#she loves me so much. she loves me SO much. she was so sad every night I had to go to work last week.
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This hit way too hard. I came out to my mom late last year for similar fears. My parents aren't bad people, per say, and they love all of their kids - myself tentatively still included - very much. But it has always felt like there were strings attached. I told her that I'd been with my partner now for over a year and we plan to get married eventually. She said that while she and my dad would not shun me from the family, they would not be celebrating my relationship. Most of my family are very religious so I was amazed that I wasn't cut off on the spot because my parents had shunned my older sisters (who have since been welcomed back into family functions) for years on end for far less. I was proud of them for that and it showed growth and while I wasn't expecting them to be elated and jumping off the walls in excitement for me, I am sad that they will never be happy for me and that I've found someone I love, loves me in return, and that I want to spend the rest of my life with.
We spent our last Christmas with our respective families before moving out of state and neither my partner nor I were able to spend it together at each other's famiy homes because they are both incredibly pious and have forbidden the other from being at their house. So we are allowed to still be with our families on the condition that our partner is not with us. This just drove home even more the "loved with strings attached" aspect of family who isn't awful, but definitely not great.
"It's just so sad." This something my mom has always said about people who are LGBTQ+. Especially about my uncle, who has been married to his husband for three decades at this point, but I didn't find out by that he was gay until I was fifteen. He'd been a part of my life with his "roommate" who'd occasionally come to Christmas or other holidays. It just wasn't talked about because of the homophobia and essentially the homoerasur from my parents and their parents.
Whenever she would say things like that, I'd always think, "No, what's sad is that you think it's sad for people to love someone of the same sex. Or to realize that they identify as someone that they weren't originally assigned at birth. It is sad that you can't accept or respect people who have different beliefs than you and don't adhere to the rigid system you do, and you reject them on principal."
My only hope is that after my partner and I are married, my parents at least will allow me to bring my wife to family gatherings. Because I have every right to do that just as much as a heterosexual family member would.
To come back to what OP said, most parents of queer people usually aren't just straight forward good or bad, kind or abusive. It's very often some confusing and emotionally trying combination of "We still love you, but with conditions" and because of that you never know where the line is or what is safe to mention or talk about before they go off on you about "life choices".
Overall, having parents or family members who are passive aggressively "accepting" of your being queer is likely more far common than media shows and that aspect, as much as it sucks and is complicated, is still worth sharing.
I feel like we always see parents who are 100% super supportive allies, or parents who are horrible and cruel. At least in media or in the most popular stories. But I feel like that ignores just how many people have parents where you just have no idea? And even if you think they’ll accept you on a surface level, you don’t know if they have a breaking point. Especially if you need to go on hrt, or request they change the way they think about and refer to you. Sure they’re liberal and all, or centrists, or “tolerant”, but how far does that stretch?
I think most closeted LGBT+ kids live like this, wading around in the grey area. I’d like it of more of us knew that was normal, I’d like if we talked about it more.
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lake house bunny (jack hughes x bsf!reader)
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summary: kinda love triangle (quinn hughes), bsfs to lovers, smut with plot, quinn's new gf tries to get under your skin by pushing you and jack tg, pining (from jack), reader uses the nickname 'bunny', trevor and cole are heavily incorporated in the plot (bc who doesn't love them) warnings!! NSFW, heated makeout, fingering, cursing, drinking, angst, use of the word 'slut', quinn being an asshole a/n: first time writing NSFW ahh! (pls don't judge if u think its bad. I tried.) this has been sitting in my drafts forever. this kinda fits in with the lake house gc (if you like this you should def read those in my master list) BUT it's not canon in the series. I tried my hardest to not make reader seem like a pick me girl but I fear she kind of is. let me preface by saying, I DO NOT CONDONE SLUT SHAMING!! just bc ur jealous doesn't mean you have a right to talk shit on the new girl. also, I can't stand people who hate on other people for 'being too nice' but reader DEFINITELY has her reasons to be suspicious. anyways, happy reading :) -mars wc: 9.6k
18+ content // minors dni
“This is disgusting.” you sat on the boat, arms crossed next to Jack as you glared over at Quinn and his new girlfriend, Adelaide. He was driving the boat with her perched in his lap. Her hands wrapped around him, while he had one on the wheel with the other on her thigh. Your blood boiled at the sight. All you could think of was how much you longed to be the one wrapped around him like you used to.
“Yeah, she’s a slut.” Jack whispered into your ear, eliciting a soft laugh from you. You and Jack had always shared a close bond, one that felt especially strong in the lake house. He was your rock, the one person you could always rely on. Jack knew since you were kids how much you liked Quinn, and he couldn’t help gaining a jealous eye when he saw the two of you together. You never knew how much he actually cared about you, as you were too wrapped up in trying to get Quinn to even just look at you. Since you were teenagers, it’s felt like a game. Quinn would give you the smallest amount of attention and flirtation, then he would ignore you. The cycle repeated throughout every summer at the lake house. You let your arms fall to your side, glancing over to Luke trying to surf the wakeboard as Trevor and Cole cheered him on. You turned your attention to your feet, trying not to look at the eye sore that sat at the wheel.
You sighed, glancing over to Jack who had moved his sunglasses to the top of his head. “You know the worst part is, she’s not a slut. She’s really nice and funny. I actually like her, and I want to hate her so bad.” Jack gave you an empathetic smile, and you couldn’t help but gaze back at the couple. You rested your elbows on your knees, letting your face fall into your hands as you stared. Jack hated seeing you in this state, and he hated his brother more for making you feel like this. He didn’t actually hate his brother, but he couldn’t help but let his anger take over when Quinn was messing with you like this. Jack sighed, looking over to his brother who was laughing with Adelaide, probably about something that wasn’t nearly as funny as the things you said. He looked back to you who had sad eyes as you watched the scene in front of you.
