#not every family dynamic needs to be so cut and dry like why does a found family have to be a father a son and a daughter

[saltyloafy]

even after telling trucy and apollo abt them being siblings and abt their mother I still feel like apollo would not see phoenix as a father figure and I don't think that he should. phoenix is a mentor for him, he already had a dad in dhurke even he's well,,, yeah,, and I feel like him and phoenix have too complicated of a dynamic to just boil it down to "you are my son now".

during phoenix's beanix era he projected a lot onto apollo to try to beat the naivete out of him that reminded him so much of how he used to be b4 he became horribly jaded. phoenix wanted to protect him from making the same mistakes as he did so he made him actively distrust him to teach him a lesson like "haha you can't even trust your heroes!" (the forged playing card)

anyway in summary I don't think apollo would just forget all of the effort that phoenix put into teaching him the "hard lessons" of the dark age of the law just bc he wants a 3rd father figure, yaknow. he dealt with so many daddy issues in kur'ain I think the boy deserves to have an adult man who is just like a weird uncle

[jellazticious]

not a lot of sheriff love in the world (for various reasons to be fair); i would love to hear more thoughts on stefanos family if you have them 👀 ?

I don't know how to tell you this...

As sweet as Sugary Spire is, the dynamic with Stefano and his dads are the polar opposite with Pascal and his dads

Also under the cut, it's me throwing shade at Sugary Spire

For one, 90% of the SS characters are so dry in canon that it's hard to tell what their characteristics would be. It's so ironic that Rosette has five times the appearances compared to Noisette and yet I do NOT know her fucking personality. Most the Sugary Spire stuff posted are generic TROPES cuz no one knows how to write them, the only person who makes SS art and make it interesting is Heinzlike

Pizzano is kinda the only character who has a decent foundation with his traits. But the rest?? You're on your own LMAO

Like I don't even know what Sheriff does of imma be honest and my bucko Beefy has trouble writing Joan (Jude) also because of that. Me and him are doing EXTENSIVE RESEARCH about what the devs themselves provided of Sheriff and Gumbob and like???? THERE IS NOTHING

And so far all we got was having Sheriff be a shitty parent cuz of how cold and distant he is. It's so ironic that he's supposed to be Pepperman in Vigi's role but has none of Pepperman's charm nor that hospitality Vigi has. Like Vigi may have a resting bitch face but we are still shown that he's got a kinder side. Sheriff however? He's just perpetually pissed on every sprite he has.

Candied apples will give birth and straight up walk away just like Doof's parents jsksndkdkd

Secondly, with that being said, yeah Stefano has a shitty kinda divorced family. His ass is a one night stand love child cuz Pizzano rizzed the fuck out of the Sheriff cuz he did not want a speeding ticket. (also btw, regular Pascal is also an accident, the more you know sksksksksk)

Pizzano pays for the child support 😭

I'm so sorry I can't take this seriously jsnsndnd Sugary Spire has zero writing despite the visuals being so fucking developed it's hilarious. Like I'm so sorry, I never got into SS because I thought it was so boring and I was right now that I've looked into it. How did they make Pizzelle so stale??? How do you manage that???

But yeah ultimately, Sheriff is hella cold at Stefano, maybe even disappointed when he reminds him of Pizzano but like, he still kinda cares? It's just so hard to deal with a kid who's just so impulsive and stupid but like, he'd still show up when Stefano is deep shit. The feeling is mutual on Stefano's side. He plays hero in a musketeer outfit because it's a reminder that he still looks up to Sheriff

Pizzano on the other hand, he acts Stefano more like a super fan than a son. Like yes he cares but not in the way you'd think. They're the same level dense and stupid but not that Stef minds it, he does enjoy spending time with his fun dad more. But again, not to discredit Pizzano's genuine love tho, he is just so shit at showing it and hella busy with uhhh whatever he's doing. Is he a showman like Noise??? I don't knowwwwwwww

But yeah in Stefano's adulthood, Sheriff kicked him out his house, Pizzano let's him bunk in his place and maybe hired him as a stage hand/prop maker so he can have a reason to have Stef stay.

He made his costume and his weapons but he's still a little shit that he just does not want to share his props. Most of them are fake but that sword is jery much real and metal

Lmao the only reason why I was able to write Stefano was because he's a lone wolf who does not need the influence of the other characters

Oh one last thing, Stefano's full name is not as long as Pascal's. The sole reason why it was that long to begin with was because of Pepperman. But since Sheriff did not have that same pop nor wanna deal with Stef, it was Pizzano who did the naming. He is also called Stefano because there is no "Pascallis" in the full name.

Paciano Stefano Royales Creampuff

[lysteriaposts]

OBX 3 TIER LIST

i wanted to make a review but um... it took me like a week to finish the whole thing.. which should say enough.. and honestly i don't really feel like rewatching the majority of the episodes lol. i'll just give my reasons for the tiers instead.

this is probably my most unpopular one yet.

the only emotional journeys i connected with this season was topper, rafe and pope.

cleo could've been there if they actually focused more on her as a person rather than being thrown into a relationship and having that be the focus of her arc, same with kiara. still, i find cleo / pope duo way more watchable than jj / kiara. and she is a nice character.

i actually wished we'd seen kiara be kidnapped half of the season at singh's so that, a) the reunion actually feels more earned b) her and rafe's scenes were gold and probably the most interesting things for her character this season c) we could learn more about the "new, evil villain" and his motives. instead he felt out of place.

as for singh, he could cut it with the "you knows" ....

topper and kiara delivered on the comedy this season though, which is one reason they placed higher.

CAN'T FORGET BARRY

jj's whole "i don't want to be loved" thing felt half assed and he didn't crack me up the way he did s1-2... the humor felt kind of cartoonish (crabs 🫥). i still don't like how they dumb him down to an actual caricature, it was endearing and believable in s1 but it's just gotten worse each season for cheap slapstick. it's not funny.

i wanted more conflict between him and pope and their friendship

i didn't need jj / kiara to be honest... had no relevance to what was going on, and felt very dry. like they were trying to churn out something that just isn't there, and i didn't recognise the characters either.

rafe just elevates any scene he's in and any character he's with. i give props to drew 'cause even though the writing feels more serious for his character than the others, it probably wouldn't come across as good as it does without a good enough actor. luckily enough he's been spared from most of the corniness on this show.

the john b/sarah/topper thing is repetitive but i'm glad we got to see a story where topper isn't villainised (in the show, just by the pogues). he saved sarah's life, yet gets used and discarded. she keeps making the same mistakes, and the john b/big john stuff was just atrocious. he suddenly trusts the dad who abandoned him for years over his ride or die friends? the gf who sacrificed everything for him?? yeah ok dude.

the complete absence of rose but wheezie especially is unrealistic as hell. i don't understand why new, annoying characters are introduced (limbray.... singh... jb's dad) when they don't amount to anything in the end and there is no investment in them. we could've seen so many good family relationships and dynamics, how does the completely overlooked youngest sibling view everything? actually an episode from her POV would've been hilarious and also insanely interesting.

as much as i prefer ward over jb's dad and liked him as a villain... he didn't play a big enough part in this season to keep (he is also irredeemable). i think they could've killed him off in s2. and rafe could've dealt with the aftermath of that this season instead of s4.

the treasure thing felt contrived and way too much for one season. i don't really get the pacing, they don't need to find something new each season they can take a break once in a while and have like every other season be more obx / character focused. and the rest plot. that way when they do find something it feels much greater! what they did over the course of these three seasons could've easily been stretched to six seasons with better writing and giving the story room to breathe, develop a lot of other things etc... instead of making up "blackbeard" 💀

there's much more to say, and a lot of issues with the production and more nitpicky faults, but these are probably my biggest issues with the story. in the end it was a very disjointed season, probably my least favorite so far.

[jackrrabbit]

open season thirsts [4/?] /// Iwaizumi x f!Reader (18+)

Request: Omg I love you Bodyguard!Iwaizumi x bratty daughter of a wealthy man? I love this trope because of the tension, brat taming, and dom!iwa

A/N: why do i keep making these drabbles long asf…gotta say though this concept hits 🥵

Tags/warnings: dom/sub, brat taming, power dynamics, teasing, impact play/spanking, coercion? but like barely idk, all characters are adults

did you really think he wasn’t going to notice you leaving?

listen, iwaizumi gets it. you’re a grown woman, it must be difficult to live like a sheltered little girl just because you’re the daughter of a diplomat. but iwa’s not getting paid to listen to your excuses—he’s getting paid to stop you from doing dumb shit like sneaking out at 1AM to see your stuck-up trust-fund friends. and if you were really as mature as you seem to think you are, you’d at least have the decency to look ashamed when he catches you.

“…oops.”

“is that all you have to say for yourself?” iwa’s leaning on the hood of your lexus lfa, holding the keys up for you to see. the car is one of the many many luxury toys your dad’s spoiled you with over the years. if iwa remembers correctly, this one was an 18th birthday present a few years ago, long before he started working for your family. you’ve bought more cars since (always financed on daddy’s centurion amex), but the lexus is your favorite. iwa knew you’d be taking this one out.

“so you caught me. whatever.” you roll your eyes and swipe a lock of salon-perfect hair behind your ear. “what, are you waiting for a medal or something?”

god, you’re irritating. iwa should be at home right now watching the news and microwaving his dinner, but no. he’s in the garage of a mansion that’s worth more than his entire ancestral line has made in their collective lifetimes, babysitting a rich girl who’s too full of herself to understand the meaning of the word rules. “your father made it clear that you need to stay on the property after curfew.”

“what does he think’s going to happen? i went out all the time before he got this stupid job.”

iwa folds his arms over his chest and glares at you. lesser people would flinch, but you don’t seem to care. “the ambassador has received threats, and he’s deemed it an unacceptable risk—“

“oh, come on,” you interrupt. “he’s not here, is he? just let me go, i won’t tell.”

“i have a job to do.” it’s like you’re trying to get on his nerves…come to think of it, you probably are. iwa can’t stand your type. you’re under the impression that you can just bat your eyelashes and flash the ysl wallet you keep daddy’s money in and get whatever you want. but it stops here. “do you remember what your father said he’d do the next time i caught you sneaking out?”

that gets a reaction. you pull back and look directly at iwa. “wait—no, he wouldn’t. dad wouldn’t actually cut me off.”

“i guess we’ll see.” iwa twirls the keys around his finger and the jingling echoes out through the oversized garage.

you blink, take a couple slow steps up to him so you’re almost chest to chest, then delicately lay your hand over his, tracing soft circles on his pulse point with your thumb. “come on, hey. you’re not actually going to tell him, are you?”

and there it is, the coquette act. you have it down to an art. it’s probably worked on every other bodyguard your father’s hired, and iwa wouldn’t blame them—it’s almost working on him too. you know exactly what you’re doing and so does he, but fuck—you look up at him through those thick, pretty lashes, bite your lip, and he tries to swallow but—his mouth feels dry all of a sudden.

“please…would you let me off just this once?” you sigh, sweeter than licorice.

goddamnit. iwa can’t keep himself from skimming over your body, lingering first on your bare legs under the little skirt you’re wearing and then your soft perky tits and then the glossy wet pink of your lips. you look like a model in a magazine ad for clothes he can’t afford. you look too perfect to be real, like jesus no one looks that perfect in real life but somehow you do. your perfume smells like some combination of a swedish spa and—something like honey. fuck. your gel nails are filed into short points that you’re dragging lightly over his palm, trying to reach…

…the key. obviously.

“rules exist for a reason,” iwa says in monotone, pulling the key away from you. “go back to bed. i’m going to talk to your father in the morning.”

a quick look of frustration passes over your features, and then you smooth it down and slip back into your seduction attempt, this time playing with the sleeve of his jacket. “oh, please. i’m sure there’s something i can do to convince you. don’t you want to help me out?”

do you have any idea what you’re saying?

because sure, iwa hates your type. spoiled little rich girl. if you were anyone else, he’d shut it down right here, go tell your father as promised, force you to hate him. but for some reason that doesn’t feel like the right move with you…

you’re really not that bad. you talk to him like a person most of the time, and you aren’t quite as air-headed as the brats he usually has to keep track of. you just need to get it into your head that when you misbehave, your actions are going to have consequences.

like, see, when you told iwa just now that you’d like to do something to convince him to go easy on you—when you tipped your head to the side like that and put your hand on his shoulder to stroke his bicep—he knows you weren’t thinking of the follow-through. you’re expecting him to be so thrown that he just caves, gives you your key, and keeps his mouth shut. you’re not actually thinking he’ll take you up on your offer.

“maybe there is something,” iwa hears himself saying. “if you really don’t want your father to know…it looks like i’ll have to teach you a lesson instead.”

for a second you think you heard him wrong. no way. iwaizumi didn’t—your bodyguard didn’t just insinuate—what? you run through a few alternatives in your head but nothing seems to make sense, so you figure he’s joking. only when you shift your weight to your other foot (damn it, these heels were not made to actually be stood in) and pause for him to crack a smile and take it back, he doesn’t. the disapproving look on his face stays firm.

so you laugh, all cold and haughty so he knows you’re pissed. “you’re kidding.”

“bend over,” iwa tells you in the same tone of voice he always uses when he orders you around.

your jaw drops. “oh my god—who the hell do you think you are?”

“bend over the hood right now, or get cut off. your choice,” he says flatly.

and maybe it’s because you still don’t quite believe that he’ll actually do anything, but you decide to go ahead and play the game of chicken until he caves. iwa’s been working for your dad for almost a year now, and you’ve never seen him lose that ultra-professional bodyguard aura. sure, you’ll bend over, but it’s not like he’ll actually touch you.

“fine,” you say, flipping your hair over your shoulder and carefully setting your bag down on the lexus’s roof. you shoot iwa a look—hey idiot, i’m playing along, how do you like that?—and then primly fold forward over the hood with your ass in the air. today was not a good day to wear the wool miniskirt that’s currently riding way up over your hips—iwa must have an excellent view of the thong you’re wearing stretched tight over your mound.

which he does.

and honestly, it’s affecting his judgement a little.

you adjust your position a little bit and it makes you wiggle. iwa looks at the playboy-quality upskirt shot in front of him and thinks that the only possible thing that could make your ass look better right now would be if his hand was on it. “did you ever get spanked when you were young?”

“corporal punishment? that’s barbaric,” you scoff.

“hm…it’s about time someone actually disciplined you.” no turning back now. iwa strokes a hand over the soft skin of your ass cheek and sees your muscles twitch in response. “unless you want your father to know you tried to sneak out again.”

there’s your out, but you’re not taking it. what can you say? part of you wants to see your straight-laced bodyguard actually do something naughty for once. besides… you look back at him standing behind you and see he shed his jacket to reveal the tight white undershirt he was wearing underneath, the tanned skin of his neck, the veins roping down his forearms.

so he’s actually stupid hot. go figure.

“whatever. are you going to spank me or not?” you ask him, doing your best to keep the anticipation out of your voice.

fuuuuck. iwa has to grit his teeth, close his eyes for a second. “we’ll start with ten. keep quiet, or i’ll start over,” he says, and then without waiting for your reaction, he raises a hand and gives your ass a nice firm slap. it’s nowhere near what he’d consider hard, but he still hears the muffled squeak of shock coming out of your mouth. you turn back to him, eyes burning, obviously ready to chew him out, but a second later you think better of it and hold your tongue.

good girl, iwaizumi thinks. you’re learning. “that’s one.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

heated, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: An (innocent?) conversation about D/s dynamics accidentally leads to you confessing that you think about your childhood best friend while getting off. To your childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Erm. This is after he told you that you would be “an awful sub”, btw.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, discussions about adult topics; reader is bisexual; smut (fem reader, dry humping, fingering, [tiny bit] m-receiving oral, penetrative sex); fluffy af; non-idol!AU; F2L; softdom!Jungkook x softbrat!reader; you kind of have a forearm kink and you never let Jungkook have his lovey-dovey moment, whoops

MMA 2020 ‘ON’ Jungkook? Yeah. That one.

--

“I could never be a sub.”

You clicked rapidly as you spoke, mashing the right button on your mouse. It was quite loud, paired with your mechanical keyboard.

“Why not?”

The music coming from Jeon Jungkook’s smartphone was a rhythm game, nearly as loud as you, since he was grunting angrily at it. It was very obvious when he missed a beat.

“I can’t imagine that being me, you know?”

You, on the other hand, were on your computer, playing with the new items in League of Legends from the latest patch. Using the practice tool, you had loaded up your favorite champion, Jhin, the Virtuoso, and messed with various builds, trying to find the best combination. So far, Lethality was feeling pretty good.

“Like why would I ever let my pleasure be handled by someone else?” you mused, reading the high damage numbers of each shot. Oh, the fourth shot felt nice. “That sounds stupid.”

Jungkook rolled over on your bed, growling in his throat as the level ended. He restarted it, trying to get a better score. “Maybe people like to let go sometimes. You know, not always be in control.”

You snorted. “I could never trust someone else with my body.”

“You got an alien body or something?”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

“Anyway,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your outburst. “I didn’t ask if you could be a sub, I just asked what you thought of domination and submission as a dynamic in general.”

You shrugged, trying to see if you could do Baron alone. Welp, you needed lifesteal, of course. “I mean, I’ve tried it in various situations. I was never the sub.”

“Kinky.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.” Jungkook suddenly sat up, excited that he achieved a higher score. “Look, look. I got ninety-eight.”

You craned your head to look at his phone screen. “Why isn’t it one hundred? You’re a disgrace to this family.”

He bopped you on the nose with his phone. “If I was part of your family, your family would be even more dysfunctional than it is now.”

You rubbed your nose and looked up at him. “How much gel did you use in your hair? You look like a wet dog.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows went up and he touched his long black hair. “It’s not crunchy though.” He grabbed your hand and lowered his head, placing your palm on his slicked back hair. “See?”

You pulled your hand back, staring at your palm. “Still feels weird though. I call sorcery.”

He shrugged, creaking the black leather jacket he was wearing. He wore a black t-shirt under it. The black jeans he had been wearing were on your bed, swapped for the black joggers he kept at your place. You weren’t really sure why he left the jacket on. Maybe he was cold or something. It was pretty cold in your apartment. You were wearing fleece green pajamas with Pikachu all over them.

“You want me to turn the heat up?” you said, gesturing to his jacket.

Jungkook looked down at his chest. “Eh. It’s fine. Saves you money.”

You shrugged, getting up from your chair, leaving the League client open. “You’re only staying a little while, right? Party to go to and all that?”

Jungkook followed you as you left your room. “Told you it was cancelled, so I was just going to sleep over. No reason to go back home.”

You turned around, walking backwards. “When did you say it was cancelled?”

Jungkook raised his dark eyebrows. “Literally when I walked in your apartment.”

“Hah.”

You turned back around and went to your fridge, grabbing an aloe juice. Jungkook went to your water kettle, hunting for hot chocolate among your tea packets.

“You’d make an awful sub anyway,” Jungkook said, returning to the original subject as he filled the kettle with water from your filtered sink faucet. “Like, probably the fucking worst.”

