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usomads · 7 months ago

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There's No Going Back // Jey Uso x Reader

**Author's Note: Hiiiii, this is my first ever fic writing so go easy on me 🤭 but if you like this feel free to give me some more suggestions too! Happy reading!**

Plot -> Y/N catches her boyfriend of three years in their shared bed with someone else. When she goes to her best friend Josh’s to gather her thoughts and seek some consolation, she learns that’s not the only thing she’s going to find when she walks in the door…

Pairings -> Jey Uso x Fem!Reader (Y/N) Warnings -> Cheating (made up BF name), Cursing, Hickies, Oral Sex (Fem!Receiving), Fingering, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Minors DNI

Word Count -> 3.4k

Nothing seemed to be going right for Y/N today. It started by her spilling hot coffee on her shirt at 6am, making her atrociously late to her morning meetings at work, followed by her getting written up for said tardiness, then being swamped with paperwork all day. She had yet to eat or drink anything (except for the other half of the coffee she didn’t spill on herself) and she. was. EXHAUSTED. All Y/N wanted to do was relax on her couch with her boyfriend Ben, whom she’d been dating coming up on four years in December, and let everything that transpired today slip from her mind as she laid in her man’s arms. That was not to be though, as the minute she turned the lock to enter her 2 bedroom apartment they shared she immediately sensed something was wrong. The scent in the air was different; she knew she hadn’t gotten any new candles or air fresheners lately so that wasn’t it. Perfume, she thought as she started assembling the pieces together, and it’s not mine.

Y/N looked around the apartment. There was no sign of anyone here, no trace of another woman. She relaxed partially, still keeping the thought in the back of her mind, but feeling eased because she didn't see any evidence of an affair in her space. But she didn’t need to see it to confirm it, she heard it. A moan. Coming from the bedroom.

“Fuck Ben, I’m so close.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, the blood in her veins had turned ice cold. No, there was no way, right? Ben wouldn’t throw away three years of our relationship like this. He’d never do that to her, he loved her. Right? This had to be a dream, right?

Her feet moved before her mind understood what was happening. Y/N was walking on autopilot, directly to the room where she heard the female voice come from. She knew she didn’t need to see it, she had heard enough to confirm her suspicions already. But before she knew it she was standing in front of her bedroom door, and sure enough she was hearing everything she needed to let her know that this wasn’t a dream. Echoing noises of skin slapping, faint moans and groans, and whimpering rang through Y/N’s ear’s, but that didn’t stop her from twisting the knob on the door and silently cracking it open. She saw the unthinkable; Ben, her long-time boyfriend, had a random woman bent over the bed, their bed, and was fucking her in ways that were meant for Y/N and Y/N only. And the sight of it made her want to throw up.

Y/N couldn’t remember when she left the entryway to her bedroom. She couldn’t remember running out of the apartment and into her car. Hell, she couldn’t even remember sitting in standstill traffic on I-285. But she did do all of those things, because here she sat parked in front of her best friend Josh’s house.

Josh, who she met years ago at a networking event in collaboration with her company and the WWE, was her go-to person. After that event, they quickly became the best of friends. They’d spend every chance they could together when he wasn’t on the road wrestling for hundreds of thousands of people, much to the disapproval of Ben. Ben never liked how much time Y/N wanted to spend with Josh when he was home, and he sure as hell hated how close the two were. Ben had started many fights with Y/N about Josh over the years and each time she assured him that there was never anything happening between the two; she had always shown Ben she was loyal to him and him only. And look how that turned out.

Before she knew it she was on Josh’s doorstep, the fall air in Atlanta feeling colder than usual to her, as she pressed the button on the Ring doorbell. It felt like hours of her standing there but only a couple minutes later and Josh was answering the door. He was shirtless, with basketball shorts loosely hanging around his waist. His hair was wet, like he had just freshly showered, and he smelled richly of his body wash and aftershave.

“Hey mamas, why didn’t you ca-,” he stopped mid-sentence. Josh knew the woman standing before him for 6 years, he knew everything about her. He knew when she was happy, when she was sad, when she was angry. And he definitely knew something was wrong now. But before he could ask further, she broke down in front of him.

“Ben, he.. I..” Y/N couldn’t even form the words to say it out loud, sniffling and letting out sobs trying to tell him what had happened, but Josh quickly figured it out and ushered her to the couch in his living room. He left her for a moment to grab her a water from the fridge, but immediately came back and sat next to her while she tried to describe the events that just unfolded.

“I saw it,” she cried, “at first I thought-, at first I thought that m-maybe I was just h-hearing things. B-but he was f-fucking someone else. I-in our b-bed.” Josh opened his arms to her and she nestled her face in the crook of his neck, letting out loud sobs while he listened and embraced her. She doesn’t deserve this, he thought, she doesn’t deserve any of this.

Josh continued consoling Y/N and cooing reassuring words in her ear while she let out sobs against him. Josh had plans tonight to relax and unwind during one of the rare longer periods of time he had off, but now? Y/N was his number 1 priority and he was going to be here all night if he had to, just to make sure she was okay. Josh’s heart shattered hearing her cry over a man who 1. he never cared much for to begin with, and 2. had broken his best friend’s heart. Josh wasn’t blind to the clear disdain Ben had shown him over the years, but he knew why he hated him so much. Ben saw what Y/N didn’t, that Josh was madly in love with her. Ben was afraid that Josh would try to take Y/N away from him, and if Ben hadn’t been in the picture he might’ve. But none of that mattered now; what mattered was being the person, the friend that Y/N desperately needed to be there for her.

Lost in his own thoughts, Josh didn’t notice that Y/N had stopped crying and was lifting her head from the crook of his neck. She sniffled, and wiped her cheeks from the tears that coated them.

“Thank you, J. For letting me sabotage your evening and being here for me. I needed that.”

“Baby, you didn’t sabotage nothin’. I had no plans tonight. You know I’ll always be here for you. Always.” That pet name always makes her stomach do somersaults, but after the events of this evening she wasn’t able to react with a blush or a soft smile like she usually does.

“I just don’t understand why,” she vented, “why would he throw away our entire relationship like that? Like, did I do something wrong? Was it me? Was I not good enough for him?” “Y/N-”

“No, Josh, I don’t wanna hear any of that ‘you’re too good for him’ and ‘it’s his fault’ bullshit right now. Three years, Josh, three whole years I was with him, and he decides to fuck some random bitch in our bed all of a sudden? It had to have been me, there’s no way he-”

Her sentence was cut short by the feeling of Josh’s lips on hers. Maybe it was her emotions guiding her, but Y/N instinctively moved her lips in sync with his. Something about the way Josh’s lips felt against her own felt natural, normal even. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, they were friends after all and friends don’t kiss each other like this, but she couldn’t will herself to pull away. What felt like hours of the two sharing this intimate moment together lasted mere minutes, as Josh pulled away quickly realizing what he had just done.

“Y/N, I-i’m so sorry… I wasn’t thinking right, I- I shouldn’t have done that. But hearing you talk down on yourself like that just… I couldn’t take it. You’re just so incredible and I-” It was his turn to be cut off now, by Y/N giving him a swift kiss to stop his train of thought. Y/N’s lips hovered over his for a brief moment, daring Josh to close the distance between the two again. She watched his face show how much he was trying to control himself and giggled for the first time that night, her cheeks once rosy from her tears now turning color over the two’s moment they shared, and finally spoke up.

“Don’t be sorry, J. If I'm being honest I kinda enjoyed it, and if I’m being more honest…” She leaned impossibly closer to him now, her lips brushing his as she whispered, “I wanna do it again.” That was all Josh needed to hear for him to crash his lips into hers, this time more desperate than before. He craved her, he needed her, and he wanted her to feel it too. His tongue brushed her bottom lip begging for entrance, causing her to smile into the kiss and denying him access. He was not going to let her tease him like this though, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a tug. The slight pain and mix of pleasure earned a gasp from Y/N, giving Josh an opportunity for him to slide his tongue inside as they battled for dominance. He used this distraction to pull her into his lap, Y/N now straddling his waist, as they continued to explore each other's mouths and bodies. Y/N’s hands were tugging on the ends of his mullet, earning low groans from him while his hand traveled from her waist to her ass and kneading it with his hands as she began to grind into him at a torturous pace. Josh was getting rapidly hard underneath her, and he could feel through the thin material of her dress pants rubbing on him that she was getting turned on as well. Sensing that they were enveloped in the heat of the moment Joshua pulled away, his hands still resting firmly on her ass while hers were still entangled in his hair. “Are you sure about this, Y/N? Because if we do this…”

“What, there’s no going back? We’re past that point now. I want this, I want you, I need you. Please, Josh, I want you to touch me.”

Josh sat up almost too fast, earning a gasp from Y/N and making her giggle into his neck as he lifted the two of them up and carried her to his bedroom. He gently laid her on his bed and crawled on top of her, kissing her softly before trailing his lips down her jaw and to her neck. He licked and sucked on the sensitive skin before finding the spot just below her right ear, where her soft moans she had before began growing louder. He had found her sweet spot, and he was going to make sure he marked it as his. Josh alternated between sucking and biting on the sensitive area until a bruise began forming at the surface. Admiring his work he nipped at Y/N’s ear and began whispering sweet nothings to her. Josh’s words and the feeling of his breath on her neck sent chills down her spine, and even more, her core to grow wetter by the second. She inadvertently bucked her hips at this, causing her to brush his hardening cock through his shorts.

“Relax mamas, Imma take good care of you,” he hissed, “just wanna admire you first.” Y/N lets out a breathy moan at this, while trying to fight every urge within her to not flip them over and take him right now. Sensing how needy she is for him Josh removes her shirt and unclasps her bra, leaving him in awe of the topless woman before him. Y/N, feeling his intense gaze on her, tries to cover herself with her arms but Josh immediately pins them above her head. “Never ever cover yourself in front of me, you understand baby? You’re too beautiful to hide yourself like that.” Y/N tries to nod in response but is immediately stopped by Josh wrapping his lips around her nipple, sucking and biting on it as Y/N throws her head back and tangles her fingers in his hair yet again. He alternates between each one, giving the same amount of attention to both and making Y/N’s head spin with pleasure. Josh is taking his time with her, and she is enjoying every second. He then trails kisses down her abdomen and makes his way to where she needs him most, wasting no time in removing her bottoms and coming face to face with Y/N’s pretty pussy glistening before him, because of him. “Oh poor baby, you’re soaked. Who made you this wet, hmm?” Y/N moans in response, and Josh lightly smacks her thigh. “Answer me, baby. Who did this?” Josh teases, knowing damn well he’s the reason why, but wanting it to come straight from Y/N’s mouth. “Y-you did, Josh. Please baby, do someth- oh fuck,” Y/N’s pleas are cut short by Josh licking a stripe through her folds, collecting some of her wetness on his tongue. “Mmm.. you taste so sweet, baby, you wanna try?” Josh trails two fingers along her pussy, gathering more of her juices before reaching them to her. Y/N doesn’t hesitate to wrap her lips around his fingers and suck her juices off of them, moaning around them as she does so. Josh groans as her cheeks hollow around his digits, feeling his cock harden at the imagination of her mouth around him. He focuses on her clit and continues to guide his tongue in ways Y/N has never experienced before, feeling that feeling in her stomach growing stronger with each flick of his tongue. She frees his fingers from her mouth and starts chanting his praises, as if she were worshiping the way he’s eating her pussy. His name falls from her lips like he’s her god, and her reaction to him only fuels him more. He inserts his tongue into her pussy, fucking her with his tongue and driving her wild.

“Josh, please, don’t stop baby- oh fuck,” she whines as he adds a finger with his tongue and speeds up his movements, tongue and finger fucking her at a torturous yet unrelenting pace. Her pussy clenches around him, he knows she’s close, and he’s not stopping until his face is drenched in her cum. With his free hand he takes his thumb and rubs circles into her clit, the sensation causing her to arch her back off of the mattress and her thighs to tighten around his head. Before she can warn him the pressure in her stomach explodes, her vision turns white, and she’s shaking and moaning his name as she cums violently around his tongue. Josh had never seen a sight more beautiful than the way Y/N’s body reacts as she’s completely letting go. He wanted to capture that moment in his mind forever, and he wanted to do it again and again. Y/N slowly regained herself, catching her breath and beginning to relax her muscles while Josh licked every last drop of her up like his life depended on it. She shuddered at this, still sensitive from his work on her. After he was sure he had gotten every single drop of Y/N’s essence cleaned up, he proceeded to remove his shorts exposing his long, hard cock. Y/N admired the man before her in all of his glory, instinctively licking her lips as she attempted to sit up and return the favor. “Not tonight, mamas,” Josh cooed, “Tonight’s all about you. Gonna show you how much I love you, baby.” With this his lips found hers, but this time it was different. Something had changed between the two. This was no longer desperation, it was passion. Love. Josh used this moment of kissing her to tease her with his cock, rubbing himself along her pussy, before stopping at her entrance. They broke the kiss; foreheads touching, breathless, and staring longingly into each other's eyes. “No turning back now, right?” “Never,” Y/N whispered as he eased himself into her. The feeling of him stretching her pussy as he slipped inside, the way her walls fluttered and tightened around him and he pushed himself deeper, was unlike anything Josh or Y/N had ever felt before. It’s like they were made for each other, how he fit so perfectly inside of her was something you could only dream of. A series of moans were sung by them both as Josh’s cock completely bottomed out inside of her. After giving them both a second to adjust, he slowly eased his way in and out. Pulling out enough to leave just the tip inside, then all the way back in. Over, and over, and over, and over. Y/N’s hands traveled to Josh’s back and began digging her nails into skin as she threw her head back in ecstasy. Josh’s face found the crook of her neck and peppered kisses along the skin as he continued to make love to her.

“Fuck Y/N, so tight f’me. Feels so good wrapped around me, baby.” His thrusts picked up tempo, but not too fast. Josh wanted to savor this moment; he wanted to live in this feeling of him stretching her out forever, but he also knew it was taking everything he had to hold in his urge to cum on the spot. But his need for her to cum around him right as he was emptying himself into her motivated him into holding on just a little bit longer. He bucked his hips up into her sharply and Y/N arched her back and moaned his name loudly as her nails dragged down his back. Knowing he had now found her spot, he wasted no time in hitting it with every single thrust. Y/N could barely contain herself- she was a mess underneath him. She couldn't utter anything other than Josh’s name, and hearing it only drew him closer to the edge along with her. “I never want to hear you doubt yourself ever again mamas, you understand me?” He grunted in her ear, “You deserve the world baby, and I’m gonna give it to you. You’re mine now, understand?” “Fuck yes, I’m yours baby. I’m yours. Josh, I-”

“I know, I know, I’m close too princess. Cum with me, I gotchu.”

Y/N lets go more viciously than the last, and the tightening of her pussy as she cums around him is enough to have Josh moaning her name in her ear as he fills her with his cum, still moving his hips as he fucks his seed into her. Y/N is still riding the high of her orgasm, whimpering with every thrust he makes. On his way down from his, he slows his movements inside her and rests his forehead against hers. They’re both dripping in sweat, but none of that matters as they lock eyes and catch their breath. It’s silent, but a comfortable silence.

Josh pulls out of her and Y/N sighs, feeling empty without him inside of her as he lies down next to her and pulls her into his arms and both close their eyes. Whatever fallout happens from the events of today will have to wait until tomorrow, right now all that matters is them. Both realize the gravity of this moment, both know their friendship just changed forever, and both know that there’s no going back now.

And that’s perfectly okay with them.

#jey uso #jey uso smut #jey uso imagine #jey uso fic #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x you #jey uso x reader #jey uso x y/n #main event jey uso #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe imagine #wwe smut

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yowumi · 8 months ago

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Hotshot surgeon Gojo x Medical Student Reader Ft. Hotshot Surgeon Suguru [ modern au ] TW. Pregnancy & Love Triangle

Shotgun Wedding CH. 01 | one night, forever?

Summary. Satoru Gojo, The states #1 Neurosurgeon, known for his wealthy clan. He was known for his success, parties, and his willingness to fuck anybody and everybody in a 10 mile radius. Unfortunately, one unlucky night, you make the wise decision to do what any hard working young medical student would do when faced with a sexy doctor…you sleep with him in which changes your life forever.

Warnings. Accidental pregnancy, no protection (wrap it before you tap it), love triangle, roommates (they all live together), arranged marriage, satoru is a bit of a meanie, plot twists, angst, smut, you only end up with one.

A/N. this is my first time writing a fanfic, although i’ve always wanted to! i’m always open to take constructive criticism or any tips to make my writing better! I hope you guys enjoy and definitely lemme know if you have any suggestions, read well luv <3

keep up! // ch. 1 // ch. 2 (coming soon)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

12:09

one, two, three…

this can’t be right, why do these all say positive, there isn’t any possible way this could be happening. You were only twenty two, this can’t be happening.

positive

positive.

the plus sign on the pregnancy test is clear as day. you were pregnant. this had to be some mistake, you can’t even remember the last time you’ve got it on with someone let alone let anyone not use protection.

you’ve always been way too cautious, especially with your mother being a young mother herself, always so strict when it came to boys and using protection.

how could you fuck up this bad?

a tear falls from your face, before many more. you can’t hold it together, not now. you can’t be a mother? you don’t even know who the father is. this is all too much.

beep, beep

Incoming Call: King Nobara

you look at the dumb contact name you and nobara made up one night while you were drunk recalling the night where she had yuji bow down to her passing her drinks while pronouncing her ‘King Nobara’ for getting the drunkest.

You send it to voicemail, there’s no way you could face her right now. nobara would burn down the city if she knew her best friend was crying.

ding

King Nobara: omgggg im so hungover from last night, yuji said him and gumi had to force me out lmao

King Nobara: where did you go btw i was tryna find you all night, last i saw you were with doctor save a hoe 🍆💦

fuck.

14 hours ago.

“Oh my god i can’t believe Shoko invited us here, there’s so many hotties! Oh my god is that Maki Zenin” She slaps your arm playfully trying to grab your attention towards Maki Zenin.

Maki Zenin, She wasn’t a big shot surgeon but she was a quick learner, being the first in her class to get an internship at only nineteen years old, making a special exception straight out of high school. Nobara is a total fangirl for her, admiring her for being a ‘girl boss’ and her beauty.

some would even say Nobara had a little crush, although she would never admit it.

“aren’t we supposed to be here for work” Megumi makes a remark towards Nobara and Yuji who are already shoving wine down their throats.

“Hey man take advantage of the free alcohol, this shit is nothing like cheep shit we get, taste it gumi!” Yuji hands Megumi a glass looking at him like an excited puppy.

Megumi rolls his eyes and takes a sip.

“Whatever, i just hope I don’t see Gojo, he’s always pestering me about how I should let him mentor me.” Megumi gets all creeped out from the thought of Gojo.

Apparently he has known Gumi since he was a kid, they are about 8 years apart in age.

Megumi hates him.

“He’s the #1 Neurosurgeon in tokyo, it isn’t a horrible idea” You suggest, “Being close to someone like that itself is a blessing, he could totally help you out”

“Yeah i hear he’s like loaded rich! he could pay for like your dog food and shit since you buy that crap every day!” Nobara slurs her words and laughs,

Megumi has a lot of pets surprisingly, Nobara likes to joke that he’s ‘Snow White’. He really does buy a lot of dog food though to be fair, his dogs are huge.

