canting your hips backward too, and Max has to hike the too-big sweater up to watch the muscles of your back flex to meet his dick.

“So pretty, princess,” Charles says, because with them you really are a princess. Max begins to thrust into you from behind and you’re getting little moans fucked out of you, watching Charles unbuckle his jeans to tug his cock out, thick and pretty and you want—if you could, you would suck on it, let him fuck your throat, but you’re in the business of being filled to the point of blank thoughts right now.

You feel Charles at your cunt then, your slick making the slide easier, and Charles bucks his hips up and you—this is what you needed, to mellow you down, get you all loose and ready for more. “Take it, baby,” Max says, “all of it, all of us.”

“Ah,” you gasp out. “Ah.”

“Come on,” he grits, voice hardening. “You’re ruined. Pretty little girl. Come on.”

“Maxie,” you call out weakly, your fond little nickname for him. You remember Charles whining about how he doesn’t have one, so you save baby for him, had sussed that out on a night where they took turns fucking you. Your hips torn between the two dicks stuffing you, face sweaty and the sweater doesn’t help, gets you hotter; Charles gets the hint, and with effort, pulls it off you. Your skin is shiny underneath, matching bra sticking to your sweaty, sheened out skin.

“Love it,” you say, voice strained. “Split—fuck—me open.” Your holes clench around them and Jesus, they could have you all flushed and pretty and spread out like them, like this, forever. Charles grabs at the flesh of your ass, slaps you once and you’re tightening around them, breath impossibly still, thighs shaking. Max’s hands hold your hips tight, hungrily traveling up, groping at the wire of your bra to press at your tits. You’re pressed against both of them at a delicious angle that gets you dizzy.

“I’m gonna cum, I,” you breathe out, moaning, “I haven’t touched myself since…”

They both moan at that, delirious. Fuck. The thought of you holding it—for them—fuck. 

“You’re so perfect, so—fuck—slutty,” Charles says, and you can’t hide the moan fast enough. “Feels good, having us in you, yeah? Getting you all noisy and… fucking—shit. I know how much you needed this, love. I know how much you love it. Us.”

From behind, Max snakes a hand up your abdomen, the column of your throat, and wraps there. You see white from the sensation of it alone.

“Tell me—I can’t—please, I—Charles—Maxie—” You’re increasingly incoherent, slick running down your thighs, twitching vigorously. You try to comprehend everything but you’re losing coherence and they get it, they get it, wiping your tears and sweat and coercing you to cum, yeah, pretty little pussy so fucking wet for us, cum hard, come on, you’ve been so good, baby, the best girl for us.

There’s no way either of them are lasting after that, after watching you fall apart and finish on top of them, stuffed full, stuffed pliant, stuffed fucking docile.

It’s your turn, then, to praise, your favorite boys, always so good for me, thank you for letting me cum, come on, let me taste it—and you’re stained with their release after a few minutes, Max biting on your shoulder, Charles’ thumb indenting your hip.

—

What. A. Podium, ladies and gentlemen! Max Verstappen of Red Bull, from P6 in the last race to a stunning P3 drive—Charles Leclerc, braving the team’s dismal strategy to get P2! What a knockout. Of course the Mercedes legend, gunning for four championships now, had crossed the flag first to claim her fifth P1 of the season.

What a legendary race, absolutely proper podium. They showed us what driving is, real driving.

The season is heating up. 

Makes you wonder what happened over the weekend for them to get such good results.

This is F1. I’m sure they keep each other motivated.

[soadiablo]

How would the spidermen react to the (male) reader being all of their boyfriend in each world?

For some he’s a villain, for some he’s a fellow hero, for some he’s a civilian.

Which spider person has which reader and what happens when they find out that they all have a reader?

atsv men w/ the same boyfriend from another universe

characters: miguel o'hara, peter b. parker, and hobie brown.

cw: none

notes: okay so i accidentally wrote a whole fic so what

i'm ASSUMING that you mean across the spider-verse spidermen so that's what i'm doing, if you were thinking something else please let me know.

not proof read

So let's put this into a scenario, you're your own Spider-Man in your own universe. But you have your own love interest. And say one day you're kicking bad guy butt right? Even though it's odd cause the bad guy doesn't look like they're from your universe. Then all of a sudden, this portal opens and another Spider-Man comes through it and also starts beating your bad guy.

Yeah so long story short, it was Miguel and you two do a little banter thing, and you convince him to let you join his Spider Society. Which leads you to the point where you meet Peter and Hobie. And oh boy are they getting some memories.

MIGUEL would probably already have been aware of the fact that you existed in multiple universes. Miguel would probably have a boyfriend who is also a fellow hero, but maybe not exactly Spider-Man. Maybe just someone who helped him on missions and whatnot. So I don't think his reaction would be too strong. He's aware that you look a little like his own version of you, and act like him. But he knows you aren't his version. Although I do believe that would lead to some pretty fun bantering and questions.

Who knows, maybe he might introduce you to... well you one day. Maybe some fun hero shenanigans might ensue.

PETER would probably be a bit stunned. I mean come on, you saw how he was with MJ in the first movie. Maybe you are a spitting image of yourself. Peter would most likely have a civilian boyfriend. Someone who takes care of him after a fight, watching Mayday (i love Mayday fyi), and just being there for when he comes home. That being said, see you as Spider-Man makes him feel... ways he's never felt before. In a good way. He thinks it's cool that he has a boyfriend who is also Spider-Man! He would most likely ask a bunch of questions. Like if you had any cool powers, how does your own suit work, were you also bitten by a radioactive spider?

Peter would also probably try to test your strength, and also get you to meet his own version of you. He just thinks it's cool.

HOBIE would just be amused at the fact that another you exists. Most likely it was a gut feeling, but seeing you with his own two eyes just confirms it. Or maybe he just didn't believe in you, he doesn't believe in consistency. I feel like if you do manage to strike a conversation with him he would probably tell you all about his version of you. One of the first things he'll say is about how you're a villain in his universe. Yep, personally I believe that Hobie would have a boyfriend who's a villain in his universe. What villain you represent is completely up to you. Although it is interesting to know another version of his boyfriend is a hero instead of the opposite.

Would he introduce you to his version of you? Probably not.

© all rights are reserved to soadiablo. do not repost, steal, or copy my work.

[scientia-rex]

Do you have any moisturization tips? :0

Oh DO I!

Listen, skin has two jobs: keeping you in, and everything else out. Skin has to do a lot of complicated stuff to make that happen. Skin is chock full of glands and pores and whatnot. There's dermis (deeper layer) and epidermis (shallower layer), and 99% of what we're doing from the outside is about the epidermis.

Epidermis grows in as layers--there's a bottom layer that has cells that will just keep dividing forever, and then the cells that divide off that layer will start getting pushed up towards the surface of your skin. As they get pushed up, the cells get flatter and more keratinized and eventually dead.

That "stratum basal" is where you have your forever-dividing cells. So when you start something like Accutane, you can't transform the skin layers above it--you can only start affecting the skin as it marches upward towards its death and flaking off, so you have to give it months to take full effect. And we NEED to have some dead skin. It protects us.

Skin cells have proteins that hold them to each other. The goal is to form a watertight barrier. We need to keep water in because we are basically bags of water. Different protein issues (largely genetic) can cause different skin diseases.

Our skin also has glands that make protective oils (forming a powerful anti-bacterial barrier and trapping moisture inside) and sweat (because we DO want to be able to get rid of water, but only when WE want to).

So here's the thing about commercial moisturizers: none of them can put moisture back in your skin. That's just not a thing. The very best thing they can do is keep further water from leaving your skin. This is especially important if you have eczema, where you stand a good chance (about 50%) of lacking ceramides, which are critical to forming the natural skin barrier. As water evaporates off the skin, it takes more water with it. We don't understand the other half of eczema. Psoriasis involves dysfunction of the keratinization process, which is why those plaques form.

So the best moisturizers are those that create a moisture barrier without evaporating more water off. Any moisturizer where alcohol is a significant ingredient is worthless. Vaseline, or straight white petrolatum, is the best moisturizer. It feels greasy because it is. Its job is to form a watertight barrier, and greasy chemical are a lot better at that than thinner, waterlike chemicals. Moisturizers with silicones, like Aveeno (dimethicone is the active ingredient--I know, the bottle says oatmeal, it's a liar), will provide a fairly robust barrier without as greasy of a feeling. Lanolin, from sheep's wool, is also a great ingredient for forming a barrier, which is why I like Neutrogena Norwegian Formulation. Natural oils like jojoba (the best of the bunch) can be moisturizing, but just FYI, they're a tiny fraction as effective as white petrolatum. Like, less than 10%. I'm too lazy to get up and find my Cosmeceuticals textbook to remind myself exactly how much. So if you want "all natural," resign yourself to worse.