You took a large swig and glared at him. “Alright, first of all, you wouldn’t even–”

“You’re terrible with authority.”

You paused. “Okay, true.”

“You’re angry, twenty-four, seven.”

You walked up to him and slapped him in his very hard pecs. He gestured at his chest, as if to indicate, exhibit A.

“And you’re super uptight.”

“I am not uptight.”

“Control freak.”

“That’s–”

Jungkook turned around and placed the kettle on its stand. You swooped in with a Pikachu-themed kitchen towel and wiped the excess water away, scowling. Jungkook raised his eyebrows at you, brown eyes laughing.

“That’s literally a safety hazard!” you exclaimed, waving the towel at him.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and pressed the button to start heating the water. “Haven’t you ever just… not freaked out over every little thing? Done something spontaneous and stupid?”

You placed the kitchen towel back in its proper place. “No, because that would be spontaneous and stupid, Jeon Jungkook.”

He leaned against the counter, watching you perfectly fold the towel into three parts and hang it on the rail. He scratched his nose, shaking his head. “You should be more like me.”

“Having the police called on you because you were standing on a lawn chair tooting a party horn at four in the morning?”

“That was one time! Stop bringing it up,” Jungkook groaned.

You raised your hands in innocence. “Well, I was the one called to pick you up because you literally couldn’t remember any other number and I was very disturbed on New Year’s Eve, where I should have been peacefully sleeping and not hauling your drunk ass across town.”

Jungkook sighed exaggeratedly. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t drink that much again. Jimin made me do shots–”

“You always blame Park Jimin,” you interjected, smiling. “Jimin’s the kind of guy who only wears clothes to take them off.”

“Well, it gets him laid, so I guess it’s working.”

The kettle whistled noisily, cutting through the conversation. You took a sip from your aloe juice as Jungkook grabbed a mug from your cupboard and poured the hot chocolate powder into it.

“You want some milk?”

He looked up. “You have milk?”

You went to the fridge and took out a small carton. “Because you said you were coming.”

“Aw, what a sweetie.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.”

That’s how it was with you two. Growing up together was the same conversation over and over of you constantly saying shut up and Jungkook always replying with no. If both your dads hadn’t been such good friends, you probably wouldn’t have been able to tolerate him. Since they were, you were forced to, which turned out to be okay, since it turned out you had similar interests in games and such. It drifted apart a bit when you two entered high school, but you two reconnected once university started.

The dysfunctionality Jungkook was referring to was your two older sisters, who both got pregnant out of wedlock and thus caused a lot of tension between them, your parents, and you, the one who hadn’t actually done that yet. And you were trying to keep it that way.

Jungkook poured half-water and half-milk, stirring it with a silver spoon he found in your drawer. You lived alone, having gotten a full scholarship to be able to pay for tuition, meals, and part of a small apartment. Your parents paid for the rest – another point of strain between you and your sisters. That’s why you kept your grades up and rarely went out.

“When was the last time you fucked a guy?”

You sucked the inside of your cheek. “Dunno. Maybe two years ago.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows and took a long sip. “So, only girls, huh?”

You tilted your head and sighed. “They don’t get you pregnant.”

“Neither does a condom.”

“That’s a ninety-eight percent chance, not one hundred.”

He licked the excess off his pink lips. He looked like he wanted to say something, but reconsidered, taking another sip before replying. “You don’t miss dick?”

“I mean, a dildo is a dick.”

Jungkook nearly spat out his hot chocolate. You snatched your Pikachu towel again and threatened him with it. He raised a hand, coughing.

“A dildo is not a dick,” he hacked out. “You insult me.”

“Hmph.” You turned back around and placed the Pikachu towel back in its place, making sure the graphic was perfectly centered.

“You tell your parents?”

You narrowed your eyes. ‘Why the fuck would I tell my parents that I fuck girls instead of guys to avoid getting pregnant?”

He shrugged. “Give them peace of mind?”

“You think too highly of the generation before us.”

Jungkook gave you a weird look. “So… you’re just using them?”

“No.” You paused. “Okay, maybe a little, but it’s not because they’re girls. I guess I haven’t found someone who understands me yet.”

He took a long, noisy sip of hot chocolate. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No one can understand you if you only fuck once and drop them.”

“Wouldn’t you fucking know,” you replied irritably.

“Now, I fuck multiple times before I realize it’s not going to work out,” Jungkook countered.

You shoved your bottle of aloe juice back into your fridge. Suddenly, you weren’t thirsty anymore.

“Is that the only reason?”

You closed the fridge door.

“Reason for what?”

“Is fear of pregnancy the only reason you fuck girls?”

“I don’t know!” you shouted, throwing your hands up. You spun around, blowing hot air. “I don’t fucking know why I do it, Jungkook. I don’t know why I load up dating apps to only hook up with girls, I don’t know why I don’t try to get into relationships with them, I don’t know what is wrong with me and why I can’t give anyone a chance and I don’t know why you pop up in my head every time I try to fucking masturbate! It is annoying and I do not like it, so I try to get off with someone else!”

Your chest was heaving with exertion and annoyance, hand curled onto a fist and planted on your kitchen counter, glaring at the space past Jungkook’s head, muscle twitching in your cheek. Your heart was beating so fast it didn’t feel real.

Silence.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.”

And then you turned around, stalking back to your bedroom.

Or would have, if you didn’t hear the clink of the mug touching the kitchen counter and Jungkook grabbing your upper arm, yanking you back, slamming you against his muscular body. You hissed, staring into his chest.

“Let me go.”

“Hold on a second.” You watched Jungkook take a deep breath, his toned, tan skin rising and falling. The silver necklace on his collarbones flashed as he breathed. “Just hold on a damn second.”

Your eyes were on the low neckline of his black shirt. It felt weird being close to him. Not that you two haven’t been physically close, because you had. But it had never been like this. Since you realized he wouldn’t leave your mind every time you tried to masturbate. Since you started looking to other people to push him out. Since you were sure that it was not just a passing thought, not just your brain playing tricks on you. And being this close to him now, you understood.

And it scared you.

“You cannot dump all that on me and expect me not to react,” Jungkook said quietly.

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No,” he snapped. He grabbed both your upper arms and shook you violently, making you jerk your head up to blink at him. Jungkook furrowed his brows, his dark eyes glaring at you, jaw clenched tightly. “I will not shut up. Why should I shut up? I should shut you up.”

And then he kissed you.

Your eyes widened. Jungkook’s pink lips were on you. You. On your lips, pressed firmly against them, gripping you so tight you were losing feeling in your arms. You tore back, stumbling, touching your lips, shoulders shaking, not sure why your heart was beating out of your chest, not sure why your lips tingled and wanted more, not sure why Jungkook slowly opening his eyes and flickering to you made your knees knock together uncomfortably.

“What are you doing?” you sputtered. “You don’t even… what…?”

“I’m kissing you,” he growled, walking up to you and pinning you against the counter. “I’m fucking kissing you because you want me to.”

“I don’t…”

“Just shut up, please.”

And then Jungkook kissed you again, harder this time, pressing you against the kitchen counter, hands coming up and taking you by the waist, pulling you to him and his leather jacket, him and his black shirt, breathing your name into your lips, your hands grabbing his t-shirt and yanking him to you, gasping into his mouth. And you wanted to say, no, no, you weren’t supposed to know, but it was too late because you were shoving his leather jacket off, grasping his shoulders, fingers pressing into his hard muscles, sliding down his biceps.

You yanked your head back and his hand came up to grab it back, kissing you more, more, tongue licking your lips, hissing your name, grinding his hips against yours. Your hand came up in between you two, stopping him, stopping him and his insatiable lips.

“You have to s-say–” You moaned, feeling him harden against your fleece pajamas. “You have to say it.”

“Say what?” Jungkook muttered impatiently, kissing your hand, speaking into your palm.

“Say you’re okay with it,” you gritted out as he rolled his crotch into yours.

“Obviously I’m okay with it,” he grumbled. “Why else am I humping you in your kitchen?”

“You said I’m a c-control freak,” you groaned, throwing your head back as Jungkook slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed it, grinding against you.

“You are,” he grunted. “You can’t let go, you can’t enjoy yourself, you can’t even tell me you like me so I can fucking fuck you already, instead of me cancelling my parties so I can spend time laying on your bed and staring at you playing video games wondering when you’re going to fucking notice that I want to bang you.”

“What?” you replied breathlessly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “You’re so busy controlling your own life that you don’t even notice the people around you anymore.”

“What?” you repeated again as Jungkook hoisted you up by your ass and began to walk, forcing you to grab him by the shoulders and stare down his right arm, the fully tattooed one with flowers and script and the tiny circle with angry slits for eyes and a frown on the inside of his elbow, the one Jungkook said was for you and you had slapped him in the chest and told him to shut up.

“Let me take over for once,” he mumbled, placing his chin on your shoulder and nudging you with his head and his non-crispy but still not quite soft dark hair.

“You said I would be an awful sub.”

Jungkook dumped you on the bed, shooing you upwards. You didn’t move, frowning at him. He sighed dramatically.

“You would. You are,” he corrected, planting a hand on your chest and pushing you down, bouncing you against your Pikachu bedsheets. He sandwiched your arms at your sides and straddled your torso. The bed bowed far too low and you almost slid off. Hurriedly, you scooted upwards and Jungkook followed, unbothered.

“You said I’m terrible with authority.”

Jungkook wrestled your arms back down and pinned them with his strong thighs. “You are.”

“You said I’m angry, twenty-four, seven.”

He cocked his head, slowly unbuttoning your pajama shirt. “Still true.”

“And you said I’m uptight,” you added ruefully, pouting.

Jungkook shrugged, reaching in between his legs to unbutton he last few ones. “I’ll fuck it out of you.”

“Jungkook!”

“What?”

He paused, towering above you, eyebrow raised. His black hair curled around his ears, against his silver hoops and base of his neck. His dark eyes pierced down at you, tiny mole under his lips clearly visible from this position. You could see the bottom of his sharp chin, the black t-shirt clinging to his chest, the shape of his tan arms, one tattooed, one not, from below.

“Y-you’re pinching my right arm…”

Jungkook looked down, moving his left leg. “Sorry.”

You winced, pulling out your left arm to rub the other. He tapped your forearm impatiently with his finger.

“You’re ruining the moment,” he scolded.

“You ruined it by bruising me,” you shot back, backing up to your pillows on your elbows, grimacing as you soothed your arm.

“I’m going to bruise you more if you keep being a little brat,” Jungkook growled, following you on hands and knees, the neckline of his t-shirt hanging down, revealing way too much of his skin. Your eyes widened and you slipped, a white plush Poro bonking you in the head. He grabbed it and tossed it aside, the poor guy rolling on the floor.

“That’s very rude,” you muttered, but he was over your body now, breathing hard, staring down your now open shirt and the curve of your breasts into your black bra.

“Why do you get hotter every year?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I… don’t?”

Jungkook shoved the sides of your pajama shirt apart impatiently, reaching under your back and pinching the bra clasp, undoing it with one hand.

“Yes, you do,” he exhaled hotly. “Every year you get prettier and prettier and it pisses me off so much that I have to work out to look half as good as you.”

You felt your ears and cheeks get hot. “Well… you do look very, erm, good.”

“You’re very convincing,” Jungkook chuckled darkly, pushing your bra up and sucking in his lower lip as he revealed your hard, quivering nipples.

Your eyes shifted away from his hungry eyes. “I, uh… am very wet.”

A single, perfectly shaped eyebrow ticked. “Show me.”

“Um…”

He lifted himself off you, pointing down.

“Show me,” Jungkook commanded.

You tried to move your arms and found them tangled in your clothes. You frowned and shrugged out of your pajama shirt, chucking it and your bra aside, before gripping the waistband of your green fleece pants. You hesitated and looked back at Jungkook, who just flapped his hand downwards, giving you a neutral expression.

You puffed your cheeks and raised your hips, yanking your pants and panties down your thighs. You had to bend your legs a bit to fully take them off since Jungkook’s knees were on the outside of your thighs.

Now you were fully naked in front of your childhood best friend. And he was still fully clothed.

“Er, aren’t you going to–”

Jungkook cut you off. “You still haven’t shown me.”

You blinked at him. “What do you want me to do, become a fucking pretzel?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Any way you can prove to me you’re wet.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Fucking…” You bent your right leg and slid it up between his thighs, brushing against his sweatpants and feeling his hard-on for a hot second before you jammed your leg into your chest and lifted it out, pressing your thigh against your torso and raising your calf into the air. You turned your head to the left, letting out an exasperated huff.

“There. You see it?”

Shit, this position was embarrassing for some reason. You could feel cold air on your dripping pussy. Maybe he couldn’t see or something. You lifted your right arm to wrap around your thigh, pressing it down against your breasts since Jungkook wasn’t saying anything.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jungkook breathed.

“Okay, going to put my leg do–”

You gasped, suddenly feeling Jungkook’s fingertips touch your heated core, smearing your juices around the lips, his hot breath against your ear as he touched you. You shuddered as he stroked your folds, your name on his lips, his lips kissing your ear.

“Had to touch you,” he whispered against your neck, tone desperate. “I’m sorry, I just had to touch that beautiful pussy, all wet and slopping for me.”

Your eyelids fluttered as his middle finger found your clit, pressing on it. “J-Jungkook… That’s my…”

He chuckled deep in his throat. “Yeah? That’s your what?”

Slow, lazy circles, pushing it around, moan leaving your lips. “My c-clit…”

“Want me to touch it?” Jungkook purred. “Want me to handle your pleasure?”

But he as already touching it, nursing the sensitive bundle of nerves and rousing your lust, igniting it and setting it on fire.

“Y-yes…”

He kissed down your neck, whispering softly, licking your collarbones. “You trust me? You trust me with this pretty, perfect, hot, sexy, fuckable body?”

You arched your neck, giving him more access as he ran his pink lips all over, rubbing your clit, mouth on your throat. Your whole body shook, hips rolling into his finger.

“Y-yes…”

His breath so electrifying that you could barely focus, barely speak as Jungkook’s other hand came up behind your head, long fingers burying into your hair, holding tight, so tight it almost hurt, teeth nipping at your skin.

“Want to mark you,” he mumbled. “Want to give you a big fat hickey you can’t explain, want to bruise you so bad you’ll be staring at it for weeks, thinking about my lips on you, remembering my teeth gave you that.”

He pressed another finger to your clit, increasing the pace, and all you could do was hiss out a yes, a burning yes, a pleading yes, please, Jungkook, whining as his teeth sank into the spot where your shoulder and neck connected, sucking hard, his tongue licking away the prickling pain. His hips rolled into your thigh, his hard cock pressing against you, straining against his pants.

Jungkook moaned into your skin, so hot, so intense, rubbing your aching clit faster, harder, more urgently. Sucking and humping your leg as the feeling of his teeth and his fingers overwhelmed you, one hand clutching his shirt and one hand curled into your sheets as your thighs shook, trying to close but unable to because Jungkook was so strong, so there, so overpowering that you could only lay there and take it, take it as his name poured out of you in a breathless wail, throwing your head back as you felt your pussy clench around nothing, your juices becoming slicker, thicker, the scent of your orgasm staining the air.

He shoved the two fingers inside you and unlatched his mouth, moaning with you as he felt you squeeze his fingers, pumping you in long, slow strokes, all the way to his knuckles. You whimpered, tightening your core and Jungkook moaned again, eyes closed, his hair in disarray as you fucked his hand, clamping your hands on his right forearm, gasping at the feel of his muscle. Pussy throbbing around his fingers, hips meeting his knuckles over and over.

His eyes opened, watching your fuck yourself with his hand, an almost bored expression on his features, but you didn’t care because you felt him flex his fingers and his arm, telling you to continue, telling you he liked it.

“I thought you were going to let me do it.” Jungkook’s voice was low, trying to stay even despite his shallow breathing. “Have to control everything, don’t you?”

You caught your lower lip in your teeth, eyes moving to his face, his handsome, angular face with his black hair curled around his forehead and his cocked eyebrow, smirk on his lips.

“I’m not in control,” you panted. “Your forearm is…”

Jungkook flexed it under your hand and you moaned pathetically, breath hitching.

His smirk grew wider.

“It’s getting you off touching it.”

You swallowed, close, so close and Jungkook was taunting you and for some reason you couldn’t tell him to shut up, because he kept tensing his arm and it was so fucking hot that you really were going to orgasm.

“Say it,” he purred, breathing your name. “Tell me you like my forearm.”

Your eyes shifted down to his arm in your hands, the tiny angry face tattoo in his inner elbow frowning at you.

“I fucking love it, Jungkook,” you gasped. “Fuck, I love your delicious, sexy-as-fuck forearms.”

He grinned and began to thrust his fingers into you, fast, so fast you couldn’t even fathom how he could be that fast like a fucking vibrator, sending torrents of pleasure through you and his arm was so hard and his skin so soft that your eyes rolled back into your head, moaning his name far too loud. Jungkook placed a hand over your mouth and you screamed into it, liquid gushing down your thighs, but he didn’t stop, he kept going until you felt it again, pussy throbbing, back-to-back, eyelids fluttering, nails digging into his arm as the crescendo slammed into you, taking your breath and senses away, lost only in the feeling of Jungkook’s secure presence above you.

He slowed, breathing hard. Gently, carefully pulling his fingers out of your pulsating pussy, gasping as he removed his hand. You vaguely heard Jungkook place his fingers in his mouth, sighing wantonly at your taste.

“You taste so good,” he whispered around his fingers. “Fuck, so sweet and thick and delicious.”

Your brain could not compute what the fuck was happening. Did Jungkook just give you three mind-blowing orgasms in a row after you exploded at him and admitted to thinking about him while masturbating?

Holy shit.

He pressed his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You swallowed thickly.

“Jungkook, do you, ah… want something too?” you asked quietly.

You heard him snicker. “If I take my clothes off, I’m going to want to put my dick in you.”

“… I’m cool with that.”

“I thought a dildo was the same as a dick?”

You cleared your throat. “Ah… Well, I didn’t think you’d want to put a dick in me.”

Jungkook laughed. “If I had five dicks, I’d put them all in you.”

“Erm… mathematically speaking, that doesn’t really work…”

“Shut up.”

Jungkook sat up, looking down at you with a smile. The same smile he always had, but a little different now, because he didn’t have to hide his attraction to you anymore.

“You really let me put it in you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “With a ninety-eight percent chance, only.”

His smile became mischievous. “That’s not one hundred percent.”

You puffed your cheeks.

“I’ll take the two percent chance for you and only you, Jungkook.”

He grinned and turned around, throwing himself to the end of the bed where his jeans were barely holding on. Fishing through the pockets, retrieving the foil packet from the back pocket. You blinked at him.

“How long has that been–”

Jungkook gave you a silencing look. “I bring a new one every time I come over, in hopes you become drunk enough to sit on my dick.”

You blinked at him. “What.” Not a question, just you stating it.

“Because you’re paranoid.”