“No amount of money is worth spending time with that maniac, I’d rather buy dog food every hour” He finishes his drink

This talk of Gojo is getting him worked up, “His best friend isn’t that bad though, I hear he’s a respectable man and good at his studies” Megumi adds,

“Oh what’s his name! uh Gojo-“ Yuji tries to think of who he’s talking about, the mention of Gojo makes megumi shoot Yuji a glare, “-OH! I KNOW! I KNOW! GETO!” he says excitedly as if he just figured out the hardest puzzle in the world,

Nobara cheers Yuji on, and you take a sip of your drink admiring their immaturity. Something you and Megumi can appreciate from them is how they always keep a light attitude. The pressure of school and work was draining and keeping a light attitude constantly couldn’t be easy.

You all look over to find Geto before Nobara points towards him, “oh my gosh he’s so handsome, you should totally talk to him y/n he’s ogling you like crazy! you need to get over that stupid choso anyways” She says grabbing your arm to motion you towards him,

“ugh don’t remind me, i don’t want to think of that asshole” You say, chugging down drinks before you could think any longer.

Before you knew it, Geto was walking towards you, you suddenly felt nervous, his presence was intimidating. Anyone can argue his beauty is unmatched, he has such a romantic aspect to him, looking at him looks like love itself, you’re struggling to keep your composure.

“Hello, you must be y/n l/n, I’ve heard lots about you, I couldn’t help but introduce myself” He says with a charming smile,

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I admire your medical expertise” You say entranced in his eyes, it felt like he was staring into your soul.

“No need to be so formal, you can call me Suguru if you’d like” He says while taking your hand and kissing it, you realize Nobara has disappeared somewhere.

“You should come by my office sometime, I would be interested in talking more with you soon, i’m afraid i’ve grown too tired to stay here any longer, have to hide before Satoru brings me into some trouble” He laughs off at the mention of Satoru,

Wow, Satoru Gojo really wasn’t a good influence, huh?

You nod and say you’re goodbyes as you watch as he leaves with a blonde man. Nanami Kento, Tokyo’s #1 Obstetrician.

You wander off barely holding yourself up as you bump into someone nearly causing you to fall over. “M-my apologies” You say slurring your words as you look up to see a tall white haired man, he looked like an angel.

His blue eyes pierced you as he smirks and says “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, i was in the way, how about I buy you a drink for my stupidity” He flirts

and it’s working.

You nod and he pulls you gently over to sit down in a corner, there wasn’t many people here, almost everyone left.

As you guys pile up on drinks, you both become ridiculously drunk, talking about debt and studies and about your career, until you both could barely think.

You both just sit in a comfortable silence for a while, before you see the white man slowly pull you into a kiss, his lips were soft and you could smell the cologne on him, he smelt really good.

You’re hand wrapped around his neck, you look around before going any further realizing you two were the only ones left. You get on top of him and sit on his lap as he pulls you closer, tracing the arch of your back.

He holds your hips down on him, feeling the bulge in his dress pants. The kiss deepened as he laid you down on the booth, placing his jacket under you for comfort without pulling away from the kiss once.

He slowly plants kisses down your chest, “you’re beautiful” he breaks away before unbuckling his pants and pulling them down just enough to pull out his dick.

He unbuttoned his shirt next to show his muscular body, you traced the lines of his abs with your fingers before going down to his v line, he groaned a little before lifting up the dress you were wearing to take your underwear off, grabbing one of your clothed plump boobs that were barely staying in the dress.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, promise princess, gonna make this pussy mine” he says as he places his dick against your core, feeling him twitch against your clit earning a moan from you and for him to buck his hips closer.

He enters you and he swears he’s seeing stars as he thrusts into you greedily, he’s slurring his words as he mutters things about how “it’s mine, gonna cum in this pussy” he says feeling himself become closer the longer he’s inside of you.

you haven’t gotten any action in so long, you haven’t even been on the pill, this didn’t cross your mind in the moment of course. Who would think about that when Satoru Gojo is saying he wants to cum inside of you?

“shit, fucking gonna cum inside, so tight, gonna breed you so well, say it. say you’ll let me breed a sweet little baby into you, fuck” he groaned letting lose of the little composure he had before.

“cum inside me, Satoru, want you to put a baby inside of me” and with those words Satoru whimpered in your ear as he kept thrusting hard feeling cum ache out of his balls, filling you up to the brim.

This happened about 3 more times before he had your drive drop you off at home where you’re roommate, Megumi had to carry you inside and he gives Gojo a disgusted look.

After laying you down he leaned down on the car door, where Gojo slowly rolled down the window and looked like a child on trouble.

“What the fuck did you do, Satoru. She is barely conscious.” He says with anger in his voice. He knew Satoru wouldn’t do anything without consent but he wouldn’t be surprised if he took advantage of his pretty privilege with drunk woman.

“So am i, Gumi” he says barely able to stay awake for this conversation.

“Whatever just leave her alone, she isn’t one of your girls, she’s my friend and she has potential to be more than one of your little interns” He says while walking off

In the moment Satoru was glad Megumi left because he was on the verge of passing out. He didn’t think you were one of his little interns, he was listening when you were speaking about your goals and dreams of being a doctor. He really wasn’t trying to get into your pants, but he knew Suguru was been eye balling you for weeks, so he already felt regretful for sleeping with you.

back to the present

you’re brought back from your thoughts when you hear a knock on your door startling you from your head as you take a second to clear your voice so it doesn’t sound like you were crying.

“You alright in there? i heard a noise” Megumi’s voice echos through the door and you grab your composure, wiping away your tears before opening the door.

you put on a smile, “yeah sorry i’m just really hungover, you can come in” you offer noticing he brought you a coffee.

you both sit on the bed before megumi breaks the silence, “Gojo dropped you off last night, are you okay? he didn’t make you join an orgy or something right?” he asks concerned.

You and megumi have been friends since you were kids, his big sister was your best friend before her death in middle school, ever since then you and megumi have been pretty close, you were almost like family. sharing a mutual grief and love for someone close to each other.

“No, he didn’t do anything like that, I promise” you laugh off and he stares for a while trying to find any discomfort in your words before believing your words.

ding

King Nobara: OH YEAH AND YUJI KISSED MEGUMI LAST NIGHT!!!! DONT TELL HIM I TOLD YOU

The phone was on the bed facing right towards you and megumi before his face turns red and he flips the phone over.

you’re face brightens at this news, “Megumi! you have to tell me about this right now, hold on let’s all have a group call!” you say laughing heading towards your phone before he chases you down for it.

You: TELL ME ALL THE DETAILS.

“NO!” He raises his voice a little, face burning red, “I’m not talking to itadori.” He states, looking away in embarrassment.

ding

megumi looks up with wide eyes, “Wait!” he says flustered trying to reach for the phone.

King Nobara: MEGUMI KISSED HIM FIRST

Megumi lays his head in his hands and faces towards the wall like a child who has been punished. “WHAAAAT” you say laughing as you poke at his sides trying to get it out of him.

“I’m leaving now.” he says walking away with hands still in his hands as he goes to find the leashes for his dogs.

you laugh as he walks away.

“Wait Gumi! quick question” you say stopping him, hesitated if you should ask him

He stops at his tracks and turns towards you raising an eye brow in acknowledgement,

“Can you give me Satoru Gojo’s Address”

he looks away almost in disappointment before writing it down on a sticky note before heading out the door, before closing it he pauses before saying, “be careful, y/n”

Now that you have his address, you head off to find his house

knock knock knock

Your nerves were going crazy, like at any moment you would explode. How were you even supposed to tell this to him?

Oh hey! I know your probably don’t remember me because we were hammered but you actually got me pregnant haha surprise!

What were you thinking, as if he would even care. If anything he was gonna tell you to go away or that you were crazy or threaten your career so you will get rid of it.

A rich asshole doesn’t want his life interrupted by this.

Before you turn to leave, you hear the door swing open revealing a familiar face.

Suguru Geto

He looks surprised to see you, he’s most likely thinking ‘how did this crazy chic find my place’

Damnit megumi gave you the wrong address, this is so embarrassing, you should just go home and eat ice cream while crying about how utterly stupid you are.

“Oh, i’m so sorry- this is so weird uh i thought this was Gojo’s house, megumi gave me an address and he gave me the wrong one, so sorry! uh i’ll be going now..” you say looking down in embarrassment, it stays silent for a while before you hear him laugh.

Why is he laughing?

“May i ask why you’re looking for Gojo?” he asks in curiosity,

You try and think fast of an excuse to use, what could you possibly tell him, there was no good excuse to be at his house, it’s not like you guys were friends.

So you do the most believable excuse you could give him.

“I left my uh underwear at his place and i came to pick it up but i was too hammered to remember the place!” you say, that had to be convincing, right?

He nods in amusement,

“aw that’s interesting. Satoru came home alone last night, I would know I live here as well” And now you feel stupid.

Fuck.

“So uh this is his house then…” you say,

Suguru nods slowly before you see Satoru call out for Suguru, approaching the door, shirt off and only in pajama pants.

His eyes widen when he sees you, Suguru can’t know about what happened last night, oh he’s fucked. He has to play it off like he doesn’t know you, it’s for the best.

You look at him in worry, he wonders if something is wrong with the way she’s looking at him. Suguru looks towards him with a smirk but he knew Suguru was pissed by the way he didn’t look him in the eye.

“You have a visitor, Satoru.” He says before leaving back into the house.

Satoru looks at you now, “Hey” he says awkwardly rubbing his head, he somehow feels like your gonna yell at him, he feels like he’s in trouble.

You take a baggie out of your pocket that showed the three pregnancy tests, all positive.

He looks confused at first before he sees it for himself, his eyes widen, fuck.

“What the hell are these fake?! I can’t be the father, haven’t you slept with anyone else lately?!” He says in a panic not realizing how aggressive he is coming off

You shake your head no, feeling tears fall from your eyes

“You can’t keep it! Suguru would kill me, your career is at stake! my career is on the line! It isn’t mine!” He starts freaking out, how could he fuck up this bad

“I can raise it on my own, this was stupid! I knew i should have never told you, you only care about yourself!” you yell before you try and walk away and he grabs your hand.

He takes a moment to get his composure back, to get himself together. “let’s just, let’s sit down” He says calmly not looking you in the eye.

You sit down and you both don’t say a word for a few minutes, satoru runs his hands over his hair and you lay your head in your lap.

Hiding the fact that it’s Satoru Gojo’s child would be very hard, his clans genes are very strong, your child is bound to have his signature white hair and blue eyes.

The only man with those features. It would be puzzled together with no problem, you don’t have any of those features. Would you really have to abort the baby?

You didn’t plan on being a mother but…

it doesn’t mean you didn’t want to be.

“I’m keeping the baby. You don’t have to be in its life if you don’t want to. I understand.” You grab your bag and stand up.

“I will be in the child’s life, it isn’t fair to just leave you with a child, i’m not an asshole. It’s my fault in the first place, I will accept it, eventually.” He said looking down in his hands, for once he seemed mature, like he was serious about what he was saying.

“Are you sure?”

He nods.

“Thank you for showing me, y/n” He looks up and softly smiles, he felt sorry for how he just stressed you out, the least he could do was offer a comforting smile, he wanted to be there for her.

“You live with Megumi right?” He asks even though he knows the answer. You nod.

“That wont do, you will move your things here, there are two doctors here and a maid to watch over you and Gumi’s place isn’t big enough for a baby” He says but it’s almost demanding.

“What do i tell him?” You ask, how were you gonna tell your friends this, Megumi is gonna be so disappointed.

“Dunno, it’s up to you, I wont tell him anything until you do so it’s up to you, you don’t need your bed and stuff, just get what you need, we can get it now” He says going in his house to get his keys, seeing Suguru looking at him from behind the kitchen island.

You walk in as he grabs his keys and look at the floor, still in your head about all of this.

“Where are y’all heading” Suguru asks, sipping on his coffee like a dad interrogating his daughter. Which in this case his daughter is Satoru.

“Getting her stuff, she’s gonna move in here” He says, he knows what he did was messed up to Suguru but he didn’t feel like he owed him an explanation, not now. He still needed to process it himself.

Suguru says nothing to Satoru and turns towards you instead, he places a soft smile of hospitality towards you, “Well make yourself at home” He says before walking off not even looking at Satoru as he walks off.

The rest of the night, Satoru takes you to your apartment so you can pack your things, he helps you and thankfully Megumi isn’t home so it makes things easier. Satoru would get a mouthful from him for sure.

Before packing the last of your things, you leave the money for the bills you pay and a sticky note,

What were you supposed to say?

“I’m going to be moving, found somewhere to stay, thank you for letting me stay with you Gumi, you have my number if anything, the keys are under the mat” and you stick it on top of the money before heading out.

The car ride home is silent, leaving you and satoru both in your thoughts. A man you just met yesterday got you pregnant, and now you’re going to live with him.

Not to mention, you are living with Tokyo’s finest and best surgeons in the country.

How did you get here?

A/N. OMG i just realized that reader wouldn’t be able to find out she’s pregnant just after one night but i already wrote it and don’t feel like changing it soooo let’s just not pay attention to that mistake…

TAG LIST: @jeannieboys @maskedpacific @muimuiwisteria @stuckinmoilalaland

take me to the next chapter! (coming soon…)

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo fanfic #suguru geto x reader #jjk suguru #suguru geto smut #geto smut #jjk satoru #shotgun wedding

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gingergofastboatsmojito · 8 months ago

Text

S4 Spoiler alerts

Their names are the biggest spoiler alerts ever

The C person

C will end up “Clairefying” for Carmy that he’s an emotional cheater. We might need to end up fucking thanking her for opening Carmy's eyes. Her whole role is to make this clear to him → as her name clearly indicates. And those scenes may have already been shot actually, so we're clear.

Luca

Luca will “bring light” into all the things Syd wants to keep in the dark. Also, as his name indicates from the very get go.

Shapiro

Shapiro, which means “sapphire”:

will end up being the bringer of SINCERITY into Syd's life, she will have to tell herself the truth to make the decision he's putting her in the position to make with his offer. And that decision will be a proof of faithfulness Syd will offer Carmy (improvement in their relationship).

Related notes:

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs ��

#the bear #sydcarmy #carmy berzatto #the names tell a predictible story #gingerpovs #sydney adamu #claire who?#luca the bear #adam shapiro #the bear fx #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto #the bear season 4 gingerpredictions #the bear hulu #the bear meta #sydcarmy meta

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return-of-a-space-cowboy · 11 months ago

Note

🧚‍♀️ Anon

Slasher!Josuke with Nerdy Darling? (Based off Scream)

Darling is a Horror Movie Fanatic, as she’s seen them all, from B Films, Foreign, Classics, Silents and the more Recent ones

Reader comes off as a Geek, but she doesn’t really care if people like her or not (She even works part time at the local Video Store) she’s kinda a loner as she has no friends at school

Reader is sorta based off Randy (I loved him in the Scream Movies and was upset that he was killed off in the Sequel) as she takes pride in her Horror Movie knowledge

If Darling has a Stand, maybe it’s called ‘Mortician’ (Based of the Band known for their songs based off Horror Movies) maybe she affects her surroundings like a movie based upon the 3 simple rules she makes? (If you break the rules you get injured or attacked, but if you don’t break them nothing happens)

Josuke gets a crush on Darling after they were grouped together for a school project and realized Darling is pretty cool (She even tutors him so his grades don’t slip since she’s a straight A+ student at their high school)

However Josuke noticed Darling only shows interest in Horror Movies and Slashers, so what better way to get the girl of his dreams than by becoming a real life slasher himself?

I’ve been watching Slasher Movies on loop, including delicious plot twists so what if Darling is Kira’s daughter? (She doesn’t know about his hand fetish or about him being a serial killer) She doesn’t have interest being in the spotlight like her dad (This can be scrapped if you want)

Ooh this is so interesting I had to start writing. I ended up writing a prologue.

I'm going to set the main part of the story a couple of years post DIU (mainly to age up) but the prologue takes place just before with reader being 14/15.

Still thinking about the stand. Possibly being a stand that almost looks like a phone dangle charm on her phone that sometime gives out rules in the form of a text for a set amount of time (anywhere from an hour to 24). It's one of those self destructive stands (not literally but it's always screwing with darling).

Really loved the Kira daughter idea, writing that darling knows and is actively trying to hide it after his "death". In a way she ends up paralleling him with her need to hide it as it previously ruined her life back in marioh cho.

If you have any more ideas please let me know as I am really invested.

(Also an odd fact, my dad's bday is the same as Yoshikage kira's)

Sins of the father prologue

(Yandere Josuke X female Reader)

Warnings: mentioned abortion

You looked at the address you'd written down before knocking on the door. Your lucky your friend had offered up the cover of a sleepover to your grandparents as they'd be furious to find out what you were doing, but you needed closure on the matter.

There was a car in the driveway so you knew he was home so you knocked on the door again. Who exactly? Your father.

You'd never met him in person as from what you knew him and your mother had been at odds over the idea. So the most he did was sign his name on your birth certificate before the relationship had ended. About a year after your mother had visited him to try and rekindle the relationship only to disappear.

You snapped out of your thoughts when the door opened. He was definitely the same man that your mother had stashed photos of.

Blonde hair, blue eyes and sharp features.

He was probably wondering why some random middle schooler was at his door.

“Mr Kira?” You asked.

“Yes, that is me,” he told you. You looked oddly familiar but he couldn't quite put his finger on as to why. You quickly held out a paper bag, you'd gone to the effort to buy him a castella cake as a sign of good will.

“My name is (Y/n) Kira, I was hoping we could talk” you told him. He took the bag but he had a scrutinizing look.

“Is this about your mother's disappearance? I already told your grandparents all I knew” he asked.

Of course he lied, he simply told them that she'd left his house. In truth she never had but back then the villas hadn't been developed yet so no one was around to discredit his claim. Yet your grandparents had not believed such a claim.

“No, I wanted to meet you” you said and immediately he began to close the door before you wedged your foot between the door and the frame.

“I'm not asking anything of you, after this we can just go our separate ways… I promise” you said, desperation in your tone.

He sighed before opening the door again.

“Just this once, if I ever see you here after I'll call the police” he warned you as he stepped aside to let you in.

You came in and left your shoes on the shoe rack before following him into the living area. You sat down on the cushion behind the low table.

“Tea?” he asked.

“Yes please Mr Kira” you responded with a nod. You looked around as you waited. This was definitely one of the older houses in Morioh cho. tatami mats, sliding doors and hanging lights. Probably made around the 50s/60s like your grandparent's. Most of the houses in the town now were around tenish years old at most.

Soon he brought some cups and a teapot before sitting down himself and pouring the tea.

“So why did come here? I thought your grandparents would have been completely against you coming here?” He asked.

“I found some of my mothers belongings. After reading her diary I was hoping to get your side of the story, if you're comfortable with that?” you told him.

“Well I suppose you should know” he said with a sigh. Your gaze was just like hers and a small part of him was terrified by that, that dead woman's stare haunted him.

You rummaged through your school bag before grabbing out a piece of paper full of questions you jotted down.

He told himself to think of this like how he would any other interview. The sooner he answers your questions the sooner you'd leave.

“So first off, mom wrote down that you two were in the same homeroom in highschool when you two met” you said.

“Yes, she was seated next to me. I hadn't realized she'd had feelings for me til Valentine's day” he told you.

“Why'd you accept?” You asked. Now that was a hard question to answer. He'd been shaken after killing Reimi, a girl from the same school. He'd tried to keep his urges in check. After your mother had confessed her feelings to him he believed that if he'd had a partner maybe he'd have no need to ever do it again and she happened to have a lovely pair of hands. His eyes couldn't help but drift to yours. They were quite pretty too, he noticed the light polish on them and spoke up.