BUT!!!! Your skin is not all the same! You have scalp skin, face skin, neck skin, trunk skin, arm skin, leg skin, skin around your genitals, skin of the palms, and skin of soles of the feet. And all of those can act different. So I can't say "apply Vaseline everywhere" because that might be too much skin barrier for your face--what if your face has oil glands that work perfectly well? What if we need a lighter, less occlusive moisturizer? That's where my personal hell was for the last ten years as I struggled to find a facial moisturizer I like! What if you have oil glands that are overproductive? You may need a totally different moisturizer than I need! No good way to figure it out except trial and error while paying close attention to ingredient lists.

Sunblock is also a good thing to have but as someone who doesn't wear it because a) I don't go outside and b) it always breaks me out, I feel hypocritical talking extensively about it. I wear "dad hats" (at least a 2" brim all the way around) and long sleeves while gardening. You should definitely still wear sunscreen, though. Do as I say, not as I do.

[pilfappreciator]

Brandi and Bruce’s S/o looking after the bakers dozen on their own, what shenanigans occur?

Anon this is?? Literally so cute what the hell??? Also referring to them as the "bakers dozen" is so genuis sfhjjfdadfggh—

Reader & the Bakers Dozen: babysitting solo

Includes: GN! Reader, mentions of polyamory, mentions of Vacay Lovers, slightly Parental! Reader, the Bakers Dozen

CW: Bruce Jr.

🍪 POV: your partners go off to some fancy convention to promote their business, leaving you to watch after all 13 of their kids. Chaos ensues

🍪 These little shits are already a lot to handle, so when you suddenly find yourself being the only adult in the house responsible for them? Yeah, babes, you've definitely got your hands full

🍪 Luckily, you've spent enught time at the Vacay Lovers household that things are at least a little easier for you lol

🍪 They definitely behave much better for you compared to other babysitters. Partly because you're smoochin their parents (and don't wanna get in trouble), and partly because they genuinely like you :3

🍪 But they're still little shits thru and thru, don't forget that

🍪 If they happen to have school? Chances are Bruce and Brandi already took care of their lunches and stuff before they left, so it'll be up to you to pick them up (WARNING: THE KIDS WILL TRY TO CONVINCE YOU TO GO ORDER AT THE NEAREST FAST FOOD PLACE! Unless you've got money for 13 happy meals, prepare to hit em with a firm refusal). Definitely helps if you blast some music in the van! They've kinda lost interest in Velvet & Veneer after learning the two literally tortured their dad and uncles...

🍪 Play Brozone. They'll go crazy and shout-sing along with Bruce's parts lol

🍪 Later in the day you can expect a few to come up to you for homework help. They might also wanna help with dinner, but fyi there WILL be a mess. Pasta sauce on the floor, flour all over the counters, stains on your clothes— the whole shebang

🍪 Want the least amount of casualties? Just let them set the table (no worries, all the plates and stuff are made of plastic ajdjakkala)

🍪 A few of them have some dietary restrictions tho so keep that in mind!! Luckily, you can always find a list of reminders/examples up on the fridge courtesy of lovely muppet wife Brandi <33

🍪 If the kids don't have school that day, then be prepared. You're gonna have very little time to yourself ://

🍪 Like they've each got their own interests and hobbies to keep them occupied, but sometimes they'll need you to reach somewhere up high, or for you to play tiebreaker/settle an argument, or they honestly just want you to join them for a game of hide and seek which???

🍪 "Aw, you sure you guys don't mind me joining in?"

"Yeah! Just cuz you're old doesn't mean you can't have fun, too!"

"...Gee, thanks :D"

🍪 They're merciless

🍪 They've all got their own set of chores they need to do. Each and everyone will try to worm their way out of them. All of them. Everytime

🍪 Sure, they can be a little hyper sometimes, but they're like 6-8 years old so that's expected. For the most part, they're all pretty chill

🍪 It's Bruce Jr. who you've gotta watch out for

🍪 He is a shit- stirer and I WILL FOREVER STAND BY THAT

🍪 This guy won't hesitate to rally his siblings into whatever plan he's been cookin in that feral little head of his. Prepare yourself because you're MOST DEFINITELY getting pranked. It's like a requirement or something

🍪 One nice thing i have to say about Bruce Jr. is that he's actually pretty resourceful. Like this little dude is using everyday household items like he's staring in his own Home Alone movie AKSJSJAKA—

🍪 Rest assured, tho, none of his pranks are seriously harmful or anything but like... at the end of the day, expect:

1) to be covered in craft supplies

2) your clothes/skin/hair a mess

3) to have one limb stuck in a bucket

4) all of the above

🍪 Honestly I feel like Bruce and Brandi would be surprised if they came back and DIDN'T find you sporting paint-stained clothes or with glitter in your hair. Maybe a few stickers slapped on your forehead??

🍪 The trick to dealing with this little agent of chaos is to either keep him separated from his siblings long enough so he doesn't manage to rope anyone into his schemes, or strike some kinda deal with him. Considering he's got 12 siblings, all of whom you need to be watching over at the same time, chances are the second option is your safest bet

🍪 Chances are he'll ask for something semi-illegal, or at the very least something that DEFINITELY requires adult supervision

🍪 DO NOT LET THIS BOY TALK YOU INTO BUYING ANYTHING RELATED TO FIRE. Seems like an easy task, I know. Unfortunately this little shit enherited his dad's charm so watch out o_o

🍪 He'll settle for a happy meal tho. Hopefully you didn't already cave and take him and his siblings out to eat earlier, otherwise you're spending even more money ajsjakkala

🍪 If any errands need to be run during your time there, you BETTER BELIEVE they're all coming with. You'll need to be incredibly vigilant during this time cuz these kids are even more rowdy in public than they are at home. If you're smart about it, you can turn the whole thing into a game! If everyone manages to grab everything off the grocery list in a certain amount of time or if they're able to find the best quality (but relatively cheap) brand of laundry detergent, then you'll buy each of them candy or something uwu

🍪 You can count on them to be cooperative, but like... bring the family child leash just in case

🍪 Cough cough (Bruce Jr.) cough cough

🍪 MOVIES BEFORE BED! It's a bit of a family tradition in the Vacay Lovers household. Yknow, just some way for the kids to spend time together before the day ends

🍪 You're most definitely gonna be playing tiebreaker when the time comes. All 13 of them have wildly different tastes

🍪 Absolutely no scary movies tho. They'll try to argue that theyre able to handle it, but at the end of the night expect to find yourself under a pile of frightened children who've ctawled into bed with you

🍪 Their collective nightly routine is literally?? So chaotic??? Like all of them are simultaneously trying to squeeze into the same bathroom just to brush their teeth... running in and out of their respective rooms... trying to sneak some extra dessert before bed

🍪 Literally never a quite moment in this household jshskakakam

🍪 You might have to read a few bedtime stories or sing a lullaby—

"Dad does it better"

"Just go to bed, Benji"

—but once they've settled in under the covers? Out like a light. They are unconscious the moment their heads hit their pillows

🍪 You'll probably have a mess (or two... or three) to clean up afterwards, but once they're taken care of? Dishes washed? Counters clean? You're more than welcome to crash on Bruce and Brandi's bed <33

🍪 Said couple returns home the next morning...

🍪 Just to find their kids drawing on your face with marker. Cross your fingers that none of its permanent 💀💀

Hope this was good! I know I call them all little shits BUT I MEAN IT AFFECTIONATELY OKAY AJSJAKA

Ngl I feel like this could have been like... more colorful? Like I was very general about the kids and their behavior as a whole, but now I'm super tempted to make a post describing each of them and all their little quirks! Just something fun to do that'll help me write them better in the future ;3

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Nine

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Cussing and a mild mention of killing vampires

Notes: This chapter is… the longest one yet and definitely my fav so far - I love me some protective men, enjoy!! [FYI: Y/m/n is your middle name]

Word Count: 5096

Series Masterlist

• March 12th, 2005 • Forks, WA •

Jasper

I pull my motorcycle to a stop at an outlook over the Olympic Forest just outside of town, not wanting to go far for her first ride, but also wanting to get her alone and just be. I reach a hand behind me for her to take as she climbs off before I pop out the kickstand and get off myself. She’s handing me my protective gear as I turn to see what’s got her eager to leave my side and I’m met with the second most gorgeous view, the first being the girl before me.

The deep green of the forest clashes against the oranges, pinks, and purples of the descending sun to make for a spectacular sunset. To make it even better, I can see the reflection of it in her eyes - the duality of beauty rendering me speechless for longer than I’d like to admit.

This gorgeous creature, this kind and beautiful soul before me is meant to be mine. My singer, the greatest temptation a vampire could ever experience and I have found her. How on earth a monster like me is supposed to be an equal for an angel like her, I might never know.