Jack huffed his breath, causing you to turn your attention towards him. “Are you okay?” you asked softly, noticing the tension in his jaw as he turned to you, worry evident in his eyes.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” he replied, but you could tell he was anything but. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” Jack decided to do exactly what Jack Hughes was expected to do in the moment of his best friend’s misery. In a sudden burst of determination, he leaned over and pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you in one swift motion.
“Jack, what are you doing?” You said with a soft smile, your body instinctively relaxing against him.
“Lifting your spirits.” He smiled, placing one hand on your back and the other on your thigh to pull you in closer. You moved one of your arms around his neck, your free hand landing on his bicep, grazing his bare skin with your thumb. The simple touch sent shivers through his body as he tried to keep himself content. You moved your head to look over to Quinn, but Jack grabbed your chin, shifting your gaze back to himself. “Don’t look at them. Look at me.” You graced him with a small half smile, as you leaned further into his touch. “Pretend I just said something funny.”
You rolled your eyes, your tone flat as you spoke. “Haha, Jack! You’re hilarious!” Jack cracked a smile and burst out laughing at your attempt to fake a laugh. Your laughs quickly went from fake to real in an instant. Jack blushed at the sound, pulling you in closer. The two of you carried on in conversation, laughing with each other, and you eventually found your head resting on his shoulder. You were being more touchy with him than normal, in an attempt to make Quinn jealous. Jack was fine with this, welcomed it even, but a part of him felt bad for playing into your vulnerability. While you were in the middle of animatedly telling Jack a story about work, Adelaide’s attention caught sight. She tilted her head and smiled, watching the two of you interact.
“They’re so cute together.” She remarked, drawing Quinn’s attention away from the water. He shifted his gaze, eyes darkening at the sight of you wrapped around his brother. He simply scoffed and returned his glare to the water, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous watching the two of you touch each other like that. He was so used to having you follow him around like a puppy, he didn’t think about the consequences of bringing a girl to the lake house. He kept his eyes on the water trying his best not to look at the two of you, when he heard Adelaide's phone camera shutter.
“Did you just take a picture of them?” He asked, glancing over to her.
“Yeah, it’s just a cute photo. They’ll want it.” She brushed him off with her hand, pointing his sight back to the water.
“Okay. Just don’t post it or share it anywhere. They like to keep their personal lives private.” She agreed and the two of them went back to cuddling in the captain's chair. You were too wrapped up in Jack to even notice Quinn and Adelaide anymore. The two of you were laughing about old times, squeezed into each other. You couldn’t help but lean into the comfortable touch of Jack, who was holding you with such care. The way he rubbed his thumb against your skin and squeezed your thigh, made your body tingle in a way that it had never before. You and Jack were always touchy and affectionate with each other. It’s the kind of friendship you had, but it was never like this. This felt like Jack was being possessive, and you wouldn’t admit it, but you liked it. You noticed the way he would squeeze your thigh whenever he caught Quinn looking as if to say, “She’s mine. You can’t have her.” In his head, he thought no other man should be able to look at you on the boat like he did. He admired the way your skin shone from the sun under your baby blue bikini, the way your bun slightly tugged at your scalp when you laughed, and the way your cherry red lips smiled down at him when he said something cheeky. This beautifully painted picture was for him and him only. He wanted Quinn to know that. Even if he thought you were only doing this to get a rise out of Quinn, Jack looked at it as a distraction from the sadness of the situation for you. He felt a sense of protection over you from Quinn, being an audience member to your little routine every summer. He never wanted you to get hurt because even if he had deep feelings for you, you were still his best friend.
As the sun began to set, Quinn pulled the boat into the dock. He and Adelaide stepped off first, hand in hand, with Luke and Trevor following close behind. Cole walked over to you and Jack who had coincidentally fallen asleep on each other. His grip on your waist was still tight as you rested your head on his shoulder. His head had fallen onto yours, mouth parted slightly as the two of you slept peacefully. You were both rudely awakened by the sound of Cole clapping his hands together in front of your faces.
“Rise and shine dickheads.” You slowly opened your eyes, blinking to adjust to the sudden light. Jack woke up beneath you, rubbing his eyes as he unwrapped his arms from around you. You quickly got back on your feet, Jack following behind you as you both lazily stepped off the boat. “Gotta stay alive for the party, princess.” Cole placed his hands on your shoulders, guiding you off the dock. Jack walked closely, ready to snatch you away from Cole’s grip in a millisecond. He noticed the way you covered your arms with your hands as goosebumps grew across your body, without a thought behind his eyes he immediately handed you his warm shirt that had been drying under the sun for hours. You sent him a gratitude filled smile as you slipped on the shirt, feeling instantly warmer. Jack didn’t stop there, he put his arm around your waist, pulling you close, subtly hinting to Cole that this wasn’t a friendly touch anymore. Jack was actually trying to reel you in like he said he’d do years ago. The three of you broke off into your separate rooms to begin getting ready for the annual party thrown by Jack and Quinn. You were dreading the party this year, having to be crammed in the basement surrounded by Quinn’s teammates, you were just thankful that some of the Devils would be there too. As you stepped into the shower, you let the warm water entrap your body, washing away the weight of the day. You stayed still for a second just letting the shower pour down on you, grateful that your horrible boat ride had come to an end. Watching her and Quinn felt worse than actual torture. It wasn’t even the fact that you had feelings for him, because if you were being honest they weren’t extremely strong, it was the fact that he could be so loving and good to her and not you. For years Quinn has led you on and brought you down over and over again, and here he is playing wife and husband with some bunny he met on a roadie. I must be the problem, you thought to yourself, and unfortunately that idea would stick. You exited the shower, slipping a towel over your frame, leaving the bathroom quickly. You entered the bedroom only to see Adelaide sitting at the vanity curling her hair and doing her makeup. You had completely forgotten that you had to share a room with her this summer, considering Ellen and Jim wouldn’t let couples share rooms in their lake house. It didn’t matter if you were adults, the rules were if you aren’t engaged or married, you can’t sleep together.