“I thought the schools had a no polish policy” he told you. You rolled your eyes, you'd painted such a similar shade to your skin hoping no one would notice.

For a while you continued to ask him questions. Until you inevitably asked why he and your mother broke up.

Another tough question, he had many reasons. He'd realized that his plan to keep his desires in check wasn't working, not to mention your mother's pregnancy had caused issues. He'd swore up and down he'd worn protection. At first he believed your mother had cheated but that was disproven. He never heard the end of it when his mother found out. She believed her son wouldn't have ever done something like that and demanded your mother have an abortion if true. In truth he'd silently wished for the same but your mother was headstrong and was determined to keep the child.

Eventually he'd decided to break up with her and at least fill out the birth certificate but that was it.

“It was complicated, in honesty my feelings for her washed away and when we found out she was pregnant, both our families had a feud over it. We decided it was best that I wouldn't be in the picture… I also wasn't ready for a child in my life” he explained, his eyes gazing upon his tea.

“Thank you Mr Kira” you thanked him, you knew these were hard questions so you appreciated that he gave you the answers. At this point he couldn't help but have questions of his own, as he couldn't quite figure out what type of person you were.

“May I ask you a few questions of my own? nothing too personal” he asked.

“Of course, it's only fair after all that I've asked you”

“What after-school club are you in?” That was probably the best way to gauge the person you were.

“Oh I'm in a book club” you replied, that was the same club he'd been in when he was younger.

“You like to read?” He asked.

“Kinda, in truth it was the only club that gave me privacy. My media interests are more on movies but reading the original sources are always fun” you confessed.

“Any plans after highschool?” He asked.

“I'm not entirely sure, I do want to do university but I'm unsure of what course to take” you told him with a sigh.

“You'll figure it out in time, I only decided what I was going to do during my last year” he told you.

It wasn't long after that you left. To go to your friend's to watch movies over the weekend. They had a large collection of horror movies that your grandparents would never allow you to watch.

Unfortunately your life would never be the same after your father's true nature became public news. Forcing you and your grandparents to have to start a new life away from Marioh cho.

#yandere jjba #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere josuke #slasher au #🧚‍♀️ anon

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fountainpenguin · 9 months ago

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Rewatching A New Wish - "Stanky Danky" & "Peace of Pizza"

SDLKFJSDKLFJS, I missed that the news channel refers to Dale as "Billionaire non-philanthropist."

I missed that Hazel actually did wish "people would stop being trash monsters," but Cosmo and Wanda only heard "I wish trash monster"... In my memories, she had a nightmare about a monster that they wished to life. This is funnier because I can't really blame Cosmo and Wanda for granting that.

I like when Danky opens his lid one eyeball at a time. Also ?? his elbow pads?? He's a living dumpster and he wears elbow pads... He's safe...

Also, I've watched Dale's presentation a bunch of times because I think it's silly when he hops backwards, or kneels to talk to someone (This is what I was watching again today when I decided to take more notes).

He has some REALLY fun body language, including finger guns. I like his big-armed gestures. He really puts on a show and I think that's hilarious since he doesn't love being in front of people. But I don't know what I expected considering that he likes to dance when he's by himself.

I like that his logo here is a combination of the D for his name and two stripes like a dollar sign... which is interesting, because the logo people have on their phones is a D-squared for his alliterative name.

We do know he's advertising Dimmazon "in partnership with Dimmadome Global," so they're probably separate logos.

And I enjoy his baby talk and finger guns when he's talking to Danky later. I think I already commented this in my first-watch liveblog, but I like how Dale lures Danky in with a dog toy?? It's a squeaky bone. I have a hard time imagining this man going to the pet store, but ??

I missed the fact that he brought TWO single-use helicopters to the park... something is very wrong with him...

As much as I joke about Dale's extreme amounts of trauma, I hope he talks to Vicky like this-

- when they finally cross paths again so we can see where that gets him.

On the one hand, I think it would be hilarious if he had a complete mental breakdown because he's extremely messed up. On the other... Now that he's an adult, can he TALK to her like that??

Assuming he didn't panic when he saw her again, I feel like this is the natural direction for his character: smug and rubbing his success in her face.

I have to assume she'd wreck him since she yelled in "Operation: Birthday Takeback" about her dislike for him (That he was lazy, but went on to be rich and successful and never gave her a cut). She's unhesitatingly mean to Crocker because she doesn't have to keep up appearances around him...

But it would be funny. Against all odds, Dale is not an easily frightened man. He works hard, plunges into the unknowns with his wild risk-taking, and he's the smuggest boy... but he also has meltdowns on the floor when he loses money. I like that.

- Huh. I wonder if Timmy would've grown up to be a lot like Dale if he didn't have Cosmo and Wanda. I mean, Vicky pushed him around too. - I was gonna make a joke about how I think Dale should be as obsessive over Timmy as he is Hazel, but... It IS Dale who got himself out of his torment, not Timmy, so I guess not.

??? Tina's running every position at the news studio.

SKLDFJSLDFJSD, wait, Dale has a lemon slice, but he specifically has PINK lemonade, which he probably did not have to make considering Vicky never sold any in "Nectar of Odds"....... oh my gosh.

?? That might be another drink, but even if it is, I'm pretty sure that's a lemon?

Dale drinking lemonade despite banning Dev from drinking lemonade is the biggest "Rules for thee, but not for me" plot twist of all time... Oh I HATE HIM /affectionate.

oh my gosh, wait...

It's a LIME.

??? Somehow that is exponentially funnier. Tell us how you really feel.

His drink is very possibly a Paloma cocktail, made from grapefruit, lime juice, and tequila (No lemonade required, can be pink, and isn't weird to drink with ice cubes).

I like how both Dale and Dev like to slam dunk trash... even in different episodes... They are Related and live in the Same House...

I don't think I've said it yet, but I appreciate how the Dimmadome tower seems to reach impossibly high into the sky for no reason, considering Dale's statue seems to be the only thing inside it and the statue isn't that tall. It's a brilliant parallel of Doug's hat.

I particularly think it's funny when you see it on maps or in the distance of some scenes. It's just... there.

Geez. Say what you will about Dale, but he's a very hard worker who pulls things together INCREDIBLY fast. I mean... logically, I know him being a super hard worker who gets sucked into projects is his whole thing and that's why he's not there for Dev, but... ?? Holy one-man PR and marketing team running around this episode, Catman.

Lastly... apparently Dale likes to take over Dev's lounge when he's looking at profit charts, because that's where he's sitting when he has a meltdown about his stock dropping 5 million dollars... I mean, I guess it's both of their lounge, but you get me. And here's his thinking expression because it's funny:

Every time I watch a Dale episode, he gives me huge "Fandom's special boy" energy and I don't look forward to leaving my spoiler-free zone and possibly finding out that is Not True... skldfj. Look at him. He clicks his finger guns and slam dunks and he's getting by on fragments of his soul. We get him for free.

Notes from "Peace of Pizza" I thought of when I went to fetch Dev's trash scene

This vampire at Versaille:

Strat and Oppy change expressions during flashbacks, but Closer's the same... I don't know what I expected.

So ?? I keep going back to this scene because... I swear that's the April Fool, Flappy Bob, and the Sandman... Maybe not Flappy, but the only other clowns I can think of are his parents and Bobo, and none of them fit this either and Flappy already had a cameo in "1500 Minutes of Fame," so they're very aware of him. I'm gonna check.

That's such an interesting choice of characters to use as models?? I don't have anything to say about it.

Hazel specifically wished for Dev to have "extra milk he could share" for kindness day. He ends up with two (Cosmo and Wanda), but he didn't even have one milk carton on his tray because he's lactose intolerant, so... he didn't pick one up to begin with.

And we KNOW that, because he's on the way to the trash can when people stop him to talk. Also, during the close-up you can see he didn't eat his broccoli or carrots and I think that's funny.

?? So, in my 'fic worldbuilding, people generally go along with wishes if they're affected by them unless something REALLY tips them off that something's completely wrong. I like the implication that Dev instantly went on guard because he was confused as to how he suddenly had milk.

Oppy only pretends to be sad when Dev turns to look at him... He is the Optimism Captain to his core...

Strat is once again putting his hand on Oppy's shoulder... they are brothers... he loves him...

why were they even allowed to run around the school and bother children... why was no one supervising the billionaire's kid and questioning the intentions of these mysterious adults hovering around him...

Stackable:

It is their natural state of being... Also, from a budget standpoint, identical triplets whose distinguishing feature is their eyes & who are based on peas so they're simple to design was a brilliant Season 1 move. I hope we see them again someday, though I'm completely fine with them being very rare appearances.

?? Hazel has Class 104 after Guzman's class ("Multiverse of Jenkins") and Dev has it after lunch, is that what I'm getting here?

That is a different design than the other Room 104... oh :'D I guess they only have the one sign model.

Y'know........ that WOULD be weird if Flappy was at that treaty in the flashback. That doesn't seem likely... but it stresses me out that the Pe-Az have a magical briefcase that can hold large items without harming them...

... because Flappy's briefcase ALSO does that. He keeps his clown stuff, dioramas, and employees in there. It's the world's worst conspiracy... The intergalactic diplomats, friends of the Pixies who are all about paperwork and neutrality and raised Flappy... I'm connecting the dots...

omg, do you think the Pe-Az are the reason Fairies and Anti-Fairies decide who gets the godkids with an annual bake-off? They do like their treats. That WOULD be fun to work with in my war & truce 'fics. Oppy: Everyone loves cake and brownies! Strat: Brother, the Fairy King literally just lost his castle and son. Isn't celebrating with treats a bit insensitive? Oppy: Listen, I have one job in this team and I'm going to do it. Their ancestors, anyway.

I don't think I said this in my first watch, but I really like Closer. He's fantastic. Shows up, selectively mute because he's saving his voice for when he needs to throw tantrums and asking the same question repeatedly to bug people, super thoughtful and well-prepared, considered the best at what he does, gets meme'd on by a 9-year-old iPad kid and loses everything. Flawless character.

He's one of my favorites in all New Wish. They all are; I love their dorky shorts and brotherhood.

I really like how Closer insists he'll be done with negotiations in "30 minutes or less" because his whole thing is pizza. But Dev broke this man in like, 20 seconds:

BROKEN HEART!!!

Also, Strat... <3 He's such a ping-pong ball of a person.

For some reason, it's funny to me their language is themed around arrows. That's brilliantly clever for a negotiating species; it kind of reminds me of how the Yugopotamian language is in swirls patterned after their exposed brains.

Also, Some Three Guys having the ability to simply "turn pizza off" for the entire world is such an insane plot set-up and I think they played it perfectly.

Oppy kicking up his leg & Closer's expressions:

Extremely funny to me that when I heard "pea pod aliens," I went on immediate defensive expecting "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" vibes, but they're just cute little guys who like treats and bribery. why do they dress Like That... The suits and ties, the teeny shorts, the white socks pulled high above black shoes... did they get picked on in school?

??? They're just one-offs, but they have so much character and they all have unique body language and speech patterns... love that for them. I want to write something for them. I have no clue what, but I think they deserve to be children negotiating on the playground or looking after one another.

Strat and Oppy I think I can get their vibe as children - the planner and the enthusiastic one - but little kid Closer would be interesting.

What's a good thing to negotiate over when you're a kid... Were they kiddos who made graphs and presentations while arguing over which TV channel to watch or who would bathe first, y'think?

I think "baby Pe-Az in the bathtub" is exactly the type of content people follow me for.

Wanda's face here cracks me up...

... and shout-out for Dev getting instantly weirded out with stranger danger when Cosmo pats him.

I love how when the O-pairs pick the Pe-Az up by their heads and put them down again, Closer's dizzy and he sways back and forth even though his brothers are fine... lmao. I guess people don't usually mess with him?

Also, when Dev switches from playing around to serious talk, all three Pe-Az instantly put their folded hands on the table. They are ready for a Meeting...

That is all.

#Dale Dimmadome owner of Dimmadome Global #Riddle watches FOP #A New Wish #FAIRIES!#Stanky Danky #Peace of Pizza #screenshots #Pending Hazel tag #Dev Dimmadome owner of anguish #Dragonfly parents #Long post #videos #New Wish spoilers

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glimmerlofsea · 1 year ago

Text

Billy Hargrove x Reader

MASTERLIST

SHINING

Warning : Alcoholism, a little sexual harassment, just Billy being a really caring boyfieee :3333

WC; 3,1k

#TALKISSA; Basically I don't know what the plot is... but apparently, you guys are Steve Harrington's twinsiee. Contrary to Steve's personality, you guys are innocent, naive, and just really whine 24/7. Came to the party, the party didn't go well, Steve left, and Billy suddenly arrived out of nowhere.

Halloween is coming, but exams will never free the students of Hawkins to have fun. Today is the last day you take your exam—You hope to get perfect results according to your efforts to get good grades.

Different from Steve, who will only accept his exam results as they are, beside he wants to work straight away after graduating, not like you who wants to go to a good university where you can meet handsome guy and certainly not be sloppy like the guy in Hawkins.

Steve's personality with you is completely the opposite, even some students almost don't believe that you are Steve fucking Harrington's twin.

If Steve is a popular guy who has his own interest in attracting girls then you are 0% attractive. You don't care as much as Steve cares about his popularity. But that doesn't make Steve's affection for you change, he really loves you since when he was at home he felt like you were the only one who could accompany his loneliness. Likewise, vice versa with what you feel.

Your hair is always in the booth and you have bangs which are quite annoying to your eyes because you always have them twisted, but it's dumb that you still maintain your hairstyle. Steve told you several times to change your appearance so you could have a little fun in high school, but again and again you didn't care. You will just go through high school like the wind passes by.

Because of your innocence, people think you are just some kind of bookworm who is a study maniac, but no... They are all wrong.

You approached Steve who was already at his locker, your lockers were next to each other since Mrs. Johnson doesn't want the hassle of separating twins like you. And you love Mrs. Johnson because of it!

"How's your geography?" Steve asked you since the last subject of your test was geography.

You showed your cocky smile while flipping your hair back, making Steve groan in disgust because of your attitude,

"I bet I'll get more than a hundred—"

"Y/N!" You heard a girl who's calling your name, when you looked back you saw Tina running towards you while handing you a piece of paper, "Here, these are the results of your test, Mr. Phil said he was too lazy to check all yours so here are the results."

You smiled and grabbed the paper that Tina gave you, it had a big "0" written all over the paper in red ink. Steve held back his laughter and patted your back, because you felt he was underestimating you, you hit his stomach hard. Everyone has gotten used to it since then, it's like love-language between your relationship.

You coughed through your whimper, “Can a teacher do that?”

Tina shrugged her shoulders, she patted your shoulder, "Girl, your life is not for value all the time. If you keep trying and the results remain the same then it's a sign that you have to move on."

"Move on to what?" You asked sadly.

Tina showed a sly smile, she was a popular girl in Hawkins, different from the boys who had to bully to be popular—Tina didn't do that, yes maybe she just judged some people's clothes but not too much. That's what makes you like her and want to talk to her more.

She handed you two pieces of paper, you saw the words Halloween party at Tina's house which will take place in a few weeks.

"One for you and your brother." Tina said then winked at you. You smiled and said a simple 'thank you' before she left, not forgetting Steve who also said thank you.

You handed one paper to Steve, Steve ruffled your hair, "Cheer up, lil sissy."

You kept whining and tapping the back of your head repeatedly on the locker, "I'm not pretty, I'm not popular, I'm not good at anything."

With that Steve cupped your face, "Who said that?"

You showed your stupid face, "Um... Me?"

"Oh, God, I almost hit someone. If only a bunch of Billy Hargrove's gang said that I would really..." Steve explained as he showed the lump of his hand, his words were stopped by him telling you to look at the lump in his hand, as if to tell you that you should know that anyone who dares to mock you will get a gift from him.

You chuckled, “But who is Billy Hargrove?”

Steve's eyes widened, he threw his hands in the air again, "You don't know him? Good. That little shit always thinks everyone knows him."

Steve grabbed both of your shoulders, "Y/N. Never, like, ever find out about him or be curious about him, okay? Capisce?"

Before you could answer a voice joined your conversation, "I heard you mentioning my name, Harrington. Are you digging my vibe yet?"

You turned your body so that your body was leaning against the locker behind you, while Steve came face to face with the charming guy with curly hair.

Their gazes were intense, but the charming guy looked at you, making you smile awkwardly,

"I didn't see you there, Princess." He said leaning his arm on your side, did he just flirting with you in front of your brother?

"Get your hands off, Hargrove." Steve said.

You formed an O in your mouth, "Oh! So you're the Billy Hargrove?"

The charming guy— Or the one who now has a name, Billy Hargrove, showed his cocky smile, "The one and only." He said then took your hand for him to kiss right on the back of your hand.

You flinched so you just laughed awkwardly, "Super groovy, man. Like, totally friendly— Got it." You stammered your words while nodding.

Steve pushed Billy away and grabbed his collar, you widened your eyes trying to pull Steve away, while Billy raised his hands in the air, "Pretty brave, huh, Harrington?"

"Back off, or even step off from her."

You grabbed Steve's shoulder, "Steve, come on." You panicked because you saw Mrs. Joan, who was patrolling the corridors, was known as a killer teacher since rumors spread that she skinned her husband when she found out he was flirting with another woman. Just imagining it makes you shudder but on the one hand you don't believe the rumors.

Meanwhile, Billy showed his smile even more, showing his perfect row of teeth while licking his lips with his tongue— which made Steve's emotions even hotter, he touched you and Steve already hated him because of his presence.

Before Steve could land a blow on Billy you stopped him by hitting him on the head with your bag, making him groan and look at you, "What the fuck, Y/N?"

You don't look at him but in another direction while showing an awkward smile, "Hello, Mrs. Joan. No worries here. My brother and his buddy are just testing out the newest hoops moves." You looked at the two of them, "Right?"

When Steve frowned and was surprised at you— Billy just chuckled at your ridiculous behavior. You're interesting. For him.

Mrs. Joan couldn't stop staring at the three of you as she narrowed her eyes, you hit Steve's hand to signal him to say something, "Ah, yes, Mrs. Joan. You know, the tournament is approaching and Billy and I are just trying out new moves. Witnessed by my sister who was the jury."

Mrs. Joan didn't say anything and just walked past you, which meant you were completely safe.

You groaned and cursed Steve's name, "Don't you ever do that again! I've been blacklisted by her because I accidentally threw my book at her."

"Why did you throw it anyway?!" Steve snapped but not in an angry tone but surprised.

You shrugged your shoulders, "I had a nightmare, I saw Montley almost kissing me then woke up and was already throwing a book at Mrs. Joan."

Steve just shook his head while you heard Billy chuckle, Steve was about to walk towards him but Nancy called him, "Wait in the car park, understand?" Steve ordered which made you nod.

"And you," Steve said looking at Billy, "Don't you ever talk to her again."

"Yes, sir." Billy mocked which made you chuckle.

Steve immediately went over to Nancy, you gave him an awkward smile before leaving Billy in front of your locker, but his voice almost echoed throughout the corridor, "Wait."

You turned and raised your eyebrows, "I know you're Harrington, but can we get reacquainted?"

You chuckled as you hugged the book tightly in your hand, "I'm Y/N."

"And I'm Billy Hargrove." His reply showed a smile.

"I bet you don't want to get in trouble with my brother, so goodbye, Billy."

Who said he didn't want to get into trouble with Steve? The day after that he continued to approach you without Steve knowing, starting from him saying he could teach you Geography or sharing weird experiences during class. And the strange thing is that you fell for his bait, you were caught with him more and more often when Steve wasn't in the same class as you.