Reader

He’s staring at me in such a way that I feel completely alive. It’s causing my face to heat, but I could care less about being embarrassed-this beautiful sunset and the vampire next to me have snatched all rational thought.

I turn to meet his eyes and I can tell a million things are running through his mind by the slightly unfocused look. The hint of a grin on his perfect lips bring a smile to my own, “Penny for your thoughts?” I ask.

“You’d have millions.” He jokes, but I’m slightly lost and tilt my head. “My thoughts are nothing but you, darlin’. You’d have millions if you had a penny for each one.”

My mouth gapes like a fish for a few seconds, for someone so stoic usually, he sure can make a girl swoon. So instead of replying, I turn my gaze to his hands, running my fingers over them and up his wrist. Before they could ascend any further though, one of his hands reaches up to stop me. Fearing that I’ve unknowingly pushed a boundary, I glance up in alarm.

“There is a reason I wear sleeves, sweetheart.” He explains quietly with a sad half-smile.

“If you think any part of you could scare me, you’re wrong Hale.” I mean it and I know he can sense the truth of my words.

“I’ve done things, horrible things for a horrible person, and I did them without question-“

“So tell me and let me prove that none of that matters now.” I lift a brow daring him to defy me.

In response he pushes the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal scarred forearms. Not just typical scarring, but bite marks. I let out a gasp at the hard ridges and pits that penetrate his skin, there must be hundreds and they have to have been painful to permanently damage the skin of a vampire. My wide eyes meet his and I can tell he’s holding his breath for what I might say.

“Who-what could do this to you? Why? How?” Questions begin tumbling from my lips as my fingers float across his damaged skin, anguish beginning to seep into my bones as his explanation begins.

“I was the youngest major in the Texas Calvary, evacuating women and children from the battlefield when I… came across three women that I thought required assistance. Being the gentleman and soldier I was, I offered them aid and it cost me my life.” He inhaled a deep breath before continuing, still watching my hands explore his skin. “Their leader Maria, was the one that changed me with the intention to use me as a general for her own army. An army of newly turned vampires, impossible for anyone, human or vampire, to beat. I was…” A heavy pause, “Also in charge of dispatching them once they outlived her usefulness for her.”

I meet his eyes as he struggles through that last sentence. Unbelievable. This man? This kind, gentle, sweet, considerate man was used to train and then kill other people for a woman clearly not strong enough to do it herself? I’m in shock at the audacity.

“If you’re waiting for me to run screaming, you’ll have to try harder.” I whisper, afraid I might scream in frustration should I speak any louder.

He puffs out a breath at my words and shakes his head. “You amaze me at every turn, you know that?” One hand pulls away from my touch to run fingers across my cheekbone in a tender gesture, drastically contrasting the story his skin tells.

“You think you can scare me, but I’m still here.” I’m here because I’m a magnet drawn to you and I don’t ever want to be pulled away, but I keep those words from slipping out with the rest.

“I’m a monster that has killed more people than I can remember, and that’s okay with you?” He asks honestly and bluntly, eyes searching mine.

“You did what was asked of you by someone that manipulated you, that is not on you and it does not make you a monster, Jasper.” The conviction in my voice is strong.

“You feel so strongly for my past and my demons, but you won’t let me in that pretty little mind of yours, why is that?” He taps on my temple gently, questioning my very being.

“Who said you aren’t already in here?” It’s my turn to tap my own temple, but my words and actions are a little more harsh now that my own demons are rushing to the surface. “You are in every single thought night and day, Hale-“

“Then why do you play this game - one moment you’re all in and the next you’re scared-“

“Because someone like you don’t waste their time with someone like me!” The quiet is deafening for a few beats following my confession. “You are gorgeous, and-and mysterious, and everything a girl could dream to have-“ but he interrupts my ramble with hands cradling my face.

“And utterly taken by you. You, darlin’. Never have I felt so alive, so seen by someone. Someone that is so incredible she caught me off guard with a door and a simple look, me-a vampire!” His words are frantic.

“I’m just a plain ‘ole regular girl like everyone else, the one you date before the real one comes along and-”

“No.” One word, one syllable and yet it holds so much weight. “Do not diminish yourself because of the value you’ve placed upon me, I will not allow it.”

What do I even say to that? Before I could articulate a response, his face lowers and his forehead rests on mine. “You are everything I need and I want you to understand that I’m not going anywhere and no other will ever take me away from you or catch my eye if you’re worried about something like that.”

A rumble in the distance reminds us of our surroundings again, darkness having moved in and a storm notifying us that it’s on the way.

“Let me get you home, sweetheart.” A kiss is delicately placed high on my cheekbone, tender and cool to soothe the heat that might be permanently settled there.

• March 13th, 2005 • Home •

Reader

The outing with Jasper yesterday has had my mind in a spin since he dropped me off at home. I can’t believe he not only indulged my request, but that I got to essentially be a human backpack for an insanely hot vampire. And our conversation… I can’t even - he flipped my world around and stole my breath away.

I’m still breathless. And looking for my stupid hat.

“Mom, have you seen my Cubs baseball hat?” I yell from the top of the stairs.

“No sweetie, did you check the bottom of the hall closet? Maybe it fell in there!” She yelled back from her spot fixing lunch in the kitchen.

I huff and run to the closet, swinging the door open and spotting the blue hat tossed haphazardly on top of our snowshoes. Great, now I’ll smell like feet. I hurry to the bathroom and grab the fabric spray from under the sink as the front doorbell rings.

Shit-shit-shit, he’s early! I finish tying my shoes to prevent myself from tripping down the stairs in my haste. As I reach the top, I hear my mother beat me to the front door to invite Jasper in, swinging the door wide in her excitement at a boy standing on our front porch.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” He drawls in his southern accent, he offers his hand out to shake my mother’s, “Jasper Hale.” His eyes flicking up to meet mine as I descend the stairs, my mother accepting the gentlemanly gesture.

“Oh good afternoon dear!” My mother turns to me, “I made lunch in the kitchen if you two are hungry.”

“No thanks mom, we’ll just get going!” I tell her breathlessly, popping a kiss to her cheek as I brush past, “Love you!”

She sputters a second, trying to catch up, “Love you too dear, just be home at a reasonable time!” She yells after me, standing in the doorway to our home.

“I won’t keep her too late, ma’am.” Jasper flashes her a smile, “Promise I’ll keep her safe, to the best of my ability.” Finally he gives in to my tug of his jacket sleeve to follow me down the front steps.

My mother continues to stand on the porch, watching us like a hawk as Jasper opens the passenger door for me to Edward’s Volvo. He throws a wink at me before shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side, waving goodbye to my mother who returns it.

“In a hurry, doll?” He asks, placing his right hand on my headrest as he leans over to back out of my drive.

I can’t think straight when he invades my space like this, “I just spared you from the third degree my mother was about to lay on you back there. You’re welcome, Hale.” I huff, trying to not let his proximity affect me.

He chuckles, for what I’m not entirely sure: my increasing heart rate or the comment about my mother.

“I think I can handle your mom.” He eventually responds, hands now having returned to safe territory on the steering wheel.

“Oh of that I have no doubt, but she would’ve kept us entirely too long and I’m not about to let you keep me from watching the most interesting game of baseball I’ve ever witnessed.” I responded.

Lord knows my mother would’ve embarrassed me by asking what his intentions were and we don’t need that kind of talk. We don’t need it yet, anyways.

• March 13th, 2005 • Cullen Residence •

Reader

Jasper parked the car in the garage of his massive home, if a work of architecture could be called ‘home’. He speeds around to the passenger side to open my door before I even got the chance to reach for the handle.

“I can open my own door, you know?” I mention as I stand from the car.

“Where I’m from, a lady should never have to open a door for herself.” He states matter-of-factly, shutting the door and moving past me to lead the way, arm brushing my shoulder and creating goosebumps in its wake.

Flustered by his chivalry, I follow him silently inside.

“Where is everyone?” I ask, taking in the view of the forest from the large windows.

It takes him a minute to respond, having disappeared somewhere momentarily just to return with a jacket draped over his arm and a warm-looking scarf in hand.

“Edward is picking up Isabella and should be here any moment to get us. The rest of my family is in the clearing warming up.” He answers, draping the scarf around my neck with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

Before I could comment on the look, Edward honked impatiently from the driveway.

Jasper

A little part of me wishes I just ran to the clearing while Y/n rode with Edward and Bella, just to clear my head from her scent. The rest of me is happy to have a few more moments in her presence, even if for just a little while.

I make eye contact with my brother in the rear view mirror, knowing he can read my thoughts. He gives a small dip of his chin in acknowledgment, as if to say he understands the internal conflict of wanting to be close to her while knowing it’s also torture to do so.

“Are you warm enough?” I ask, catching her rubbing her hands together in her lap.