You frowned. “I’m not–”

He launched himself over the bed and silenced you with a kiss, deep and longing. You leaned into it, breathing softly, tongue against his, pressing back against him. Jungkook drew back slowly, thumb on your cheek. Eyes looking into yours, careful and tender.

“I don’t want you to worry,” he said against your lips. “I’ll do anything you want. I know it’s not easy for you. I know you’re not ready for the million babies I want from you.”

“I can’t have a million babies. It’s not scientifically possible,” you interjected.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “Can you just let me have one romantic moment?”

“Erm, sorry.”

“You want me to have a damn vasectomy or something? Because I’ll fucking do it. That shit’s reversible.”

“No, that kind of requires more time and I’m pretty horny for your dick right now. Condom will do.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “You are a shitty sub.”

“I will do better after I’ve had the dick.”

Jungkook straightened and yanked his black t-shirt over his head. “No, you won’t.”

Your eyes roamed over his toned chest. Damn, he was ripped. Maybe he was insecure about you being hot or something, but you were certainly benefiting. “You never know?”

Jungkook sent you a pained look and pressed a hand to your chest, shoving you back into your bed. “I’ve known you way too long to believe those words coming out of your mouth.”

You were going to reply, but he ran his hand over your chest, inhaling sharply as he brushed against your nipples. He ran his fingers over them, squeezing a little. You whined, trying to get more, but Jungkook pressed his palm down on your breast, breathing hard.

“Listen, woman, I’m about to explode in my damn underwear. Stop sounding so sexy this instant.”

Your eyes found his, pupils blown wide, lips pursed, and jaw tight. Your lips parted a little, tongue peeking out, a soft moan of his name emitting from your throat. You saw a muscle in his eyebrow twitch. He looked like he wanted to throttle you, at least a little bit.

You grinned.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“You are lucky you’re cute,” he muttered. “And lucky I want to be in this pussy more than I want to be alive.”

“Don’t you ne–”

Jungkook planted his hand on your mouth. “The only words I want to hear out of you are, “Fuck me harder” or my own name, you got that?” he snarled, pressing his hand into your face for emphasis.

You nodded quickly.

He sighed, almost in relief, and yanked his pants and underwear down, wincing. There was a large wet spot on his boxer briefs, strings of pre-cum clinging as he pushed it down his muscular thighs.

“You made me a giant mess,” he muttered, eyes flickering up to you. “What do you have to say?”

You blinked at him and gave him a thumbs up.

He grinned. “You do know how to listen.”

In truth, you couldn’t say anything because you were breathlessly staring at Jungkook’s thick cock, red head glistening with pre-cum, dripping everywhere. You slid down quickly, startling him, and wrapped your lips around the head, moaning as his strong taste invaded your mouth. He hissed, gritting his teeth as your tongue swiped around, licking his length all over, feeling the veins and contours, memorizing them.

“F-fuck,” he gasped. “You wanted to clean me up that bad?”

Your eyes traveled up his abs, his pecs, his neck, to his face, giving him your best imploring look. He smirked, placing a hand on your forehead, and gradually, with great effort, pulled out of your tight mouth. Tight because you sucked in your cheeks, not wanting to let him go, but Jungkook was stronger than you. You frowned, but he shooed you away.

“I allowed it this one time. Now back to your spot.”

You backed up, tsking as you watched him roll down the condom, groaning as it covered him.

“I’m actually glad I have this fucking condom,” Jungkook muttered, glaring at you.

You couldn’t say anything, so you spread your legs. His eyes dropped down and he bit his lower lip, crawling to you, grabbing your thighs. Placing himself right in front of your soaked entrance, staring down at your pussy as he guided himself, sinking into you.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut.

You moaned, feeling Jungkook’s cock stretch you out, so different from a silicone dildo or multiple fingers, because it was Jeon Jungkook praying for air as you clenched around his length, his cries of pleasure as he rocked his hips into you. Those long nights with your vibrator and his Instagram open on your phone were incomparable to his cock molding to your walls, his hard hips finally hitting your thighs, all the way in, and it was so good that you throbbed around him, shuddering.

“J-Jungkook…” you pleaded.

“I know,” he panted, hands gripping your knees tight. “I know, but give me a second to appreciate this pussy, holy fuck.”

He jerked his cock inside you and you cried out, definitely crushing your sheets, but Pikachu had seen a lot by now and there was only going to be more.

Jungkook finally began to slide out and push back in, groaning, starting slow and deep because quite frankly he needed to last more than five seconds and your pussy was not letting up. You had too much control over your vaginal muscles and he was too into you to not be hugely turned on by it, shoving your legs up higher so he could go deeper, feel more of you surround him and massage his length.

“H-harder…” you whimpered. “Please, Jungkook, fuck me harder…”

And how could Jungkook say no to that? Begging so perfectly, with just the right amount of desperation, and you didn’t even know it was driving him insane, because he knew normally you were so wound up, always worrying about being perfect, always worrying about doing the right thing, but now you were unraveling on his cock as he bent down and put more force into it, pounded you harder, watching the ecstasy in your eyes, your mouth opening and tongue peeking out, hot breath in his face. Knuckles white as you clutched the sheets, pleasure radiating up his length as you came with a cry, his name, his name on those perfect lips, lips he always watched with envy, wondering who had them, wondering who was so lucky to capture them.

And now it was just him, just him and you, and his hips slapping into your hips, pussy nearly choking his cock, but it felt so good, so fucking euphoric as you fucked him back, raising your hips to meet his, loud, wet, and lewd, probably causing a ruckus next door. But neither of you cared, your names mixing together, your eyes staring to Jungkook’s piercing brown ones, hot pleasure radiating up your stomach, your chest, to your head and there was no one else.

No one else but Jungkook’s name tumbling out of your mouth as the wave soared into you, pussy spasming as you came again, unsure at what number it was, but it was the one Jungkook wasn’t prepared for and he groaned, smacking into you one last time before you felt his cock throb and pulse against your walls, spilling into the condom. You gasped at the feeling, clenching around him, his right hand reaching over to grasp yours and hold it tightly, intertwining your fingers.

“W-wow…” you whispered breathlessly. “Nice cock.”

Jungkook burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable.” He reached down and gingerly felt around in your dripping folds, finding the end of the condom and pulling out carefully.

“Fuck. It’s so much,” he gulped, brows knitted in worry.

You waved a hand. “It’s fine. I finished my period yesterday. Likelihood of you getting me pregnant is pretty low.”

Jungkook jerked his head towards you.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say that sooner?” he roared, slapping your leg. “I was scared shitless over here!”

You placed your hands over your ears. “So loud. Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No!”

--

masterpost

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Boys Who Speak With Silver Luck

Joe Liebgott x Reader

Ok, so THIS is more what I was intending to write for you, @itswormtrain​​! Hope you can learn to forgive me!!

This one is a soul sister/unofficial sequel to ‘You’ve Been Sad (Because I’ve Been Lonely)’ bc I’m bad at doing one shots 

Warnings: SMUT, domesticity, fluff, healthy dynamics, poetry being an aphrodisiac, feels(?)

All poetry mentioned is from the anthology No Thanks by ee cummings, and the title is from the song (inspired by 44 by ee cummings) comes from The Boys Are Too Refined by The Hush Sound

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I still don’t see how you can read those things.”

 You smirk to yourself, nudging his thigh with your foot as he sits at the foot of the bed. 

In retaliation,  Joe lightly traces the tip of his finger up the arch of your right foot and chuckles when you flinch at the tickle of it, the chuckle becoming a laugh when you lower your book and frown at his mirth.

“And here I thought you were actually wanting to do something nice for me,” you tease, letting him pull your foot back into his lap and watching him smirk as he returns to massaging the sore muscles there. “Should’ve known you were gonna betray me eventually….”

 He scoffs at your theatrics, mumbling a soft apology when you hiss in discomfort as his thumb works on a particularly tight knot just above your heel.

 “Why do you wear those things if they hurt your feet so badly?”

 You furrow your brows at him, resting the book on your stomach as you let a smile play on your lips.

 “They’re called heels, and I wear them because they make my legs look amazing.”

 Joe tilts his head to the side as his face takes on a contemplative expression.

  “‘This is true…” he says with a nod. “You look fuckin’ gorgeous in ‘em.”

 You offer a hmph in smug agreement, picking your book back up and continuing where you left off.

 Tonight had been the night of Chuck’s family’s yearly holiday party, the one night where both you and Joe dressed to the nines and got to rub elbows with people Joe and Chuck lovingly referred to as ‘rich snobs with inherent mommy fetishes’. 

Joe never failed to leave you starstruck when he wore his nicest uniform, and even though you didn’t wear yours, Joe always managed to convince you to pin your Purple Heart and as many unit citations you could fit to the breast of whatever dress you picked out. 

 “Fuckin’ love watching those ignorant fuck’s faces when they realize what a badass my wife is,” he had growled in your ear as you had gotten ready that night. “Gets me harder than a goddamn rock, you got no idea…”

 The two of you had danced and drank and laughed over some of the most amazing food you’d ever tasted. It had been perfect.

More and more things were becoming perfect as time went on and the dark horrific shadows of war began to shrink away under the bright California sunshine. 

It was heartbreakingly nice to see Joe happy, truly happy. He deserved it- you all deserved it.

 A groan of frustration is the only warning you get before Joe crawls up your body and plops himself atop you, the suddenness of the action making you release a grunting giggle. Undeterred by the obvious fact that you’re trying to read, he kisses at your chest through your shirt.

 “Pay” kiss “attention” kiss “to meeee” kiss

 You take one hand from the book to scratch lightly at his scalp, smiling at the sound of him humming in annoyance.

 “What’s in that dumb book that’s got you glued to it, huh? What can big words give you that my big—OW.”

 You cut him off by clunking the book gently against the back of his head, giving him a soft smile when he looks up at you with a frown.

 “You’re so needy,” you chastise hollowly. “Never thought you’d get jealous over something as silly as poetry—”

 Joe rolls his eyes. “Poems are for kids and nerds, don’t get what it is about-” he sits up a bit more so he can see the cover of your book. “Whatever an ee cummings is that’s got you so gaga over it…”

 You raise an eyebrow at him. “Believe it or not, Joseph, I think you’d actually like this guy’s poems—”

 Joe snorts before bringing his head back down to rest on your chest. “Yeah, okay—”

 “Hey,” you challenge, scooting up on your pillows so you can sit up, the movement bringing his head to your ribcage. “I’m serious! If you were to like any sort of poetry, you’d need it to be as sexual and swear-y as you are…. Here, listen-”

 Before he can protest, you flip to the one you had in mind: 44.

 “the boys i mean are not refined 

they go with girls who buck and bite 

they do not give a fuck for luck 

they hump them thirteen times a night

 one hangs a hat upon her tit 

one carves a cross on her behind 

they do not give a shit for wit 

the boys i mean are not refined…”

 “Gimme that!”

 Suddenly, the book is ripped from your hand- and before you can protest you are shocked to see Joe turn the book so he can bury his nose in it. Careful not to be smug about it, you bite back a smile as you watch him mouth the words as he reads. 

 The fact that you’re able to hold in a laugh when his eyebrows shoot up in surprise should make you eligible for another Purple Heart.

 When Joe’s eyes flick up to meet yours, he’s looking at you as if you’ve just done some suspicious slide of hand- intrigued but still somewhat cautious.

 “Well?” you ask. “What did you think?”

 Joe flicks his gaze down to the book again, like he thinks it may have changed somehow when he wasn’t looking.

 “Are they….all like this?”

 You do smile now. “Well, I’m not sure- I haven’t read them all yet.”

An idea pops into your mind as he flips through the pages of the book.

 “If you give it back, I can see if I can find another—”

 Joe suddenly smirks, and when he lifts his face so you can see him, he’s looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Read this one.”

 Now you’re the hesitant one, taking the book back from him as if it could suddenly turn into a snake.

The poem he’s picked  is one you haven’t read yet, but if it’s one that Joe picked out you can only imagine what the subject matter is.

 “Okay then,” you say slowly, clearing your throat as you cast him a brief look of suspicion before beginning.

 “may i feel said he

 (i'll squeal said she 

just once said he) 

it's fun said she”

 (may i touch said he

 how much said she

 a lot said he) 

why not said she….”

 As you read, Joe’s hands come up to hold your sides as he kisses slowly across your chest, your stomach. Every so often, his thumbs smooth upward to rub across your shirt-covered  nipples, and you can feel him smile as he kisses at you.

 Your shirt has bunched up, revealing your hips and the sensitive skin between them. Your cheeks feel hot, and your mouth suddenly becomes dry as his lips drag between your hip bones promisingly.

His hair tickles your skin when he begins mouthing lower, to the waistband of your underpants.

 “Y/N?”

 “Yeah?” you sigh, tongue wetting your bottom lips as you begin to breathe heavier.

 “Keep reading.”

 Oh. You hadn’t realized that you’d stopped.

Clearing your throat, you blink a few times before finding the place you left off.

 “Uh, (let's go said he 

not too far said she 

what's too far said he 

where you are said she)

 may i stay said he 

(which way said she 

like...like this said he 

I-if you kiss said she- shit, Joe….”

 Joe’s warm hands have worked your underwear down your hips and around the swell of your bottom, and the heat of his breath across the thinner skin that he’s exposed has you losing focus again.

Because he’s nothing if not a consummate tease, he doesn’t do anything more than kiss only a sliver of the newly revealed skin.

 “Y/N…” he reminds you, nipping lightly at you when you groan in frustration. “I think there’s still some to go—”

 Your heart is thrumming in your chest, and it takes you a few seconds to find where you left off this time.

 “M-may i move said he

 is it love said she) 

if you're…..uh, if you’re willing said he 

(but….. you're killing said she….”

 The words have started to dance across the page, a whine coming from somewhere deep in your chest at the first touch of his fingers to the slick lips of your sex.

You’ve officially lost your place, now. You just pick the stanza your eye catches first and hope for the best.

 “(tiptop said he 

don't stop said she

 oh no said he) 

go slow said she- fuuuuuck…..

 I-(cccome?said he….goddamn it Joe, please!”

 You throw the book off to the side, sweat beading on your brow from how deliberately cruel Joe is being as he continues massaging at you. When Joe sees that you’ve started to shake, he lunges up the bed to wrap a hand around the back of your neck and kisses you messily- your teeth clacking together briefly as he buries his fingers inside of you and immediately finds the place that never fails to ruin you.

 Clinging to the front of his shirt, you squeeze your thighs together as a delicious tremor rolls up your body from where you’ve trapped his hand. You’re so worked up you almost want to cry, the heat in your lower belly almost bowing your back.

 “Does that feel good, Baby?” he mumbles against your lips. “Who is it that’s making you feel this good, huh?”

 You make an incoherent noise, quickly wrapping am arm around his shoulders to try and bring his mouth back to yours, mewling in frustration when he refuses to do so.

 “Ungh! Joe, I’m begging you!”

 “Say it again,” he says darkly, and if you had the strength to open your eyes you’d see just the power-drunk way he is looking down at you. “Do it—”

 “Joe! Joe Joe Joe Joe Joe….”

 You chant his name like a prayer, your voice dying in your throat as he starts using his palm to stimulate your neglected clit.

 With a silent scream, you come apart, head lolling back as he continues to coax you through your orgasm, dimly aware of the praise being kissed across your chin as he refuses to relent the punishing paste he’s established.

 Your face is throbbing with the strength of your thudding heart when he finally starts to slow down, your body still bowing and writhing as he begins to coo down at you sweetly, capturing your lips with his as your shaking starts to subside and your sweat begins to cool.

 “Good girl,” he sighs into your mouth. “You’re such a good girl for me….”

 You don’t reply- can’t reply.  Joe’s reduced you into a boneless mess of a woman.

 When you do eventually open your eyes, Joe is smiling down at you with an obvious affection that threatens to get your heart racing once more. Not taking his eyes from yours, he gently slides his fingers from your still-fluttering sex and makes a show of licking them clean. 

 With a mischievous wink, he uses his other hand to smooth your hair from your forehead before carefully rolling so he’s laying beside you, his shoulder pressed against your as he chuckles.

 “Huh, whaddaya know,” he says after he releases one of his fingers from between his lips with a lewd pop. “Guess poetry isn't that bad.”

 Using all of your energy, you turn your head to give him the weakest glare you think you’ve ever given.

 “When….when I can breathe witho’ havin’ to think about it so hard, I’m gon’ make you cum til you pass out.”

 Joe gives you a smiling kiss.

“And I’ll let you….once we finish round two.”

 Well, looks like I’ll be going back to the bookstore sooner than I thought.

~ ~ ~ Taglist: @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​ @teenmagazines​ @liebgotttme​

[peachyteabuck]

i’m a money symbol

summary: when ransom finds out he’s been cut from the will, there’s a different reason he flies into a murderous rage 

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

words: 1655

trigger warnings: degradation, findom/sub dynamics, sex work, 

notes: thank you to @helahades​ for talking to me about this concept when i was still debating writing it. ur an enabler but i love u very much

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Ransom stares at you with eyes that rival that of pleading puppies - large and watery and a deep, deep blue. His clean-shaved face, tear-stained and reddened from the sobs that still riddle his body, is equally as pathetic.

“I-I promise I-I can pay you s-”

You cut him off with the raise of a single sculpted eyebrow, looking down at him as he falls to his knees - body folded and hands clasped together like a fervent believer praying for forgiveness after committing some heinous sin, or a servant begging their superior to let them keep their lowly position. Either analogy seems fitting given the circumstances, given his lack of inheritance and the slowly declining numbers in his bank account.

“One thing,” you hiss, lifting one of your expensive Louboutin heels so that it presses into the base of his neck, forcing his body into an even more unnatural position. He groans just a little at the pain - ass (and much more of him, probably) still sore from last night’s session. You ignore him. “I ask for one thing. It’s not hard. In fact, it was the one thing you could do quite well. Any now, what, you have none?”

Ransom gulps, nearly out of breath. “I-I have money it’s just that I-, I’m cut off right now I sw-”

The pointed heel presses further, his legs spreading underneath him to make room as his nose nearly touches the recently cleaned red oak flooring.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, practically spitting as you glare down at him. “Only good little boys who pay me to earn the right to speak to me are allowed to blubber like children.”

He whimpers as the sharp pain from your expensive shoe merges with the clumsy position of his limbs to settle in his blood – his whole body screaming like a banshee as his cock strains in his years-old designer skinny jeans.

“The worst part is,” you sigh, watching his muscles strain just as heat settles in your stomach. Slowly, but surely, it moves to your core. “I was looking forward to seeing you again. Can you imagine such a thing? Me, looking forward to seeing one of you stupid little pay pigs…”

A dry laugh fills the air that sense another wave of arousal through his nervous system, his muscles and brain screaming at him to get up and walk the Hell out of there while his cock pleads with him to stay in place.

“Now get naked,” you sigh, swishing the sweet cocktail in one of the glasses monogrammed with your initials you had gotten as a gift (again, not from Ransom) last year. “I know of a way you can be of use to me.”