And today is the long awaited Halloween party, you want to go, but you are hesitant. You don't know how to party— Hell, you've never even been to a party.

"I never go to parties, Steve!" You whined at him when he was actually wearing a costume for his party.

"You did!"

You raised your eyebrows, "What party?"

"Birthday party?"

You tightened your jaw and threw your pillow at him, "That's not the same thing, dumbass! Don't make me angry and cry at the same time."

Steve put himself next to you, "Come on, Y/N! How about the dress I bought you last year?"

"Carrie White dress?" Steve nodded, "Listen, if you don't want to show your face you can soak the dress in fake red blood, how about that?"

You threw another pillow at Steve, "Are you out of your mind?" You toss your hair, "I'll show them this shining face."

Steve chuckled, "That's my girl."

You groaned in disgust and made an ugly face, "Ewh, change that 'girl'." Steve just chuckled.

Not long after you two left the house to go to the party, Steve picked up Nancy. Nancy praised you for your appearance, and you were also impressed by Nancy's appearance which looked more innocent than your costume.

You wore a peach colored dress that Steve bought you last year, decorated with a crown accessory in your hair.

When you arrived at the party you felt like it was really wrong to wear a leg-length dress, Steve and you went your separate ways.

12:00 A.M Steve says you should be in the car after the party.

Along the path you walked to Tina's house, you kept lifting your dress so that people wouldn't tripped over it.

For those of you who have never been to a party, you think the party is too boring, just follow along with rock music which is not your taste and the sound of the Hawkins High School students fondling which makes you groaned in disgust.

You found your way to the park in Tina's backyard, that's where you heard lots of cheers and people surrounding someone. You weren't interested so you went back inside.

Seeing lots of girls holding small red cups made you wonder what was in them, you let go of your dress in your hands and approached one of the girls, "Excuse me, what is that?" You said a little shouting because the music was too loud.

The girl who seemed drunk just smiled stupidly at you, "You're Carrie White!" You just smiled and nodded, "Let me pour some blood on your dress so you can be a real prom queen."

Thinking it was a good idea you nodded in agreement, but to your surprise she brought a group of her girls to spill the drink all over you too. Makes you close your eyes when they freely spill the drink. You didn't feel angry, but just a little oppressed... But it was your fault that you agreed with the girl's idea.

After that you saw a red cup on the kitchen counter, you grabbed it and drank it since you were curious about the taste, plus you had never tried alcohol before. Yes, you did, but that was a long time ago.

After trying it, it feels like something stinging and irritating in your body, you try to shake your head to wake yourself up, someone appears in front of you, it's Montley, "Dude, did you drink the drink here?" His voice seemed like a ghost in your ears, you just laughed and nodded.

You raised the red cup in the air and started shouting, "LET'S PARTY FOREVER, FELLAS!"

You heard Montley cursing, then his friend came over, "Did she just swallow that drink?" Jake asked, Montley nodded.

"Shit. We're going to get beat up by Harrington. Montley, there's cocaine in that cup—"

Montley immediately covered Jake's mouth and stomped his foot, "If you close your mouth then that won't happen."

While you definitely felt happy at this party, you had never felt this happy! You turned to Montley, "Can I have some more?"

Montley shook his head and took the cup from you forcefully, making you purse your lips, but he didn't say anything and just left in front of you with his friends.

You started walking into the living room to party with the others, you really felt excited,

“What's in that drink?” You asked yourself as you danced, you smiled like a fool, "I want more."

You walked over to the place where there was a sack of the drink in a bowl. You rested your hands on the table, “One please.” You said to the guy guarding the place.

"Well, well, well, look who's here." You heard a guy make a sound.

You turned your head and saw Jason who was standing in front of you, he always made fun of you when you were in first year, you narrowed your eyes, "What do you want?"

"You look good in that dress." He said and walked closer to you, "But it would be better if you took it off." He replied then you felt a hand on your butt. You slapped him straight away,

Your slap voice was very loud, making several people there turn their attention towards you, "Get your hands off me."

Jason chuckled, feeling himself humbled by you, he gripped your wrist tightly making you wince, "You don't look good. I'll make you feel good."

He grabbed your waist and took you away from there, but you pushed him away as soon as you reached Tina's backyard, "Just leave me alone."

Jason had run out of patience, he wanted to grab you again but someone pulled you to stand behind him, that's where you saw a guy in a black jacket standing with his back to you, it was Billy.

"What's your problem, man?" Jason asked with concern.

"Don't you realize that just touching her is my problem?" Billy replied while licking his lips.

Jason laughed at his disbelief, "Why don't you focus on your own mess?" Jason wanted to grab you again but you didn't let him and latched onto Billy's large hand, you pointed at Jason, “He's a bad guy!” Your babbling without full awareness.

"Did he hurt you?" Billy asked you, making you look up and shake your head, "But he touched my ass!"

Billy clucking in annoyance and turned his gaze towards Jason, "Is that so?" he asked Jason.

Now Jason was the one clucking, "Fine, she's yours, bro."

Jason was about to leave but Billy held him back and broke his hand making Jason scream in pain, "You can't just leave, there's gotta be a lesson in this, right?"

"Let's go, Billy!" You exclaimed while clapping your hands at his action.

Billy let go of Jason and threw him far into the wet grass, he turned towards you, you gave him a thumbs up but he ignored it,

"Let me see your eyes." He said then opened your eyes, making you look at him with those innocent eyes. Your pupils dilated, Billy knew that was one of the effects of cocaine.

"Fucking Montley." Billy cursed, he removed his hands from your eyes,

You wonder, "What's wrong with him?"

"I heard he accidentally put a cup full of cocaine and water and a girl drank it. And he mentioned being afraid of getting beat up by Harrington and stuff like that."

You held your throat, “Did I swallow cocaine?” You asked in a sad tone.

"I think so. Come on, let's go to my car, let's freshen yourself up." Billy asked then took your hand.

You didn't move immediately, "I want Steve."

"Princess, it's a shame that your brother left because of his romantic problems. Just come with me, okay? I'll take you home, I promise."

You whine, "My throat hurts, I'm scared, it feels like I'm hallucinating, I don't know what I'm feeling— What's wrong with meeee?"

"That must be the effect." Billy muttered, not long after he carried you.

"Stay awake, okay?" Billy said to you who had rested your head on his chest.

He wasn't wearing any clothes, just a jacket, making you trace his body with your fingers, making Billy feel goosebumps all over his body, but he knew that this was just another version of you. Not the real you.

Billy noticed the small crown in your hair, he chuckled to himself, the nickname 'Princess' was really made for you.

Even with wet hair and a dress that has red stains on it, you are still charming and shining.

Several girls whispered when they saw Billy take you to his car, some of them were jealous, but also amazed that you, who have always been an 'innocent girl', knew how to charm a boy from far away California.

As soon as you got to Billy's car he put you in the passenger seat, he gave you water which you immediately drank until it was finished. You want cocaine or other types of drugs to disappear from you immediately.

You whined in Billy's car, "I haven't achieved anything. And I've tasted cocaine or whatever that is."

Billy chuckled, he tucked your hair behind your ear, "It'll be fine. I don't think you've swallowed too much since the effects only last a few moments. Just if there's something weird, tell me or your shit brother right away, okay?"

You nod, “Thanks for helping me from that creepy Jason and this.”

Billy smiled,

You got up from your passenger seat to lean over so you could give him a quick kiss on his cheek.

As soon as you wanted to return to your original position he held you and pulled you into a soft and slow kiss, which at least made you calmer in that situation. And it really has an effect. You hoped Steve wouldn't find out about this. About cocaine, or unexpected kisses— And your first kiss was Billy fucking Hargrove. Billy thinks that you really are a girl full of surprises.

Author Note : I DON'T KNOW, this is suckss, but I really loooveeee it! ;D

#Spotify #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfiction #fanfic #billy x reader #william hargrove #steve harrington #fluff

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shivunin · 3 months ago

Note

Oooooooh 👀 forget-me-nots and/or wisteria for lenore? If any of them strikes your fancy 🫶

ooh this got away from me a bit! Hopefully you don't mind the length haha. For Wisteria: Write a scene where Rook dances with their partner, here are Lenore and Lucanis after he is named First Talon:

Cut In

(Rook/Lucanis | 2148 Words | No CWs)

“If I don't say it someone will: the wind blows through the goldenrod like death flows through a crowd. I watch it from a distance as the whole field lifts and stirs.” —Ian Parks, “Goldenrod”

Rook was not entirely sure where the band had come from.

Surely, Illario had not hired a quartet on the off chance he’d need a triumphal procession at this party. Still, there were the four of them, set up in the far corner of the opera house instead of on the stage, and so what had begun as a battle ended in dancing. She supposed Crows would not be very particular about getting blood on their shoes, no matter who it’d once belonged to. Still, watching from her seat on the edge of the dais, there was something a little ironic about watching the assassins leave trails of blood in the pattern of their dance.

“Antiva certainly does know how to throw a fete,” Emmrich said from below, and Lenore drew her attention from the crowd to her colleague. “The music is exquisite, if somewhat unexpected. I cannot say that I have heard a group of this skill in some time.”

“It’s quite good,” Lenore agreed, letting her eyes stray to the clear space around the musicians.

Another day, she might have felt wistful at the sight of them. It had been a very long time since she’d played before a crowd, and there was nothing she loved so much as to play music for dancing. It was a great act of creation, one of the most profound celebrations of life one could be a part of. She’d always felt so, at least.

Movement in the crowd around the edges drew her focus. Lucanis drifted through the crowd, slipping so easily between bodies that she almost might have thought they moved aside for him. Perhaps they had; it was difficult to tell from here. Every few steps, someone else caught his attention to congratulate him. She did not know why, but the sight of it caught at her heart and twisted it. She did not reach for her chest to rub her breastbone; she was as much on display as Lucanis was, for all that he walked among the rest of them and she sat apart and above the crowd.

Whatever she did now would not go unnoticed amongst this crowd. She knew enough about the Crows to know that much for certain.

Already, she could see the little pairs and knots of assassins huddling together on the high balconies and in the corners of the room. Even Viago and Teia had tucked themselves off to the side of the milieu, a precise distance held between them. There would be jockeying for position tonight, would be alliances forged and plotted against. She was certain if she looked hard that she could meet the eyes of whichever Crow would try to kill Lucanis first. It was a bloodsport, being one of them, being first among them. She was certain that nobody knew that better than him. He would not be surprised by the knife in the dark, whenever it came.

Whatever loyalties they had were won in blood and signed in the same. She did not understand them, would never be one of them if she lived a thousand years in exile from the Necropolis; that did not mean she would ever underestimate them.

Already, she had been watching him too long. Lucanis caught her eyes as if he’d felt her mark his progress through the crowd. She smiled and shook her head to tell him that she didn’t need him, hadn’t meant to call his attention. Lenore hadn’t even known she was staring, in truth. Sometimes her thoughts took her like that: as if they stole her from her body for a moment, consumed her attention so wholly that there was none left for fingers and eyes and skin. When she had been younger, her foster mother had tried to train the habit out of her. As in many things, she had not been successful.

Lucanis’s face was considering, as if weighing some significant thought. She wondered if he would tell her that he was leaving, that the office of First Talon demanded all of his attention and loyalty. She wondered if he was deciding how to tell her now. The smile on her face became fixed, an affectation of long practice, and she was relieved beyond words when the song drew to a stop and another began.

“I don’t suppose you know how to dance, professor,” she said, returning her attention to Emmrich. He looked up at her, brows raised.

“I feel a bit unnecessary here,” she went on. “If we’re going to be at a party, we ought to make use of the band while we can.”

“Of course, Rook,�� he said, and lifted a gloved hand. “It would be my pleasure. I fear it has been many years since I have had the opportunity.”

Lenore took his hand, hopping easily from the stage to the floor. The two of them joined the lines of dancers, two strokes of verdigris against the violet and black of the assembled masses. Long ago, she might have felt as out of place as they looked. Now, she was just grateful for the distraction of the music.

“I had heard that the Dellamortes were patrons of the arts,” Emmrich told her. They pressed the sides of their wrists together over their heads—or as closely as they could manage, anyway, given Lenore’s height. “Many an opera has premiered here, as I understand it, and at no inconsiderable cost to the family. It is an impressive building.”

“It certainly is,” Lenore told him. She didn’t continue the thought: as fine as this place is, I’m sure it’s as much a way to show off as it is to pay the artists. There were many ears in the crowd. She should assume their entire conversation would be overheard; likely, this was why Emmrich had chosen this topic of conversation.

It was unfortunate that she did not want to talk about the Dellamortes at this precise moment.

“Where did you learn to dance?” she asked him.

Smoothly, they let go of each other and turned the opposite direction. It felt odd to be dancing in her armor, but there hadn’t exactly been an opportunity to change after the battle and the subsequent announcements. Ah, well; at least it was light and didn’t inhibit her movements.

“I decided to learn when I was still in training,” Emmrich said. She tried to focus on him and not the whispers around her, the dizzying whirl of the crowd. “At the time, I admit that my intentions were largely to prove a point to a friend. However, I found that experience invigorating both physically and mentally. Over time, I came to enjoy it far more than I might have supposed.”

Lenore laughed, as he’d likely intended, and they turned again, feet moving in mirror to each other. The dance itself was not a challenging one; barely two steps above one of the old processional dances. Still, it was pleasant enough to know that she’d remembered how to do it.

Someone bumped into her as she turned. Lenore held back a shudder at the sensation and caught a murmured apology from somewhere to her left.

“I prefer playing over dancing, but it’s still nice to take to the floor sometimes,” she told him.

As she spoke, Emmrich’s eyes focused on something behind her. Lenore’s feet lost the rhythm for a moment, already certain she knew what he was looking at.

“If I may interrupt,” Lucanis said behind her, voice barely louder than the music. Emmrich bowed with a flourish and stepped away. He said something—or at least, his mouth was moving—but Lenore did not hear what it was.

The next step was to turn again, to lift her arm. When she did so, the side of Lucanis’s wrist met hers. It was a childish impulse not to look at him, not to seek his impending departure in the lines and angles of his face. She knew this was foolishness. He would no more discuss such a thing here than Emmrich would discuss anything more serious than dancing lessons or operas. Still…

“I didn’t figure you for a dancer,” she told him before he could say anything. She took in the sight of him in glances, out of the corners of her eyes. Whatever he was thinking, he kept it tucked neatly away. This would not be the place for serious conversations, for baring of their souls.

Don’t go, she thought, looking anywhere else. I can’t do this without you.

“I am not,” he told her.

His arm was warm against hers. Rook moved away in time with the other pairs on the dance floor, stepping away and turning in place, then reaching forward and linking her hands with his, one at her waist and one in the air between them. He had lost the gloves at some point in the evening. She could see them tucked into one of his many belts now. Better to focus on that than how warm and solid his hands felt in hers.

She wished he had kept the gloves on. It was worse, somehow, to feel his skin against hers when she didn’t know if he would leave them.

“Sometimes, a contract calls for it,” Lucanis was saying. Lenore had been watching their hands for several moments, as if the sight of his hands in hers would tell her something she didn’t know and couldn’t ask. “As you know, we do not abandon a contract.”

Lenore did know. What was he saying? He was looking at her, she thought. She wasn’t certain if she could look back.

“That makes sense,” she said.

“And you?” Lucanis asked.

They let go of each other and moved in a tight circle, always moving toward each other and never quite touching.

“Why did you learn, Rook?”

She lifted her eyes, hoping to catch him when he was turned away, but she had miscalculated. Lucanis was watching her intently, eyes fixed on hers as if they weren’t dancing in the middle of a pit of knives and poison. She supposed he would know immediately if anyone around them made any wrong moves. Even so…there was something intoxicating about his attention, something that tingled in her fingertips and burned in her ears.

“I didn’t have a choice. My foster mother decided I ought to know and she wasn’t the sort to take no for an answer. Not something you have any familiarity with, I’m sure.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, just a little. Neither of them looked up at the stage where Caterina held court. When he reached for her hand again, she took it without looking away from his eyes.

“You are well?” he asked quietly, and deliberately glanced down at a long cut in the leather of her armor. The blood there had long since dried, the wound beneath closed up, but he would not have known any of that. The crowd had swallowed him as soon as he’d been named First Talon.

“Perfectly,” she said.

Too dangerous to return the question; she lifted a brow instead and he inclined his head. Whatever wounds he had taken in the fight against his cousin, they were nothing that bothered him. It was a relief; a small relief against a greater worry.

The song was coming to its end, cascades of notes rising around them, and they turned with it. Lucanis lifted their left hands in a sort of arch above them and they stepped closer, still watching each other. Around them, some of the other dancers reached out and dipped their partners or spun in a final flourish. Rook and Lucanis held the pose instead, his grip gentle around her hand. She searched his face for any sign of what he might be thinking and came up short.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked him, as quietly as she could.

The other couples around them broke apart and clapped. Cheers rose from the crowd, nearly swallowing his answer.

“You already have,” he said.

His eyes were soft. She didn’t know what that meant. Whatever she might have said, might have asked in return, it was caught in her throat along with her breath. The moment stretched, his hand in hers, and might have done so for longer if the cellist hadn’t played a low, testing note. Lucanis nodded to her and let go, stepping back. While her hand was still dropping, he melted back into the crowd and was gone.

Lenore did not watch him go. Instead, she turned and walked in the opposite direction as calmly as she could manage. At some point, she had stepped in some of the blood strewn across the floor. A trail of red followed her through the ebb and flow of people, fading somewhere between the dance floor and the exit.

#lenore ingellvar #lucanis dellamorte #lucanore #rookanis #rook x lucanis #dav #dav spoilers #veilguard #shivunin scrivening #da fanfic #ask response #ask game response #thank you for asking btw!! this was fun c:

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tanjamikaelson · 9 months ago

Text

STRANGE LOVE - CHAPTER 6

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 6: | YOU DON'T OWE ME |

Kie walked into Allison’s room, her energy vibrant and infectious as always, but today it did little to lift Allison’s spirits. Allison lay on her stomach, her phone in hand, staring at the screen with a mix of curiosity and dread. She had just received a message from Rafe, a name that now brought a confusing mix of emotions swirling inside her.

Rafe: Are you going to the movies tonight?

Allison's heart skipped a beat. His text carried a casual tone, but she knew Rafe too well by now to mistake it for anything but a calculated move. He wasn’t just asking; he was plotting. He wanted them to meet, to continue the twisted, intoxicating game they’d started. But Allison had already made plans—plans that involved Jordan, the sweet, steady presence who was everything Rafe wasn’t.

She typed her response with firm resolve, hoping it would send the right message: “I’m going with my sister. Don’t ask me to go with you.”

For a moment, her thumb hovered over the send button, the conflicting emotions tearing at her resolve. She couldn’t deny the thrill Rafe brought into her life, the way he made her feel alive, teetering on the edge of something dangerous and exhilarating. But she couldn’t allow herself to be pulled into his world—not tonight, not when she had promised Jordan they would sneak away together. She hit send, her breath catching in her throat as she watched the message deliver.

Kie plopped down on the bed next to her, completely unaware of the inner turmoil raging within her sister.

“You ready?” Kie asked, her voice bright and cheerful.

Allison quickly flipped her phone over, the screen now hidden from view. “Just need to change clothes,” she replied, her voice a little too light, a little too strained.

Kie’s eyes narrowed, her playful smile fading as she leaned in closer, noticing something. Without warning, she reached out and moved a strand of Allison’s hair aside. “Where did you get that hickey?”