“Oh I’ll be fine, I’m just excited is all.” She responds, I can tell she isn’t entirely telling the truth the way the little white lie taints her emotions. Unfortunately I can’t tell if it’s about the temperature or her excitement at the prospect of watching a vampire baseball game. I chuckle and glance out my window, now I know how Edward feels not being able to read Isabella’s thoughts.

My brother lets out a small laugh himself causing the women to turn on us, “What?” They ask in sync.

“Edward finds my thoughts amusing is all, nothing to worry about darlin’.” I tell Y/n. I notice her face blanche and immediately realize I never told her of Edward’s power.

“He-he what?” She stutters, clearly worrying over the invasion of privacy she was never warned about and I kick myself for not having this conversation beforehand.

“Edward can read the thoughts of those in his vicinity. He’s respectful with his power though, he wouldn’t invade your privacy like that.” I reassure her, using a portion of my power to round out some of her nerves.

“I can hear you, but it sort of passes through.” Edward hesitates, “It’s like sitting in a room full of people conversing, but not really paying attention even though you can hear them talking all at once. I’m used to communicating with Jasper this way, I apologize for not prefacing my abilities sooner.” He finishes, glancing back to look over his shoulder with a sad smile.

“Thank you Edward, I appreciate that very much.” Y/n sighs, “I think it’s actually a pretty amazing power to have.” She tells him with a smile.

“Sometimes it is,” Edward glances to Bella, “Sometimes it isn’t.”

“Why did we have to wait for a thunderstorm to play baseball?” She turns to ask me innocently after a beat of silence.

“Oh you’re about to see.” I tell her with a grin as Edward pulls the Jeep to a stop at the edge of a clearing, the rest of my family gathered not far away.

As I help her out of Emmett’s Wrangler, I remove my jacket to place around her shoulders.

“Before you say anything, I don’t need it. Keep it warm for me.” I can’t resist placing a kiss to the crown of her head, her scent mingling with mine making for a heady mixture. I turn and lead her to where everyone is gathered, Emmett sending a pointed look my way at the interaction he just witnessed. I shrug as a way of answering, trying not to make it a big deal since he’s always been worried about my loneliness the last few decades.

“Alright let’s pick teams!” Carlisle announces, attempting to wrangle our rowdy bunch.

Reader

As the Cullen’s separate into their teams, I follow Esme as she tugs Bella and I over to home plate explaining the game. Carlisle and Rosalie play-flight over who gets to go first, but my eye is on Jasper as he warms up with a few test-swings with a bat.

“We could use a few impartial opinions.” Esme smiles at us, shifting Bella and I to stand behind her as she assumes the ‘catcher’ position.

Rose is up to bat first, Jasper and Carlisle on her team while Emmett, Edward, and Alice make up the opposition. The latter taking up her place at the pitcher’s mound - she nods her head and announces, “It’s time.”

First pitch from Alice and Rose absolutely smashes it, the thunder cracking in time with the strike of the bat.

“Okay, now I see why you need the thunder.” Bella says, impressed. “That’s gotta be a home run, right?”

Rosalie rounds second and heads for third, a blonde blur on the field. “Edward is fast.” Esme tells her with confidence.

Right when I think there’s no possible way Edward could get his sister out before she slides home, a baseball rockets it’s way out of the woods and straight into Esme’s hands. Tagging her adoptive daughter with the ball, she looks over her shoulder at us for confirmation.

“You’re out!” Bella motions a thumb over her shoulder at a very not happy Rose.

I turn to look at Jasper, completely blown away by what transpired, but I’m distracted in the way he idly spins his baseball bat. My emotions must catch his attention, because he doesn’t stop as he makes eye contact. Who knew something so basic as flipping a bat could be so attractive?

“Babe, c’mon! It’s just a game!” Emmett yells from across the field, garnering my attention from his brother.

Rosalie brushes past Bella to intimidate her umpire call as Carlisle takes his place at home plate. Another beautiful pitch by Alice and powerful swing by the doctor, the ball heads straight for the middle ground between the two brothers in the outfield. Colliding together, they miss the ball and their dad claims second base.

Next up is Jasper and I’m positively vibrating with excitement to see him in action. Showing off again with his idle bat tossing, he settles in and sends Alice’s next ball into orbit, but Emmett manages to snag it out of thin air.

“My monkey man.” Rose says proudly from her spot next to me, I huff in aggravation at Jasper getting out so early.

Just as Rosalie takes her second turn and is running for first base, Alice yells out a warning, “Stop!”

After a few seconds and hearing something that clearly Bella and I fail to pick up with our human ears, the family not gathered around us returns to our sides in a hurry.

“They were leaving and then they heard us-“

“Let’s go.” Edward cuts off Alice to grab for Bella, but Carlisle stops his son.

“It’s too late.”

Jasper is at my side as the rest of his family shuffled around us, “What’s happening?” I ask him worriedly.

“Vampires, they heard us playing and are on their way here.” He answers me completely serious, zipping up his jacket that I’m wearing. “Stay behind me, don’t move and don’t attract their attention.”

“Jas-“

“No one touches you.” He meets my eyes as his words send ice through my veins, will it come to that?

I will my heart to calm as I get shuffled to stand behind him and Emmett, I rest a hand on Jasper’s back to anchor myself.

I can’t see them from my hiding spot, but I hear one with a slight accent, “I believe this belongs to you?”

“Thank you.” Carlisle replies curtly.

“I am Laraunt, this is Victoria and James.”

“I’m Carlisle, this is my family.” I feel Jasper tense under my hand like he’s concentrating. Readying for a fight? What do I do if this turns into a vampire brawl?

I turn to look at Edward over my shoulder but he doesn’t meet my gaze and Bella has her head turned down. Hiding her eyes I realize - her human eyes, acting shy in the face of new vampires so that they might not be interested in her.

Carlisle and the one speaking for the group, Laraunt, continue their efficient conversation as I step closer to Jasper. From this position I can see all three strangers and fear begins to worm it’s way into my chest. I’ve become so comfortable with the Cullens’ that I’ve forgotten they’re vampires. Vampires as dangerous as the ones before me look, minus the red eyes.

The tall one missing a shirt, James presumably since Laraunt and Carlisle are still conversing, seems to lock in on Bella and Edward. The grip I have on Jasper tightens and he reaches a hand back to pat the outside of my thigh in reassurance at his earlier statement.

“So, could you use three more players?” My heart almost stops, how do we get out of this? “Come on, just one game?”

Seemingly reading my mind, Carlisle plays along with a little chuckle, “Sure, why not. A few of us were leaving, you could take their place.” I feel Jasper’s arm nudge me in the direction of Edward and Bella, a sign to join their departure.

“We’ll bat first.” Carlisle announces, throwing the ball to the newcomers as our group begins to separate.

“I’m the one with the wicked curve ball.” The female, Victoria taunts in a low voice.

Jasper let’s out a low laugh, “Well I think we can handle that.”

As everyone begins to take their new places and I make my way towards Bella, I notice that one of the new males seems zoned-in on Edward, or rather, Bella. Next thing I know, a breeze shifts Bella’s hair and my heart shudders in my chest - the wind, our scent-

“You brought a snack?” James threatens as he leans into a crouch. Snapping his gaze to me as I let out a gasp, “Two snacks?”

Jasper let’s out a deep growl as he lunges in front of me, the rest of his family surrounding Bella and I in a protective stance.

“The girls are with us.” Carlisle asserts, “I think it best if you leave.”

“I can see the game is over, we’ll go now.” The one in charge tries to placate the tense situation. “James.”

As the new vampires turn to leave, Carlisle urges Edward and Jasper, “Get Bella and Y/n out of here, go!”

The four of us jog back to Emmett’s Jeep, Jasper keeping me from stumbling in the mud.

“Okay I’ve got it-I’ve got it, I’m alright!” Bella yells at Edward while he tries to buckle her in. “What, n-now he’s coming after me? Us?”

“Listen to me-James is a tracker, the hunt is his obsession. I read his mind, our reaction on the field set him off. We just made this his most exciting game ever, he’s never going to stop.” Edward explains, frantic in his words and his driving.

“So what do we do?” Bella panics.

“We kill him-“ Jasper starts.

“Rip him apart and burn the pieces.” Edward finishes.

“Where are we going?”

“Away from Forks. We’ll get a ferry to Vancouver.”

“I have to go home, now. You have to take me home.” Bella orders him.

“You can’t go home, he’s just going to trace your scent there-it’s the first place he’s going to look.”

My chest constricts, my mom. Jasper grabs my hand, no doubt feeling my growing fear. “My mom.” I whisper to him as his eyes bounce between mine searching for what to say.

“My dad is there!-“

“It doesn’t matter!”

“Yes it does! He could get killed because of us! What about Y/n’s mom?!”

“Just let me get you out of here first, alright? Neither one of you are safe.”