“Oh hey, Y/n!” She turned her attention from the mirror over to you in your towel. You simply waved to her wearing an awkward smile. She was really nice, almost too nice. “You and Jack looked really cute on the boat today.”
“Thank you.” You mumbled, not knowing what else to say. You rushed to your dresser, pulling a pair of panties from the drawer before heading to the closet to grab your sundress. The silence was deafening and awkward. In her head, Adelaide wanted to talk to you, but she could sense your tenseness. You however, couldn’t speak to her. You were afraid that you would talk too much and accidentally let too much slip about you and Quinn, or maybe she would start talking about how great he was. That was bound to bring you to tears. You decided at that moment to exit the room, feeling uncomfortable undressing in front of her. Sure, she was a girl, but you barely knew her, and the thought of her judging you made your whole body cringe. You left the room, wrapped in your towel, walking through the halls until you made your way to Jack’s room. You knocked on it twice before hearing a faint “Come in.” Pushing the door open, you found Jack, Cole, and Trevor sprawled out on the bed, their attention fixed on their phones. They were already dressed in their clothes for the party, and you couldn’t help but notice how sharp Jack looked in his fitted white polo and jeans, his hair slightly tousled. You stomped over to the bed, tossing your clothes onto the floor before flopping down on the edge next to Cole’s feet, resting your head against Jack’s thigh.
“What's got you down, Bunny?” Trevor asked, tearing his gaze from his screen.
You sighed dramatically, covering your face with your hands. “I hate her.”
“Hate who?” Cole questioned, glancing over.
“Quinny’s new girlfriend.” Jack said, running a hand over your wet hair. “You don’t hate her, B. You told me yourself.”
“Ugh! But I want to!” You flopped your arms down in frustration. “It’s just so frustrating.” You sat up to face Jack, making sure your towel was securely wrapped around you. “Do you know how difficult it is to watch someone that's hurt you over and over again, treat some random person like she’s his wife right in front of you?”
Jack laughed, pulling your towel up to your chest that had slightly fallen down. “Can’t say that I have. Not the universal experience you think it is.” You rolled your eyes, pouting your lips slightly at Jack’s absence of understandment.
“Yeah, why don’t you go talk to Addy about it.” Trevor said her name mockingly which caused you to whip your head over to him.
“Say her name again.” You warned, squinting your eyes at him.
Trevor’s face flushed quickly as he tried to quickly pull himself from the situation “Addy.” He said normally.
“Nuh uh. That’s not how you said it!” You shifted your body closer to Trevor, now invading his space. “You don’t like her!” Trevor’s eyes widened in fear.
“T-that's not true. I like everyone! Everyone is my friend.” He let out a nervous laugh before widening his eyes again at the sight of your stare. You stared at him intimidatingly with a small smile, knowing he would eventually crack. “Fine! I don’t like her!” Trevor buried his face in his hands.
“Yes!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms up in triumph as groans emerged from Jack and Cole.
“Great going, Trev. Told you not to say anything.” Cole smacked the side of Trevor’s head.
“You’re just feeding into her delusions.” Jack huffed out.
“Well, you guys are both fine with her, I can’t stand her! Apparently, Bunny can’t either, so allies.” You gave Trevor a fist bump, earning more groans from the boys. “I-I can’t help it! She cornered me and talked about her new Dior makeup set for like an hour!”
You gasped in disbelief “She uses dior?” Trevor nodded his head with wide eyes. “That rich skank!”
“Exactly! Then, she starts bragging to me about all the things Quinn buys her, like I'm supposed to be jealous. ME. TREVOR ZEGRAS.”
You let out a slight laugh, now lying against the headboard in between Trevor and Cole. “Oh my god. She sucks.”
“No, no, no, no.” Jack interjected. “Bunny, Trevor is filling your head with garbage.” Jack scoffed, sending Trevor a glare before turning his attention back to you. “You’re only saying this stuff because he’s giving you a reason. You know that when you start talking to her again, you’ll forget this conversation ever happened and you’ll be back to being sad because you like her so much.” You whipped your head back over to Jack, indignation written all over your face.
“You called her a slut on the boat!” You pointed at him, gasps escaping from Trevor and Cole.
“Wh- I Di- I was trying to make you feel better!” Jack whisper yelled. Cole shifted in his seat, becoming more interested in the conversation.
“Jacky doesn’t like her either!” Trevor began to laugh, causing a smug smile to wipe across your face. “Admit it, Hughes. You don’t like your big brother’s ‘slut’ girlfriend.” Trevor let out, moving closer to you on the bed.
“She just seems…” He sighed, trying to collect his thoughts. “Too good to be true. Like she’s too nice.” You clapped your hands together in excitement, sitting up in your seat.
“That’s exactly what I'm talking about! It seems fake!” You yelled.