Allison froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She had forgotten about the mark, the bruise that Rafe’s lips had left on her neck. She shot up from the bed, making a beeline for the mirror. The small, telltale sign of their encounter stared back at her, glaringly obvious against her pale skin.

“I have no idea,” Allison lied, but the words felt hollow even to her own ears.

Kie wasn’t convinced. Her sisterly instincts were too sharp for that. “So, what’s happening between you and Jordan? Everyone saw you give him that little peck the other day.”

Allison’s mind raced as she tried to find a way out of this. She needed Kie to believe it was Jordan, not Rafe, who had left that mark. “Me and him? Nothing serious,” she deflected, reaching for her foundation and applying it to cover a hickey.

But Kie wasn’t letting it go that easily. “I know there’s something. He asked for your number, and I know you were with him that night when you came home in the morning. And now you have a hickey. Did you see him last night too?”

Allison sighed, the weight of her secrets bearing down on her. “Well... we kinda hooked up,” she admitted, hoping that would be enough to satisfy Kie’s curiosity.

“Kinda?” Kie pressed, her tone skeptical.

Allison turned back to the mirror, avoiding her sister’s gaze as she rummaged through her closet. “It’s nothing serious, Kie. We slept together, and that’s it.”

Kie softened, her protective nature taking over. “I don’t have anything against you two being together. I just wanted to know.”

Allison sighed, wishing things could be as simple as Kie made them sound. “I don’t want a relationship, and he said he’s fine with just hooking up.”

Kie studied her sister, sensing the underlying tension in her voice. “Why don’t you want a relationship?” she asked gently.

Allison paused, her hand hovering over a burgundy summer dress. “I’ve never really been in one, and I don’t know if I want or if I’m ready for it,” she confessed, the vulnerability in her voice surprising even herself.

“You won’t know until you try,” Kie pointed out, her tone soft but encouraging.

“Don’t give me that speech, please,” Allison huffed, though she appreciated Kie’s concern more than she let on.

・ • ・ • ・

They met up with the boys and headed to the open field where the movie was being shown. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the gathering crowd, and for a moment, Allison felt a sense of peace. This was what she needed—a night of simplicity, of laughter, of normalcy.

“I’m so glad they’re still doing this,” Allison remarked as they walked to an empty spot in the field, her voice reflecting a rare moment of contentment.

“Yeah, keep calm, carry on, back to OBX life, you know?” Kie replied, turning to the boys behind her with a teasing grin. “Aren’t you glad I made you come?”

“Ecstatic,” Pope deadpanned, his sarcasm eliciting a laugh from the group.

“My couch was pretty comfy, I’ll be honest,” JJ added, though there was a glint of mischief in his eyes that suggested he was glad to be out, despite his words.

Allison spread out a blanket and sat cross-legged on it, feeling the cool grass beneath her. Kie and Jordan joined her, while the others brought chairs. For a moment, everything felt right—simple, easy, and without complications.

But the moment of peace didn’t last long. Allison went with Kie to get drinks, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in her stomach. As she ordered five Pepsis, she noticed Rafe out of the corner of her eye, walking away from Kie with a familiar smugness in his stride. Her heart sank, a sense of foreboding settling over her.

“What did Rafe want?” Allison asked when her voice was sharper than she intended.

Kie shrugged, clearly unimpressed by the encounter. “He said the boys did something.”

Allison’s mind raced. What had Rafe meant by that? She could feel her grip on the situation slipping, the delicate balance she’d tried to maintain starting to unravel.

“How do you know him?” Kie suddenly asked, narrowing her eyes at Allison with suspicion.

“Oh, I met him at a kook party,” Allison lied quickly, trying to sound nonchalant. She didn’t want Kie digging any deeper—didn’t want her to know just how entangled she was with Rafe Cameron.

When they returned to the group, Allison handed drinks to Jordan and Pope, trying to act normal, though her mind was still racing.

“Thank you, beautiful,” Jordan said, winking at her as she sat next to him.

She smiled at him, but the smile felt forced. The weight of Rafe’s presence lingered in the back of her mind, making it impossible to fully relax.

The moment was cut short when Kie spoke up, her voice laced with concern. “Just saw Rafe, and he said, ‘Tell your boy that we know what he did.’”

Allison’s heart skipped a beat. “What does that mean?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Um... where is he?” JJ asked, his tone more tense than usual.

Kie pointed to the back of the field, where the kooks—Topper, Rafe, and Kelce—stood watching them with smug, predatory expressions. “Right there,” she said, her voice tight with worry.

“Great, the whole death squad,” Pope muttered, his voice cracking with fear.

JJ, always the first to react, smacked Pope on the head, making him squeal. “Don’t stare, bro. Just warning you, if they corner me, I’m coming out swinging. If that doesn’t work, I got this,” he added, holding up his bag.

Allison looked at them, confusion and dread swirling in her chest. What had they done to anger the kooks this time? Whatever it was, it was serious—serious enough that Rafe was involved.

Pope nodded, his voice trembling slightly. “We just gotta stay in the group. They can’t get us in the group. Like a school of fish. Stay in the school.”

“I’m sorry, JJ... please tell me you did not bring a gun here. There are kids,” Kie said, her voice strained with panic.

“No! I didn’t bring the gun. Everything’s fine, okay?” JJ assured them, though his eyes betrayed his nervousness.

“Wow, that’s really convincing, JJ,” Kie said sarcastically, her voice laced with a mix of fear and frustration.

Allison chuckled despite the tension, trying to lighten the mood. “You two are like a married couple.”

Jordan nodded, his voice soft with affection. “You have no idea.”

Kie lightly hit Jordan’s shoulder, trying to mask her worry with humor. “No secrets among Pogues. What is Rafe talking about?”

“Kie,” Pope turned to her, his expression serious. “It might go down tonight.”

Allison’s heart lurched at his words. “What does that mean? ‘Might go down tonight.’ What did y’all do?”

But the boys ignored her, JJ whispering to Pope, “Deny, deny, deny.”

As the movie continued, Allison tried to focus on the screen, but her mind kept drifting to the seats where the kooks had been.

Something was about to happen—she could feel it in the pit of her stomach. The uneasy tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to spiral out of control.

Jordan put his arm around Allison, pulling her closer. The warmth of his body was comforting, but it did little to soothe the growing anxiety in her chest. He leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled away, her eyes darting back to the seats.

“Not here,” Allison whispered, gently shrugging off his arm. She couldn’t let her guard down, not when Rafe was lurking somewhere nearby, watching. The last thing she wanted was for anyone—especially Rafe—to know she was torn between him and Jordan.

Jordan frowned, his concern evident. “Is everything okay?”

Allison forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, I’m just... not in the mood right now.” But even as she said it, she knew her words lacked conviction. She could feel Rafe’s eyes burning into her back, a silent reminder of the chaos that seemed to follow him everywhere.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the field. The movie was halfway through when, suddenly, the boys stood up, their movements quick and purposeful.

“Hey, where are you going?” Allison asked, her voice tinged with worry.

“We gotta wring it out,” JJ replied, his tone casual, but the look in his eyes was anything but. He was lying, and not very convincingly.

“You gonna hold it for each other?” Kie asked, her face scrunching up in disgust.

Allison snorted, the absurdity of the situation momentarily cutting through the tension. But as the boys disappeared into the crowd, her unease returned tenfold. She glanced back at the empty seats, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Kie,” Allison whispered urgently, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “I think the boys are in trouble.”

Kie followed her gaze to where the kooks had been, realization dawning on her face. “Shit,” she muttered, grabbing JJ’s bag with the gun. The two sisters muttered hurried apologies as they jumped over people, pushing their way through the crowd toward the back of the screen.

The night air was thick with tension as they rounded the corner behind the screen. The scene that greeted them made Allison’s blood run cold. Rafe had Jordan by the collar, his fist connecting with Jordan’s jaw in a sickening thud. Jordan stumbled back, trying to recover, but Rafe was relentless, his eyes burning with a fury that was all too familiar.

“Rafe, stop!” Allison screamed, her voice breaking as she watched Rafe turn on JJ, who was already on the ground, trying to protect himself from the onslaught. Topper was grappling with Pope, his hands wrapped around Pope’s throat, cutting off his air.

Kie, acting on pure instinct, swung JJ’s backpack at Topper, hitting him square in the back. “Let go of him, Topper! Fascist asshole!” she yelled, her voice filled with a mix of fear and rage. But Topper, unfazed, grabbed the backpack and tossed it aside, his grip on Pope tightening.

Allison’s eyes locked on Rafe, who was about to land another punch on JJ. Without thinking, she ran toward him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back with all the strength she could muster. “Let him go, Rafe!” she pleaded, her voice desperate.

Rafe turned to her, his eyes wild and unrecognizable. He grabbed her arms, shoving her down with a force that took her breath away. “Stay out of this, princess,” he snarled, his voice cold and detached, as if the Rafe she had spent the night with was a completely different person.

Before Rafe could turn back to JJ, Jordan—blood trickling from his split lip—took advantage of the distraction and threw a punch that landed squarely on Rafe’s face.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Jordan shouted, his voice trembling with both anger and fear.

Rafe laughed, wiping the blood from his nose with a wicked grin, but before he could retaliate, Kie did the unthinkable. In a desperate bid to end the fight, she grabbed a nearby can of lighter fluid and doused the screen with it, setting it ablaze. The flames shot up quickly, engulfing the screen and casting an eerie, flickering light over the scene.

The sudden blaze created the perfect distraction. The kooks froze, their attention momentarily diverted from their fight. The shock on their faces was palpable as the flames roared to life, lighting up the night sky.

Jordan wasted no time. He rushed to Allison, helping her to her feet with a concerned look in his eyes. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Allison replied, her voice shaky. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, making her feel jittery and unsteady. “Let’s help JJ.”

They found JJ lying on the ground, blood covering his face from a gash above his eyebrow. His breathing was labored, and he looked dazed, but he managed a weak smile when he saw them.

Allison’s anger toward Rafe flared up again, her chest tightening as she glanced over at him. He was still standing there, watching the chaos unfold with an unreadable expression. She didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to acknowledge the twisted connection they had. But she could feel his gaze on her, a silent reminder of the tangled web they were caught in.

・ • ・ • ・

“So Pope sank Topper’s boat? Did he lose his mind?” Allison asked Jordan as they entered the Carrera’s house, trying to piece together the events that had led to this moment.

Jordan shrugged, his arm still wrapped protectively around Allison. “Maybe it was a stupid idea.”

“It definitely was,” Allison agreed, the frustration in her voice clear. She hated how things had escalated, how the feud between the kooks and the Pogues had once again led to violence. “Come here,” she added, pulling Jordan towards her room.

Inside, the tension began to ease, though the weight of the night still hung over them. Allison led Jordan to the bathroom, gently nudging him to stand between her legs as she sat on the countertop. Her hands were steady as she cleaned his cuts and bruises, but inside, she was anything but calm.

“Sorry,” she murmured when Jordan flinched, the sting of the antiseptic biting at his raw skin.

“It’s okay,” Jordan replied, his hand resting on her thigh in a gesture that was both comforting and intimate.

“Rafe got you good, huh?” Allison noted, dabbing at the cut on his lip.

Jordan chuckled lightly, though the sound was strained. “Yeah, who would’ve thought a pretty boy could punch like that?”

“Don’t underestimate the kooks,” Allison said, her tone softening as she focused on the task at hand.

“Don’t underestimate the Pogues,” Jordan countered, his voice taking on a more serious edge.

Allison sighed, her heart heavy with the weight of it all. “I don’t like this war between Kooks and Pogues. If you can’t be friends, at least don’t fight.”

Jordan’s hand tightened slightly on her thigh, his jaw clenching. “Easier said than done. But when I saw Rafe push you, I wanted to rip his head off,” he admitted, his voice thick with anger.

“That’s a little extreme,” Allison said, though she couldn’t deny the flare of warmth in her chest at his protectiveness.

“It’s what he deserves,” Jordan replied, his eyes darkening with fury.

Allison placed her hand gently on the unbruised side of his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “Okay, can we not talk about him?” she asked, her voice softening. She didn’t want to think about Rafe right now—didn’t want to let him ruin this moment with Jordan.

Jordan’s expression softened as well, his anger giving way to something warmer, something more tender. “What do you want to talk about?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.

Allison leaned in, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, “I don’t want to talk.”

Their kiss was slow at first, tentative as if they were both trying to erase the events of the night with each other’s touch. But it quickly deepened, the tension of the night melting away as they lost themselves in the warmth of the moment. Jordan’s hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He winced slightly, the pain from his bruises catching up with him, and pulled back with a rueful smile.

“I’m sorry,” Allison whispered, guilt creeping into her voice.

“It was worth it,” Jordan chuckled, though there was a hint of discomfort in his laugh.

Allison laughed softly, the sound a little more genuine this time. “How about we take a shower to relax?” she suggested, her voice tinged with a playful edge.

Jordan’s eyes lit up with amusement and desire. “I don’t see why not,” he agreed, his voice huskier than before.

They quickly stripped off their clothes, the night’s tension still lingering in the air between them. The hot water ran down their bodies, washing away the dirt and grime from the fight, but the water did little to wash away the emotional weight of the night. As the steam rose around them, Allison pressed herself against Jordan, the heat of the water matching the growing warmth between them. Her hands explored his body with a mixture of tenderness and urgency, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the tension still knotted there.

Jordan leaned against the tiled wall, his eyes half-closed as he let her touch soothe him. The cuts and bruises from the fight were still fresh, but Allison’s touch was a welcome balm. She kissed down his neck, her lips gentle, but there was an undercurrent of need in every caress.

“I can help you relax,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the water cascading down their bodies.

Jordan’s breath hitched, his hands finding their way to her waist, pulling her closer. He was still feeling the sting of Rafe’s punches, but at this moment, with Allison’s body pressed against his, he could almost forget the pain. Almost.

Allison kissed him, her lips soft but insistent, her hands moving down his chest, over the bruises and scars. She could feel the tension leaving his body with every kiss, every touch. He responded in kind, his hands roaming over her wet skin, savoring the feel of her under his fingertips.

As the kiss deepened, their movements became more frantic, more desperate, as if they were trying to forget everything that had happened that night. But no matter how hard they tried, the tension was still there, a lingering reminder of the fight, of Rafe, of everything that had gone wrong.

They lost themselves in each other, the water washing away the blood and sweat, but not the memories. Allison felt a pang of guilt as Jordan’s lips found her collarbone, trailing kisses down her chest. She wanted to be fully present with him, to give him the comfort and connection he deserved, but her mind kept drifting back to Rafe—his touch, his words, the way he had looked at her that night when they were alone.

Jordan noticed her hesitation and pulled back slightly, his brow furrowing in concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft, searching her face for any sign of distress.

Allison forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, but the words felt hollow, even to her. She didn’t want to ruin the moment and didn't want to let her tangled feelings for Rafe get in the way of what she had with Jordan. But the truth was, she was far from fine. The events of the night had shaken her more than she wanted to admit.

Jordan seemed to sense her inner turmoil, but he didn’t press her. Instead, he pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace. They stood there under the spray of the shower, holding each other, the water mixing with the tears that Allison hadn’t realized were falling.

“I’ve got you,” Jordan whispered, his voice steady, reassuring. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t demand explanations. He just held her, letting her know that she wasn’t alone, that he was there for her, no matter what.

And for a moment, Allison allowed herself to lean into that comfort, to let herself be held. She rested her head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat steadying her own. She wished she could stay in this moment forever, where things were simple, where she didn’t have to think about Rafe or the complicated mess that her life had become.

But deep down, she knew that this moment wouldn’t last. The reality of her situation was waiting just outside the bathroom door, and sooner or later, she would have to face it.

・ • ・ • ・

Jordan was the first to wake the next morning, the events of the previous night still fresh in his mind. He carefully extricated himself from Allison’s sleeping form, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before slipping out of bed. He headed to the bathroom, needing to clear his head and freshen up after the night’s turmoil.

As he searched for a towel in the cabinet, something caught his eye—a small bag tucked away in the corner. His heart sank when he realized what it was: a bag of white powder. Jordan’s stomach churned with a mix of anger and concern as he grabbed the bag and returned to the bedroom, where Allison was just beginning to stir.

“What is this?” Jordan’s voice was firm, almost harsh, as he stood by the bed, holding the bag out for her to see.

Allison’s eyes flew open, widening in shock as she saw the bag in his hand. Panic surged through her, but she tried to keep her voice steady as she asked, “Where did you find that?”

“In your bathroom,” Jordan replied, his tone demanding answers.

Allison’s mind raced as she tried to come up with a believable story, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew lying would only dig her deeper into this mess, but she couldn’t bear the thought of Jordan knowing the truth. “Why were you searching through my bathroom?” she deflected, trying to buy herself some time.

But Jordan wasn’t having it. “Don’t avoid my question,” he said, his voice unyielding.

Allison sighed, realizing there was no way out of this without at least some truth. “You know what that is,” she admitted, crawling over the bed toward him, trying to take the bag from his hands. But Jordan moved it out of her reach, his expression unreadable.

“Are you using it?” Jordan questioned, his tone serious, a hint of fear creeping into his voice.

Allison hesitated, then shook her head. “No,” she lied, her voice a little too quick, a little too defensive.

“Then why do you have it?” Jordan pressed, his concern deepening.

Allison took a deep breath, deciding to mix a bit of truth with her lies. “Okay, I’ll be honest. I used it at the kook party with Jessica, and she gave it to me. But I haven’t used it since.” The truth was, she had used it again, after the party, and it wasn’t Jessica who had given her this particular bag—it was Rafe after they had slept together in his car.

Jordan’s jaw tightened, his eyes searching hers for any sign of deception. “If you don’t want to use it, you can throw it away,” he suggested, his voice softening, though the worry was still evident.

Allison’s heart ached at the concern in his eyes. She didn’t want to lose him over something like this, but she also didn’t want him to find out about Rafe. “Jordan, please don’t tell anyone. If Kie’s parents find out, they’ll tell mine, and I’ll have to go back home. I like it here. I like it here with you,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions as she knelt on the bed in front of him, her hands cradling his face. “Please, promise me you won’t say anything.”

Jordan’s expression softened, but the concern in his eyes remained. He wanted to believe her, wanted to trust her, but the sight of that bag had shaken him. “How can I be sure you’re not using it?” he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.

“You can watch me throw it away,” Allison offered, holding out her hand for the bag.

Jordan hesitated, then placed the bag in her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. “You can get it again if you want,” he pointed out, his tone cautious.

Allison looked up at him, her heart heavy. “You just need to trust me. Please,” she whispered, her voice filled with desperation.

Jordan stared at her for a long moment, his internal struggle clear on his face. Finally, he nodded, though the worry in his eyes didn’t fully dissipate. “Okay.” He watched as she walked to the bathroom, his stomach churning with anxiety.

Allison flushed the contents of the bag down the toilet, the small act feeling like both a relief and a betrayal. She turned back to Jordan, forcing a smile as she reentered the bedroom. “It’s done,” she said, though the words felt hollow.

Jordan gave her a small, hesitant smile in return, but the tension between them was palpable. He stepped forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I trust you,” he murmured against her hair, though his voice carried the weight of unspoken fears.

Allison wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest, the guilt gnawing at her. She knew she had made a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the warmth of Jordan’s embrace, hoping it would be enough to keep the darkness at bay.

・ • ・ • ・

The next day, Allison found herself back at The Wreck, the familiar routine a welcome distraction from the tumultuous events of the past few days. She was wiping down tables on the balcony after the lunch rush when she heard a voice behind her—a voice that sent a chill down her spine.

“Can we talk?” Rafe’s tone was unusually soft, almost apologetic, but Allison could sense the underlying tension in his voice.