“It’s my dad, we have to go back!” She argues back, exasperated. “We’ll figure out a way to lead the tracker away somehow-I don’t know, but we have to do something!”

“Jasper, you have to take me home.” I plead with him while squeezing his hand.

“Darlin’, I-“

“I’ll go anywhere you want me to, I just need to make sure she’s okay! If I disappear, she’ll hunt me down.” I try to reason with him, short of panicking myself.

Pulling up at Bella’s house, both her and Edward leap out of their seats and for the door. Just as Bella slams the front door in his face putting on a show, Jasper hops in the driver’s seat and peels out of the driveway in the direction of my house.

“You go inside, make up a reason to leave tonight. I’ll wait in the car, but if you aren’t out in five minutes, I’m coming in to get you.” He orders me and I nod.

“Thank you, I can’t leave her without saying anything… Thank you, Jasper.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m taking you far from here until this is settled.” His voice steady even though my life is turning upside down as we speak.

As the large vehicle rumbles to a stop just in front of my porch, I leap from my seat. The light above the door flicking on, my mother swings it open before my fingers could grab the handle.

“Everything alri-“

“No, mom.” I brush past her to ascend the stairs. “Bella is leaving for her mom’s tonight, I need to go with her!”

“Sweetheart, it’s too late for a drive like that!” She says, chasing me.

“She can’t drive by herself, she needs me mom! I can make sure she’s safe and keep you updated.” I plead with her as I throw random articles of clothing in my empty gym bag.

“Y/n, you can’t-“

“Mom,” I turn to her, dead serious, “I’m going whether you let me or not. She’s my best friend and she needs to leave. I can at least make sure she’s okay and gets to her mom’s. I’ll turn around and come right back afterwards!”

“Your phone stays on and charged.” She says with her hands on her hips, “I call, you better answer after the first ring. Anything - and I mean anything happens, you call me and Chief Swan immediately, Y/n Y/m/n.”

“Yes ma’am.” I snatch my bag and give her a hug as I rush out of my room. “I love you.” I murmur into her shoulder.

“You’re my world, sweetheart. Please be careful?” I nod, “I love you too.”

After a peck to my head, I race down the stairs and back out to the Jeep.

“It’s going to be alright.” Jasper tries to soothe me, both with his words and an artificial wave of calm.

“Don’t.” I bristle, “Nothing about this is alright.”

Immediately the foreign feeling vacates me and a coldness slides into my chest. I know he was only trying to help me, but I can’t take it, I can’t take the easy way out right now. So I glance out my window as the trees rush past on our way to his house.

• March 13th, 2005 • Cullen Residence •

Jasper

This day-this whole thing is fucked. And not at all how I saw this weekend going. I promised her mother I would keep her safe and now a fucking group of nomadic vampires is hunting her and Isabella.

Three vampires aren’t really much when it comes to my family of seven, but seeing as I’m the only one trained to… deal with the dispatching of vampires besides Carlisle, the odds aren’t great that we all come out of this unscathed.

And Y/n. This fragile human that already means so much to me is caught in the middle, caught up in my dangerous world. I told her that nothing and no one touches her and I meant it. If I can be sure of one thing, I know I can do this for her.

Slamming on the breaks as the Jeep slides into the garage, I grab Y/n’s hand as she meets me behind the vehicle. I tried to soothe her worry after we left her house, but I obeyed her request to stop. I almost feel useless - not being allowed to do what I do best and fix emotions, but I know her sense of autonomy shouldn’t be infringed upon if I want her to let me in. I slam the button to shut the garage door to shield us from potential prying eyes and make my way across the enclosed space.

“What now?” Y/n asks me as I throw her bag in the trunk of Carlisle’s Mercedes.

“I stay with you, no matter what. You and Isabella, I can protect the both of you.” I turn and meet her gaze, resting a hand on her cheek in reassurance. “You are mine to protect and I take that charge very seriously.” My words snatch her breath, so I give her a half-smile.

“After… everything, you’re not opposed to violence, Hale?”

“For you? Violence is my middle name, darlin’.” Before I could comment on the shudder the wracks through her and the arousal trickling into her scent and emotions, my family rejoins us in the garage.

Snatching the keys to the Mercedes Emmett tosses my way, I seperate myself from Y/n.

“I’ve had to fight our kind before,” I hesitate choosing my words, glancing at Y/n, “We’re not easy to kill.”

“But not impossible.” My brother responds.

“I don’t relish the thought of killing another creature, even a sadistic one like James.” Carlisle laments.

“What if he kills one of us first?” Rose questions harshly from her seat on the counter.

“I’m going to run Bella south and lead the tracker away from here-“ but Carlisle stops Edward before he could finish.

“No, Edward. James knows you’d never leave Bella. He’ll follow you.” My adoptive father glances at me, “Jasper-“

“I’m not leaving her.” I level my gaze on Carlisle and boost my words with my power, “None of you are trained like me, I stay with what he wants - the girls.”

“I’ll go with them, Jasper and I will drive them south.” Alice pipes up, “I’ll keep her safe, Edward.”

“Can you keep your thoughts to yourself?” I can feel Alice’s hesitation in what I feel is her confidence in the outcome of all this.

I will that emotion away immediately, nothing will hinder a positive outcome in this scenario. Y/n and Isabella will make it through this unscathed and James will die, end of story. Nothing threatens what’s mine or my family’s and lives, nothing.

Next

[skythighs]

Calista's Dream

Hi there, this is my first ever attempt at writing and posting anything on Tumblr. I won't lie it's a bit intimidating. However, I decided to give it a try. I love Feyd so much that I was compelled to go for it. This will be a series. I'm not sure how long yet. I wont be following the Dune storyline fyi. This part is in 3rd person but the rest will not be done this way, it just happened and I couldn't stop it lol.All of pictures from my collage are from pintrest and I don't claim them as my own I just put them together for a little vibe.

word count:1.9k

Introduction

10175 AG

“A girl! Your Grace, a healthy baby girl.” called Dr Yueh.

The rolling thunder was all the louder in the silent room. The Red Duke found himself confused, disappointed and yet joyous. He had begged Jessica for a son and yet here he stood father to a daughter. Jessica watched him closely from the birthing bed. She was covered in sweat and utterly relieved her duty was done. 

“Come name your daughter Your Grace.” Said Lady Jessica calmly.

Duke Leto walked across the room slowly and gracefully as if he didn't feel the floor falling out from under his feet. Jessica held the girl snuggly against her chest. The babe was resting peacefully; she hadn't even cried as she made her way into the world. 

“Is she well?” Inquired Duke Leto hesitantly. 

“She is quite healthy. Small but strong.” Answered the doctor. 

Jessica passed the child into his arms. Only once wrapped securely in his arms did she open her big gray eyes. His heart skipped a beat and he was overwhelmed with unconditional love for his daughter. Although she isn’t the son he asked for, she was perfect. His perfect daughter and he would cherish her until his dying day.

“Calista. Calista Atreides.”

“A lovely name.” Said Lady Jessica, smiling to herself.

“It means most beautiful, because she surely is the most beautiful thing i've ever seen. Thank you Jessica, for giving me more than I could have imagined.”

Calista Atreides came with one of the biggest storms in Caladan’s history and much like a storm she was the calm that inevitably followed. 

Leto happily announced her birth and named her his heir leaving many shocked at his decision. He could still have sons even if Lady Jessica wasn’t willing to give them to him, but he was content. Now that he had Calista he didn’t want anything. She was enough, she was a part of him and he was proud. His love for Jessica grew tenfold knowing that she had given him such a gift. 

Thufir Hawat was adamant the Duke reconsider naming his daughter as heir to House Atreides. He came up with endless possibilities of such a thing ending catastrophically whenever he tried to calculate a better outcome none came forward. 

“My Duke, she could be taken away and trained by the Bene Gesserit. She would not be a true Atreides then. She would be one of them.”

Leto considered this and simply informed Thufir his beloved daughter would never be taken from Caladan while there was breath in his body.

By 10185 The Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam arrived on Caladan unannounced no less stating urgent business for Lady Jessica in the middle of the night. The Reverend mother wanted to lay eyes on the girl herself. For she could barely accept that Jessica defied her most beloved Duke.

After formalities and respects were paid. Gaius demanded to be brought to Calista Atreides.

Lady Jessica led her through the corridors silently. Neither of them spoke for they both knew the true meaning of this visit. This mere girl would bring forth the Kwisatz Haderach, and she must undergo proper training despite the Duke's wishes to keep her home.They reached the girls chambers and Jessica opened the door as quietly as possible. However when they looked upon her the child was not asleep. She was looking right at them from the comfort of her many blankets and pillows.

“Cali, there is someone you must meet.” Lady Jessica coaxed her from under the mountain of blankets.