Immediately he strips, your gaze heated and targeted as he peels that damned sweater he refuses to replace from his toned body. He sucks in a sharp breath as the air – cool despite the roaring fire – hits his bare skin, goosebumps erupting all over as he shivers under your heated gaze.

It’s amusing, to say the least, to watch his clothes hit the floor, kicked aside as if they were something worse than trash despite their designer tags. Money means nothing to Ransom Drysdale-Thrombey if it’s not being spent on you.

Without preamble, you kick him with a single heeled foot so that he’s knocked to his knees, hands strained at his sides as he desperately attempts to obey the rules that accompany punishments. As his eyes screw shut in pain, you take the few seconds to grab the worst thing you keep in the drawer of the small table next to your plush, deep purple velvet armchair. It’s the thing Ransom hates the most in this world – even more than his family or their stupid maid or being broke or even disappointing you.

Just as his eyes open, you lean down to lock his cock in the pink plastic cage with a wince-inducing click, depositing the key in the space between your chest and the baby pink fabric of your bralette. It’s simple, mostly sheer with embroidered flowers spanning over the length of each breast while barely concealing your hardened nipples. The matching panties show off your tummy and thighs – cutting you in just the right places so that you look even more heavenly than usual.

“Fu-uck,” he moans when he realizes what’s happened, what you’ve done to him. It’s almost cute in how pathetic it is, the sound he makes and the precum that gathers at the tip and how his stomach tightens with each breath. It’s cute how pathetic he is – how his face scrunches up and he bites his lips until they’re beautiful and plump. Ransom Drysdale-Thrombey may be a chauvinist asshole with an ego bigger than his trust fund (or, what he trust fund used to be), but damn can he be so pretty it hurts.

“Down,” is all you say, giving him a small hmm as he falls to all fours. His eyes remain focused on the ground as you haven’t given him permission to keep anything else in his eyeline. He doesn’t need to be told to keep his back straight, body barely flinching as you sit back down and plant your feet in the center of his spine, your authentic red bottoms a beautiful contrast to his milky skin.

“You like my shoes, baby?” you ask, rolling them back in forth against the ridges of his spine. “You got them for me when you had money—you weren’t as useless then…”

Ransom’s back is parallel to the plush white throw you’d placed on the ground for him, his palms, knees, and the front of his feet warming the fur as you rest your own feet in the center of his spine. He can’t see you as he faces your fireplace, doesn’t have the pleasure of watching you as you talk with other clients - other men with millions, maybe even billions more than him not only in their bank accounts, but in their futures. Your long acrylic nails, ones it pains him to think he didn’t pay for, taptaptap against your phone screen as messages are typed. Judging by the click he hears every so often (in combination with your shifting in your seat) Ransom assumes you’re also taking photos – but whether they’re of you to send to customers or of him to use as blackmail, he may never know.

It's painful in a plethora of ways – but the playboy can’t tell if the pit in his chest, the aching of his cock, or the sharp pain in his back hurts worse. None of these things improve with time, either, the hours marked by glasses of champagned downed and Venmo transfers made.

The only thing that makes it better is the familiar sound of your phone being locked and placed in the side table screen-down before your feet are planted back on the floor with two sharp clacks. Sounds that would normally make Ransom’s cock jump if not for the plastic that was locked around him.

“Get in position, you useless slut,” you hiss, your hand flying to this throat so you could squeeze a warning against his skin. “You’re going to pleasure me until I say you can stop.”

Ransom gulps, his eyes wide with fear and pupils blown from lust. He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a way that reminds you of when he deepthroats one of your many, many straps, and bows his head in submission. “Y-yes Mistress,” he moans deep, his eyes fluttering shut as the sheer memory of your dripping cunt floods his mind. It’s been so long – too long – since he’s been with you, been inside you; and he’s desperate as you push your panties to the side to reveal your soaked lips.

Ransom waits for your nod of approval before he launches himself forward, placing wet kisses wherever he can reach. You’re sensitive already, little gasps falling past your lips when he takes your clit between his teeth and sucks.

You don’t do a lot of sex work that involves service clients – it’s exhausting, to say the least, requires a lot of set up and take down and the like. For a long while you did no contact work, but it was a few clients – Ransom included – that convinced you to break into it.

And, fuck does he make all the work worth it. His fingers slide into you with confidence and expertise, finding that special spot inside of you with ease, groaning into your dripping cunt each time you cry out his name.

“Jesus, baby boy,” you cry out between guttural moans. “You’re so fucking good for your Mistress aren’t you?”

He nods, flatting his tongue as his face moves up and down and that-

That is what breaks you.

You come on his face as your thighs nearly choke him – his hands digging into the insides of your thighs. Ransom himself can’t tell if he’s trying to pull him apart – desperate for air as his whole body goes cold from lack of oxygen – or if his arms holding them in place so he has the honor to die while experiencing pure euphoria. As your pussy pulses on his tongue Ransom wonders if he’s already passed over, if Heaven is the space between your legs and why he’s been allowed there despite his many, many sins.

It doesn’t take long before his movements slow for a moment, causing you to groan in frustration before grabbing his previously-impeccably styled hair.

“Did I tell you to stop, slut?”

He gives you a small whine before shaking his head, eyes large and jaw soaked.

You smile at his obedience. “Then get down there and eat me out until I’m crying.”

Ransom smiles before moving his head back down, returning to his position below you.

God, you think. This really is the best job ever.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Top 5 Most Hated Characters

As y’all can see, this week’s T5F is a request sent in by anon. I picked it because I guess at the time I thought it would be fun to explore some of TWDG’s least popular, and most hated, characters while also taking into account characters that I can’t stand. 

These are characters that the vast majority of us don’t like or downright despise for many different reasons. None of us are going out of our ways to defend most of these bastards, and anyone who is I get the impression they’re doing so for the sake of being Different™... though while looking around for info about these characters and what people were saying about them, I did find myself in some odd places.... come across, eh... odd fanart. 

But I guess this is the part where I say this is all in good fun and if you happen to be a legit stan of any of these people, that’s cool. Maybe you can answer some of my questions as to why??

5. Nate 

Okay, when I said that I found myself in odd places, it turns out that Nate actually has a bit of a fanbase. It’s not big or anything, from what I can tell, but big enough for me to question why because I was under the impression that we all agreed that this dude sucks.

Seriously, I would’ve put him higher on this list if I hadn’t discovered this handful of people making fanart for him and claiming him as a comfort character. While I find that an odd choice, you do whatever makes you feel comforted, y’know? Just would like to understand why. 

As for the rest of us, he’s terrible. Every time I go back to 400 days, he’s someone I never look forward to seeing. I’ve even tried not getting in the truck with him while playing Russell’s story, but in true Telltale fashion, you’re forced to drive along with this creep. 

Red flags start going off when Russell’s sharing his story about his previous group, something you can tell left some trauma with him, and Nate is just weirdly fixated on the girl Russell liked. Like yeah okay dude, I get it, it’s the apocalypse and you haven’t had any action for a while but oh my god. 

Then the whole walker thing that almost gets Russell chomped is annoying. Oh, and how could I forget about how it’s implied that he attacked the old couple before and was there to finish them off, which he does no matter what and it’s not great. 

Hell, he even uses the line Russell gave him but it’s worse because crazy eyes. And if you don’t say anything, Nate murders them right there without a thought and then continues to be a real creep. Fuck this guy. 

As the wise Eddie once said, “I don’t what that guy in my life, man!” 

4. The Stranger

Hey, have I ever mentioned how much this dude sucks? 

I don’t even have to tell you why he’s on this list. We all know the obvious reasons-- manipulated and kidnapped Clementine, which caused Lee to get bit by a walker and fucking die. No one here is white-knighting for this dipshit. 

Sure, it sucks what the Stranger went through. He lost his family and that would be enough to drive anyone up the wall. I mean, just look at Kenny. But this dude, okay. Look. Listen. I can only feel so bad for you when you lost your son on a hunting trip that your wife told you not to go on, then when you went looking for him, you literally left the car unlocked and running for anyone to come across. Then you come back and gasp. So your wife leaves you for being a moron... then when you find her dead, you cut off her head and keep it like a damn bowling ball because...??

At least that’s what I get from it. The writers probably should’ve done a better job with explaining what the hell happened but y’know. 

That’s not the only reason no one likes this guy. Oh no, you also add to the pile that the Stranger himself is dull. As a character, the dude is just.... boring. And I get that’s probably what they were going for with the whole “I’m just a guy, but you ruined my life and made me this way.” 

However, when you set him up the way you did with the talks over the walkie and the stalking, I was expecting a bit more personality outta this loaf of soggy bread. But no... boring yet crazy. Interesting combo and I’m afraid it doesn’t work. 

3. Larry

Larry?? On a list of most hated characters?? Nooo...

Yeah, surprise. Larry also sucks. Stop the presses. 

Larry is a pain in the ass to deal with for two episodes, constantly belittling the people around him and treating his daughter like shit. Oh, and don’t forget how he behaves towards Lee even if you try to be as nice as possible. Nope, he doesn’t care, he still thinks Lee is garbage and will continue threatening to reveal Lee’s secret to the group. Who cares if that could fuck up the dynamic and endanger the group? Larry sure doesn’t. 

Until the very end, this dude is just a splinter in the foot. By the time you get to the meat locker and he has a heart attack, you’re not gonna save him because you think he’ll be better if he survives. No, you’re attempting to save him for Lilly and Clementine’s sake, and if you don’t even care about that, you siding with Mr. Family Man to smash his head in. 

Not only is he a soiled diaper, he also don’t have much personality outside of asshole. He has maybe two moments where he’s shown to be just a bit chill? I mean, Lilly tells us that he has a lot of pain and that’s why he’s like this.... but that doesn’t excuse his behavior. 

Oh, and can’t forget that apparently he was obsessed with Lilly leaving the lights on so he let the power get cut, so Lilly couldn’t eat ice cream and had to let her hair air dry like a heathen. Unforgivable. 

So yeah, fuck Larry. 

2. Troy

Ugh, Troy. Fuck this guy. 

No really, out of all TWDG characters, this dude and my #1 pick are my most hated. Can’t stand Troy and the only reason I didn’t do a tie for #1 is because for a split second, Troy does show a tiny bit of humanity when Carver is beating down Carver, but blink and you’ll miss it.

Which had me a little concerned to find a handful of posts about having crushes on Troy and drawing fanart but.... again, I guess you do you? And if you can, please explain why because I honestly don’t understand. 

Just looking at the screenshot of him annoys him. He’s got one of those punchable faces, y’know? 

Anyway, when playing as Clementine, I’m always worried that he’s gonna pop up outta no where and grab her by the neck like he does later in ep3, even though I’ve played s2 a bunch to know that he’s not going to. 

But hell, he doesn’t need any excuse to smack anyone around, and there are a handful of times he can really hurt Clem depending on her choices. 

Not great, dude. 

Can’t say I’m too sorry that Jane shot your dick off. 

1. Badger

Yeah, you guys remember Badger. Y’know.... the man who murdered Mariana then laughed about it, claiming that he enjoyed watching her head explode and would do it again and again if he could? 

That’s what puts him at #1. He may not have the most screen time like Larry or Troy, but when he is around, he’s fucking awful.

He gets joy from killing Mariana, like it’s some sort of sick thrill for him to go around murdering children and other innocent people. 

Remember Francine? Caught her and used her as bait to try and get Javi to come down, and even went as far as to have some fingers cut off. Like, he gets off on destroying people, entire communities.

Shit, he seems to even get off to his own beat down. 

He’s fucking gross and outta everyone on this list, I haven’t found a single person being like “Yeah, he’s garbage but I like him kinda?” like no, you’re such garbage that even the Different™ crowd don’t want you. 

Fuck Badger. 

By the way, if you’ve never had Conrad kill him in your game, I suggest looking it up. It’s pretty good. Gives Conrad a little bit of closure after what happened to Francine, as well as give Javi some closure for Mari’s murder. 

Not a single soul wept for you, Badger. 

---

Dishonorable Mentions

-Joan. She’s boring, forgettable, and no one is out here gushing over her because most of the time, we can’t even remember her name. -Danny from Vince’s story in 400 Days. Y’know, the dude going to prison because he was convicted of SA. I’ll never understand why people go with him over Justin. Justin sucks, too, but not the same level Danny does.  -Lilly in S4. Ugh. That’s a whole other topic for another day. -Arvo, though I guess he has a bit of a following, too

---

Well there ya go. Do you agree or disagree with any of my choices for this list? Or have anything to add? I’m always down to chat.

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

---

Next week’s T5F Top 5 BROTPs

[bossbex]

5x06 Reaction

JARCHIE!!! I missed their interactions so much... like honestly in S4 they barely spoke.  I’m loving the “roommates” dynamic.  

Ok the kevin/fangs/toni apartment(?) is... amazing!!

I love how they hired actual teenagers (or close to it) to play the high school kids... since all the “teachers” were playing high school students, what, 3 episodes ago?? 

Ok mechanic Betty is SO HOT

DORITOS I AM CRYING AT THIS PRODUCT PLACEMENT

Veronica’s taking over the Blue Velvet!!! Why not reuse that set lmao

Thoughts on this initial barchie interaction: 

I’ve seen all the discourse about it seeming like Archie doesn’t care about Betty’s problems, or not taking them seriously, and people comparing Archie’s “oof - that sucks” to jughead’s “white noise” speech in 1x08 (which I thought was cringy AF and I even liked b*ghead at the time) and here’s what I’ll say: 

His “oof - that sucks” comment as MATCHING Betty’s tone - she says it kind of matter of factly and with a bit of an eyeroll, she does NOT seem very upset about it, and she is a grown ass adult who DOESN’T need Archie’s condolences in that moment - and Archie knows that. 

She then brings up Polly, and Archie ASKS A FOLLOW UP QUESTION: “didn’t your mom say she does this? Takes off for a couple of days” which shows that he is referring to a previous conversation about this - they’ve BEEN talking about it and he DOES care (not to mention they showed that he had texted her about Polly at the end of the last episode)

She says she’s trying not to panic - because she knows this is something Polly does and may not actually be in danger - SO HE OFFERS A DISTRACTION during a time when she is basically asking for one, and then SHE COMES UP WITH THE IDEA OF WHERE TO GO HAVE SEX

Anyway I have argued with enough people on twitter about this lol.. I feel strongly.  Also, this scene was super cute and both Archie and Betty look so good in it.  

I love Tabitha.  Smart, enterprising, witty... I’m all for the Jugitha pairing. (seriously though, is a ship name decided for them? I’ve seen Tabhead and Jabitha as well, lol.  

Uhhhhh ok this car sex scene? It somehow feels even more explicit than the shower scene?? The moaning and breathing?? HOW DARE THESE STONEWALL KIDS INTERRUPT THIS

LMAO NIGHT JOGGING

Is it just me or is Sheriff Keller looking really hot? Silver fox??  

I have to note that Archie’s hair colour looks SO BAD in this whole episode but especially this football scene with the Reggie confrontation.  It’s like, almost burgundy? But somehow bright orange at the same time? I hate it.  

Ok Cole is absolutely nailing this “down on his luck, beaten down” adult Jughead.  His character is funny all the sudden?? I love that he kept the money in the tip jar like OF COURSE

Ok Chad coming into Veronica’s class HE’S THE WORST!!! And then SITTING AT THE BACK I HATE HIM SO MUCH FOR THIS

Alright, now we have another scene that has people talking, which is where Archie meets Chad.  My thoughts: 

Archie clearly sizes up Chad.  I mean, he dated Veronica for 3-ish years (in the show’s timeline) so yeah, it’s normal to meet your ex’s new partner and size them up.  It read more like “he thinks Chads a douche” as opposed to “he’s jealous of Chad because he wants to be with V”.  

They show makes a point of showing Betty’s reaction to them meeting.  THIS SHOT IS NOT RANDOM.  Yes, I’m sure the show will go there, she’ll get jealous of V at some point.  Betty thinking that Archie is jealous of Chad is not the same as Archie actually being jealous of Chad.  

I kind of loved how Chad just jumps in here to join in the karaoke night - he didn’t redeem himself from the previous scene where he SAT IN THE BACK OF HER CLASS WHILE SHE WORKED but I like how they’re not playing him completely evil

Next scene: BETTY AND TONI ARE TALKING!!! I REPEAT!!! BETTY AND TONI ARE TALKING!!! Seriously, it’s so refreshing that they’re actually letting all kinds of new dynamics and character interactions happen this season.  

Also, NEDSLIST!!!! THIS SHOW!!!!

I am living for Cheryl being completely beautiful whilst yelling at construction workers.  

So like... she actually doesn’t have that much money. She couldn’t really afford the donation for the school... I kind of wish that once she says “I can’t afford it” people would like, not keep pushing? I’m looking at you Toni, whom I absolutely adore, I just wish the writers didn’t make it like Cheryl’s being squeezed dry.  I get that it’s needed for plot purposes but I don’t love it.  

Kevin and Betty are friends again!!! Love it!!! 

Karaoke night thoughts: 

At no point is Jughead hanging out or interacting with the rest of the group.  He stays separate from them - with Tabitha, which I appreciate, but I am just noting this because I’m sure it was done purposefully. 

“She probably forgot it’s Gekko now” uhhhh didn’t Toni announce V as “Veronica Gekko” in the last episode?? LOL THE SHADE

I love Veronica’s voice

Ok so Chad actually comes off so great in this scene?? I guess this is part of his manipulation - come off as such a great guy in front of all her friends to get them to like him? 

Jughead’s reaction to the duet is so me every time I’ve watched people do karaoke lmao

During the “or do you need more? Is there something else you’re searching for” they cut to Archie’s and Betty’s reaction.  Archie is not thinking about V in that moment.  

I am not seeing one iota of jealousy from Archie.  He looks genuinely happy for them.  

This Chad and Veronica bed scene makes me uncomfortable.  But I’m glad they’re showing their softer moments! 

The Archie/football recruitment sequence... Chad in the back of Veronica’s classroom again??? HOW IS THIS HAPPENING I HATE THIS!! Also, this is another scene where Chad looks jealous of Archie... not the other way around. 

Britta!!! I love her.  And I feel like the writers inserted her in specifically for Britta Lundin, former Riverdale writer and acclaimed author (read her book Ship It, seriously, it’s so good), and I love that. BUT THE WAY ARCHIE LOOKS AT BETTY IN THIS SCENE IS THAT EVEN LEGAL

We get the first glimpse Toni’s “Operation Bring Cheryl Out Of Hiding” plan here, when Archie asks her for funding for the football team and says its earmarked for something else (hmmmmmmm... this plan has been in the works for a while... and I’m here for it) 

Ok. This scene where Archie goes to ask Cheryl for money is... a mess.  My first reaction is that it was so OOC for Archie to bring up Jason in that way.  Then I got to thinking... Archie probably would want to honour his dad in that way and was genuinely suggesting that as something that might actually be helpful to her, as opposed to purposely trying to manipulate her.  He knows what it’s like to lose a family member, he just didn’t realize that Cheryl doesn’t grieve in the same way. The boy doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body.  Anyway, now he’s been banished from Thornhill! But don’t we see him (and everyone) there in a bts photo from possibly 5x08? Isn’t that at Thornhill? Will this be addressed or will the writers just forget it ever happened?