Jack rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help chuckling. “Like, I handed her a drink from the cooler and she said ‘Thank you so much Jack! This is amazing. You’re the best ever.’ Who is that happy to drink a Whiteclaw?” He mocked her voice with a high-pitched tone.
“She just seems too polished,” Trevor added, nodding his head. “Like she’s trying to win the girlfriend of the year award.”
Cole leaned back tossing a glance at you “Yeah you wouldn’t catch her dead hanging out with us on the bed in a towel.” You shifted from your position off the bed, signaling the boys to cover their eyes so you could get changed. You turned around, dropping the towel before putting on your dress.
“No, I get it, Jack. She came up to me before we got on the boat, looked me up and down, and said ‘ugh I wish I had your confidence’” Several “oooh”s and hisses from the teeth emerged from the boys. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but looking back it was pretty backhanded.” You said, slipping the straps of your dress up to your shoulders.
“How do I look?” You asked, spinning around as the boys uncovered their eyes, jaws dropping at the sight of you in your checker-patterned red dress. Trevor let out a low whistle as Cole clapped his hands in approval. Jack's gaze lingered over you for a moment longer. His eyes tracing up and down the dress that he had bought you last year on your birthday, wanting nothing more than to rip it off. You walked back over to the bed and Jack quickly sat up, taking the hem of your dress in his hand.
“You look beautiful as always.” He sent you a smile that made your heart race in an instant. Cole and Trevor side exchanged knowing glances with a slight smirk at the interaction. You smiled down at him, ruffling his hair as your cheeks flushed.
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An hour into the party, things were finally starting to settle in. You had taken shot after shot, doing your best to forget about the simmering situation in front of you. Quinn and Adelaide were sitting on the couch, arms wrapped around each other as they talked to Elias and Brock. That used to be you. You loved those guys and you missed talking to them, but they were Quinn’s friends, not yours. You were too drunk to even care when Luke pulled you away from your glare to a clearer area of the room. Everything was a blur. You were all smiles and laughs as Luke pulled you closer to him to dance to Pink Pony Club. You were on aux of course, the boys knew it was the only way you would have it. Luke had one hand on his beer and the other on yours as he spun you around. You laughed gracefully as you flopped against him while he jumped around. He set his beer on the table next to him, taking both your hands in his as he moved your arms back and forth. He stuck his tongue out as he jumped, moving closer as you laughed, leaning into him.
“Hey! is that girl looking at us?” He yelled into your ear, picking his beer up from the table.
You looked over your shoulder to see a small brunette girl who was eyeing Luke as she took a sip of her drink.
“Yeah.” You yelled back, a smile growing across your face at Luke’s excitement. “Go get em’ Lukey!” You pushed him away, towards the girl. He immediately got flustered and whatever drunk confidence he had, had suddenly left his body entirely as he went to speak to her. You laughed at the interaction and made your way towards the kitchen, settling yourself next to Nico the moment you caught sight of him. You hopped onto the counter, Nico having to spot you with his hands as you stumbled. You grabbed the side of his head, pulling his ear close to your lips.
“Grab me another drink?” You asked loudly. Nico turned to face you, laughing at your eyes that were lazily falling closed.
He placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to give you some sense of reality. “How about a water?” You grinned wide and nodded your head slowly at him. He smiled and walked off to get you a glass. You stayed on the counter, letting your gaze fall to Quinn and Adelaide yet again. They were standing in a circle, his arms wrapped around her as she chatted with Bella Boeser. You had always been good friends with Bella at social events like these. The two of you would manage to find each other and chat in a corner while Quinn and Brock were off entertaining their friends. It occurred to you in that moment, Bella hadn’t come up to you at all tonight. She seemed much more interested in Adelaide and her attempts at kindness. You felt a wave of sadness wash over you as you realized that this girl was quite literally taking everyone from you.
“Stop gawking over the Canucks.” Nico walked up, handing you the water before draping an arm around your shoulders. “Being a Devils girl is way better.” You laughed at what you assumed to be an attempt at flirtation, but you were very wrong. “You're lucky your boyfriend is on our team and not theirs.” You nearly spit out the water in your mouth, turning your head to Nico with a stern look.
“Boyfriend? W-what? I don’t have one of those.” You said softly, worry filling your eyes.
“Wait, wait what? You and Jack aren’t-”
“No, why would you think that?” You cut him off loudly, playing with your necklace anxiously. Nico looked at you with wide eyes, tilting his head to the side.
“Uh- the post. I thought it was like a hard launch or something. Doesn’t look too friendly to me.” He laughed. Your eyes grew wider in fear, your mouth parting slightly as your heart beat faster.
Your grip on your necklace tightened as fear struck through your entire body. “Nico, w-what the hell are you talking about? What post?” Nico motioned towards your phone that sat on the counter next to you. You quickly picked it up, handing it over to him after unlocking it. Nico scrolled, and you bit your lip nervously, growing anxious to know what he was talking about. He handed the phone back to you, letting your eyes fall to a clear picture of you sitting on Jack’s lap laughing on the boat, his hands wrapped around your body. You stared down at the screen, heart racing as the realization sank in. The photo was up there for the world to see, one that you don’t even remember taking. Jack's arms wrapped around you, looking too comfortable to be “just friends”. You turned your attention to the top of the screen, seeing that it was Adelaide who posted the photo. Your blood boiled over your anxiety filled body, knowing that it was common knowledge that you and Jack preferred your personal lives to be private. “I-I-I gotta go. Thank you for the water.” You hopped off the counter, leaving your cup next to Nico. You quickly made your way through the swarm of people that filled the basement, looking for Jack. You pushed your way through the crowd, ignoring the curious stares and whispers. Your pulse was thundering through your ears as you made your way to the far side of the basement, where you last saw Jack. Finally, you spotted him leaning against the wall with Jesper and Curtis, laughing and entirely oblivious to the picture Adelaide posted.