Calista sat up and looked at the Reverend mother in the doorway. She felt a strong dislike for the old croon right away. Feeling such a strong aversion to the woman she tensed once she saw her step over the threshold into her bedroom. 

“You look like a viper ready to strike, child. Why?” Asked the old woman her crows feet deepening.

Cali looked at her mother with a question in her innocent brown eyes. Eyes that were once gray like Letos.

“Speak freely Calista. Lies will do you no justice here.”

“I saw you once before, in a dream..in a nightmare.”

Mohiam lifted her head, not surprised by the revelation.

“And what happened in this nightmare?”

“I only remember the start and the finish of the nightmare. You take me away from my home, from my father.”

Jessica stroked her daughter's thick wavy hair. Hair as black as Leto's own.

“What else?” prompted Jessica.

“I die. I die before my time.”

A deafening silence fell upon the three of them.

“How do you die?”

“Bloody and split open, before my child can take his first breath, before he can live.”

Jessica gasps. Calista never mentioned any such dream to her. She saw the boy, the Kwisatz Haderach, the one she was made to bring forth into the world. The poor girl was only ten years old, and yet she knew she would die in childbirth if taken by the sisterhood. 

“And this all stemmed from you being given formal training by the sisterhood? How do I know this isn’t some ploy for you to stay on Caladan.”

“Lies would do no justice here Reverend mother. If what I said was untrue you would know.”

The finality in the statement of a mere child felt too confounding, too absolute. At only ten years old, a babe to this infinite existence of time and space this child carried an air of understanding. 

The truth of the matter was Gaius Helen Mohiam intended on taking Calista this very night to begin training as a Bene Gesserit sister. At ten years old, she had already spent too much time with her parents on caladan when normally she would have been taken during infancy to assure the best outcome of her purpose. However, this was different. She was the Duke's heir, and she was the mother of the Messiah, and somehow, leaving Caladan this night would assure her doom and that of their long-awaited plans. Not only would she die in childbirth, but so would her son. 

“You may stay here child, your mother will train you herself, but you must know you will leave Caladan one day never to return.”

“My mother told me you can’t see the future.”

Ah, there it was the Atreides defiance. Mohiam thought and with that she returned to her no ship leaving Calista tucked away safely in her bed. Her training wasn’t worth the life of all that they had waited for. Jessica was skilled enough to train her here from the comfort of Caladan, it would do.

Calista Atreides was her father's daughter. She was much more Leto than Jessica in every way that counted. She was born an Atreides, and perhaps she would die that way too, but one thing was certain she would never be a part of the sisterhood.

That very same week Leto informed Gurney to begin training Cali in combat. Ten years old was plenty old enough to learn self defense.

“Okay little duchess I want you to mimic my movements as best you can. Like this. “ he demonstrated some simple stances and movements for her to follow. She did so with ease.

“Excellent form Cali, you're a natural. Now I want you to use the movements I've shown you and strike me here.”  he pointed to his padded chest. Small but mighty indeed she fought with everything she had. He didn't even have to coax it out of her. 

“Your father will be very proud to hear of your progress Cali.”

“When will we use swords Gurney?” He smiled at that and the large scar on his face rippled.

“One thing at a time little lady. One thing at a time.”

As the years went on Calista mastered hand to hand combat as well as sword fighting which was led by Duncan Idaho. The discipline needed for sword fighting didn't come as naturally as hand to hand but with time and practice she got there. Her small stature allowed her to move quickly and efficiently. Striking fast and moving away from danger was her usual tactic. 

Over the years she did train with her mother Lady Jessica in the arts of the sisterhood however her heart was not in it as it was with her combat training. Along with combat and Bene Gesserit skills she was taught history, linguistics, and politics at an extensive level. 

When she was just thirteen her father received an order from Emperor Shaddam IV stating she was to be betrothed to Feyd Fautha Harkonnen, the Na Baron of Giedi Prime. He was just one year her senior and already quite the capable Harkonnen if the rumors were to be believed. He was vicious for one so young and Leto feared what would become of his precious Calista. A knock on his study door broke him from his deep thoughts.

“Father, can I come in?”

“Come in Cali, there's something I want to discuss with you.”

His dark haired dark eyed daughter walked to him still in her training clothes. She was still small for her age but her eyes held a wisdom he could never understand. 

“I’ve just received word on your betrothal from the Emperor himself. You are to wed Feyd Rautha Harkonnen on your twentieth birthday. In just six short years I will have to part with you- only for a time.”

“Feyd Rautha. I’ve heard of him, he is my age ,and the Barons chosen heir over his elder brother Glossu Rabban.”

“Yes my darling girl. You are very well informed on these matters it seems.” He pulled her to his armrest so she could sit with him.

She put her small hand on his cheek.

“You look very troubled by this news father. Why?”

“The Emperor forcing my hand in this makes it feel as though you’re a sacrificial lamb being led to slaughter.”

He squints his eyes as he looks at her. He wasn’t sure why he said such a thing to his own daughter but he couldn’t help being truthful at this moment, he would never lie to himself so he would grant her the same courtesy.

“I am no lamb, father. I am you. Feyd Rautha Harkonnen will have no choice but to treat me according to my station. I am a Duke's heir in my own right. I am your heir, your beloved Calista. Do not fear, fear is the mind killer.”

He smiled hearing her mirror her mothers words.

“You are me. I would like to increase your combat training. You’ve made incredible progress these last few years, but when you leave the comfort of your home I want to be certain no matter what the Harkonnen intend, you can hold your own.”

“Size doesn’t matter, skill matters, heart matters. Any man that mistakes me for a lamb will pay with his life.”

“Now you sound like Gurney.”

He kissed his daughter's forehead and sent her on her way. He had to send his reply to the Emperor. He would accept the betrothal with conditions of course. Feyd Rautha would court her properly and he would meet her family face to face on her home planet a month before the wedding. It was not much, but at least it was something.

[pjsk-hot-takes]

To add onto Anons before me I’ve noticed that whenever misogyny is brought up in the PJSK fandom the people talking about it always specifically refer to L/N, MMJ and even N25. Which.

Actually I think we should talk about Emu Nene An and Kohane more. They face SO much misogyny. Constantly. And nobody even mentions them in discussions about misogyny BECAUSE of said misogyny. Literally every single time an Emunene or Anhane song comes out people call it bad or say it should’ve gone to someone else. Every time. Without fail. It gets ignored at best outright hated at worst.

Ok so thought experiment time. Name a popular Emunene or Anhane song that’s as beloved or gets as much attention as Aun no Beats and Fixer.

If you couldn’t name one - that isn’t even because they don’t have bangers people just don’t like women unless they’re standing right next to men. Anhane alone has Imperial Girl and Odo and Pheles and Love is War and the Night Sky Patrol of Tomorrow and Butterfly on your Right Shoulder archives and you’re telling me that none of those are “good enough”????? Idk I think that’s just bias. Ruikasa and Akitoya songs have gotten popular with worse. Anhane and Emunene could drop the most jaw dropping gorgeous songs ever and not a single person would care and I firmly believe and will stand by that statement.

This isn’t even getting into how they’re treated in group covers!!!!!! Everybody ignores or hates on them!!!! If people feel like they got even slightly more lines than Ruikasa or Akitoya, even in their *own focus songs* (cough forward cough) they get so upset. And yet when Anhane and Emunene get the EXACT same treatment in Ruikasa or Akitoya songs nobody says a single thing!!!

And that’s not just speculation I KNOW that’s the case I can literally prove it. An has three total solo lines in the entirety of blender. That’s the exact same amount of solo lines as Toya gets in Ready Steady. They pretty much have the exact same amount of duet lines as well. In both songs. But Ready Steady is infamous and hated for it whereas blender nobody has even pointed this out and it’s universally beloved. It’s not even just a “blender is a focus song” thing because this happened with Forward too. It’s just misogyny.

I’ve seen people complain about Daybreak Frontline. Because and I quote “I hate it when the girls get most of the lines”. I can’t even go into any of the Nene or Emu tags without filtering every single Tsukasa and Rui tag first and even then finding any sort of content is almost impossible I think that’s a problem.

People will call Kohane “just a girl” despite the fact that she has a solid character arc and a personality and development. You can think she’s boring or not for you but????????? Don’t call her “just a girl”????? Esp not when she has social difficulties that are intentionally supposed to be relatable to the audience. A lot of people might actually relate to her character and journey even if they don’t necessarily like her. Idk leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

An has it only SLIGHTLY better because there’s a niche little fanbase for her and she’s somewhat popular (in the western fanbase. I think Kohane is more popular in Japan iirc.) but she still gets treated as an accessory to Akito and Toya just like Kohane. Also people keep trying to be weird and frame her as abusive or toxic which. Considering that possibility isn’t like a bad thing but people are just straight up reaching to try to prove stuff that either isn’t implied at any point or is outright refuted in the text just to villainize her??? Which is weird??? Especially because these people will turn around and defend Rui and Akito. Like. What did she ever do to you….. you’re willing to defend Rui who has canonically put people in mortal danger because teehee autism (I am autistic FYI I still think that’s a really stupid thing to use as justification especially if he’s aware it’s dangerous????) but An. Just existing with her fear of abandonment was too much??????