I love Betty and Kevin investigating together. It’s so refreshing. 

Ok this place Jughead is going to is legit the creepiest shit I’ve ever seen.  I am having trouble making myself care about this “Mothmen” plot??

Betty’s “Straight to the Point” interrogation style is actually effective in this truck stop stakeout scene.  

Alice again with her wine... I wonder if there will actually be an “Alice is an alcoholic” storyline or is the wine just part of her personality now?

Ok like it’s so inappropriate for a teacher to be wearing an HBIC shirt BUT I AM HERE FOR THIS DRAMATIC VIXENS HALLWAY WALK!! And Toni is correct, Cheer is a sport so sit down, Archie.  Notably Toni adds in “not even Cheryl managed to do that” - I’m thinking she new Ms. Bell would be eavesdropping ;)

WHY IS THIS PORTAIT OF JASON WORTH SO MUCH?? 

Is this Minerva character going to be important?? I keep seeing people talking about how she and Cheryl are going to hook up but is that just because she’s a female character who interacts with Cheryl? I’m not seeing it yet but hey, it’s Riverdale.  

JUGHEAD BRINGING UP THE EPIC HIGHS AND LOWS OF HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL I SCREAMED

Seriously though, since we know Jughead wasn’t there when Archie said that, there’s two options: Either Archie told him he said it, or (my preferable theory) Archie used to just SAY THAT REGULARLY and has said it in front of Jug lmao.

Chad again seems legit supportive when she tells him about her jewelry store plan?? THEY’RE SO UP AND DOWN!!! 

Ok, so Betty is an FBI agent (trainee, whatever) and she JUST NOW THOUGHT OF TRACING POLLY’S CELL PHONE

This scene... when Veronica finds out Chad has been talking to Hiram behind her back... this is where she decides she’s done with Chad. 

Another scene with Archie - I am still getting zero vibes that he’s into Veronica? And zero vibes that Veronica’s into Archie? It makes complete sense that Veronica would want to help the bulldogs.  Chad is a total dick here and is definitely threatened by Archie... again, not the other way around.  Side note: Chad, if threatened by Archie, is a TOTAL IDIOT for suggesting Archie renovates the Pembrooke - like, he’s going to be working? All the time? Where Veronica is staying? And probably taking his shirt off because he’s sweaty from all the working?? WHYYYYY WOULD CHAD ENCOURAGE THIS

This little flirty scene between Jughead and Tabitha (and it’s the first that I would say has any flirty undertones whatsoever) is pretty cute.  

THIS BARCHIE PORCH SCENE I HAVE THOUGHTS

The fact that people are suggesting Betty showed up there because she wanted to talk to Jughead is SENDINNNNGGGGGG

Let’s be clear, she only asked about Jughead so she could make sure he wasn’t home so that she could bone Archie. There is no other interpretation for this. 

THIS IS THE BEST BARCHIE KISS TO DATE

They are playing the song from the porch scene in the pilot... DON’T TELL ME BARCHIE IS MEANINGLESS WHEN THEY ARE USING THIS SONG

I think the fact that this is the first time they had sex and we didn’t see it is meaningful - they are showing that the relationship is deepening and they are more than “just sex”

As Betty leaves, Archie looks like he wants to reach out for her and then stops himself - he is definitely falling hard and he’s afraid Betty isn’t feeling the same way

Ok, Cheryl is straight up wearing lingerie in Toni’s office!!! And the red lipstick is back - notably, throughout the entire show, she has worn the red lipstick as a kind of shield - she never has it for her “vulnerable” scenes.  Seems like that is still happening. AND this is where we see Boss Toni’s plan come into fruition - she started up the vixens and MADE SURE CHERYL FOUND OUT ABOUT IT because she knew that was the one thing that would make Cheryl come out of her Thornhill hiding spot.  Well played, Toni.  

Archie and Veronica announcing the bulldog funding... again, I’m not seeing ANY “romantic/attraction” vibes here? He does react when she says her last name is Lodge again but like, anyone would? 

MS. BELL YOU GOSSIP I’M OK WITH YOU REPORTING TO CHERYL BUT I DRAW THE LINE AT HIRAM

Is Reggie... filing his nails? Lmao

I really hope Polly isn’t dead?? Like I very much want a Polly redemption story!! 

Sooooo I guess Archie and Jughead are both going to die in this fire? Lol... well... they’re main characters so I’m sure they’re good.  

I’m doooone for this week! So far really enjoying the timejump? Obviously because of barchie but also, everyone is just - better. 

Well this turned out to be a novel.  If you made it this far, thanks for reading :) 

[deancas-fanfiction]

A Daydream Away

Chapter 1/?

Summary: After multiple couples go missing from a resort in northern Minnesota, Dean and Cas are forced to pose as a couple to investigate the mysterious entity. As Dean and Cas navigate their fake relationship, it leaves Dean questioning what's real and forces him to confront his feelings for Cas.

A story in which Cas is human, Dean is sometimes an idiot, and Sam acts as matchmaker.

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags: fake relationship, case fic, sharing a bed, human!cas, Sam ships Dean and Cas, fluff, eventual smut

available on ao3 Read Ch. 2 Here

“I think I found us a case,” Sam announced, entering the Dean Cave with his nose buried in his laptop.

Dean sighed in irritation, pausing the movie he and Cas were in the middle of watching. “This better be good, if you’re interrupting our movie night. You know we’re in the middle of Half Blood Prince, and Cas hasn’t seen it.”

“Metatron did upload the movie content into my –” Cas argued, but stilled at Dean’s murderous glare.

“Being told what happens and actually experiencing it are two very different things, Cas. You have to experience it firsthand.”

Cas opened his mouth to argue but didn’t get the chance, as Sam interrupted him by loudly clearing his throat.

“Are you two done?” Sam looked at the two of them in irritation and Dean had to stifle a laugh at the almost stern expression on his face.

“Sorry, Sammy. The floor is yours. Tell us about your case.”

“Okay, so get this. There’s this resort called Grand View Lodge in Nisswa, Minnesota where couples have reportedly gone missing. In the past month, three couples have disappeared without a trace. No evidence of foul play and all of their personal belongings were left behind as were their vehicles. None of the other guests saw or heard anything.”

“That does sound suspicious,” Cas agreed. “Did the missing persons have anything in common?”

“All I can ascertain from the articles and social media posts is that the couples were very happily in love and were staying there on their honeymoon. But there isn’t a lot of information out there. I think we need to check it out, but we’ll need to pose as a couple if we want to gather information and attempt to lure whatever entity this is.”

“Go for it,” Dean shrugged. “When are you and Eileen leaving?” Dean noted the sudden look of discomfort on Sam’s face as he awkwardly shifted the laptop to his other hand.

“So that’s the thing…”

Dean groaned. “Of course.  It’s never that simple.”

“Eileen is on a hunt in Ohio right now. She just got there, so she won’t be back in time.”

“What about Jody? Or Donna?”

Sam shook his head. “Neither can get off work. Claire and Kaia are both out on a hunt, too. That leaves just the three of us.”

“So…?”

“So, that means you and Cas will need to pose as newlyweds, and I can come as backup. The resort is looking for temporary help for the holiday season so I can work at the front desk and interview the employees for information, while you guys can lure the entity and interview the guests.”

Dean choked on his beer and barely managed to sputter out a response. “You want me…and Cas… to pose as a couple? Are you serious?”

“Fine.” He shrugged.  “Me and Cas will pose as a couple then, and you can get a job there. I just thought you’d prefer not to work at a customer service desk.”

Dean felt a flash of irritation surge through him at Sam’s suggestion. The idea of Sam and Cas posing as a couple left a bitter taste in his mouth. Imagining them holding hands or having a romantic dinner just the two of them caused him to involuntarily clench his teeth and form a fist. He wasn’t jealous. No really, he wasn’t. It just – wasn’t right, okay? Sam and Cas probably wouldn’t be able to even pull off posing as a couple. So really, for the sake of the case, Dean should agree to pair up with Cas. All for the sake of the case. That’s all.

Suddenly Deans thoughts consisted of posing as a couple with Cas. Well, not just a couple, but Cas’ husband. Dean’s mouth went dry and oh. Okay. That scenario suddenly seemed a lot more pleasant. They’d have to hold hands, but really, that wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe add a few lingering touches and cutesy nicknames into the mix. But that shouldn’t be too bad, he’s used to Cas being in his personal space. In fact, he’s sort of grown accustomed to it at this point. Cas has always gravitated towards Dean’s personal space. While it was a mild irritation at first, it evolved into a comfort as it was something so expected. Besides, since Cas became human with the help of Jack, they’ve spent much more time together. Movie nights were nearly a nightly occurrence at this point. Their thighs always pressed against each other as they fight over the shared bowl of popcorn. Or in the mornings, when Dean rests his hand on Cas’ lower back for balance so he can reach a mug from the top shelf. Or when Dean tries to teach Cas how to properly play pool by standing behind him, helping him aim the cue. Really, the list goes on. So, pretending to be married shouldn’t be that much different than their current dynamic.

Huh. That’s a new revelation. Before that thought can cause too much panic, he buries it deep inside and ignores the way it made his stomach swoop. “No, no. You’re right.” Dean cleared his throat in an attempt to hide the way his voice sounded borderline frantic. “I would be a terrible employee. I would probably be fired for flirting with the guests or yelling at my boss.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay, great. So, you and Cas can pose as newlyweds, just as I suggested. I’ll book the cabin and we’ll head out early in the morning.” He stomped out of the room and Dean mirrored his brother, rolling his eyes in return.

Cas wordlessly grabbed the remote and pressed play, leaning back into Dean as the movie resumed.

---

The next morning, they were on the road much too early, in both Dean and Cas' opinion. They stayed up later than was probably wise to finish their movie. Then Cas had questions, to which Dean had to patiently answer and suddenly it was nearly two in the morning. Meanwhile, Sam was bright eyed and happily sipping his thermos of coffee as he lowered himself into the Impala.

"Dean, if you wanted to keep sleeping I could --"

"Don't you dare." Dean warned. "I'm driving, now shut your mouth." He heard Sam sigh in response and turned the key, feeling the car rumble beneath him. He pulled out of the garage and turned onto the road, getting a start on the nine-hour drive to Nisswa.

The first hour of the drive was nearly silent. The radio played quietly in the background as all three occupants took the time to fully wake up. Every now and then Cas would nudge Dean's arm from the backseat, his silent way of asking for Dean's coffee. Dean would roll his eyes, but nevertheless pass him the thermos with a smile tugging at his lips.

The silence wasn't broken until Cas complained that Dean finished the coffee. This, of course, prompted into an argument over who was entitled to the last sip of the coffee, only to be broken by Sam's frustrated interjection.

"Guys. Cut it out. You can get more coffee when we stop for gas."

"Gas station coffee is not the same as bunker coffee."

"Yeah, they don't have almond milk at gas stations, Sam."

"See? Not the same." Dean chirped, enjoying teaming up with Cas against Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's antics and changed the subject. "We should probably discuss the case in more detail before we arrive."

"What's left to discuss? Couples went missing while banging on their honeymoon. Probably a routine salt and burn of some pissed off ghost."

"Delicately put, jackass." Sam scoffed. "I was thinking, we should discuss your relationship with Cas."

"My what?" Dean's pulse quickened and he internally cursed his body for betraying him.

"Your relationship with Cas. You know, for the case. We need to come up with a back story so that way if someone asks how you met, Cas won't say 'I gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.'"

"That is how we met, though." Cas insisted.

"Dude, you can't just tell people that!"

"We just need to think of a way to twist it, so it sounds normal." Sam explained. "So, for example, Dean could say he met Cas during a bad time in his life and Cas saved him."

"That's putting it lightly," Dean commented. "Cas? Does that work with you?"

"Fine."

"You're grumpy today." Dean observed, meeting Cas' eyes in the rearview mirror.

"I'm not grumpy. I'm tired. And I didn't get my full amount of coffee."

"You drank your whole thermos and half of mine. How much do you normally drink?"

"More than that."

"You have a caffeine addiction, you know that?"

"Well, at least you two already have the bickering of a married couple down." Sam half joked.

Dean rolled his eyes and focused back on the road; lips drawn into a straight line.

"What else do we need to cover?" Cas resigned, breaking the silence that once again settled over the car.

"Length of relationship."

"Ten years." Cas answered easily.

Sam pursed his lips. "Why don't we say you've been together for 5 years, and friends for the first 5. That will make you fit the same profile as the other missing couples a little more closely."

"Jesus, Sam. We'll be fine, we've been in situations like this before."

"I just don't want your cover blown. We have no one else to fill in. We need to discuss what your wedding was like, who proposed, how long you were engaged --"

Dean cut him off with a sharp look. "The wedding was small, just close family and friends. No one proposed, we both talked about it and together we agreed to get married. The engagement was short, less than a year. How's that for our cover?"

"That's great. Cas, did you get all that?"

"Yes. Can we stop and get more coffee now?"

"I thought gas station coffee wasn't good enough for you?"

"It's not. There's a Starbucks at this next exit. I saw a sign."

"Cas, we're not even halfway there yet. Dean's not going to stop yet."

But sure enough, Dean was already turning towards the exit, cataloguing the way Cas' lips turned up at the corner.

The remaining hours of the trip passed rather quickly. Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in tune to his Zeppelin tape, Sam read lore in preparation of the case, and Cas happily watched the passing snow-clad landscape while sipping on his venti coffee.

As they neared the town of Nisswa, the scenery gave way from a frozen landscape with nothing but bare trees and the occasional truck stop to boutique shops, rustic restaurants, and log-cabin-like structures that served as hotels and cafes. As they neared their turn off the highway, Sam requested to be dropped off in town so he could secure a car rental and check into his own hotel. Sam would be interviewing for the seasonal front desk position early the next morning, so he couldn't be seen arriving with Dean and Cas.

"Oh! Before I forget --" Sam paused after stepping out of the Impala and dug around in his bag. He retrieved two gold bands and handed one to Dean and Cas. "Your wedding rings."

Dean slipped his on and scowled at his brother. "Where did you get these?"

"A pawn shop," Sam said sheepishly. "I grabbed them when I went out on a supply run last night. Don't lose them - I'm pretty sure they're actually gold."

"It's probably a knock off and will turn our fingers green."

"No, Sam is right," Cas observed. He held the ring close to his face, carefully scrutinizing it. "It's 24k gold. It's actually quite good quality."

"Thank you, Cas." Sam said pointedly. "You two better get going and check in. I made your reservation under "Smith." I'll be at the resort tomorrow morning for my interview. I made a very persuasive resume so I should be hired no problem. Just keep your phones on you and check in with me occasionally, yeah?"

"I know how to do my job, Sam. Cas and I will get settled in then we'll talk to some of the guests at breakfast tomorrow morning. Don't worry about us. Worry about your interview," Dean said with a wink. "Cas, you've been upgraded to shotgun, let's go."

With that, Sam stepped away from the car, making room for Cas to climb in. "Be careful, guys."

"Yeah, you too," Dean replied. Cas then shut the door and Dean pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the highway. "You ready for this?"

Cas nodded, fidgeting with the gold band on his finger. "We met 10 years ago and started dating 5 years ago. A few months ago, we decided to get married and we had a small wedding with our closest family and friends. Now we're on our honeymoon."

"Yeah, that - that's good."

Dean cautiously glanced over at Cas. His hair was tousled from leaning against the window, with the left side matted down and the right side sticking straight out. He had an air of contentment radiating from him, no doubt from the dangerously high levels of caffeine racing through him. Since becoming human, Cas formed a very dependent relationship with both coffee and sleep. Sleeping became his favorite pastime as he was finally able to experience dreams. However, that meant he would often sleep for the better part of the morning, only begrudgingly getting out of bed when Dean would pound on his door to inform him breakfast, and more importantly coffee, was ready. Even then, Cas would be grumpy until he was halfway through his second cup of coffee.

Dean would never admit it to anyone, but he always enjoyed his morning routine with Cas. Cas would silently sit at the table, watching Dean dish up breakfast. Dean would slide a fully loaded plate of eggs and bacon towards him and watch as he took his first bite. Cas would always groan in appreciation (which okay, maybe Dean enjoyed that part a little too much, but he would never admit to that either) and then Dean would refill Cas's mug. At that point Sam would enter the kitchen, just back from his run and openly making a disgusted face at the heaping pile of bacon on Dean's plate. Ignoring him, Dean would sit next to Cas, and Cas would scoot closer to Dean, soaking in his body heat due to the endless cold draft in the bunker. That's the only reason Dean would lean back into him. No other reason, whatsoever, regardless of the knowing look on Sam's face.

Dean ended his train of thought there and signaled for the coming turn which featured a large stone sign with "Grand View Lodge" neatly printed on it. The road was illuminated by string lights and lanterns along it and Dean could see cabins in the trees along the road, with warm yellow lights illuminating the darkness around them. The Impala's headlights shone on a sign directing them towards the main lodge for check-in. The resort grounds seemed beautiful and very quiet. Dean could understand why it was a popular destination for newlyweds. The cold winter air made the glowing cabins seem all the cozier. He could imagine the resort in the summer, filled with families and children running towards the lake with sunscreen and beach towels in tow. It would be quite the opposite than it is now, in mid-December with below zero temps and not a single person in sight.

The first sign of life they saw was the dozen cars parked outside of the main lodge for check in, otherwise no one was out of their cabins. "It's going to be hard to talk to the guests when it's this cold. No one will want to leave their cabin." Dean frowned.

"Sam said there's an optional itinerary over the weekend for all of the guests. We'll have to sign up for some activities so we can interview them."

Dean sighed. "As long as it involves free food, I'm in." He put the car in park and traded the warmth for the frigid cold. It was a sharp cold that hurts your lungs as you breathe it in. It was the kind of cold that you don't spend time in unless you have to. Dean pulled the jacket tight against him and motioned for Cas to follow him inside.

The main lodge was beautiful. There was no other way to describe it. The interior was covered in dark wood, with large leather couches set in front of a roaring stone fireplace. A small gift shop was off to the side and there were large rustic chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Dean could hear silverware clattering and subdued conversation which hinted to the presence of a restaurant down the hall. The front desk was near the doors and they quickly approached to check in.

"Good evening," The receptionist beamed. Her name tag identified her as Brenda. "Welcome to Grand View Lodge. Have either of you stayed with us before?"

"No, Ma'am," Dean responded, leaning against the desk.

"Well, welcome!" She said cheerfully. Dean could already anticipate that she and Sam will get along perfectly once he’s hired. "Here's a map of the resort grounds for your reference. It shows all of our cabins and the four restaurants we have on site. You can dine in or order room service. All of that information is on the back of the map. Now, can I get the name your reservation is under?"

"Dean Smith."