“Jack” You called out, his smile faltering at the sight of your facial expression.
“What's up?” He asked, moving away from his friends to meet you halfway. You didn’t waste any time. You grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs. He didn’t know what was going on, but he could sense your worry so he followed you immediately. You made your way through the upstairs hall until you finally made it to his room. You pushed him inside, quickly shutting the door behind you.
“Bunny, what’s going on?” Holding up your phone, you shoved it into his hand so he could see Adelaide’s post. His face shifted through a range of emotions. Confusion, surprise, and finally a hint of frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply, as he planted himself on the edge of the bed. “Are you kidding me? She posted this?” He groaned.
You nodded, crossing your arms. “And now everyone is going to think we’re together. Nico already thought you were my boyfriend.” A hint of sadness behind your voice.
“There is something wrong with that woman.” Jack huffed out, rubbing his neck. You sat down next to him, holding his arm and leaning your head on his shoulder. He leaned into your touch, placing his head on top of yours. “I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Before you could respond, there was a knock on the door. The two of you turned and the door opened slightly before Trevor and Cole poked their heads inside, their faces a mix of curiosity and amusement.
“You two good in here?” Trevor asked, eyebrows raised as he looked between the two of you.
“Can we get five minutes without the two of you barging in?” Jack rolled his eyes as Trevor and Cole settled themselves in the room, shutting the door behind them.
“Five minutes, huh? That’s all you need?” Cole grinned, leaning against the wall.
Jack groaned, throwing his hands up “Seriously, dude?” Trevor made his way over to Jack, leaning over his shoulder to see the phone. He squinted his eyes slightly, trying to get a better look.
You looked up at Trevor, letting go of Jack’s arm. His eyes were wide and his mouth gaped open as he looked at the phone. “Holy shit.”
“What? What is it?” Cole asked, pushing himself from the wall to get a good look. He took the phone from Jack’s hand, pulling it closer to his eyes. “Oh my god. Did you even know she took this?” You shook your head, biting your lip ever so slightly. Jack huffed his breath, standing up to face Cole and Trevor.
“This is bullshit.” He said, taking the phone from Cole’s hand. “I’m gonna talk to Quinn.” Jack started making his way to the door before you quickly stepped in front of him, placing a hand on his chest. You could feel his heavy breaths, the way his chest moved up and down in a pattern you’d never seen before.
“No, wait,” You said, your voice quiet. “Let me talk to her first. I’m sure she just didn’t know, let’s not throw her under the bus.” You looked up at Jack with pleading eyes, taking your phone from his hand.
Behind you, Trevor crossed his arms as he shook his head. “Don’t defend her-”
“I’m not defending her.” You cut him off, your voice raising slightly. “I-I’m just saying, let’s not snitch. Let me talk to her, woman to woman. I’m sure she’ll take it down.” Jack let out a heavy sigh, stepping back slightly to silently give you permission to talk to her. You nodded your head, glancing over to Trevor and Cole with a small smile before making your way out of the room. You didn’t realize how drunk you truly were until you started making your way down the hall. The adrenaline of seeing the post had sobered you up, but only for a split second. You stumbled your way down the stairs, your grip on the railing firm as the room began to spin around you. You stood at the bottom step, scanning the basement for Adelaide. You finally found her standing by the kitchen counter, her blonde hair now tied in a low bun to reveal her gorgeous collarbone. You pouted slightly, seeing how perfect she looked knowing that you were a hot, drunk mess. You made your way towards her, repeating affirmations to yourself as you built up your confidence. When you reached her, a smile grew across her face almost immediately.
“Hey, Y/n!” She exclaimed, her tone happy. “I haven’t seen you all night.” You sent her a sheepish smile, anxiously playing with your necklace again.
You brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, trying to find that confidence you were meant to have. “I know! It’s so crazy in here.” You let out a forced laugh, trying to hide your nervousness, which she mirrored quickly. “Listen, I gotta talk to you about something.” She tilted her head, sending you a closed mouthed smile as she reached for her drink. She took a sip, silently waiting for you to speak. “This um…this picture you posted of me and Jack. I-I know you mean well, but we do like to keep that part of our lives private.”
Adelaide placed her drink on the counter, her eyes widening as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You let out a sigh of relief and a teeth-showing smile at her response.
“It is totally fine.” You said, letting out a relieving laugh. “Just, with the media it’s kind of hard.”
She nodded her head, gracing you with a smile. “I totally understand that.” Your smile grew wider, wondering why this was so hard for you to do in the first place.
“Yeah, so if you could just take it down-”
“Oh, no.” She cut you off. Your smile quickly faded as you stared at her. Her fake smile still plastered on her face.
You let out a nervous laugh, gripping onto your necklace. “I-I…uh.” You paused, clearing your throat. “What?”