For the past few days, Allison had ignored Rafe’s messages and calls, still angry about the fight at the movies and everything it had stirred up inside her. She rolled her eyes, refusing to turn around to face him. “No,” she replied coldly, her voice laced with the bitterness she’d been holding onto.

Rafe stepped closer, his presence looming over her. “Hey, listen. I know you’re mad at me right now,” he began, but Allison cut him off with a sharp laugh, the sound bitter and filled with unresolved frustration. She moved to the next table, determined to ignore him, but Rafe wasn’t giving up. He followed her, placing his hand on her shoulder in a gesture that was both familiar and unwelcome.

“Don’t touch me!” Allison snapped, spinning around to face him, her eyes flashing with anger. She shrugged off his hand, taking a step back to put some distance between them.

Rafe raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his expression a mix of hurt and confusion. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He looked disheveled, his eyes red-rimmed and unfocused, as if he hadn’t slept—or maybe had indulged in something far stronger than sleep. “I’m sorry I pushed you that night.”

Allison shook her head, crossing her arms defensively. “I’m not mad because of that,” she replied, her tone cold. She was trying to keep her emotions in check, but the sight of him standing there, looking so lost and out of control, made it difficult.

“Then why?” Rafe asked genuine confusion in his voice. It was as if he couldn’t comprehend why she was upset, why his actions had hurt her so deeply.

“Do you really need to ask?” Allison’s voice wavered as she tried to keep her anger in check. “You beat JJ, hit Jordan, and Topper almost choked Pope to death. Are you guys fucking crazy?” The words tumbled out, each one laced with the pain and frustration she’d been holding back for days.

Rafe’s expression hardened, his confusion quickly giving way to defensiveness. “They sank Topper’s boat. What do you expect us to do?” he shot back, his voice rising in anger.

“Buy a new boat,” Allison suggested, her tone exasperated. She couldn’t believe how easily he justified violence, how quick he was to defend actions that had put her friends in danger.

“Pogues need to pay for their actions,” Rafe insisted, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. “Not to mention that Jordan guy tried to kiss you.”

Allison’s heart skipped a beat, her pulse quickening as she realized what Rafe had just admitted. “Yeah, I saw that. At the movies, but you moved your head,” he added, his tone accusatory, as if her rejection of Jordan’s kiss somehow justified his behavior.

Allison’s eyes narrowed, her anger flaring. “He didn’t try to kiss me,” she lied, her voice sharp. “He was telling me something.”

Rafe laughed, a hollow, bitter sound that sent a chill down her spine. “Yeah, right,” he muttered, his eyes dark with jealousy.

“Even if he did, so what? You don’t own me because we slept together once,” Allison snapped, her voice trembling with both anger and hurt. She couldn’t believe Rafe was trying to control her, trying to dictate who she could and couldn’t be with.

“Oh, is that so?” Rafe questioned, his tone mocking, as if he didn’t believe for a second that she meant what she was saying.

“Yes,” Allison replied firmly, though her voice wavered with the emotions she was struggling to keep in check. She grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the storage room where they could talk without being overheard. “Look at you, Rafe. You’re a mess, high on drugs in the middle of the day.”

Rafe’s bitter laugh echoed in the small space. “And he isn’t,” he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m not comparing you to him,” Allison corrected, her voice softening as she tried to reach the part of him that wasn’t consumed by anger and jealousy. “You need to get yourself together.”

“And then you’ll talk to me?” Rafe asked, his tone challenging, daring her to say yes.

Allison sighed, running a hand through her hair as she tried to find the right words. “I don’t know, Rafe. Try it and see what happens,” she replied honestly. She wasn’t sure what would come of this conversation, wasn’t sure if Rafe was even capable of change, but she had to give him the chance to prove her wrong. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice quieter, more vulnerable.

Rafe’s bravado faltered, his anger giving way to something more raw, more real. “You don’t care enough to know,” he said, his voice low, almost defeated, as he turned to leave.

“I do care, you know?” Allison’s words stopped him in his tracks. “But I also care about my friends.”

Rafe turned back to her, his eyes searching hers, the anger and hurt etched into his features softening for just a moment. “I don’t want to be this way,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Allison felt a pang of sadness as she looked at him, seeing the boy behind the bravado, the one who was lost and scared, hiding behind his tough exterior. She took a step closer, her voice gentle as she spoke. “You have to want to change, Rafe. And you need help. I can’t be the one to save you.”

Rafe’s gaze dropped to the floor, the weight of her words settling on his shoulders. “I don’t want to lose you, Allison,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“You never had me to lose,” Allison said softly, her heart aching as she spoke the truth. “But if you want to start over, clean up your act. Maybe then we can talk.”

Rafe nodded slowly, a flicker of determination crossing his features. “I’ll try,” he said, though the words were more of a promise to himself than to her.

Allison gave him a small, sad smile, hoping against hope that he would follow through. “That’s all I can ask,” she replied, her voice gentle but firm.

Rafe lingered for a moment as if wanting to say more, but the words seemed to elude him. Finally, he turned and left the storage room, leaving Allison standing there, her mind swirling with thoughts and emotions she couldn’t quite sort out.

As she watched him go, Allison felt a mix of relief and sadness. She hoped Rafe would follow through on his promise to change, but deep down, she knew it wouldn’t be easy. For now, she had to focus on herself, on the people who truly cared about her. But a part of her couldn’t help but worry—about Rafe, about Jordan, about the tangled mess her life had become.

TAG LIST: @tiaamberxx

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thegirlwiththemost-cake · 1 month ago

Text

Dutch(ab*sive)Xreader(ab*sed)

Hello, this is my first time writing a fanfic (I’ve written before obviously I only meant this is my first post), if you don’t like my writing, block me. It’s THAT simple :)

If you guys don’t mind, the MC in the fanfic (you) is already established. You don’t have a name (ambiguous) but you are mentioned as half black, half white, with curly brown hair and brown eyes. You are also American, with also implied mentions of r*cism.

I don’t allow people copying my work btw, anything of the sort will get reported.

tags/warnings: MDNI heavy angst, dark romance, physical abuse (receiving), emotional manipulation, domestic violence themes, toxic relationship dynamics, coercion, fear-based loyalty, racial marginalization, colorism, rough sex, possessive sex, breeding kink undertones, ownership kink, dubious consent, cockwarming, semi-public tension, dacryphilia (crying kink), power imbalance, manipulation kink, degradation (verbal and emotional), size kink, manhandling, emotional dependency, stockholm syndrome elements, rough language, light choking, dirty talk, praise kink twisted into degration, loss of agency themes, internalized racism, unsafe s*x (no c*ndom mention), p in v, missionary, canon-era setting, dutch van der linde x half-black!reader, no use of y/n, explicit content, p*rn with plot, hurt/comfort with heavy emphasis on hurt.

_____

You were sitting on the edge of the bedroll, pulling at a loose thread on your skirt. The camp outside was mostly quiet. Little Jack running around barefoot in the wet dirt, Marybeth reading a hearty romance book like the devoted bookworm she waw, Josiah nowhere to be found. A few people still talked low around the dying fire, but nobody was paying you any mind. Nobody ever really did.

You heard his boots first. Heavy. Slow. You didn’t even have to look up to know it was Dutch.

He stepped inside the tent, not saying a word. His shadow stretched long across the dirt. You kept your eyes down, hoping if you stayed small enough, he’d just walk past you. But he didn’t. He stood there for a long second. Watching you.

When he finally moved, it was quick. His hand cracked across your cheek—not hard enough to leave blood or bruise deep, but enough that your head snapped to the side and your eyes watered. You stayed still. You knew better than to pull away. Knew better than to show him weakness.

You got used to this. There weren’t even any signs of his abuse.

“You don’t listen,” he said low, almost like he was telling you a secret.

You nodded, fast, hands trembling in your lap. Your mouth was too dry to answer.

Dutch crouched down in front of you, one hand gripping your chin tight between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. His eyes weren’t angry. They were calm. Worse than angry.

"You make it so hard sometimes, girl," he said, voice soft, almost tender. "I don't wanna do this."

You could smell whiskey on his breath. You could smell the smoke in his coat. You nodded again, because that’s all you could do. All you could do without him getting mad. He sighed and let your face go, brushing his thumb once over the spot he hit like he could erase it. Like it meant nothing. What he left on you didn’t turn blue or purple, it hallowed you out completely.

Because he does it again, and again, and again. Until you was nothing but a map of his anger, his frustration, his lust, his passion, his blinded versions of love. There were no livid welts, no angry red lines or purple splotches to reflect the violence within him and spill onto your exterior. Only you could feel the touch of his hands as they ran their course beneath the skin, leaving you wracked with the sort of ache that needed no bandages and no salves.

Above all, the cruelty of it was in the familiarity. The way Dutch's touch lingered, possessive, claiming ownership. The way his voice, now low and almost tender again, hid the cruelty in the harshness that preceded it.

Because you’d felt this before, haven’t you? The cold fingers pressed sharply against the flesh, the concrete brutality of his will. The way his eyes could cut and wound more than any whip ever could.

You were used to this.

The instant shock of it had faded within you, leaving only the ache of expectation. Like the dull, persistent throb of an old injury, still painful but grown accustomed. A constant reminder of what was.

Sometimes, in moments of rare quiet, you thought of leaving. Of walking away and never looking back. Camp included. Sanctuary included. Dutch included.

But where would you go?

He was your haven. Your hard, unyielding refuge in a world that had no place for a girl like you. One as not quite white as the real ladies and the townspeople and not black enough to pass among the maids, railroad workers and fieldhands you sometimes slipped food to. Born half of each, you didn't fit anywhere. Not in this country. Not in the free land of America. Not in this world.

Dutch saw you. He made a place for you.

No matter how his hands might grab roughly, however hard his words cut in to break you.

He saw you. In a way no one else truly did. Beneath the soft brown skin, the curly hair, the gentle curves. He looked beyond the skin others judged you by and found value. Found a purpose for you along his path.

Dutch saw you. He did. No one else ever had. Oh, they'd looked, sure—the leers and sideline glances followed you everywhere, sticky and inescapable as flypaper. But looking wasn't seeing. Not truly.

Men like Mr. Magistrate and the others, they just wanted a pretty plaything to admire and disparage in equal measure. A bit of dark sugar to sweeten their evenings. Before him, you’d been nothing. No man's woman and no woman's friend - too tan to be properly desirable, too light-skinned to be safely invisible.

But Dutch?

He looked into you and saw. The girl behind the colour, the womb-child his blood would one day make women envy.

Wasn't that worth something? More than just a chance to flee to some distant city or Mighty fortress?

"You know I love you," he said.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know how.

He stood up slow, fixing the cuffs of his shirt like nothing had happened. Then he looked at you again, like he was waiting for you to say something.

You swallowed hard. Your jaw ached.

"I’m sorry," you whispered.

Dutch smiled then — not warm, but proud. Like you’d finally done something right.

"Good girl," he said, and turned to leave.

Fear and confusion tangled through you, as familiar as the well-worn grooves of a favorite chair. You couldn't deny the ache, the dull throb of pain that always lingered after one of Dutch's... conversations. But beneath that, lesser but no less constant, was the hollow desire to please him. His abuse felt like a necessary evil.

You sat there a long time after he left, hands still on your lap, trying not to cry. Because you knew if you cried, he’d see it. And next time, he might not be so gentle.

The next morning, the camp was alive like nothing ever happened. Pots clanged, horses snorted, somebody laughed too loud over by the wagons.

You moved slow, careful not to wince. Your face still throbbed, but no one noticed. Why would they? There were no marks they could see. Just a dull, aching weight under the skin. You sat near the fire, shelling peas with Tilly and Mary-Beth. They chatted easy, smiling about some fella they met in town, but you barely heard them. You kept your head low, your hands steady. You knew better than to draw attention to yourself.

"Hey," Tilly said, nudging you with her elbow. "You alright? You seem... quiet." Your heart fell to your underwear, had she noticed? But however, you forced a smile. “Just tired," you said. Tilly shrugged, accepting it. Why wouldn’t she?

Tired was normal. Tired didn’t raise questions.

Dutch walked by just then, talking to Hosea. His coat was open, hands moving as he spun another one of his big ideas. He quietly sat on a chair in front of Hosea’s tent. You felt his presence even when he didn’t look at you. That heavy pull of him, like a rope around your throat.

Nobody knew.

Nobody saw.

Not even Arthur, who usually caught every lie the camp spun. You weren't even sure if you wanted them to see. If they knew... what then? You weren’t sure if they’d believe you. Not about Dutch. Not about their "father," their "leader."

You didn’t belong anywhere.

Not out there, where you were too dark to be safe. Not in here, where your skin kept secrets that lighter skin couldn't. You were invisible in a camp full of people who thought they loved you.

Later that day, you caught Dutch watching you across the fire. His mouth curved into a small smile — not cruel, not sharp. Just soft. Like he really did love you. Like you were his. And maybe you were.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t run.

—-SMUT PART, CAN BE SKIPPED—-

The stick of the chair groaned under Dutch’s weight when he shifted, his knee knocking against the side post lazily, careless, like he couldn’t even be bothered to hide how wound up he was getting just sitting there; you caught it right away—the taut line of his thigh, the flex of his hand against the wood, the way his eyes, those deep, black-water eyes lifted slow and heavy from Hosea’s face to yours, dragging across your body like he owned it already.

He looked at you.

And it wasn’t just a glance, not something he tossed over without thinking; it was deliberate, sharp enough to catch the breath right in your throat, hot enough that even the dry dust in the air felt like it thickened between you—his mouth twitched up at the corner, just a little, not a smile, not a smirk, but something darker, heavier, something that said he knew you saw the way he was getting hard in his pants, that he wasn’t ashamed, that he wanted you to see, that he wanted you burning up just like him.

He was a man. Of course he had urges, wants, cravings, needs. It was obvious he was wanting. And you were attracted to him, how else did you come to be his?

You felt your knees go loose under your skirt, felt the thin cotton catch against your sweaty skin as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, throat dry as a bone; you hated how your heart kicked up every time he looked at you like that, how your body betrayed you, lighting up under his gaze even when your ribs still ached from the last time he’d pressed you up against the canvas wall of the tent, his hand fast and punishing across your side where no one would see.

Still…

…You turned without a word, slipping between the tents like a ghost, your pulse thrumming so loud in your ears it drowned out the low murmur of the gang behind you; you didn’t have to look over your shoulder to know he would follow, didn’t have to check—Dutch didn’t need coaxing when he wanted something. You wanted him to chase you, to catch you, to claim you.

You ducked into his tent, the canvas sagging heavy in the heat, the smell of leather and tobacco hanging thick; you barely had time to catch your breath before you heard it—the soft tread of boots behind you, the shift of the flap—and then he was there.

A single step, two at most, and he stood before you.

Looming. Towering. Trading his generous height to loom, to hover.

Dutch reached out, his large and rough hand cupping your cheek. Finger and thumb curling, possessive in their attention.

He pressed closer, until he could feel the whisper of your breath, the quick inhale, the racing of your pulse. His voice was a low and intimate rumble. "You know what I want, Sugar.”

You could feel the heat of him, the rigid line of his cock pressing against you through his pants, hard and thick and urgent.

He wanted you. That much was blatantly clear.

And, may heaven help you, you wanted him too.

“Darlin’,” he said, low and rough like gravel dragged across wood, voice a breath against your ear.

Your heart stuttered, your body answering before your mind could catch up—your fingers fisting in the front of his shirt, dragging him closer, your mouth catching his without thinking, desperate, messy, your teeth scraping his lower lip and his hand coming up to cup the back of your head, fingers winding tight in your hair.

He kissed you like he meant to devour you, no slow burn, no gentle teasing—just heat and need, the bruising press of his mouth stealing your breath; His hand slid down, cupping your ass through your thin skirts, squeezing hard enough to make you whimper into his mouth, "Mnnh", your legs were already trembling.

Dutch broke the kiss only to bite a line down your throat, sharp little nips that made you gasp, hands fumbling at your waist, pushing your skirts up around your hips, rough, uncaring; his mouth trailed lower, teeth scraping along your collarbone, while his hand slid between your thighs, two thick fingers pressing against the damp heat there through your drawers.

"You feel that?" He growled against your skin, breath hot and filthy, "All this wet for me?"

You whimpered again, hips bucking against his hand, your voice a broken, needy thing, "Uhhnn, Dutch—"

He made a sound low in his chest, something between a growl and a purr, and you barely had time to breathe before he hooked his fingers in the waist of your drawers, yanking them down with a rough tug that had you stumbling against him; he caught you, of course he caught you, one strong arm banded around your waist, holding you upright, holding you still, like he always did.

His pants followed swiftly after, the button and zipper surrendering just as promptly before you tugged the fabric down lean thighs, thick calves. The sound of denim hitting the tent floor seemed to echo in the charged air.

Your hand reached down, nimble fingers working at Dutch's belt, unfastening it with fleeting ease. The leather strap slid through the loop with barely a whisper. The evidence of his arousal sprung free like a jack-in-the-box, the thick, turgid flesh slapping against the soft swell of your belly. The heated length throbbed, already slick with building need. The plump head wept with want, his pre-cum smeared against your hip bone.

You licked your lips unconsciously, desire clawing at you as you gazed down at his impressive manhood, hard and urgent against you. A sense of feminine triumph raced through you.

You felt the heavy drag of his cock against your bare thigh, hot and slick at the tip, and instinctively you reached for him, your hand wrapping around the thick, pulsing length of him, feeling him twitch against your palm.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, forehead dropping to rest against yours for a heartbeat, voice thick and cracked, "Goddamn, girl..."

He didn’t waste time, didn’t give you a second to think—just lifted you up, hands gripping your thighs, hauling you against him so fast your head spun, your back hitting the rough wood pole in the centre of the tent with a soft thud; you wrapped your legs around him automatically, skirts bunched up around your waist, the cool air kissing your bare skin.

Then he was pushing into you, slow at first, the thick head of his cock stretching you open, inch by aching inch, until you were full to the point of pain, a sharp, delicious ache that had you throwing your head back with a ragged cry, "Aaahhhnnn—!"

He groaned against your neck, voice wrecked and hungry, "Fuck, girl, so tight—so goddamn sweet—"

His hips started to move, slow and deep, grinding into you with every thrust, dragging a helpless, breathless moan from your lips each time, "Uhhnn—mnhhh—!" your fingers digging into the broad span of his back, clinging to him like a lifeline.

It was rough; it was desperate, but there was something else too—something soft buried underneath the heat and the hunger—the way he kissed your temple between thrusts, the way he murmured broken little things against your skin, half nonsense, half confession, like he needed you just as much as he needed air. He was always at one with words. A poet. A charmer, everyone said. A man at home in the gaudy, guttering glow of the bottle lamps. The kind of man who could talk the Devil Himself into handing over his pitchfork.

Your body burnt for him, every nerve ending lit up like fire, and even though fear still curled cold in your gut—fear of what he could do, what he had done—you couldn’t help the way you clung to him, the way you pressed your mouth to his jaw, whispering his name like a prayer.

"Dutch—Dutch—"

His rhythm faltered when you said it, his arms tightening around you, his cock driving deeper, harder, the wet slap of flesh against flesh filling the small, sweltering space.

His other hand gripped your thick thigh, high up, fingers sinking into the tender flesh as he hoisted your leg higher. The new angle let him drive into you harder, deeper, the thick head of his cock kissing a spot so deliciously sensitive that you saw stars. That made your angels on your two shoulders sing.

“Dutch... oh god, D-dutchhhhhh…” You tried to scream his name, to cry out in ecstasy, but it emerged a muffled, garbled mess.