Brenda typed in the name and clicked a few times then looked up at Dean and Cas grinning. "You should have mentioned you were on your Honeymoon! Congratulations, love birds!" Dean felt his face heat up and avoided eye contact with Cas. 'Minnesota Nice' was very real and it was making Dean very uncomfortable.

"Thank you," Dean choked out. "Could we get our keys now? We just had a really long drive and we're tired."

"Oh, of course! I don't want to delay your honeymoon activities," she stated not-so-subtly. She opened a drawer and handed Dean two key cards. Then she grabbed their resort map and circled their cabin number.

"Do you have a list of activities you offer?" Cas questioned.

"Oh! Yes! This weekend we offer both wine and bourbon tasting, depending on your preferences. We also offer couples' cooking classes, and our spa is open for couples' massages. I see you’re staying for a week so here's a pamphlet of all the activities we're offering this month," She explained as she handed over a brochure. "We also have an ice rink which is open until 8pm and free to all guests."

Cas opened his mouth to assumingely ask a question that would only drag out the check-in process, so Dean interrupted him.

"Great, thank you. We appreciate your help," He then grabbed Cas by the hand and pulled him back into the cold.

"She seemed nice," Cas observed.

"Too chipper. Sam will love her."

Cas laughed at that. It was the kind of laugh that shows his perfectly white teeth and makes his eyes slightly crinkle. It was the kind of laugh that was Dean's absolute favorite.

Dean glanced at the map, noting where to drive to get to their cabin. It appeared to be a short drive from the main lodge. He started the car and turned back onto the gravel road they entered on. Following the signs, they were led along a winding road towards the south end of the grounds, where the now frozen lake is located. The trees were dense, and the cabins were growing sparser as they continued along the road. At last, they pulled up to a quaint log cabin that matched the number on their keys. The cabin had large windows and a wrap-around porch that would be perfect to utilize in the summer and fall. The porch light was on, illuminating the front yard which was littered with large pine trees.

He put the Impala in park, and they grabbed their bags out of the backseat. The night was still and silent. There were no lights except for those on the porch. A large expanse of stars and sky nearly took Dean’s breath away. Growing up, Dean would always take solace in the night sky littered with millions of stars. With the ever-constant change of living on the road, the stars were always there. When John would drink too much or be gone too long on a hunt thereby forcing Dean to parent Sam, he would step outside of their usual run-down motel and take a deep breath, taking in the stars. As they got older and Sam’s nerd tendencies began to develop, he would tell Dean all about the constellation. They’d sit on the sidewalk with their backs against the brick motel and Sam would just talk. He’d point out the shapes in the stars and talk about the history and the namesakes behind each one. It was a most welcoming distraction from the constant shit in Dean’s life.

Even now, as he looks up at the brilliant set of stars unhindered by city lights, Dean can’t help but feel grateful for where his life is. Sure, his kid is basically God. And he’s helplessly in love with his best friend who was an angel but is now a human and probably doesn’t feel the same way about him and now he has to pretend to be his husband at a romantic resort, which can only go poorly. Then there’s the fact that his mom was dead, then she was alive, and then she was dead again. Really, just piles and piles of trauma that he’s had to deal with. But God, Dean still feels lucky. Because he has a family. He has Sam, Cas, Jack, Eileen, Jody and the girls. During those years growing up he always assumed he’d be dead before living a life like this.

A gust of wind whips across the yard, stinging all exposed skin which pulls Dean out of his spiraling thoughts. Cas is mirroring Dean from moments ago, also gazing up at the night sky. “I’ve been alive for so long yet the beauty and wonders of this life will never cease to amaze me.” Cas simply states, as if that wasn’t the most poetic shit to ever come out of someone’s mouth.

At a loss for words, Dean clasps Cas’ shoulder and leads him through the snow and into the cabin. He unlocks the door and welcomes the immediate warmth radiating from inside the cabin. The cabin is incredibly cozy. The walls are a dark wood, with leather sofas next to a large electric fireplace and a big fluffy rug. The kitchen is off of the living room, which on a normal occasion would be perfect to cook some proper meals. Then there is a beautiful wooden table in the dining room with dim lighting that would be perfect for a romantic meal. Dean cut off that dangerous train of thought before it went anywhere that made this situation even more complicated.

Speaking of complicated, Cas was no longer by Dean’s side. Frowning, he walked down the hallway that led towards the bathroom and bedroom. It was in the bedroom that he found Cas hovering in the doorway and oh.

Oh.

There was a king size bed in the center of the room with rose petals scattered over it. An ice bucket with a bottle of champagne rested in the center of the bed with a box of chocolate next to it.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Cas looked at Dean questioningly. “Who?”

“Sam. He told them it was our honeymoon! Then this happened.” He gestured at the array of items in the room.

“I see no problem with this behavior. They needed to know we were on our honeymoon for the sake of the case. And we got free champagne and sweets. Usually, you’re all about the free stuff.”

Dean sighed. “No, you’re right. It’s just – never mind. It’s late and I’ve been driving all day. Guess I’m tired.” Cas just nodded and set his bag down. “So, uh –” Dean started, rubbing his hand over his face. “Want me to take the couch tonight? We can switch off every night or something.”

“Dean,” He sighed. ”You said yourself that you’re getting too old to be sleeping on couches and pull outs. Hence, the memory foam in the bunker. Besides, we’re playing the role of a newlywed couple this weekend. We should probably keep up with appearances and not make it seem like we’re already sleeping in separate beds like unhappy middle-aged couples who are too stubborn to admit they need a divorce.”

Dean barked out a surprised laugh. He loves when Cas goes on his weird tangents. “Yeah, okay Cas. That bed is huge, so it shouldn’t be a problem anyway.”

Cas just nodded and began digging around in his duffel bag. Meanwhile, Dean removed the ice bucket with champagne from the bed and set it on the dresser. Then he brushed off as many rose petals as he could, determined to clear the bed of any romantic connotation. When he was satisfied, he began stripping out of his jeans and flannel. It was a long day of driving and his body was no longer accustomed to sitting for so long, so he was ready for bed at this point.

Dean stopped mid-action, catching sight of Cas doing the same. Cas removed his jeans and then lifted his shirt over his head. Dean swallowed, trying to

tear his eyes away from his best friend’s body but holy shit – Cas is toned. As he bent over to put his discarded clothes back in his bag, the muscles in his back and legs jumped out. His golden skin was completely on display and as a result Dean’s brain was short circuiting. Panicking, he grabbed his toothbrush and locked himself in the bathroom as an attempt to get his breathing and body back under control.

So much for uncomplicated.

[grittyreadsfic]

what’s up, everyone, i accidentally got into my mcstrome feels, so please have this rec list, lovingly crafted and dubbed sometimes a mcstrome fic can be something so personal of a bunch of my favorite mcstrome fics (minus ones i’ve posted about recently, like  burn the straw house down by theundiagnosable and  you have always been my ticket home by iwantthemtostay)

we are the ones (the ones you left behind) by idday

summary: So, like.

Dylan's having a shit year.

(It probably makes him an asshole, the fact that it makes him feel better that Jack is, too. And yet.)

why i love it: something that you don’t see enough in any media, is stories where the fwb/couple fake dating/etc aren’t the endgame. and i think that’s a super overlooked narrative that shows the complexities of human relationships. this fic is a great example of that, and also jack’s characterization? dylan’s complicated feelings towards connor? the way sometimes friendships aren’t easy anymore, but still worth it? all golden

i've never been a natural (all I do is try, try, try) by iwantthemtostay

summary:   In June 2015 Dylan gets drafted fourth overall by the Toronto Maple Leafs, in August his boyfriend breaks up with him. In July 2026 said ex signs with the Leafs. In the months that follow they work things out.

why i love it: you’d think that with my deep hatred for john tavares (life is only suffering when you’re an isles fan who ends up also loving the leafs) that this premise would just make me mad but honestly? it’s perfect. i love how the author kept dylan’s early years as rough, the way we see connor and dylan rebuilding (first their friendship, because that’s what’s most important) and how it’s so realistic, and the way that you get to see all the support systems dylan has in place and the way those dynamics just shine. absolutely wonderful, and there’s a podfic!

our ribs get tough by linebrawl ( @roopehntz​ )

summary: Connor’s face stares him down from a banner two hundred feet tall, and Dylan can’t do this. He can’t be stuck in a city that’d taken everything away from him.

why i love it: god, i just. you ever just find a fic that’s exactly what you’re looking for, like, tone, plot, ship, it’s all what you wanted to read like someone plucked it straight from your brain? that’s how i felt about this fic when it was posted and tbh i’ve probably read it like, six times since then. it’s just so beautifully written and makes me feel so much 

chasing a high, but it was always you, by nolanpatty

summary: Dylan get's traded to the Oilers when the Return to Play is ratified and has to spend the rest of the 2020 season as an Edmonton Oiler, alongside his ex Connor McDavid.

why i love it: listen ! listen !  i love trade fics more than anything else in the world (they’re fun! sometimes they hurt! there’s a lot of narrative potential!) and as a mcstrome fan, the idea of them playing together again? my poor heart can’t take it. i think it’s also one of those fics that does a great job of portraying the way emotions are tricky and complicated and messy and things aren’t always cut and dry.

the timing of you by jamesvanriemsdick ( @jamesvanriemsdick​ )

summary: “I need to let this go,” Dylan says, because he’s known for a few weeks now that he does. It’s pointless, this pining, and he might be in love with Connor, but he’s starting to fall in love with himself, too, and that’s more important, right now.

why i love it: oof. just. this is one of the first mcstrome fics i ever read and it just. struck a chord in me and made me so, so, so emotional. it’s a college au, which i love, and the focus of it isn’t really the romance, but to me, it’s about healing and finding a home for yourself and the families we choose and i’m just. it’s just a lot, and so lovely. 

the next next one by yourblues

summary: No, Dylan has not picked up a copy of the book, nor does he plan to anytime soon. No, he has not talked to Connor about it. He hasn’t talked to Connor about anything in a long time, but the media does not need to know that.

why i love it: personally i think there should be more fics where retired hockey players write autobiographies that are essentially love letters to someone they played with because it’s such a phenomenal premise. this fic is all you could want out of a future mcstrome fic, and it really just exists rent free in my mind always (one time someone posted two of the tags and the word count and i immediately knew they were talking about this fic, which says a lot about how much i’ve read it)

what a life, what a life, you and I, by heartequals (savvygambols) summary: “We’re domestic partners now, that’s basically it,” says Connor.

“Whoa,” says Dylan. “I got married and I wasn’t even paying attention.”

Dylan is assigned a final project with Connor and he catches feelings very quickly about it.

why i love it: college au! idiots to lovers! the over romanization of group projects! (this last one is something so unrealistic but brings me great joy, like coffee shop aus as a former barista) it’s honestly just a sweet fic that warms my little jaded soul and makes me smile every time i read it

[frncs]

⌠ ERIC OSBORNE, 21, NON-BINARY, HE/THEY ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, FRANCES ‘FRANK’ LAVOIE! according to their records, they’re a FIRST year, specializing in MACGYVER SURVIVAL SKILLS AND NAVIGATION & COVERT OPS; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of oversized clothing stitched with thick yarn and littered with cat hair, the snap of stretched balloons before they’re blown and a post-nap dazed gaze. when it’s the (virgo)’s birthday on 09/01/1999, they always request CORN DOGS from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ tasha, 22, she/her, est ⍀ 

well well well .. id meant to bring another kid ages ago .. n then jus didn’t because the personality part was/is givin me grief FGJH so pls 🐻  w me n replies as i figure out his voice . also .. haven’t even written out my intro yet . . bt ik it’s gna be long apologies , pls feel free to just read the tldr 

tw: death, accidental murder, grief.

TLDR: grew up fairly well off to spy parents who didn’t want him to be part of that world but apart from that didn’t care what he did with his life otherwise. he often questioned whether they really cared for him at all (tht quote thts like .. if u love me u love me in a way i cant understand). luna’s his best friend, and he’s obsessed with his aunt and uncle’s circus that stops into town every year. life is pretty great until luna ‘dies’ at 16. he joins the circus and becomes a clown, he loves performing with all his heart. at 18, his aunt and uncle arm him with a credit card and tell him to go travel, he assumes it’s because they just want him to explore the world. visits europe for six months and asia for six months, enjoys it but misses the circus terribly, busks a lot. they actually send him away to distance him from the shady happenings that are starting to boil within the company. he comes back in time for the halloween switch-a-roo, where everyone rotates their act (so he does the magic show as a clown). he’s part of a set-up that results in him accidentally killing a person and sawing them in half. his aunt and uncle call his parents, who reluctantly send him to prep school for a little less than a year to heighten his chances of getting into a spy school for protection, which he does. dedicated to working hard and getting a high paying job to pay for reparations for the circus and do a massive overhaul of the way it runs, because it’s like his second home.

grew up in waterford ct, to one retired spy parent ( his mom ) and his dad who works with the government and is aware of espionage. his mom straight up didn’t have a good time, no one really talks about it, he has no idea what happened, doesn’t know if his dad knows either but it’s clear that they don’t want him going into the spy world. 

he feels like he’s always been treated like an adult for as long as he remembers, not in the sense that they burdened him with responsibility, but that they didn’t seem to care what he did one way or another. the best way i can describe it is that his parents had the same energy as a character in a yorgos lanthimos film, very dry and lifeless, like they’re on autopilot. he’d try and cuddle his mom and she’d just pat him on the head. he couldn’t really rebel against them and as long as he went to school and got good grades they appeared un-phased about what he got up to, a very mind your own business dynamic shared between family. 

he didn’t get up to a whole lot, he was a bit of an outsider. didn’t make friends very easily because he didn’t know how to let himself go around people, even though he’d sometimes be excited but wouldn’t know how to show it. definitely had that reserved temperament ingrained into him from his parents. 

he did have one friend who knew him inside and out, luna <3 who was also his neighbour. their demeanours were a perfect match but also he’d find himself getting so excited and wanting to tell her about his day or listen to hers, or read with her or play hopscotch or send her secret notes with his flashlight at her window. 

there was one other thing that got him terribly excited and it’s when his aunt and uncle’s traveling circus would stop in. he’d go every single day for the week and a half it was there. his parents would arrange one dinner with them and consider their familial duty done, other than that they remain out of contact with them. his aunt and uncle tell him that he’s always welcome to join, and he holds them to it. his parents say do whatever you want, just graduate high school first. 

his whole world kinda crumbles when luna ‘dies’ at sixteen. he feels immense guilt over it thinking he should’ve done something about that skeevy bf of hers...this also coincides with one of his mom’s friends dying (harlowe’s mom) which makes his mom act even weirder so he fast tracks his plans to join the circus and joins at sixteen, doesn’t graduate high school. i envision the convo btw him and his dad went like: 

“dad, i’m joining the circus.”

“graduate high school first.”

“no.”

“okay son, i can’t control you.”

the company welcomed him with open arms and he tried out everything, acrobatics, sharpshooting, but wasn’t particularly talented at anything. except, clownery. because messing up is commended, noting how all the kids would laugh at him trying basic magic tricks. so his aunt and uncle got him into a clown costume lickety-split. performing brought him a lot of joy through the grief like he’s an entirely different person when performing, insert that one cursed joker picture: put on a happy face. 

because the owners were his aunt and uncle he was treated exceptionally well and he was very oblivious to the malpractice that went on behind the scenes. the circus had a whole sector dedicated to pickpocketing (other kids who he just saw as friends were often runaways from broken homes who didn’t have anywhere else to go and earned their wages by stealing from customers), and serious kerfuffle with pay, probably some extortion going on, just general yuckery. he vaguely knew it was happening but was kind of like it is what it is kinda standpoint. heavily inspired by the circus barney and clint barton grew up in reffed in the 2015 run of all-new hawkeye.

a couple years later his aunt and uncle give him a credit card and tell him to go travel for a bit. he does because why not but misses the circus terribly. he spends six months in europe and six months in asia, busks as a clown a lot and but his on-the-road/home sickness never really fades.

he returns super excited, ready to clown around but it’s evident tensions are just really high between the workers but they’re still all super sweet to him because he’s very sweet even if he’s oblivious. halloween comes around which is his favourite time of year because they do this thing called the switch-a-roo, where everyone switches what act they’re doing, bicycle acts do contortionist acts, lion tamers do rope walkers, magicians do animal taming and clowns do magic acts. it’s just one big laugh because obviously most of them are cross-trained, but it’s meant to be more of a comedy thing and their mess-ups are to an extent choreographed but also capitalizes on the scariness because they hype up the fact that they have no idea what they’re doing.

he’s doing his magic act, messing up all the magic tricks showing all his cards, and his last act is the sawing someone in half, so the assistant comes out in the box, really selling it like omg a clown !!! being like stop !!! you don’t know what you’re doing !!! and frances is like playing along with the act, as he was told that the gag would be when they split the boxes they’ll have some practical effects to make it look like he’d accidentally actually cut the assistant in half. fumbling with a very real chainsaw, he does the choppity-chop which takes a bit more muscle than he thought it would and the assistant screams a lot then pretends to pass out. anyways it wasn’t an act he accidentally cut someone in half, and they die.