She picked her drink back up, raising her eyebrows. “It looks good on my instagram. Plus, you and Jack look super cute. Don’t stress it.” She laughed, letting her grin go wide. “There’s so many pictures of you and Quinn on the internet, so what’s one with Jack?” She shrugged her shoulders passive aggressively as she walked away into the crowd. You were left standing there in pure shock. Your mouth dropped, your arms falling limp to your side as you tried to process what just happened. The tension in your chest tightened as her words replayed in your mind. The dismissiveness, the fake sweetness masking her clear intentions, it hit you like a gut punch. You were rooted to your spot, staring at where she’d disappeared in the crowd. Your fingers still toyed with your necklace, a nervous habit you couldn’t seem to shake. She was jealous. You’d never even thought of the idea that maybe Adelaide would be a little shaken up by staying in the house with her boyfriend’s childhood fling. You assumed Quinn kept his mouth shut about the two of you, considering he never cared about you that much. What did he tell her? What could he have possibly said to her that would make her want to put you and Jack on blast to the internet?
Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands land on your shoulders. “How’d it go?” You heard Cole’s voice shout through your ear, but still not enough to knock you from your state. You couldn’t even move to look at him, your gaze centered on the crowd.
“I-um…” You cleared your throat. “She said no.” You said flatly.
Cole moved his head closer to yours, glancing at you with a side eye. “No?” You knocked yourself out of your daze, turning fully to face him.
“She’s jealous.” You said quietly, leaning in closer so he could hear you. “Said there’s so many photos of me and Quinn, so why not have one with Jack.” Cole’s mouth gaped open in shock, no one expecting her to say no. He was speechless, unaware of what to say in this moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Jack walking closer, a stern expression on his face. You let out a sigh of defeat, waiting for him to walk over.
Jack could sense the tension as he stared between you and Cole. “What happened?” He asked, the sentence coming out more as a statement than a question. You crossed your arms, your fingers digging into your sides as you glanced at Cole. He still looked too stunned to speak, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to find words that just wouldn’t come. Jack’s gaze didn’t waver from you, his brow furrowed in concern as he waited for your answer.
“She said no,” You finally said, your voice flat and devoid of emotion. You clenched your jaw, betraying your anger that simmered just below the surface.
Jack blinked, his confusion quickly shifting to irritation. “She what?”
“She’s jealous.” Cole interrupted, his words finally making their way out. “She’s using you to show people that Bunny’s with you and not Quinn…I think?” Jack stared at you for a moment, processing what Cole just said. Then he muttered a curse under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he turned slightly away, his frustration evident in every movement. “Unbelievable.”
“Hey, guys!” Quinn yelled from the couch, turning down the music. You clenched your jaw at the sound, watching Trevor walk up behind Cole. “Come over here with us.” You scanned the couch seeing Adelaide, Quinn, Brock, and Bella all squished onto the couch. Nico and Jesper sat next to each other on the floor while Elias sat across from them. Luke pranced his way to the big chair, pulling the brunette from earlier down with him. You bit the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to do at this moment.
“What’d I miss?” You heard Trevor whisper into Cole’s ear.
“Not good.” Cole mumbled back.
You jolted slightly at the feel of Jack’s hand intertwining with yours. He took a sip from his beer bottle before pulling you to the living area with him, Trevor and Cole following close behind. Everyone in the room had their gaze centered on the four of you as you silently made your way over. Quinn was staring especially hard at your hand intertwined with Jack’s. He let go of your hand to allow you to take your seat on the floor in between himself and Trevor. The room felt like it was holding its breath, everyone’s gaze locked on you and Jack as you sat down. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You couldn’t help but notice the way Quinn’s jaw tightened, his hand resting on the back of the couch near Adelaide but clenched just enough to betray his irritation. Your eyes darted around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone as the anxiety rose through your body.
Quinn cleared his throat as he shifted in his seat. “We’re gonna play truth or dare,” He said, causing Jack’s eyebrows to knot. “Addy’s idea.” You glanced over to Adelaide who sent you a shit eating grin, like she had you in this perfect trap designed specifically for you.
“Isn’t this a kids game?” You said, taking a sip of Jack’s beer bottle.
Quinn scoffed, rolling his eyes slightly before looking back at you. “It’ll be like old times.” You felt a lump in your throat as your heart dropped, but you were quick to swallow it down. Jack’s arm moved to cross behind your back, not quite making contact with your skin, but it was enough to make your heart race. Quinn went first, daring Brock to take three shots in under ten seconds which he failed miserably at. Brock asked Elias to tell the story of how he lost his virginity.
“I was fifteen, after a school dance in my car. It was terrible.”
Elias asked Luke to tell the craziest story about Quinn in high school.
“Well when Bunny was sixteen-”
“He said tell a story about Quinn, not Bunny.” Jack was quick to interrupt at your defense. Luke told a story about Quinn getting drunk and trying to climb up the house to his bedroom window. Luke then dared Trevor to let him draw a dick on his face, which Trevor was drunk enough to be excited about. You laughed hard when Trevor turned to face you, a realistic looking cock on his forehead with the cheesiest grin you’d ever seen. Trevor asked Cole to tell the room his celebrity crush.
“Weak question. Meryl Streep. Love a good gilf.”
“Gross, Cole.”
Cole dared Nico to share his last google search with the group.
“Nico Hischer sexy tweets? That’s insane.”
Nico turned to Adelaide, who picked truth. He asked her what the most expensive gift Quinn had bought her was, and her eyes beamed like this was the question she’d been dying to answer.
“Probably my Louboutins.”
Your heart dropped when her gaze centered on you, a smug smile wiped across her face. You kept your expression stern, wanting to show her that you weren’t intimidated.
“Truth or Dare?” She asked, a hint of aggressiveness behind her voice.
You took another sip of Jack’s beer, letting your legs come uncrossed as you leaned back on your hands. “Dare.” Jack, Trevor, and Cole all let out small but noticeable sighs. They knew you only said dare because you were drunk and determined, and they all wished you would just keep your mouth shut at that moment.