You felt yourself unravelling, felt the tight coil in your belly snap, pleasure tearing through you so hard it left you sobbing into his shoulder, "Nnnnahhh—!"

He groaned low and deep, hips stuttering, and then you felt it—the hot flood of him spilling inside you, his whole body shaking with the force of it, his mouth pressing hard against yours in a kiss that was all teeth and breath and desperation.

For a long moment, you just clung to each other, bodies slick and trembling, the world outside the tent fading away until there was nothing left but the sound of your ragged breathing and the thud of your heart against his chest.

And still, even as he set you back down on shaky legs, even as he tucked himself away and straightened your skirts with hands that were almost gentle, his fingers lingering on your skin, you felt it. His hunger. His ownership. And you? You were the most important piece. The queen on his chessboard, the treasure in his chest, the very reason he bothered to carve out this sanctuary marooned in a hostile world.

#dutch van der linde #dutch x reader #tw abuse #rdr2 dutch #rdr2 #dutch #smut #fanfic #fanfiction

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shoegazingmonad · 2 months ago

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The 'THANKS FAG' doubles as a thank you to Vriska and Future Vrissy (adamantGriftress). If 8r8k is foreshadowing this Totality, which is now looking pretty likely, then Vrissy might have some kind of major role in it the same way Vriska does. When Vrissy walks in on Gamzee and Vriska doing it, they both scream in a way that reminds John of his dreams. And in the dream we actually get to see, there's a glimpse of an unspecific pair of lips and fangs reused from Vriska's in 8r8k.

Though what really makes me suspect this comes from this conversation and the prison segment. Vrissy's face is obscured in the speech bubble, on an all black background. In the next panel there's a scribble to show Harry's frustration, but the similar placement just makes it look like her icon is twisting in on itself. Vrissy isn't responding because she's in prison, and back on the first page of that upd8 it asks her 'What will you do?', the same phrase Vriska was repeatedly asking whilst she was in The Point. It also emphasizes that she's 'alone' - with Vriska's presence tagged on like it's irrelevant.

And metaphorically, she is alone. Vriska doesn't actually do anything to assist Vrissy or interact with anything in a way that suggests she's even physically present, and she's literally sat in the some spot the pumpkin is in Jailbreak, whose presence is constantly being called into question. Vrissy's the one who manipulates the guards and gets herself out of there. It's more like Vriska is acting as a ghost here, whilst Vrissy performs a subtle recreation of what seems to be her leaving The Point in the far future.

Jane even calls into question whether it'll be Vrissy or Vriska going into The Point whilst Vriska is snooping around. The next panel then shows her pointing at it whilst an unspecified Vriska's face is overlaying it. Other little details include Vrissy replying to Harry and saying he can't 'Survive a Singular Goddamn Second without Me', like a second singularity (which is a name Calliope uses for the plot point) has just occurred, and she's here to rescue him, similar to Vriska in 8r8k. She also calls the prison a 'high-security 8lack site' (more black holes), and speaking of 8r8ks, she mentions a 'Psionic 8r8kthrough' and that she's 'taking a 8it of a 8r8k' right after escaping.

Anyway, The Point is she can't W8 to try this shit (her newly aquired powers) on Everything! And also that she can't wait to Torment Tavvy infinity-fold. Which is another noteworthy topic: Tavvy's obviously going to do some crazy black hole related bullshit later on, and there's already good reason for why he might go helltier (all them damn falls...) so maybe this is the answer to the sprinkler mishap.

Gamzee descends three times; Outside the door to the school, after Tavvy pauses in the hall, and when he gets stuck on the sprinkler. Before the last fall two things happen - Gamzee's body hits and displaces an exit sign, falling with it's arrow pointed straight down as though their escape is downwards (hell). Then they get sprayed with water that resembles milk. Gamzee uses milk for 'redemption', so they should be getting redeemed of something, and the fire alarm sounding immediately after indicates there's supposed to be a fire present, which there's plenty of when Vriska goes helltier. Emphasis on the hallways and the grayscale architecture kind of make the school look like the meteor too.

194 brings up a couple Point related topics, that Vrissy is 'Over The Fucking Moon' which Vriska literally is in 8r8k. She calls the sequences of events that happen at the school the 'The Picture of Gr8tness incarn8!!!!!!!!' so yeah I do think this is what they're getting at. Sweet.

I should probably be comparing this to the pepsi upd8 though if the jailbreak is a retelling of Vrissy's future ascension, since the stuff that happens in each is pretty similar. Yiffy and Tavvy both end up entering a vent (compared to the fenestrated planes the audience watch through) and spy on Rose, Jade and Kanaya. They're 'becoming the audience' here so there's some meta stuff going on beforehand. Tavvy then falls through the ceiling with a CRACK, and in John's anime dream the Totality (that I've already theorised Tavvy will be the cause of) start with a crack. This probably means that his own 'ascension' is the cause of the Totality. Yiffy isn't visible afterwards despite being the instigator so I presume this is something Tavvy'll do alone but Yiffy may have prompted it to some degree.

#Much helltier talk today #homestuck 2 #hs:bc #vrissy maryam lalonde #vriska serket #tavvy crocker #tavros crocker #yiffy longstocking lalonde harley #ramblings #Serious HS Stuff

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inthefightgarden · 1 year ago

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so umm i just finished mother of learning in like 5 days, and my brain is now full of wriggling squiggling worms. i'm also just starting a re-read with the audiobook and it is already giving me even more questions and ideas! so here i am to share my wormy burden ^_^

anyway, here's something chapter 1 started me thinking about...

do you think zorian's mother knows about their bloodline? (also her name is cikan. i had to look it up, so saying it here incase anyone else needed reminding)

we know that cikan really hated being associated with zorian's grandmother, but she was still immersed in witch culture at least somewhat in her home life. we don't really know how old she was when she first started to reject those practices, so it's hard to judge how much she would have learned before she went out of her way to avoid it, and we also just don't have enough context about the witches' traditions for raising their kids to make guesses about her knowlege level.

we do see later on in the series (what comes to mind is the confrontation in koth) that cikan doesn't have much knowlege about magic as zorian knows it (eg. what you can expect from certain spells used for travel), but given that the witches are an separate spellcasting tradition from the ikosians that doesn't necessarily tell us loads about what she might have picked up from her mother.

also, knowing you have a bloodline is pretty important information to have, so even with the antagonism you'd think zorian's grandmother would've at least made sure cikan knew about that... if SHE knew, anyway, cause that's also not something we can really take for granted is it? there are a few ways i can picture it being

option 1. most of what we see in the series is not typical from an empathy bloodline. archmage zorian is an outlier and should not be counted. and even daimen, the more "normal" natural mind mage is still a whole magical prodigy, which isn't exactly baseline for most people with empathy either. so yeah... zorian's grandmother may not have known that she had a empathy in her family in the first place.

option 2. we do hear (i don't remember when or who from. maybe one of the teachers? was it ilsa? idk) that empathy is a pretty common form of natural magical ability, and it's kind of a mild plot twist that it's a bloodline thing if i remember correctly. so even if zorian's grandmother knew about an empath in her family history she might not have known that meant it could pass down.

option 3. part of the reason in world that empathy isn't usually thought of as a bloodline thing (again, if i'm remembering right) is because it's so comparatively common, so it's entirely possible that empathy bloodlines (and possibly to a lesser extent bloodlines in general) are just quite common for witches to the extent that it's not really something that needs to be said explicitly, or at least wouldn't have been if cikan hadn't done so much to assimilate with the dominant culture and distance herself from witch tradition and knowlege

BUT, those options are thinking about the reasons cikan might NOT know about their bloodline... so again, does she know? even if she doesn't think of it as a bloodline she might be aware that her family has a history of empathy. so now for some thoughts on what the situation might be if she IS aware of the family history.

(note. i'm pretty damn sure cikan herself isn't an empath. zorian would be able to tell if she was "open", and she just doesn't have that understanding of how other people feel. but if you think otherwise, or just want to think about a "what if", i'd love to hear about it ^-^)

(oh and same goes for kiri and fortov)

cikan might know that there's a family history, but not really know what that means in practise. as i mentioned earlier she doesn't seem very knowlegable on magic, so she might not have any clue about the signs and how it typically presents.

she also might be in denial about the possibility that her kids inherited something like that from her, given what we've seen of how she thinks about her heritage. or she might have focused any concern about the possibility onto kirielle, who seems to be where much of her trauma goes, and not considered that the boys might get it. especially considering the witches' beliefs about sex and magical lineage.

but she also might know or suspect that zorian and/or daimen is an empath. which if nothing else is certainly the option with the most potential drama.

personally, i doubt she knows that daimen is an empath. he put a lot of work into hiding it, and i feel like it would probably affect how he sees him. given how much baggage she has about her witch heritage i just can't see that knowlege not somewhat tainting her golden boy, you know? like i know she's fine with him being a mage and really proud of his prodigy status, but i just can't envision her seeing empathy the same way, and i think it would come through in a slightly colder attitude to daimen. especially given the cultural stigma against mind magic when she's worked so hard to become socially acceptable.

but i'm just not sure whether she knows about zorian or not! on the one hand i could totally see her just being oblivious, in denial, not having the right context, whatever, but I can also kind of see the way she treats him (specifically in relation to him socialising and stuff), through the lense of knowing he's an empath.

like he straight up told her as a child that crowds caused him physical pain. he had tp stop going to church because it made him actually pass out! that is some pretty intense stuff to just ignore... we're never told that he saw a doctor or anything about this via his parents (as far as i remember, please let me know if i'm missimg something!) so did she have some idea about what was going on or was it just plain neglect?

and if she did have some understanding of the situation, how did that affect her behaviour? did she think if she ignored it he'd just adjust and never find out? did she just not want it to be associated with her family history if/when he did find out? did she think that if she forced him into triggering situations he'd eventually realise? or that he'd learn to control it subconciously? or did it just not matter how he felt as long as he was still functional when it came to his political use? did she hide it more out of personal shame, or a legitimate conviction that she was protecting him like with kiri?

like i said, i'm not sure what my headcannon is, but the topic fascinates me. as you can probably tell from how long and rambly this got. sorry ^_^'

but yeah, i'd love to hear what other people think!

#mother of learning #mol #zorian kazinski #cikan kazinski #family dynamics

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wxllyclxrk · 3 months ago

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Love Me Wrong (6) Wally Clark x OC

Summary: Ellie struggles with her family dynamic.

Warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death/suicide of a loved one, emotional abuse, mentions of sex, sexual assault, drugs, canon divergence, eventually maybe smut?

Word Count: 1009

Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any character, setting or plot designed by the creators of School Spirits.

Author's Note: All chapters are named after songs!

MASTERLIST

Ellie stood at the kitchen sink, her hands submerged in soapy water as she scrubbed a plate with more force than necessary. Bubbles clung stubbornly to her fingers, sliding down the ceramic like they had nowhere better to be. She wished she could say the same.

The sharp tick-tick-tick of the kitchen clock gnawed at her nerves, each passing second dragging her closer to the inevitable- Aunt Connie's arrival.

Ellie's jaw tensed at the thought. Connie, with her stiff pearls and even stiffer opinions, had a way of turning every visit into a masterclass in passive aggression. Ellie could already hear her nasally voice cutting through the house: "A proper young lady doesn't slouch, dear. And must you always look so... tired? It's unbecoming."

A car door slammed outside.

Ellie winced. Right on cue.

She stole a glance toward the living room where her mother sat, motionless on the stiff leather couch, the television flickering muted images in front of her. Sharon didn't even turn her head. Her hands were folded in her lap, a hollow-eyed stillness about her that Ellie had stopped trying to shake months ago.

"Mom," Ellie tried, her voice tight, "can you, I don't know... maybe say something if she starts in on me again?"

Sharon blinked slowly, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the arm of the couch. "She's family, Ellie. Just... be polite."

Ellie bit back the hot retort burning her throat. Of course. Be polite. Smile and take it. Like always.

Before she could reply, the doorbell chimed- a shrill, drawn-out note that echoed through the hollow spaces of the house. Ellie dried her hands on a dish towel, her shoulders already curling inward as if bracing for a blow. "Here we go," she muttered.

She swung open the door.

There stood Aunt Connie, all roundness and sharp edges- pale pink lipstick too bright against her powdered skin, her curls carefully set beneath a wide-brimmed hat that screamed old money. Her eyes swept over Ellie in a single, critical scan.

"Good heavens, Emmeline," Connie sniffed, her lips pursing. "Still no effort in your appearance, I see. It's so important for young ladies to take pride in themselves."

Ellie's grip tightened on the dish towel. "Hi, Aunt Connie. Nice to see you too."

Connie breezed past her without another word, her heavy perfume trailing behind her like a warning sign. Ellie stood frozen in the doorway for a beat, the weight of the house- its silence, its judgment- settling over her like a heavy coat.

She shut the door and followed Connie inside, already counting the minutes until she could leave the room. Connie settled herself into the armchair like she owned the place, smoothing down her skirt with plump manicured fingers.

Ellie barely had time to sit on the edge of the couch when the front door creaked again.

Malcolm.

Italian leather shoes click-clacked against the entryway floor as he appeared in the doorway. Tall, broad, and imposing. Malcolm filled the room with his presence without trying. His weathered face twisted into a smirk as his eyes flicked between Ellie and Connie.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite sister," he drawled, peeling off his suit jacket and folding it ever so carefully before setting it down on the entryway table.

Connie let out a laugh- high pitched and fake. "Oh, Malcolm, you always say that."

Malcolm snorted, but his gaze slid to Ellie, sharp now, appraising. "You won't believe what this one's been up to."

Ellie's stomach dropped, She didn't even have time to open her mouth before Connie perked up like a hound on the scent of scandal.

"Oh? Do tell," Connie urged, smoothing her skirt as if preparing for a juicy bit of gossip.

"Little Ellie here's been spending her time with some football kid. Nathan."

Ellie's heart thumped painfully in her chest. She didn't say anything, didn't deny it- but the heat of their stares burned into her skin.

Connie gasped in that dramatic, performative way of hers. "Football? Emmeline, really? That's the kind of boy you're wasting your time with?"

Ellie shifted her weight, uneasy. "We've only been on a couple dates."

Connie tutted, leaning forward with her hands clasped over her pearls. "You should be careful, dear. Boys like that- those cocky, rough-around-the-edges types. They're not the kind of young men you build a future with."

Ellie hesitated. She wasn't even sure how she felt about Nathan yet. He was... complicated. And something about him rubbed her the wrong way, even if she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"I don't even know how I feel about him yet," Ellie admitted, voice low.

But Malcolm wasn't about to let it slide. "You don't have to know. I know his type. Hot headed, thinks he's invincible. And you? You're the perfect target. Sweet little Ellie who doesn't know any better."

"I'm not that naive," Ellie snapped, though there wasn't much fight behind it.

"Could've fooled me," Malcolm shot back, his voice thick with mockery.

Connie's disapproving clucks filled the room. "It's so sad, really. Your father raised you with more sense than this. And now? Running around with football boys like some desperate cheerleader."

Ellie winced like she'd been slapped. That word- father- was always the low blow. Malcolm knew it. Connie knew it.

And Sharon? She didn't even flinch.

"And I know girls who lose themselves over the wrong boys," Connie added sweetly, though the judgment in her voice cut like a knife. "They end up stuck in dead end towns with nothing to show for it."

Ellie's chest burned, but not with anger- more like shame. Not because they were right, but because a part of her wondered if she was being stupid. She didn't wait for Malcolm's next jab or Connie's smug sigh. She turned, the dish towel slipping from her hand, and ascended up the stairs. The murmurs of their voices followed her, low and victorious, as if they'd somehow won.

Ellie slammed her bedroom door and sank onto the bed, her thoughts tangled and messy. And the worst part? She wasn't sure if she was mad at them for judging her- or mad because they might be right.

#schoolspirits #fanfiction #television #wally clark x oc #wally clark x reader #fanfic #split river high school #wally clark fluff #wallyclark #milo manheim

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pbaz7 · 4 months ago

Note

Hi pretty girl, here I am again with the live reaction of part 2!! And ugh this was so amazing I need another part or turn it into a series cuz omgggg this is my favorite. I truly feel like this was the best one yet. I loveeeee itttt. Anyways how was your day?! How are you? I missed you so much and I can’t wait for what’s nextttt!!!! 💋💋

Paige was with him.

Azzi paused mid-shot, the ball bouncing off the rim as her brows pulled together. Across the court, Geno and Paige spoke casually, their body language familiar. They weren't just exchanging pleasantries-this was a conversation that carried a purpose.

Well if this isn’t a plot twist…. Idk what is because PAIGE WITH GENO?!! Huh 😃😃

"Why is Paige Bueckers here?" KK asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Azzi turned her head slightly. "You know her?"

How the hell does kk know her?! PAIGE WHO ARE YOU GIRL!!

She shook her head before continuing. "Paige was one of the top players in the country in high school. From Minnesota. She could've gone anywhere she wanted. UConn wanted her bad —but then she kinda just... disappeared. Didn't commit anywhere on signing day."

WHATTT? Say no more!!! Sign with UConn 😇

"Right," KK echoed, before smirking. "Maybe she's your competition."

Nahhh maybe in the bedroom they will have competitions… but not basketball positions… Isn’t Paige a point guard? Kk….. babe that’s your competition ☺️😊

KK turned to her, eyebrows raising high at the comment. "What are you talking about?"

Azzi finally glanced at her. "She's a point guard."

ooooo clock it Azzi 😌

The confusion hung in the air until Geno cut straight through it. "Paige is here unofficially on a visit, he announced, his tone gruff, leaving little room for argument.

Yayyyyyyy backcourt duoooo incomingggg✅

The silence stretched before Nika finally spoke up, respectful but with a tinge of frustration. "Coach, we already have a point guard for next season."

OOOOO who’s this DIVA 🧐

The tension in the gym thickened slightly as Nika's words settled. Some of their glances jumping between Nika and KK. Paige stayed composed, her expression not changing much, but Azzi noticed the way her fingers twitched slightly in her pockets

Here she goes…. Ms nonchalant 😍

Behind them, Nika scoffed under her breath. "We don't even know if she's as good as she used to be," she muttered, just loud enough for those nearby to hear.

OOOOO THAT SOUNDED REALLY BRATTY 💅🏾

Azzi's head snapped in her direction, her eyes sharp as she simply said, "Nika."

Yea cuz Azzi don’t play about her fine shyt 🙂

Azzi wasn't sure why, but she felt the need to say something. Instead, she just pressed her lips together and turned back toward the court.

SAY IT AZZI 😔

Geno didn't waste time. "I need you to make her feel comfortable on this visit."

Oh trust mr geno… Paige is in very good hands 😉😉😉😉😉😉 I’ll tell you that 😝😝

"And Lord knows," Geno added with a gruff sigh, "if one of those other schools gets her, it's gonna be hell come March for us next season."

YES UNIVERSE BRING THESE TWO SKITTLED RAINBOWS TOGETHER 👏🌈

"Paige Bueckers, huh?" Azzi said, settling into the seat next to her.

Paige's smirk grew. "So you know my last name now."

Omgggg the flirtinggggg 🙂‍↔️

Azzi exhaled through her nose before standing, shooting Paige one last smile. "I'll find you after the game."

Paige met her gaze. "Don't lose."

Ofc Azzi tryna find Paige after the game…. Typical gay people 😩

"So?" she asked, arms casually crossed as she leaned against one of the chairs. Paige glanced up at her, offering a playful chuckle. "You were good." Azzi raised an eyebrow, clearly looking for more than just a simple acknowledgment. "Good?"