EXTRA CLOWN LORE THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT FEEL FREE TO SKIP!

i envisioned that worker negotiations had been going on for a while and had kinda reached a stalemate where nothing was happening, and there were rumblings about frances being off travelling and spending a shit ton of money where it could’ve been put towards the workers and the circus and his aunt and uncle would hear threats thrown towards frances which is why they wanted him to stay away/go travelling for a while. the girl who was killed did so knowingly, and died a martyr (and also left frances a note explaining things and how she was sorry that he was the one that had to kill her). the whole thing was executed with a lot of thought: how it would affect frances and how it would be seen as a personal attack against his aunt and uncle - and that while the act seemingly went off without a hitch and the public didn’t suspect a thing, the workers have leverage to make it public (which ideally they don’t want b/c a lot of the workers are pretty disenfranchised or have criminal records and truthfully don’t want the end all being the circus closing b/c they do love their job just not the conditions). his aunt an uncle are in a bit of a jam because they need an investor but can’t get that because of shady hiring practices in the first place, and their greed definitely exacerbated the problem.

after that happens his aunt and uncle immediately call his parents, who despite never wanting him to go into the spy industry believe that it would be the safest option for him, and enrol him in prep school (which he attends for less than a year) so that he has more of a chance getting into gallagher the following year, which, with the right strings pulled happens. 

now he’s dedicated to giving it his all so he can get a really high paying job and do a complete overhaul of the company and make a lot of reparations that should’ve been made years and years ago. 

personality

- very patient, a slow talker and more of a listener.  - idealistic, in the sense that he’s always been surrounded by people either in poverty of vulnerable, and despite being a caring guy, adopted that kind of mind your own business mentality his parents had. even his desire to get rich in order to save the circus is a very unrealistic plan or at the very least would take a very long time to achieve.  - tired, i know it’s not a personality trait but i’m making it one, he’s a little bit dazed, not gloomy per se but like he’s woken up from a nap and needs to warm up a bit before being a functioning part of society. but that’s like all his interactions. has the gait of like a drunken kung fu master, very limber.  

headcanons

has slight imposter syndrome about clowning, knows he’s great and always got a standing ovation but can’t help but wonder how much nepotism played a role in her being the main clown in the company.

planning on hiding out in her room during halloween, but is very bittersweet about it, because he thinks that halloween is one of the only times that people are happy because they get to be anyone they want and has found that most people don’t want to be themselves.

has an overweight, old cat which he’s had since he joined the circus and has been everywhere with him. it’s name is cat. he also has an album on his phone of all the strays he’s ever met, which is a lot being on the road. he named all of them but they never got to come with him.

sleeps a lot, probably has some sort of chronic sleep disorder, but enjoys the sweet release from life so he doesn’t question it. has no shame and will sleep anywhere and does.

loves making balloon animals, was his favourite thing to do at the circus. keeps a jewelry dish full of unpumped balloons on his bedside table. also a big reader, and hoarder of anything that can fit in a small travel notebook (leaves, ticket stubs, pictures, anything). 

wanted connections: i’ll update my actual google docs in the coming days but people he met while traveling for a year, anyone with pets wanting to have a pet playdate (cat’s not too active but he could use some company), someone who catches him crying (he cries a lot haven’t peeped his full chart but i can sense the water energy from miles away), people who wake him up when he falls asleep in class, in the common rooms, outside, flirty flirts, someone who’s been to the circus, someone who clowns him about being a clown and he gets super angry, really anything, i’m terrible at coming up with connections i get such a thrill from mundane relations i’m boring <3

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Nachtmusik Chapter Twenty-Six

A Little Night Music (Eine Kleine Nachtmusik) Chapter Twenty-Six: Synchronicity

It was the middle of June, and the weather was perfect. All Adrien wanted to do was lie out on the deck of the Liberty, basking in the luxurious warmth of the sun and the soft strumming of Luka’s guitar.

Luka was more than happy to have him. After all, Adrien was good company: quiet in a companionable way when words weren’t needed but always ready with some witty retort or astute piece of insight whenever Luka did feel like talking.

Their musical collaborations were fulfilling in a way Luka had never experienced with another musician. It was as if Adrien instinctively knew where Luka was going with a piece, and whenever Luka got stuck, Adrien always had the perfect suggestion to get him out of his creative slump. Adrien was a well of inspiration, a genuine muse.

After two and a half months of friendship, Luka found that he’d quickly moved from an affectionate crush on Adrien to deep devotion and adoration.

Adrien was fast becoming a staple in all aspects of Luka’s life from family dinners to evenings spent cuddling and watching movies to jam sessions and lying about the houseboat to one-on-one basketball and teaching Adrien to do chores. Adrien was filling up the nooks and crannies of Luka’s life.

Even when they weren’t together, Adrien was always on Luka’s mind. Luka would be out and about and see something in a shop window that made him think of the other teen. Someone would say something funny, and Luka would later text it to Adrien so that they could share the joke.

Adrien stayed in close contact too. Luka periodically got texts throughout the day, even if Adrien was busy, letting Luka know that he wasn’t ever far from Adrien’s thoughts either.

It felt so good to be that in sync with someone, so on the same wavelength.

Nothing had become official yet, and Luka wasn’t one hundred percent sure that Adrien viewed things between them in a romantic light…but the relationship was going well, so Luka decided to take the next step. He invited Adrien to meet and hang out with his friends.

Luka started with a small group from the music program at his university and then introduced Adrien to some of his classmates from the Literature Department. Luka took Adrien to a few of his concerts and let him mingle with his bandmates.

Adrien was a little shy at first with new people but still very friendly. Once a conversation started to flow, though, Adrien held his own well, often talking more than Luka himself.

It was reassuring to see his prospective partner getting along with the other people in Luka’s world. It made him wonder if soulmates really did exist because Adrien just…fit. In less than three months, Adrien had slipped into the grooves of Luka’s life to the point where Luka couldn’t remember how things had been before Adrien and couldn’t imagine things without him.

One Saturday at the end of the school year, a group from the Literature Department was congregating on the Liberty to review course material for the exam. It was during a time when Adrien was typically over, so Luka told him that he was free to join them but needn’t feel obligated, as the class content might be a little boring for someone not studying Literature.

Adrien surprised Luka by showing up anyway.

Luka’s classmates took turns teaching Adrien about different aspects of the pieces, authors, and literary movements that they had studied, and Adrien eagerly asked questions, giving the students a very thorough review that turned out to be objectively better and subjectively more fun than simply reviewing notes and passages from their texts like they had initially planned.

“You’re really interested in this, aren’t you?” Eugénie chuckled, giving Adrien a fond nudge. “Are you thinking about going into Literature in uni?”

Adrien blushed sheepishly, shaking his head. “No, not really. I mean, I love reading, but I wouldn’t want to formally study it.”

“Well, you fooled us,” Gérard laughed. “You seem like you’re soaking this up like a sponge. What’s up with all of the probing questions, then? You just helping us study?”

Adrien’s cheeks darkened further.

He shrugged, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he smiled. “Well, it is interesting…on top of being a good way to learn more about what Luka’s studying. I want to understand so that he can talk about this stuff with me without having to dumb it down.”

“Aww,” Hélène cooed. “Luka, your boyfriend is so sweet! Thierry never takes an interest in the things I care about. You’re so lucky,” she half-pouted.

Luka’s cheeks burst into flame like embers finding dry brush. “Well,” he hedged, “he is sweet, and I am lucky, but…we’re not dating.”

“Wait. Seriously?” Eugénie raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Why not?”

Luka’s blush deepened as he averted his eyes, glancing longingly at the guitar propped against the wall by the drum set. His fingers twitched in agitation as dozens of possible answers to that question swirled around his head: because Adrien isn’t interested in guys, because what could Adrien Agreste possibly see in me, because he’s out of my league, because I don’t want to make things awkward and ruin our dynamic by asking him, because I don’t think he’s ready, because I’m afraid of messing it up and losing his friendship, because he’s still in love with someone else…

Adrien instantly picked up on how uncomfortable Luka was with the topic and rushed to take some of the pressure and attention off of his friend. “Does anyone want more of the chocolate lava cake?”

Gérard took mercy on Luka and helpfully raised his hand. “I could definitely go for seconds.”

Adrien scooped up Gérard’s plate and smiled sweetly at the girls. “How about drinks? Can I get anyone a refill?”

“Uh…I’ll just take water, please,” Hélène awkwardly replied.

“Me too, please,” Eugénie added uncertainly.

“Me three!” Gérard jumped in, even though his soda was still half full.

“Luka, could you please give me a hand?” Adrien requested with a practiced smile.

Luka readily acquiesced, following Adrien across the room to the kitchen.

Adrien set about cutting Gérard another slice of lava cake while Luka got out the bottle of Evian from the fridge and poured three glasses.

“Sorry for the misunderstanding,” Luka whispered so quietly that his lips barely moved. He trusted that Adrien’s sharpened hearing would pick up the words.

Adrien turned to rest a hand on Luka’s arm, giving it a bolstering squeeze. “Honestly, it doesn’t bother me,” Adrien assured, voice hushed but strong. “I mean, I do kind of act like your boyfriend, so it’s not like it’s a far-out conclusion to come to. I’m sorry, Luka.”

Adrien’s eyebrows curved in remorse and guilt, taking Luka completely by surprise.

“P5, what do you have to be sorry for?” he wondered, feeling like the ship beneath his feet had suddenly stopped rocking, leaving him off balance.

“Always hanging on you and teasing and flirting,” Adrien whispered back, brow furrowed, bottom lip jutting out slightly. “I didn’t think about how it might give other people the wrong idea. I promise I’ll tone it down when we’re in public going forward.”

If Luka were being totally honest, he would have to admit that Adrien’s affections were a guilty pleasure he savored. Other people seeing non-platonic motives in Adrien’s behaviour put Luka over the moon because that meant that he wasn’t just hallucinating or reading too much into things. It meant that maybe he had a chance. He was loath to lose a single touch, a single flirty line, a single puckish grin.

“You don’t have to do that,” Luka hastily countered, voice a little loud and high in pitch.

Adrien’s guilty expression turned into a puzzled one. “Are you sure? Luka, I saw how uncomfortable you were.”

“I was uncomfortable because I thought the topic made you uncomfortable,” Luka fibbed. “I’m used to straight people assuming that just because I’m bi, I’m automatically interested in every other guy in my age range. Besides…” Luka looked back down at the water glasses. “…it’s really flattering that someone would think you’d date me, so…” Luka cleared his throat. “…so, you don’t have to change anything. You’re perfect the way you are.”

“Thanks,” Adrien replied, but he was still frowning. “I’ll be touched about that in a moment, but, first…why did you say you’d be flattered if someone thought I’d date you as if I wouldn’t date you? Why wouldn’t I date you?”

Luka’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

Meanwhile, Eugénie, Hélène, and Gérard were straining their ears to hear while, at the same time, trying very hard to look like they were studying their notes intently.

“Luka, you’re wonderful,” Adrien supplied when he saw that his friend was at a loss for words. “Anyone would be thrilled to date you.”

Luka wanted to say, “even you?”, but he was afraid of the answer. Part of him thought this sounded like confirmation that he should make his romantic interest known. Another part suspected a trap, like Luka would confess, but then Adrien would say something like, “oh. No. Sorry. When I said, ‘anyone would be thrilled to date you’, I didn’t mean me”.

“You’re the most perfect guy I’ve ever met,” Adrien continued, trying to build up Luka’s self-esteem.

“I’m not perfect,” was the first thing that Luka could get his wits together enough to say.

Adrien rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say you were perfect. I said you were the ‘most perfect’, as in ‘most close to perfect’, so don’t talk down about yourself, okay? You’re always telling me that, so practice what you preach, okay?”

Luka nodded, a fond smile slowly blooming on his lips. “Thanks.”

Adrien winked, grabbing one of the water glasses as well as Gérard’s plate. “We good?”

Luka’s grin widened as he picked up the remaining two glasses and followed Adrien back over to the others. “Yeah. We’re good, Angel.”

“Okay!” Adrien called cheerfully as he set the plate and glass down in front of Gérard. “Someone explain Magic Realism to me. I don’t get it.”

The group reluctantly let go of the relationship drama and got back to work.

 Eugénie, Hélène, and Gérard left a little over an hour later, brains successfully picked clean by Adrien.

Luka began collecting the dirty dishes, but Adrien shooed him away, insisting. “I’ll clean up. You go get your guitar and decompress.”

Luka blinked at Adrien. “Decompress?”

“Mmhm,” Adrien confirmed, gathering the forks before stacking the plates they’d eaten cake off of. “That thing you do after you’ve been around other people for too long.”

Adrien looked up and into Luka’s aquatic eyes. “Because being around other people for too long stresses you out, doesn’t it? So get your guitar and decompress. Either sit in here or leave your door open so I can listen to you play while I tidy up, okay?”

So stunned was Luka by the fact that Adrien had been paying close enough attention to identify one of Luka’s stressors and corresponding coping mechanism, that he actually went and got his guitar, sat on the wrap-around couch, and began to play instead of arguing and insisting on helping Adrien clean.

It was ten minutes and one clean plate later that Adrien spoke up.

“I’m around an awful lot, aren’t I?”

“Mmhm,” Luka agreed, eyes closed, still wrapped up in the song taking form at his fingertips.

“…Do you get stressed out when you’re around me too long?” Adrien wondered tentatively, half-afraid of the answer.

“You don’t count as another person,” Luka replied automatically, the filter between his brain and his mouth down for maintenance.

Adrien’s eyebrows danced in confusion for a second before Luka added, “You’re an extension of me.”

Adrien hummed softly, pleased with the response.

Luka opened his eyes and blinked, what he had said finally catching up. “Uh…I mean…”

“It’s okay,” Adrien assured, rinsing the second plate and then reaching for the towel to dry it. “I know what you mean.”

Luka continued to stare. “You…do?”

Adrien nodded. “That’s how I feel when I’m fighting beside Ladybug.”

Luka’s heart sank, his fingers landing a little too high on the strings and creating a dissonant chord.

Ladybug. Of course.

In his disappointment, Luka almost missed the way Adrien’s cheeks began to color.

Adrien paused, gripping the plate in his hands as he looked down with an embarrassed smile, continuing, “…and…”

Luka looked back up, breath catching.

“…how I feel when we’re making music together or lying up on the deck at night talking…or even when we’re just sitting in silence. It feels like you’re an extension of me too.” Adrien set the plate aside and grabbed another as he laughed softly. “It’s actually a relief to hear you say you feel the same way.”

“Yeah,” Luka whispered, in a bit of a daze. “Yeah. I thought it was just me.”

Adrien shrugged. “Nope. Looks like we’re in this together.”

Luka hummed happily, going back to the song he’d been playing and transitioning into G major. “Glad to know.”

The conversation slipped into a comfortable lull, filled by Luka’s music, the clink of dishes, and the swoosh of soapy water.

It didn’t take long for Adrien to get the negligible number of plates and cups clean, dry, and put away, and then he joined Luka back on the couch, closing his eyes and sinking into the notes.

The song eventually found its natural conclusion, and Adrien applauded.

“You need to adapt that one for one of your bands,” he encouraged. “There were some real gems to be polished in there.”

“Yeah?” Luka chuckled, opening his eyes to study Adrien’s earnest expression.

Adrien nodded enthusiastically before hooking one arm over the back of the couch and leaning in to rest his chin on top. “Definitely.”

“All right. I’ll pick it apart and put it back together again later and see what happens.” With a pleased grin, Luka turned back to his guitar, starting with a new melody.

He fiddled around and worked on developing the idea for a few minutes before picking up on a subtle shift in Adrien: the purse of his lips, the slight crease of his brow, the set of his jaw, the cloudy look in his eyes, the slightly heavier feeling to his presence.

Luka tipped his head to the side, focusing his attention away from the guitar. “Something on your mind, P5? You look like you’re puzzling through something.”

Adrien smiled sheepishly, straightening up on the couch with a shrug of nonchalance. “Just…you.”

“Me?” Luka echoed.

Adrien nodded. “Lately, as you’ve been inviting me to hang out with your other friends, I’ve kind of noticed something.”

Luka’s eyebrow cocked slightly.

“You act differently around them,” Adrien answered reluctantly.

The bottom dropped out of Luka’s stomach like an elevator car with its cables cut. “Different…in a bad way?”

Adrien hurriedly shook his head. “No, no. Just…different. I mean, I like you better when you’re just with me, but…it’s not a negative difference. You’re just…a lot quieter around other people. You don’t talk much, you look uncomfortable more often…I mean, sometimes you joke around with other people, but…it’s not like when it’s just the two of us or when we’re with your family. I was just wondering why the difference.”

Luka gave a little chuckle and looked back at his guitar. “Ah. You’ve discovered my secret. I’m socially awkward and fairly introverted.”

“No, you’re not,” Adrien laughed, completely incredulous.

Luka shrugged. “I am one hundred percent serious.”

“You? Socially awkward?” Adrien scoffed lightly. “Luka, you say the suavest things. You’re always teasing and joking and making me laugh. You’re funny and kind and emotionally sensitive. You always know what to say. How am I supposed to believe that you of all people are social awkward?”

Luka smiled sheepishly and shrugged again. “Well, I’m glad you think so, but…look at the evidence. You’re the one who said I’m different around other people. Different how so?”

Adrien frowned, considering before he responded, “…Quiet. Withdrawn…maybe a little shy. Not at ease. It’s not a constant thing. I mean, sometimes you’re totally fine, but…other times…” Adrien’s eyebrows pinched together. “…I guess you are kind of awkward in big groups.”

Luka nodded. “Acting ‘normal’ and determining what’s socially acceptable around a bunch of people for an extended amount of time is really draining. It doesn’t come naturally to me.”

“But…” Adrien pursed his lips. “…you’re not like that with me.”

“No,” Luka confirmed with a warm smile. “I feel at ease with you. I rarely have to think about what I’m going to say—what I’m supposed to say. You’re one of the few people I can just be me around. With you, things just fit.”

“Oh,” Adrien breathed, scooting in closer.

He could feel his cheeks burning with pleasure.

“I feel the same way about you,” he whispered, carefully slotting himself in at Luka’s side so that he wouldn’t get in the way of the guitar. He rested his head on Luka’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

Luka let his head tip so that it rested against Adrien’s, Adrien’s hair soft against Luka’s cheek.

“Thanks, Perfect Fifth,” he whispered.

Luka couldn’t be sure that Adrien meant it in a romantic way, but at least Luka knew for sure that they were on the same wavelength. Adrien was still hung up on Ladybug, but, maybe, in another month or two…

Luka should tell him. At the end of the summer, before school started up again, Luka would reevaluate the situation. At the very least, he could make Adrien aware of his feelings, put the ball in Adrien’s court. If Adrien just wanted friendship, fine, but if there was a part of Adrien that did think of Luka in a romantic light…

At the end of the summer, they would see.

[shesawriter39049]

It’s hard for them to speak up though, they are in Korea and could face backlash, they aren’t even American. At least they said something!

'FIRST THINGS FIRST, 

Let's remember this movement is not about BTS or any Idols...it's not...and I hope if you've had time to message me you've had time to go online, or go outside and make a damn difference... 

Now, back to your ask, we differ and that's fine, I think me coming from a political family... my gut tells me it comes down to profit and loss. Morals and Business Ethics...

 It did not take 10 days to type 20 words, which essentially only reworded the main narrative that has already been placed. I'm not mad at that, them keeping it cut and dry left less room for people to dig too deep.... That's press secretary 101 AKA tautology at it's finest...

"Don't say more than the initial narrative, don't leave too many gaps that can be misinterpreted 'yet don't say less than the initial narrative, and finish by adding a few adjectives to make it sound warmer" ;)

However, my point is, we've gotten 6 paragraph essays in hours if a scandal breaks out, so they did not need time to process a statement they needed time to process a game plan. They also needed time to put together a fall back in case something dose go left...I know some of y'all just see it as; The boys, bang, there loving manager...but it’s more than just “family dynamics” 

It took 10 days for them to wager if it was worth it to speak up or not...how much do we lose if we stay quiet and what do we gain if we speak up..you gotta remember BigHit IS A business FIRST! 

The fact that it took so long, the fact that 3 big groups speak up about an hour apart, the companies delivery makes it seem forced, and like they gave into peer pressure. Let's not forget that's an actual job, someone is paid to actually monitor socials and see what the public narrative is. Why do you think BH  has addressed certain things after they trend for a couple days? Because someones looking to see what's worth actually addressing! 

Hmmm... Ignoring a human rights movement days before being involved in an American online virtual grad party? Yeahhh not so much!

I'm rarely on Twit because of drama but due to BLM I've been more active, and as of about Saturday? You couldn't even log onto a BTS/BH post without people spamming it about the movement and the label's silence. Let's also not pretend a huge part of the BLMM gets to change because it's BTS...what we want is for people to NOT  move in silence, we want people to make their voices heard and speak up! So ppl saying "SEE I knew they were doing something behind closed doors" Is irrelevant for what the movement is asking for. 