I could go ON and on and on there are so many examples….. help me……… help me anons…..

It’s not even that liking Akito and Toya or Rui and Tsukasa is inherently bad!!!!! But the favoritism as a whole is…….. something. Especially when it turns into hating the fem characters.

Also Mizuki suffers this too with Rui as another anon mentioned and it’s like. Really guys. Like first off it’s not about him it’s about Mizuki and if you’re gonna involve anyone else it should be the Nightcord girlies. Second off It’s a double whammy because people will bring up Rui but make no mention of An despite the fact that An is the one who’s canonically defended Mizuki from transphobes. Like. Why only Rui.

(I tried to word this as neutrally as possible I hope it didn’t come off as too aggressive ausuxuvhxhgxhgshg…. Anyways….. introspection and growth is good and cool actually…. Also I’m using Anhane and Emunene and Akitoya and Ruikasa for ease of use not as like a ship thing just to clarify it’s just tiring typing out each name individually)

.

[earlgreytea68]

I am reading the Emily Wilson translation of The Iliad right now. I read her translation of The Odyssey earlier this year and I'm sure the translation is fantastic, but I was really fascinated by how strongly I disliked the story. Fascinated because I'd read it several times through high school and college and I never remember disliking it as much as I liked it as a grown-up.

So I decided to re-read The Iliad just to see. I've read this one before, too, but I think I only read it once. I don't have a very strong memory of it. I'm almost halfway through and here are my thoughts on The Iliad:

This story is basically just endless descriptions of battles in great, gory details. Here is how this one died, and this one, and this one. There are so many battles and so many people dying, I don't really understand what happened for the nine years leading up to this story. Like, did they just sit around staring at each other and then finally decide to fight?

The fighting is so fascinating to me. It's clearly so up-close and personal because there are no guns and so everyone's right on top of each other and have to look each other in the eye as they cut off each other's heads and stuff, and you would think that these people must be cold as ice to be doing this stuff. But then there'll be a random scene where one Greek is about to kill one Trojan and is like, "Hang on, don't I know you?" and they realize their dads were friends and they used to play together and they're like, "Ha! We won't kill each other! We'll hang out when this war is over!" And they shake hands and then...go off and start violently killing other people instead. It's like ?????

The explanation is that the gods make them hunger for war more than anything else, just fyi.

The striking thing about both of these epics is how the Greek theory of the gods erases all concept of personal responsibility. Whenever people behave atrociously, everyone around them literally says things like, "I don't blame you. I blame the evil god that is possessing you right now." On the one hand, this theory makes sense in a world that was clearly so utterly bewildering that they couldn't explain beyond just hand-waving, like, those wild gods of ours, you never know what they're doing! But on the other hand, it's so frustrating that nobody is ever held responsible for any behavior.

None of the characters are likable, not one, in either of these stories. I have hated all of them. I think it's interesting how the idea of a sympathetic character doesn't seem to truly exist at the time these epics were being written, or rather their idea of what made a character sympathetic is very different from the modern idea. Like, I'm sure Odysseus is *supposed* to be someone we root for...but he's a jerk lol. And in The Iliad, I literally hate everyone on both the Greek and Trojan sides. Like, occasionally one of them does something not terrible, but then they go right back to being jerks right after that. I would love that to be a story choice, that you're not rooting for either side to win and you're okay with all these people just wiping each other out, but I think I'm supposed to be on the side of the Greeks. They're just all pretty unbearable people, so I'm not.

The best character so far in the whole thing is Paris hahahaha. He should be the arch-villain of them all, and it's not that I actually like him, but he's at least got some flair to him! I respect him! Like, there's this great scene where everybody's fighting and Hector realizes that Paris is just hanging out at home with Helen, and Hector is like, "Buddy, YOU ARE THE ENTIRE REASON WE ARE AT WAR, BECAUSE YOU KIDNAPPED THIS WOMAN, DO YOU THINK YOU SHOULD GO AND FIGHT????" and Paris is so chill, like, Moi? Fight? You should have said something! I guess I can go out there! And then there's this other great part where he randomly shows up in the middle of the battle to, like, shoot an arrow through this other guy's foot????? Just because he's just that cool in battle???? hahaha he's described as leaning up against a column and he just kind of says, like, "Hey. Diomedes. Little baby. Gonna shoot your foot," and shoots his food, and it's the coolest thing anyone's done in the whole epic hahahaha. And then Diomedes is furious and says that Paris has "stupid hair" hahahah WHAT???? Meanwhile other people are chopping off each other's arms and these two are sniping at each other like this???? I don't even understand this war lol

I don't get Helen and I get that it's because the original Greek writers didn't care what Helen thought about any of this because she doesn't have any agency (although to be fair none of them have agency because only the gods have agency) but, like, I genuinely can't figure out if she wants the Greeks or Trojans to win. Maybe she just wants everyone to die. Me, too, Helen.

I love that Emily Wilson describes Achilles as basically sobbing his heart out because Agamemnon stole his enslaved woman from him. Like, I just enjoy that the Greek concept of masculinity allowed Achilles to sob it out and nobody called him unmanly.

That said, Agamemnon is a huge jerk and I'm annoyed by all the Greeks telling Achilles to get over Agamemnon's insult. Achilles wants to take his ship and go home and the Greeks are like, FOR SHAME. No, this is truly the only sensible thing to do. They should all take their ships and go home. But Agamemnon being like, "I will send Odysseus to apologize to Achilles for me," and Achilles is like, "I do not accept this apology," and the Greeks are like, "That Achilles! He's so stubborn!" Like, Agamemnon can't even be bothered to go apologize in person! It's continued insult afa I am concerned! (I probably don't understand the subtle interactions of Greek society lol)

I enjoy how they're always sacrificing to the gods but the sacrificing involves...them partying and feasting. I think I thought sacrificing meant they killed the bull and left it for the gods, but instead they kill the bull for the gods but then they eat the bull and have a big party. Sacrificing seems like just an excuse for a party, it turns out.

There's this part where Zeus is like, "Hey, if anyone interferes with the humans fighting their little war down there, I will smite you and throw you down into torment and punishment forever, don't think I won't." And Athena is like, "You're a big meanie," and so Zeus is like, "Ha ha, just kidding, love you, kiddo." I was like, .......everything in this society is severely dysfunctional.

So I wouldn't say I am exactly enjoying reading it lol, but I feel like I am learning a lot about ancient Greece and what they valued and found interesting and admired and how that differs from me in my twenty-first century world.

[talisidekick]

hii sorry to be annoying but i have a question to ask

i thought i would come to somebody i followed who seemed like they would be knowledgeable in what i'm asking

i'm a cis guy but i've been talking and reading and thinking recently and i've been informed that a semi-present wish to not be associated with gender and a consistent hatred of my body isn't... normal? like i always kind of assumed it was just a standard like "oh its just life kind of thing" but i've had the news broken to me that they could be signs of gender dysphoria so

i'm just wondering if you would happen to have any tips for somebody who is questioning their gender?

i've never really considered thinking about this properly and i'm just kind of seeking information to kind of help me

thanks so much

I can absolutely help here, because what you're going through is a lot like what happened to me.

First things first: don't worry about the labels. Transgender, Cisgender, Gay, Straight, take those labels and put them off to the side. Your focus is on finding what makes you happiest. The labels are there for you to help explain to others who you are as best as possible.

For example: I say I'm a lesbian transgender woman.

But if we're dropping the labels: I'm a human being who is romantically attracted to women, sexually attracted to most women, enbies, and some men, and identifies with womanhood and prefers a mix of feminine and gothic/punk presentation.

Take time to find out who you are. The labels come after, and they're rough guides for a quick explanation.

With that in mind, start here:

See how much of this resonates with you, and think on how it resonates with you. You could identify with all of it, some of it, or none of it.

And lastly: ignore the bigots. They're going to lie to you. This journey is about you and where you stand. How you like to present.

Autogynophelia or AGP isn't real. Cis women get sexually aroused too when they think of themselves in sexy clothing or doing the deed. Not all, but at the same rates as transgender women.

If you try on womens clothing and you get aroused, and embarrassed, that's normal. That's Gender Euphoria. It is an extremely powerful emotion, especially if you haven't been feeling a lot of it for most of your life.

If any part of this makes you feel disgust, take a step back and try to identify it:

Is this about what I'm wearing?

Is this about my body?

Is this about my face?

What else am I seeing that's causing this?