OH PLEASE SHE WAS GREAT PAIGE MOVE AROUND 👏

Azzi squinted playfully, not fully trusting the plan but deciding to go along with it. "Fine, but give me your number so l can text you when we're heading out."

Ladies and gentlemen…. That’s the perfect example of unlimited rizz. Round of applause for Azzi fudd 👏😩

"Look, if you're going to sleep with her, just do it before we officially maybe become teammates with the girl."

Wait what is it finna play?!! WHOAAAAA CUZ CLOCK IT 🤣🤣

Azzi leaned against the bar, the dim lighting of the room casting soft shadows over her face as she watched Paige closely. There was something different about her tonight-something that Azzi couldn't quite put her finger on.

Azzi ik what you are 😊 💙💚🧡💛💜❤️

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to.

But what happened during your senior year? You kind of.."fell off the face of the earth" in KK's words." Her tone wasn't judgmental, just curious, like she was trying to understand a part of Paige that remained untold.

I love Azzi trying to understand and read Paige to the best of her ability, they are so cuteeee. But fr Paige what happened 🥲

Paige chuckled lightly, her eyes shifting away as if she were weighing the decision to answer. For a moment, she studied Azzi, considering whether or not to open up. Then, with a quiet breath, she simply replied, "Car accident."

Omg that’s so heartbreaking, aweeee Paige my babyyyyy

Azzi's eyes softened immediately. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, her voice laced with genuine concern.

My reaction literally…

"So, is this what you're like on a night out?" Azzi asked, leaning against the bar with a grin. "Quiet, mysterious... just sitting there looking pretty in your own head?"

Azzi fudd the casual compliments are melting meeeeee 😆

Paige huffed a small laugh, shaking her head as she set her drink down. "Maybe," she said, glancing at Azzi. "But I think you just called me pretty."

Ofc Paige caught onto that!!!

Paige hesitated, her eyes flickering between them before shaking her head. "No, it's cool, I don't wanna—" "I don't mind," Azzi finally cut in, her voice coming out a little too smooth, a little too sure. She adjusted the keys in her hand, turning toward Paige now.

Yea…. We all know what’s gonna happennnn, Paige invite her innnnnnn 🙃

The silence returned, heavier this time, until Paige exhaled quietly. She glanced over at Azzi, studying her for a moment before finally speaking again. "You wanna come upstairs?"

AHA I KNEW IT…. Azzi don’t bs do ittttttt 😛

Azzi's first instinct was to hesitate, to say it probably isn't a good idea, but Caroline's voice echoed in her head—do it before she's your teammate-and before she could second-guess herself, she found herself nodding. "I do."

PERIODDDTTTT Azzi finally letting herself liveeeeeee!!!!

Before she could think twice about it, she blurted out, "What kind of perfume do you use?"

I would’ve asked “what are we?” after that but that’s just me 😂😂

As Azzi fully stepped inside, she immediately took note of how clean the room was. Sure, the hotel staff had probably stopped by, but there was something about the way Paige's things were neatly folded, her shoes lined up on the wall, her duffel bag zipped up in the corner, that made it clear she kept it that way herself. It didn't smell like a hotel room either-it smelled like her. That same mix of jasmine and vanilla that had been lingering in Azzi's head all night.

Oh Azzi you are falling!!!! You are so observant and precise with Paige. Its sooo cuteeeee😊😊

"So..." she started, tilting her head slightly. "Why'd you invite me up?"

Cuz she’s tryna hit it from the bac- JUST KIDDING. She wants to have a tea party Azzi duhhhh 🙃

Paige gave her a pointed look. "Did you want to come up?" Azzi let the question hang in the air for a second, her smirk fading into something softer-something just as teasing but a little more honest. "I think you already know the answer to that Paige."

Omg just crawl into each others skin already. ENOUGH WITH THE HOMOSEXUAL ACTS🥲

Azzi hesitated for only a second before asking, "How many people have you slept with?"Paige didn't flinch, didn't seem caught off guard. Instead, she answered smoothly, "Six."

Wait guys… what happened to hello how are you?!! 😂😂 tryna jump in them drawlz already?!’

Then Paige moved. She pushed off the desk, stepping toward Azzi with an almost lazy confidence, the gap between them shrinking.

Azzi could feel the shift immediately.

Paige stopped just in front of her, close enough that Azzi caught that familiar mix of jasmine and vanilla. She tilted her head slightly, her voice low, smooth.

"Why do you ask?"

Azzi let out a soft breath, lips twitching. "Just curious."

Paige hummed, her gaze locked on Azzi. "You always this curious?"

This whole thing right here. PURE GOLD. Best thing ever. The sexual tension is ridiculous!!! Ughhhhhhh you ate so baddddd 🙂‍↔️

Azzi tucked that knowledge away as Paige unknowingly let that slip. "We're not teammates yet," she countered, voice lower now. "And it's just one night."

Paige chuckled, the sound quiet, knowing. "It'll be more than just one night."

Are you sure Azzi?!!! I think imma have agree with Paige on this. It’s gonna be too good 😆

Paige leaned in just enough that Azzi could feel the warmth of her breath. "You seem too interested for it to be just one night." A pause, then a smirk. "And I think everything in life happens for a reason."

Ooooo clock it Paige 😙😙

Paige's grip on Azzi's waist tightened, a subtle squeeze that sent a thrill down Azzi's spine. In response, Azzi deepened the kiss, tilting her head slightly, allowing their lips to move in perfect sync. They breathed through their noses, neither of them willing to pull away just yet, as if letting go would break whatever spell had settled between them.

HOMOSEXUALS!!! Ugh they are so cuteeeee it’s ridiculous 🥰🥰

Azzi nodded, lifting her arms slightly to help Paige pull her shirt over her head. As the fabric was tossed aside, Paige's eyes roamed over Azzi's exposed torso and chest, a slow, almost dazed smile spreading across her lips. She shook her head slightly, a quiet chuckle escaping her.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Paige just licked her lips, her gaze dragging up to meet Azzi's as she murmured, "You look good."

Before Azzi could respond, Paige leaned down, pressing soft, lingering kisses against her stomach.

Again this whole scene…. Yea I fell to my knees, ughhhh yes Paige you are a lucky woman 😍😍

She lifted her head slightly, her gaze locking onto Azzi's. "This okay?"

Azzi, already breathless, nodded immediately. “Yeah."

Paige didn't move, just studied her for a second longer, her fingers still tracing slow, aimless patterns along Azzi's thighs. "You'd tell me if it wasn't, right?"

Azzi exhaled. "Of course."

Awwwwww this is sooo cuteeeee, okay fine just get married already 🙄

Azzi's fingers curled tighter in Paige's hair, her breath hitching as she let out a quiet, unsteady sigh. "You feel so good," she murmured, her voice coming out softer, more breathless than she intended.

WHOAAAAA ….. Savannah slow down!

Paige still didn't say anything, but the way she moved, the way she responded to every little sound Azzi made, was more than enough of an answer. Azzi bit her lip, trying to steady herself, but Paige was making it impossible. "You're-" Azzi's breath hitched again, her voice catching. "You're too good at this.

Ik Paige thinking she the shit rn 😂😂

Paige hummed, satisfied. "Yeah?" she mused, tilting her head. "You usually have a lot to say. What happened?"

Ho-🕴️see these cookie eaters getting way too cocky. PAIGE NTM

Azzi let out a quiet, breathy laugh, though it quickly turned into another sigh as Paige traced her tongue along her skin again. "You feel good," she admitted, her voice nearly a whisper.

Paige smirked. "Yeah?"

“Yeah?” AHAHDHDIDHAUSGDIDNSAUSFS PAIGE STOP IT RIGHT NAUWWWWW

"Can you feel how much I want you?" She drew her words out, the vibrations of her voice making Azzi's pulse race in time with her breaths.

I think she can feel more than that Paige 🤓👆

Azzi, realizing what she'd done, let out a breathless apology. "I'm sorry."

Paige didn't say anything immediately. She simply shook her head, the slight smile on her lips reassuring and seemingly tender. "It's fine, pretty." Her voice was soothing, like a calm after the storm, and it melted any hesitation Azzi had.

Oh Azzi girl… you made it. Atp yall need to get married. Touching her scar during sex and her just saying it’s okay after the trauma?! Ooo that’s your wifeyyy 😍😍

Azzi's grip tightened around Paige, her nails curling into Paige's skin, pulling her even closer. "Can you kiss me?" Azzi asked breathlessly, her voice nearly a plea. Without hesitation, Paige leaned down, her lips capturing Azzi's in a passionate kiss.

That is so intimate oh my….

Paige smiled a little, her voice. "Don't worry about it. You can get me next time," she said, her eyes filled with the playful confidence that Azzi had come to expect from her.

Yeaaaaa I need a part 3 immediately!!! YOU CAN GET ME NEXT TIME?!!! she knows there is a next timeeeeee!!!

Paige got up and walked to the bathroom, the soft click of the door closing behind her was the only sound in the room. She stood in front of the sink, running the water to wash her hands. Her eyes caught the faint scar near her hairline in the mirror, a reminder of a past she usually kept tucked away. The scar wasn't large, but it was there and she noticed it every time she looked at herself.

I really hope Azzi can help her with her past. I wanna see this pleaseeee in part 3!! I wanna hear more about it and how Azzi makes her feel comfortable enough to talk about it 🫠

Paige settled into the bed, pulling the covers up over both of them, her body still warm from their earlier closeness. She could sense Azzi hesitating, her body almost stalling before she moved toward her. Paige chuckled softly, the sound slightly affectionate as she spoke. "We just had sex, Azzi. I can hold you."

Awwww I love aftercare. They are sooo cuteeeee 🤭

OKAYYYY this is the live reaction!!! Lmk what you thinkkkk. Ikkkk its lateeeeee but i wanted to get it done even though i was busy today. I’m so proud of you and this storyyyy it’s so good and I really hope there is more to come!!! I love you sweet girl. And you will hear from me when you drop more 💋💋

-❄️

00000 who's this DIVA

idk all i thought about is she ain’t no diva 😭

00000 THAT SOUNDED REALLY BRATTY

this sent me lol

Yea cuz Azzi don't play about her fine shyt

oh?!?! didn’t know she was her fine shit already

I would've asked "what are we?" after that but that's just me

this is insane

This whole thing right here. PURE GOLD. Best thing ever. The sexual tension is ridiculous!!! Ughhhhhhh you ate so baddddd

yeahh i lowkey did

Awwwwww this is sooo cuteeeee, okay fine just get married already

mind you they just met 😭😭

i’m so glad you like it stink 🤭 i lowkey love writing this one

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revisitingfandoms · 1 year ago

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Idea Prompt 11- What lengths would a father not go for his child?

Soulmates.

An acursed word. An acursed happening and the damnation of yourself.

Soulmates.

A persons everything. They are forever crossed between souls and doomed to forever long for the other. To forever want and wish and dream-

Soulmates.

You cannot live without your soulmate, regardless of reason. To deny your soulmate is to deny yourself. To deny yourself is to die a slow and painful death.

Soulmates.

That words ponders in his head. He knew from the moment he held him, from the moment his boy was put into his arms.

Soulmates, your other half in everything, aren't romantic. Many can precive it that way, but in pratice, soulmates can be anyone.

(Your worst enemy, you family, your rival, a stranger on street who you just met, someone you will never meet, they will always be the person who can see through you- see and know everything about you, regardless of if you try to hide it.)

(There isn't any outright physical tell of who your soulmate was, no markings or outright explantions. You just know from one moment of touch.)

("This one is mine.")

(And only after that would that tiny marking appear, after beholding that realization. A marking that always appeared on top of a cookies heart.)

He knew from the moment Dark Choco cookie was placed into his arms that his son was his soulmate.

(Only one of his comrades has ever met their soulmate and that was hollyberry. The dragon curled upon her spoke it all.)

(The other three had yet to meet theirs.)

(It becomes aparent that his attempts to keep his son at distant lengths to protect him- keep people from making the connection that they were soulmates only drew to push his son away.)

(It made his boy desperate and with that dear desperation. Dark Cacao lost his son- his boy.)

(And silently it crushed him.)

(Until the years circled around- until his son, his Dark Choco came back- different, twisted and steaming with hurt and he cursed himself over and over again.)

(He had damned his boy.)

(And more then once those thoughts crept in.)

(Why didn't he stop dark Choco? Why didn't he keep his locked up in the citidal and safe and warm and protected like he should have done? Why did he care about what those under him thought? If Dark choco was their son- their soulmate, they would have done the same!)

(...His son stopped himself, he fought against that acursed sword for him- for his father.)

(He wouldn't let his son be taken- leave him again.)

He sighs as he stares out into the cold wasteland outside of the citidals borders. The First Watcher Caramel Arrow walks over to him, "My king, the prince is.." He can feel the confliction, the hestiance but she steels herself like any warrior of his kingdom.

Afterall, he had made that half maddened accounment shortly after Dark Choco had been brought in.

("He is my son! He is my Kindred one! If any one of you had to make that choice because of their citizens they would have just quieted the masses to keep them by their side!")

"...He is still adjusting my leige. The doctors speak of... of the things he suffered under the other cookies of darkness, notably Pomegranate Cookie."

He narrows his eyes, "And the search for them?" Caramel Arrow bows her head further, "We have yet to locate her, but we have found something known as the oven thats under their use. However it wouldbe several months long to reach there and the firepower needed would leave the kingdom extremly vulernable."

He grunts, not an option. He refuses to leave his son alone, (He was already left alone for far too long.). "The bait?" The first watcher shakes her head, "The young cookie we captured was named Poison Mushroom has yet to draw out the others. Yet we find signs that they may be plotting to get him back."

Dark Cacao nods in turn, "Keep your guard up First Watcher, You are dismissed." Caramel arrow nods her head as she leaves.

For his his son, he would do anything to keep him close.

For him, the world.

#dark choco cookie #cookie run kingdom #cookie run au #dark cacao cookie #poison mushroom crk #caramel arrow cookie #Soulmate au but different #idea prompt #If you must know #Shadow milk and pure vanilla are soulmates #Hollyberry and Pitaya are aswell #White lily and Elder faerie #and Finally Golden Cheese and her newly aquired son-boy Gringerbrave #: D #Dark choco cookie got knabbed by a slowly loosing his marbles dark cacao cookie

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maxwell-grant · 1 year ago

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Thoughts on Lupin: Part 3

Covered my thoughts on seasons 1 and 2 already and I just finished season 3 so I'm gonna write about it here. Bottom line: HahahahaHA this show rules so much man.

Everything that was strong about the prior seasons is still there if not better, and they patched up several things I otherwise disliked about it. Also god I missed the mark big time by watching the prior seasons with the English dub for some reason, no wonder I didn't like most of the characters when they all sounded like they were sleepwalking. Just, watch with the French audio, don't be an idiot like me.

I actually like Assane's family now? Maybe that's because of the dub thing letting me see the actual performances, but there seemed to be a lot more effort this season to make us care about Claire and Raoul's own struggles and the really bad things they have to deal with because of Assane and how they deal with them. There's an extent to which these characters exist because otherwise Assane would suffer no consequences and no caveats to just doing whatever he wants, a.k.a the cool Lupin stuff we signed up for but can't be too over-indulged in, and that made them feel more like roadblocks than people, but to me this time they actually feel more like people, and people who can have their own things going on or even get involved in the good stuff without compromising their importance, and those consequences thus actually matter more.

God I can't believe how great the disguises were this season and how many there were. Again, definitely feels like they had to refine the process in the first two seasons so we can have this one with Assane actually going the nine yards with multiple overlapping fake personas and disguises per episode. Omar is masterful in all of them and the show seems so confident that it even lets Ben, Guedira and Claire dip their toes in the action a bit. I was actually really impressed by Coach Alex, even though he does look a bit uncanny and a little A.I-ish. I could still buy that as a real person.

It's doing this thing I really like that The Shadow does, where the character has a lot of different methods by which he achieves his disguises ranging from high-tech/borderline fantasy to very simple DIY tools, but the process featured is obscured enough that you can never fully tell which is being used, and so the character can have this borderline superpower still grounded enough to not look like one.

I actually didn't mind the villain this time around. There's a nice progression of putting Assane against an invisible and seemingly invincible shadowy gang forcing him to do their bidding (which lets them do the heist-of-the-week format without compromising the larger plot), that turns out to be just one horrible man from his past armed with henchmen and a grudge, which means he gets to be developed and taken out within the season without much delay and without Assane having to make stupid out-of-character blunders to let him escape to menace another day (which was a problem I had with Pelligrini). I like that Keller gets to be legitimately scary as a threat to Assane's loved ones, but is also undone by being a stupid piece of shit who only knows how to abuse and manipulate children until they all turn on him, and once he and Assane are on even ground he goes out like a chump.

Putting Pellegrini completely out of sight and saving him for the final twist where he's been pulling a Kingpin in prison with god knows what consequences even warmed me up to him as a villain, if nothing else because, okay, a Lupin worth his name needs a Cagliostro menace, and the ending twist isn't even about him so much as it's about the betrayal of someone Assane confided in.

And unfortunately that ending twist is good enough that it would be awful if any of those three turned out to be the backstabbers and there's equal arguments for being any of them (I don't think it's going to be Pellegrini's daughter precisely because she's the most predictable, I don't think they'd do the Countess of Cagliostro that 1-to-1)

(Art is from the cover of Lupin: Échec à la reine, which is a prequel novel focused on Benjamin. I don't think it's been translated to English but it got published in Brazil.)

Look, it's good drama, yes, we need stakes to keep this going, yes, but BEN NOOOOO, GODDAMNIT ASSANE

Unfortunately I can't fault Assane that much despite the fact that he barely knew his mom. There was no good option there, Ben would have fumbled it if he was even a little on the plan, and I'm not sure if he later realized why Assane did it or if he didn't realize at all, I mean the ending twist sets him up as one of the potential backstabbers and it's gonna be really fucking heartbreaking if so, but...man, I don't fault the way everyone reacted to that episode, but I can't get that mad at Assane for what he did.

The heist he did with his mom at the prime minister's mansion complete with jetski escape added another 10 years to our lifespan. Utterly delightful. I love this show so much.

I was a bit iffy on how the prior seasons approached the existence of Arsene Lupin books in-text and I'm still a little mixed on it. However, the sheer reverence and omnipresent popularity of Arsene Lupin the character actually isn't even that unrealistic to the character's real life popularity in France or elsewhere, or how much the show has done to refuel said popularity. I mean, hell, I and others got to see it firsthand Lupin being the talk of the town non-stop. It still takes me a little out of the show, but it's far from a dealbreaker.

Major major leg that this thing has above so many other contemporary reboots/adaptations is that this is FUN, Lupin in general should always get to be fun and more than a little stupid sometimes, and this gets it. This thing delights in carrying us through every step of the process by which the main character does his impressive things, laying out all the components in plain sight and putting them together and even letting you feel smart for realizing how it's coming together and still being surprised when it does.

This is the show that Sherlock wishes it was, because of course Lupin can't make a comeback without putting one over his good old rival Sholmes.

The show was always strong, I think, but every season so far's just been refining things and making all of it's strengths better. It's so so good and I hope it keeps going, this thing does crazy numbers every season, I just never see it talked about much in English circles. I'm glad it's been going strong the way it has. Assane has become one of my favorite protagonists in anything and I might even watch the show again soon.

Still unbelievably good and has only gotten better from what was already a very strong start.

#lupin #lupin netflix #assane diop #benjamin farel #lupin part 3 #arsene lupin #pulp heroes #tv shows

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