Adelaide let out a soft laugh, like she had you exactly where she wanted. “I dare you…” She paused, letting her words hang in the air knowing it would cause you more anxiety. “No-” She said, causing your brows to furrow. “I dare you and Jack,” The words sent a shiver down your spine, knowing you couldn’t back out. “To go into the closet for seven minutes in heaven.” Jack groaned quietly as you bit the inside of your cheek. The circle boomed with laughs and whistles. Everyone had a smile plastered on their face except for you, Jack, Cole, Trevor, and shockingly Quinn. The laughter and whistles of the group felt deafening as Adelaide’s smug expression deepened. Jack shifted uncomfortably beside you, running a hand through his hair as his cheeks flushed.
You exhaled sharply, masking your nerves with a nonchalant shrug. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” Your voice was steady, but your heart was racing as you stood up. Jack’s eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, searching your face for some kind of reassurance or escape. Finding none, he reluctantly stood too, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“Seven minutes,” Adelaide chirped with a saccharine sweetness, glancing at her phone as she set the timer. “Don’t keep us waiting.” The closet door swung open, and you stepped inside, Jack following closely behind. The space was tight, filled with jackets that smelled faintly of cologne and laundry detergent. The door clicked shut, plunging you into darkness save for a thin sliver of light from the bottom. Not being able to see in the darkness, you pulled out your phone.
“What are you doing?” Jack asked, his tone curious as his frame towered over you.
You bit your nails, opening up messages. “Texting the groupchat.”
You: okay it’s official i hate this bitch.
Cole: You should see the smile on her face rn
Trevor: Yeah she looks like pennywise kinda
You: just glad me and trevor were right for once 🥳
Trevor: Me and Cole will try to brainstorm some good revenge plots
Cole: Yeah you guys just thug out your seven minutes
Trevor: In heaven
Jack: Fuck off Trevor.
You sighed, putting your phone in your pocket. The room was dark again as you and Jack stood, facing each other. The closet was tiny and you didn’t realize how close the two of you were until you felt his breath on your forehead. It sent shivers down your spine almost immediately as you tried to keep yourself content. The tension in the closet was palpable as the soft sound of Jack shifting his weight echoed in the cramped space. You felt his hesitation as much as your own, the unspoken words swirling between you like a storm. His breath, warm and close, made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite decipher.
“I don’t know what to do…” You let out. “in this weird situation with her.” Jack let out a hard sigh, which you felt against your skin.
“Just- don’t think about it.” He said gently, his hand hovering over yours. “Use this time as your distraction from the night.” He had fully enveloped your hand at this point, slowly moving closer towards you. You couldn’t see, but his face was plastered with a bright red tint when you began rubbing circles against his hand. The sounds of laughter erupted from the living room, muffled but still noticeable. In just two seconds, all that noise faded into the background as you felt Jack squeeze your hand. You could feel the heat from his body as he moved closer, your chests almost clashing together.
“I-Is this weird?” You asked, your voice just barely above a whisper as you felt yourself gravitating towards him.
“Is what weird?” He mumbled. You felt your breath hitch as your faces now sat merely inches apart. You stood on your tiptoes, trying to get closer.
“This.” You whispered, your lips so close to touching as Jack moved an unexpected hand to your waist, a touch that sent hard palpitations to your heart.
Jack let out another breath, his thumb now tracing circles against your hip. “Does it feel right?”
You bit your bottom lip, shutting your eyes at the feeling of his voice vibrating against your face. “Mhm,” You let out, nodding your head.
“Then, no. It’s not weird.” He whispered, ghosting his words against your lips. The hand that was holding yours moved up to your face, cupping it gently. Your stomach twisted at the touch, gently leaning in closer. Your knees closed together, as if keeping them open would unleash every sexual feeling that had been building up for the past ten years. You felt your heart almost beat out of your chest as Jack finally closed the space between the two of you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. It was hesitant at first, like he was waiting for your permission, but you quickly kissed him back, biting his bottom lip gently. Endless hours of flirtatious teasing, watching you swoon over Quinn, it all led up to this moment. The kiss quickly grew hungrier as Jack’s hands pulled you closer by your waist, tasting every lick of the satisfaction he’d yearned for all these years. Your hands moved to the back of his neck, letting your fingers explore his hair as he moved closer against you. The kiss was slow at first, but quickly intensified when you felt his tongue swipe your bottom lip. You opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to enter as he devoured every inch of you. He pushed you up against the wall, his pelvis absentmindedly grinding against you which caused a slight moan to escape from the back of your throat. You felt your stomach tingle as a flood rushed to your panties, moving your hands to grip his shirt. Jack’s lips moved in a way that was perfectly catered to you, like it was something you needed but never knew. His hands made their way up your body, one settling on your back to cradle you. His tongue pushed further into your mouth, almost reaching towards your throat. His other hand found its way to your thigh, slowly reaching up your dress to toy with the string of your underwear, twisting it with his finger against your skin. He pulled back only the slightest amount, his lips ghosting yours. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” He whispered against your lips, the feel of his breath causing you to shudder, growing hungrier by the second. You weren’t thinking about Adelaide or Quinn, your mind was only on Jack and how bad you realized you wanted him.