You can love someone and not literally lick their ass with everything they do or say btw... 

It took 10 days to debate between morals and business...and that's where as a black fan, on the company's level it really makes me feel a type of way. Because that's ALL it came down to....any person in power when you speak up on these types of things you'll  face backlash regardless. So you have to wager morals OR possible profit loss and kickback...and the fact that, that company took so long to pull the trigger makes you question there true feelings not he boys... (Also I’m not implying I think BANG is racist, I’m saying they let business cloud there judgment for longer than I think they should have as big of a company as they are at this point.) 

So yes, the idols.K-rappers and r&b singers that spoke up on their own days after it happened....are still in the same boat as BTS. It doesn't matter if a couple are American born. The bulk of their money, and their company is in Korea,they still have millions of fans from Korea regardless of them being born in America. America is not the one that's keeping them afloat financially...we aren't even with BTS...we don't touch what Asia does! 

I don't doubt the boys sincerity, my issue is not with the boys directly anyway, however since it came upon fans taking fire to their socials the narrative seems tainted IMO....I feel like BigHit handled this poorly as a company. Tbh because it is a sticky subject I don't think the company ever planned to speak up, UNTIL, it reached Korea and other idols and fans started asking...

Regardless of it not being a Korean “issue”, like a couple Kpop artists have said... the genre pulls so much and profits so much off black culture how is it not also their place to speak up?Would you have a rapline without black people??! NOPE

So for me...I would have preferred they just stayed quiet if they felt uncomfortable because now even though I don't question their heart, it doesn't seem genuine, the company ruined the effect for me! NOT THE BOYS, I'm not blaming the boys, tbh Joon was probably the one that said "Ya know we kinda can't keep avoiding this right!?" The minute it hit Korean news last week.... Also BTS don't have as much to lose as some smaller groups and even rookie groups that I've seen speak up, sorry but they don't. These boys have a huge Korean AND American following, they aren't rookies they have weight....when you have groups that aren't as popular, don't have that Western fall back...yet they speak up on their own..then yeah BH felt the pressure to speak up as well.

In conclusion there is no time frame on being a good human, yet, it would've been better if the statement came naturally, and came before people were "Looking" for one. 

That's my point and that's just how I feel and your entitled to disagree, however I wont address THIS particular statement in regards to BTS and black lives matter anymore. But we can discuss other topics within the situation! 

ALSO , IDC who the person is we need to stop giving celebrities gold starts for being good people...or just non-celebs. “At least they spoke up” I mean it’s racial inequality the US is now a big part of there world I’d hope they'd speak up at some point. As well as it’s hard for a lot of pople famous or not famous or not, not every bodies values align with there families..peers..coworkers and sometimes it dose not come out until shit goes down! 

ALSO AGAIN PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU ARE SUPPORTING THE CAUSE!!! THAT SHOULD'VE BEEN THE ONLY REASON YOU WANTED A STATEMENT ANYWAY TO FURTHER AWARENESS THAT HOPEFULLY YOUR HELPING WITH AS WELL! 

[margotverger]

dunno if you're still answering questions + this might be hard to answer but what do you think is the worst aspect of hannibal? (the show not the character lol)

I’m always answering questions if people wanna ask something!

I think like. Hannibal has great roots for characters like all of the characters are different and have strong internal motivations, but sometimes I think (and this is a personal preference) that it became a lot less balanced later on, which is part of why I think it can be weak in some areas. I do think it represents how the narrative itself is shaped by the characters’ (Hannibal and Will) growing obsession with each other, the co-dependence of the narrative, and how everyone else is stuck in that vortex. But I still think, as a writer, characters should still have some semblance of existence outside of it - they can exist in that web and not have every line of dialogue be dependent on it, but revealed through how it affects their relationships and moods. I think Margot and Alana’s relationship was rushed or handled not as elegantly as it could have been, considering how groundbreaking it was for both charactersーAlana was notoriously unromantic and overly psychological and traumatised from her relationship with Hannibal, and Margot was obviously healing for her, and Margot was never allowed to comfortably exist as a lesbian. We never really got to see what it meant for either of them, and I think that severely impacts the level of risk for their relationship now that we know Hannibal will definitely come after them in season four, if the fact they literally fled is any inclination. Hannibal always pays his dues, and he wants Alana’s life and her family, but what does her life mean to her now? How much does she really have to lose? You know?

I also thought season three was a little too slow for my liking. Pazzi is kind of a boring character, and it slows down his arc in season three... I feel like he could have had a bit more fun. Characters are interesting because of their dedication to good or their proximity to darkness or how those things blend and go against each other, but Pazzi (again, in my personal opinion) felt like he was too cut-and-dry. Like, yeah he lost things because of Hannibal, but I think he was too... vanilla. Especially compared to others. He should have became more intense to fit the intensity of the narrative, and all the other characters, especially when he was surrounded by such defining moments. The primary antagonist was Mason at that point, and he’s batshit as a character. Margot and Alana’s romance was established. Alana became devoted to a ruthless vengeance, an intensity of her desire to “save”, making her a sort of feminine Christ-figure, Margot was motivated by freedom, Jack was both vengeful and mourning, Will Graham did a lot of things and even Chiyoh got a Huge Moment wrt her first kill and bringing her into the mix, and Bedelia was playing with her morality every day. Against that backdrop of character motivation and development, minor characters (no matter how doomed) need to match the tone. Dimmond was fun because he was casually amoral but clearly not fit for that world, but he was playful and charming and a parallel to Will (imo he was what people think “dark Will” is). 

So Pazzi not being able to hold up to those characters made his death kind of... whatever, and his scenes were kind of boring. It felt like he was just there to exposit information or reiterate Will’s darkness, kind of a tell-not-show character, with a loose motive thrown in. 

I have complicated feelings about the time-skips and reveal episodes. They kind of slow things down but I also appreciate the messing with time and unravelling, especially with the whole tea-cup and time feeling... like time is repeating, looping, breaking and bending. But it could have been a little snazzier.

And while I do think Abigail was doomed in the frame of the show, she could have been used a little more in between. Like yes it was a great reveal for us, but Hannibal does dramatic irony really well, so sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if we knew Abigail survived and what she was capable of, all the while Will is completely in the dark, and we’re all waiting for that season finale, knowing what’s at stake... maybe it wouldn’t have worked. But I think like, the second episode with Abigail-as-ghost of season three was a great glimpse into a really interesting insight of Abigail’s character. And the flashbacks. Imo murder family was always meant to be a far-fetched fantasy, built on too much projection, and that works, but I feel like we never really got a good grip of why those three all would have worked (or wouldn’t have), since a lot of their dynamics were one-on-one. It still worked, I don’t think it was badly done, though. So idk why I just said all of that. I think it was just kind of lazy to bring Abigail back as shock factor when she could be so much more than that.

In general also I wish the women interacted a bit more lol like I wish a few more episodes passed the Bechdel test. All the women are so complex with such unique relationships to the plot that it would have been so fascinating to see how certain characters interacted (Bedelia/Alana, for example...), that’s one of the reasons why Season 1 felt so strong imo. A good balance of character and character dynamics. Though again I also understand why the narrative went the way it didーit reflected the tone and the relationships. Still. A(n un)girl can dream.

[masqucradings]

hold!  who  goes  there?  why  ,  is  that  𝒄𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒘𝒚𝒏𝒏𝒆  the  𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔  of  𝒓𝒆𝒅  𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑?  they  do  look  𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔  for  a  𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏  of  𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚  -  𝒔𝒊𝒙  years.  don’t  they  call  𝒉𝒆𝒓  the  𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒂𝒏𝒅  𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒕𝒆  𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏  𝒐𝒇  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕?  i’ve  heard  they’re  also  𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅  𝒂𝒏𝒅  𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒚  though.  don’t  take  my  word  for  it  but  they  do  look  an  awful  lot  like  𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆 𝒌𝒐𝒌𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒓.  (  pinterest  /  google  doc  )

BASIC  INFO

NAME  :  cecily  gwynne

PRONUNCIATION  :  ses  -  uh  -  lee   g  -  w  -  ih  -  n

TITLE  :  courtesan  at  the  dovecote  brothel  (  in  actuality  ,  she  is  a  spy  and  assassin  ). 

AGE  :  twenty  -  six

PLACE OF ORIGIN  :  red  keep  ,  elysi

FAMILY MEMBERS  :  her  mother  ,  isolde  ,  and  a  slew  of  aunts  and  cousins  she  left  in  red  keep.  her  father  ,  nicholas  ,  passed  away  when  she  was  young.  her  older  sibling  distanced  themselves  from  the  family  when  they  were  eighteen  (  see  wanted  connections  ).  

PHYSICAL  DESCRIPTION

HEIGHT  :  five  foot  five

HAIR COLOR  :  brown 

EYE COLOR  :  dark  green

GENDER  :  cis  female

BUILD  :  soft  curves  ,  lean  muscle  in  her  arms  and  legs

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES?  :  striking  eyes

ANY HEALTH RELATED ISSUES?  :  not  physically  ,  but  cecily  deals  with  anxiety  sourced  from  her  own  paranoia.  

PERSONALITY

for  a  woman  who  makes  her  wealth  by  offering  her  company  ,  a  coldness  radiates  off  of  cecily  gwynne.  under  her  poise  and  cunning  is  a  woman  desensitized  to  violence  ,  a  stranger  to  warmth.  cecily  works  incredibly  hard  to  sculpt  her  reputation  into  one  that  reflects  seduction  and  mystery  ;  the  queen  of  the  night  ,  not  a  title  to  scoff  at.  those  who  find  themselves  in  her  company  are  entertained  by  a  witty  and  blunt  courtesan.  she  does  not  sugarcoat  things  for  her  regular  clients  and  typically  they  appreciate  her  (  what  appears  to  be  )  honesty.  around  friends  and  at  events  ,  she  carries  some  of  her  courtesan  charm  over  ,  but  she  feels  free  enough  to  embrace  her  dry  sense  of  humor  and  carefully  crafted  insults.  she  likes  the  drama  of  things  and  will  never  say  no  to  indulging  in  her  bad  shopping  habits.    

at  her  core  ,  cecily  feels  hollow.  everything  she  does  is  for  her  family  and  yet  she  is  so  far  away  from  them  that  she  has  no  one  to  anchor  her  to  the  person  she  once  was.  sneaking  along  in  the  shadows  or  aiming  a  knife  at  someone’s  back  is  when  cecily  feels  at  peace  ,  for  at  least  she  has  a  purpose.  she  likes  to  feel  powerful  and  smart  ,  but  her  inflated  ego  has  turned  those  into  weaknesses  ;  for  she  always  thinks  she  has  the  upper hand.  it  is  difficult  for  her  to  maintain  friendships  that  are  deeper  than  superficial  since  her  loyalty  is  hard  won.  

POSITIVE  TRAITS  :  clever  ,  poised  ,  intelligent  ,  charismatic  ,  thoughtful  ,  patient  ,  strategic  ,  captivating  ,  observant.  

NEGATIVE  TRAITS  :  arrogant  ,  indulgent  ,  insensitive  ,  cold  ,  stubborn  ,  untrustworthy  ,  dishonest  ,  dangerous  ,  paranoid.             

ADDITIONAL  INFO

HER  ESTRANGED  SIBLING  :  her  sibling  had  always  disapproved  of  cecily  and  her  mother  ,  especially  their  dabbling  in  low  magic. they  left  the  home  to  pursue  magical  studies  when  they  were  eighteen  and  cecily  has  not  seen  them  since  ,  making  it  almost  ten  years  of  no  contact.  cecily  remembers  them  striving  to  climb  up  the  social  ladder  properly  through  the  magaesterium  and  assumes  that  they  remain  with  them.  for  cecily  ,  her  sibling  is  a  distant  memory  she  tries  to  forget.  there  is  a  deep  seeded  anger  she  stores  just  for  them.  she  resents  them  for  abandoning  their  family  just  because  they  didn’t  like  what  the  gwynnes  did.  the  sibling  is  two  years  older  than  cecily  &  would  be  twenty  -  eight.  

HER  MENTOR  :  they  found  cecily  pickpocketing  in  red  keep  ,  her  fingers  attempting  to  lift  the  pretty  watch  wrapped  around  their  wrist.  they  promised  to  train  her  for  a  life  that  would  lead  to  riches  and  prestige  ,  not  to  mention  her  mother  would  be  taken  care  of.  when  cecily  agreed  ,  she  and  her  mother  were  sent  to  a  remote  farm  where  her  mentor  trained  cecily  and  others  in  the  art  of  espionage  and  killing.  this  person  raised  cecily  out  of  nothing  and  she  owes  them  far  more  than  she  would  like.  they  keep  contact  mostly  through  letters  but  from  time  to  time  ,  cecily  drops  in  on  her  old  home  at  the  farm  to  visit  both  them  and  her  mother.  her  mentor  will  also  stop  by  the  brothel  ,  pretending  to  be  a  client  when  really  they  and  cecily  are  sharing  a  cup  of  tea.  

HER  MARKS  &  CLIENTS  :  nobility  who  frequent  her  courtesan  house  ,  may  they  be  regulars  or  new  to  the  dovecote.  cecily  picks  her  clients  carefully  so  to  only  have  to  put  up  with  those  who  definitely  have  information  she  wants.  when  her  main  business  was  not  serving  her  well  ,  she  took  other  clients  and  those  are  the  few  she  has  amiable  relations  with.     

CURRENT  HANDLER  :  submitted  to  the  main  as  a  wanted  connection  but  if  any  other  muses  fit  hmu  !!  cecily  was  recently  hired  by  the  house  this  person  is  either  a  member  of  or  loyal  to.  the  person  was  then  chosen  to  be  cecily’s  handler  ,  which  means  to  meet  her  in  glasswater  keep  to  receive  her  reports  and  to  also  keep  an  eye  on  her.  they  have  a  back  and  forth  rapport  /  frenemies  kind  of  dynamic.  i  can  see  this  dynamic  developing  in  a  few  ways  so  i’m  open  to  anything!     

HISTORY

the gwynne women were purveyors of fortunes and other low magic. they served with a knowing smile , as if they already had your whole future laid out in front of them and they were laughing at what was to come of you. cecily came from a long line of these women who never married but instead took lovers and bore them children. the partners were always welcomed to stay and raise the children among the gwynne’s , but they rarely stayed. cecily’s father surprised her mother by refusing to leave. when he did go it was unwillingly. she remembers his scratchy beard and thundering laugh , and then she remembers her mother’s sobs released in the dead of the night after he died. in the day , her mother wore a bright look , eyes gleaming with excitement and curiosity. cecily adored her more than anything in the world. she wanted to be her when she was just a child , wishing she could grow up faster so to follow her to wherever she went. 

soon , she did grow up and was allowed to join her mother as she swept through the streets of the red keep. cecily treasured those stolen moments in between job , her mother would entertain her with stories and anecdotes , all to keep a smile on the young girl’s face. all she wished was that her sibling enjoyed the outings as much as she did , and that her father was there too. but the lines had been drawn in the sand and cecily grew distant from her older sibling when they decided to pursue magic. they thought cecily and their mother inferior for involving themselves in lowly magic, but it was all the gwynne women knew to do . . . until cecily’s sibling left home to properly study what they called real magic. cecily’s mother was distraught , though she wouldn’t say it to cecily. the girl , only sixteen at the time , knew her mother’s tells and the walls of their apartment were just as thin as when her father died . . . though this time her mother’s cries were softer and more hollow , as if she could not believe someone else left. 

the gwynne family maintained their business of fortune telling as the years went on , but they lost some of their regular clients and money became tight. cecily and her mother always knew how to cut corners to survive but this was an even tighter corner to cut. cecily took to pickpocketing in the busy areas of the city and got fairly good at it. her desperation to care for her mother led her to the path that changed her life. she attempted to lift a fine bracelet off of someone when they caught her wrist. cecily thought she was going to lose her hand but instead the person laughed and admitted she had attempted to pickpocket a rather skilled thief. they took an interest in her and her mother and would return to talk to cecily every day , often with a loaf of bread or fresh fruit to share. eventually they offered to take care of cecily and her mother. cecily had been suspicious , never really trusting someone she met on the street , but the person explained they would be teaching cecily a trade. 

the trade was not what she expected when her mother and her were brought to a remote farm north of red keep. she had not cared what it was going to be , only that her mother would be cared for and that cecily would get a job out of it. when it was presented that she would train to be a spy and assassin , cecily was of course shocked but she did not leave. rather , she dedicated herself to the training and came out a superb fighter. she trained at the farm from seventeen to twenty - one and harnessed her natural skills of stealth and persuasion , while learning the grittier parts of the job. she didn’t at first have the stomach for the killing , not even when they went out to hunt. it was her mother , who helped in the kitchens , who reminded her it was all a matter of survival and to think of how she was raised — her mother and father tried to give them security but the gwynnes never rose out of poverty in red keep. nobles would walk by the slums and gawk but never help. the reminder of their arrogance and lack of compassion made something in cecily snap : why should she care whether another noble lives or dies . . . they didn’t care what happened to the common folk. if they wanted to pay to kill one of their own , cecily would not stand in the way — in fact , she would happily help them along. 

her mother gave her the encouragement she needed to throw herself completely into training. when she turned twenty - one she had a job waiting for her in the northlands and then in another part of the world and another. cecily realized she and her mother would never starve again. while she traveled to carry out jobs , her mother decided to remain at the farm and take responsibility for the kitchens and other household duties. cecily was sure that her mother would be safe and free. they lost contact with her aunts after her mother made the decision and cecily, to this day, still aches for her family. in the past when she visited red keep she would sneak around their neighborhood just to catch a sight of a cousin or aunt but she kept her distance , for their own safety. 

cecily spent a fair amount of time traveling to do her job but three years ago realized that she could serve a greater purpose by installing herself in one of the capitals where there was sure to nosey nobles who wanted secrets sniffed out. she came up with the idea of posing as a courtesan — she felt no discomfort with the job as she had spent her early twenties training to kill people. she was used to the uncomfortable. besides , she knew if she collected a group of clients and established herself she would have more access to the nobility. there was the downside of the total isolation. she was far away from her makeshift family when she settled in glasswater. it made her cold and distant. no longer did she have someone reminding her of who she was before she got into the business of espionage and murder. 

most recently , cecily has taken up a contract with the (tbd) house , gathering information on their behalf and then sending it to them. it pays well but she knows she’ll trade loyalties as soon as someone offers a heavier coin purse. she has little investment in the growing rebellion. though as she was originally from red keep and had looser morals instilled in her , she finds their sentiments against interracial marriage to be in bad taste to say the least. though she can’t help but be enamored by their dreams of choosing their own ruler. cecily has her own share of distrust of the current establishment , but she knows who pays her bills and she cannot afford to lose her biggest clients. cecily is prepared to become a wartime spy and assassin , not to choose sides but to survive.