Whatever you do, don't just feel disgust and turn away. Take a second to identify exactly what causes that feeling and then ask yourself "why?". Maybe you have a bias, or a past experience thats making you feel uneasy. You deserve to understand why you feel the way you do. It will help you understand what is or isn't right for you.

And the last bit of advice I have is to do as you're doing now. Find trans women, enbies, and trans men, and ask about their experiences (and be sure to mention you're questioning your gender as some of the questions you may come to ask will be similar to what bigots ask in rudeness. The difference is you're asking to learn to be less ignorant, they're asking to be ignorant. Context will change who the question is recieved.) And if you want, make a dummy twitch account, and come by my streams. Feel free to ask questions there, I'm more than happy to help explain things and give advice live. I also have a few transgender viewers, trans women, enbies, and trans men, who I know would be willing to help you through your gender discovery. Whether you end up staying cisgender, or being something else moving forward, this process is about discovering how to live a happier life as yourself.

Please take care of yourself, and please don't hesitate to ask if you have any further questions. I'm sure many of my followers, and viewers of this post will have more to say to help aswell.

[rallentando1011]

Waddup!! Can I have a one where the turtles have a s/o with verbal Tourette’s tics that are just… hella rude. Like, I literally yell “Shut the fuck up, baldy” as one of my tics. 😭😭 Just rude things they don’t mean.

Thanks for the request! I've been working through 'em and having a fun time! (Guidelines are HERE btw)Just fyi, this is based on my personal experience and research. Please let me know if I have any inaccuracies or if there’s anything useful to add!

ROTTMNT Boys W/ Reader with Verbal Tics

Donnie:

Donnie stares

Not judgmentally, not emotionally at all for that matter, he just stares

Consider it his waiting period for his central processing unit to catch up

After a brief moment of registration, he nods and continues on with whatever conversation or demonstration or interaction was occurring before

Donnie directly lets you know that it is always okay for you to experience your tics

None of that trying-to-restrict-it-for-politeness’-sake business around here

When you feel uncomfortable or tense or just overall weird, he wants that you always feel comfortable to express whatever you need to in his presence

If you ever try to apologize for one of your tics, he bluntly asks, “What do you have to apologize for?”

He knows that it’s involuntary, that you have no genuine intention to say something flippant

He doesn’t expect an apology for that

Mikey:

Mikey immediately pales and pouts

That’s just his spontaneous reaction

His thought process is kind of just: Mean words? Mean words directed at me? They must mean it personally and I must be a terrible person and they must hate me and-

But then he realizes: Oh. Right.

And the bad thoughts stop flowing

If his reaction makes you think that he’s upset with you, he quickly assures you of the opposite

He didn’t mean to seem aghast

He was just surprised

So he reassures you that he would never, could never get mad at you for something out of your control

He loves all aspects of you and will always be your biggest supporter through anything and everything

Leo:

Leo’s pretty chill, pretty nonchalant about it

Normally he just moves along; that’s all one really can do

Sometimes, however, like if the tic occurs at a comically bad time, he laughs

Not just a normal giggle either

It’s the kind that one tries to stifle, but it bubbles up their throat and nose and actually ends up being significantly louder

Either that or he smirks

Although, if you feel like he’s poking fun at you, he fervently clarifies that he just found the timing funny, not you or your tics

He also apologizes profusely (if you’ve been looking for a favor from or leverage over him, now’s the time)

Leo feels slightly guilty if you happen to pick up a rude word or phrase from him

He also finds it objectively funny, only if you’re not upset by it, of course

Raph:

Raph instinctually mutters a “language” if he’s not paying much attention when he hears your tics

Pin it on his big-brotherly/motherly instincts

He hears a swear and/or vulgar language, he calls it out

After a moment of you just looking at him, he realizes his error

Quietly, Raph admits and says sorry for his mistake

Other times, he hears you and tilts his head, waiting for elaboration

His conversational awareness, at times, is shoddy, so he can use some help understanding whether or not you intended to say something or not

He’s not perturbed with you at all, no matter what you end up saying

He could never blame you for it, seeing as you have no volition in what your tics are, though he’ll do his best to educate himself on the topic, ask you about your triggers so he can avoid them, see if there’s anything he can do to help

Whatever you need, he’s got you

(side note: hey @nickelodeon #rottmnt is trending again/still)

[creations-by-chaosfay]

Just a small FYI.

I don't receive any money for sharing information about products or patterns or anything else I share here. None. I have no sponsors. What I share is shared because I feel y'all will benefit from it. Products, product reviews, active or upcoming sales, magazines, etc.

Why?

I don't have a large enough following, and I have no desire to paid to share these things. That sort of thing doesn't sit well with me, and hypocrisy is something I detest.

If you would like to be sponsor me, may I suggest you instead join up as one of my ko-fi members? It's like Patreon, but more user friendly. My lowest rank is just $5/month, and all of them come with goodies, like a postcard every month, random gifts, an automatic 15% discount for purchases and commissions, etc. You can join up here:

The highest rank is $1k, and I added that for the sake of adding it. The likelihood of anyone giving me $1k/month is at virtually 0%, but if it happens...well, I will cry. A lot.

I'll be sending out postcards this week. They just take a few days for me write out because writing by hand is difficult and painful, but my typewriter has been causing me pain due to the inflammation in my wrists and the awkward angle they have to sit at for this type of keyboard. It's an old model, from I think the 1930s. The typewriters from the 70s and 80s are much kinder, but I don't think I can fit a postcard through them. I haven't tried a 90s or later model.

Now, I'm gonna play Sims 4. My husband has D&D tonight, and it's best I occupy myself lest I go and bug everyone due to boredom. They're the only people I see on a regular basis, aside from my husband and doctors.

[graysnetwork]

TOO REAL?

Brothers bsf type of au for Keegan making write more.

I wrote this in like an hour so bare with me as this isn’t very long.

Info: fyi, just so you know this is just a little imagine for what’s happened in the past when Keegan goes out with girls. But this isn’t set after that last part basically. FEM READER

Warnings: none.

Summary: Keegan pulls up to your house as he rushes for a date

Here Keegan was pulling up to your house, making a bunch of noise as he shoved the keys in the lock of the front door. You walked down the stairs opening the door expecting someone else like your parents. But Keegan quickly ran up the stairs while saying “thanks”

You stood there confused before looking out the door seeing his car, a girl in the passenger seat waiting patiently. You put two and two together and figured he probably left something in the guest room or your brothers room.

The girl noticed you, turning to you and waving, you realized it was a girl from your school— Emily, she was a nice girl, always had a things for Keegan from what you knew. She wasn’t rude or annoying, she was sweet and pretty. All good reasons for Keegan to go out with her.

He ran down the stairs with a shoe box in hand and the pair of Jordan’s on his feet,

“I left my shoes here, sorry, I’m in a rush” he explained while stuffing his normal shoes in the box. “It’s fine, uh.. be nice to Emily” you told him. “yeah, I will don’t worry” he told you nodding as he walked out to the porch.

“she’s a sweet girl, don’t blow her off like your last girlfriend” you informed him, he stood there forgetting about the whole rush he was in.

“yeah.. I’ll be good, promise” he said as he turned around and walked down the steps of the porch.

“alright, hope you have fun” you said closing the door quietly. It never got easier seeing him go out with girls, first of all it was just weird,

second of all you wanted to be the girl to go out with him, you didn’t care if your brother would get pissed about it, you wanted to be the one going out getting dinner and getting a kiss goodbye from him.

You just wanted to be with him, but maybe it’d ruin everything for Keegan and your brother, maybe it’d ruin your friendship with Keegan, maybe it’d hurt your feelings. Keegan would be going off the university in a year so what’s the point of trying to go out with him.

Keegan stood there for a few second as he turned around to go back to you— he’d rather take you out. Have you all to himself, and be the only guy to ever kiss your lips.

He was met with the white door.

He walked down the steps and approached his car and got in, recklessly throwing it in the back seat. As he put the car in drive.

“That was y/n right?” Emily asked him, “yeah, yeah it was y/n” he said with a huff. Emily sat there quietly as she noticed his frustration, before she broke the silence.

Even though it did hurt to ask she did it anyways,

“Do you like her?”

“What?” Keegan said furrowing his brows, the “do you like her, you seem… agitated” she reiterated.

It sounded to real, saying that he liked you, it made it real. He wanted you, need you. But being truthful and saying it out loud would mess him up, probably make him more crazy for you. He would have to deny it his whole life if he never got to be with you romantically.

“No” he said sighing and placing a hand on Emily’s thigh “I don’t, plus we should be talking about you, no?” He lied. He did like you, he loved you. He can’t say it or else he’ll have to accept it for its reality.

She smiled unknowingly at his lie and started talking about other things, he tried to answer stuff she asked, and adding things in her conversation but how could he if he was thinking about the entire time?

—

Hope it’s good enough ☺️