“I need you.” You whispered back, your lips growing dry from his absence. “Please,” Jack didn’t waste any time before crashing his lips back onto yours, moving more intensely than before. The kisses became sloppy, like he was starving for this feeling his entire life. His fingers made their way down, just barely touching your folds through the fabric of your panties. You let out a heavy breath through the kiss, silently begging him to keep going as he teased you slightly. He bit down on your bottom lip as he moved the fabric to the side, revealing every inch of yourself. You whined slightly at his touch, finding yourself in this moment of vulnerability you’d never expected to have with Jack. His finger lightly brushed over your heat, testing the waters as you ran your hand through his hair to pull him closer.
“Can I-”
“Yes, please.” You said eagerly before pulling his lips back onto yours. Jack moved his hands to the strings of your panties, slowly pulling them down to your shaking knees, not removing his lips from yours once. Your hand was now fully tangled in his hair, the other on his back to pull him closer. Jack wasted no time before allowing a finger to enter your cunt, feeling the wetness that was made just for him. You let out a soft, quiet whimper against his lips as he gently explored your walls. He pumped his finger in and out slowly, removing his lips from yours to plant kisses on your neck. You leaned your head back, breathing heavily as his thumb made contact with your clit. “Jack,” You whispered. Never in your life did you expect to have any part of him inside of you, but now that you were here, you couldn’t imagine your life without it.
“You have no idea what this fuckin’ dress does to me.” He mumbled softly against your skin.
“Fuck.” You let out quietly as he entered another finger, filling you in just the right way. Your fingers tugged at his hair, pulling him closer as his motions grew faster. Your legs locked around his fingers, his other hand finding its way under your dress to your breast. He continued pumping in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit as he reconnected his lips with yours. He felt your insides, like it was a forbidden place he’d been waiting so long to explore. His hand made its way under your bra, squeezing your breast gently. You tried to silence yourself, but it was becoming more and more difficult with every thrust of his fingers. You felt yourself reaching peak, which was shocking in such a small amount of time. Something about the way Jack moved around your body, touching every spot in the exact right spot. “I’m gonna come.” You whispered, pulling back slightly.
He grinned as he moved his mouth down to your collarbone, placing gentle kisses across your neckline. “Let go for me, bunny.” His motions intensified, your breaths growing heavier by the second. He nibbled slightly against your skin, but not enough to leave marks. You let out a quiet moan as you finally released your juices around his fingers, letting him ride you out until the end of your climax. Your chest rose and fell heavily as Jack removed his fingers, taking them to his mouth. Both of you wished you could see each other’s faces at this moment, but the closet was pitch black. Years of suppressed feelings you didn’t even know you had, all spilled out onto Jack Hughes’ fingers. He moved his hands down to your knees to pull up your panties, your hands still tangled in his hair. “You alright?” He asked, his voice quiet but audible.
You removed your hands from his hair, letting your body fall back on the wall. Your breathing was still heavy, but you managed to speak. “Yeah,” You whispered. “I-I’m good- that was…” You paused for a second, your face quickly capturing a wide grin. “That was amazing.” Jack let out a sigh of relief, a smile growing on his face as he leaned in to kiss you again. It was gentle, allowing it to last for only a few seconds.
He pulled back, his hand coming up to cradle your face. “Listen, Bunny-”
“Seven minutes is up!” The door jolted open, causing you and Jack to quickly separate as Trevor stood in the doorway. He glanced between the two of you, a wide smile growing across his face as he took in the sight. You both looked rough, your hair messy, clothes not exactly straight. He let a small laugh escape his lips as he held the door open. “No way.” Was all he said before Jack rolled his eyes, giving Trevor a hit to the shoulder as he made his way back to the living room. You stood there in shock, running a hand through your now frizzy hair as you looked at Trevor. “That good, huh?” He asked, a sly grin across his face. You rolled your eyes, throwing your hair up into a ponytail as you made your way out of the closet.
“Shut up, asshole.” You mumbled, causing a giggle to erupt from Trevor. Trevor’s laugh followed you as you stepped back into the circle, your cheeks burning under the weight of everyone’s stares. You refused to meet Adelaide’s gaze, knowing her smug smile was probably plastered across her face. Instead, you focused on Jack, who had taken a seat on the couch and was pointedly scrolling through his phone, avoiding eye contact with anyone. You sighed, wanting him to look up for just one second, but his entire face was red and his lips were puffing out. “So,” you broke the silence. “Who's next?”
Quinn looked up at you, biting the inside of his cheek as Adelaide shifted her weight onto him. “I’m going to bed.” He said flatly before leaving his spot on the couch, Adelaide following close behind, giving you a wink before walking up the stairs. The tension in the air was thick as you took a seat next to Jack, his arm absentmindedly draping over your shoulders which caused your heart to drop. Cole and Trevor both had wide eyes, looking at you and Jack, then to each other. Little by little, everyone made their way out of the house, the party simmering down as you and Jack stayed in your own little world. He scrolled through his phone as your eyes grew tired, falling asleep against his body. Luke took his new ‘friend’ up to his room by the end of the night, Bella and Brock left shortly after with Elias following behind, then finally Jesper and Nico passed out on the floor of the kitchen. It was just you, Jack, Cole, and Trevor left downstairs. The living room had quieted down to the faint hum of music playing in the background and the occasional clink of empty bottles being cleaned up. Jack’s arm remained draped over your shoulders, his phone still glowing in his hand as he scrolled absentmindedly. You felt his warmth against your side, your head resting against him as your eyelids grew heavier. Across the room, Trevor and Cole exchanged another round of wide-eyed glances, their smirks only growing. Trevor leaned closer to Cole and muttered something, and Cole stifled a laugh, though it wasn’t quiet enough to go unnoticed.
“What’s so funny?” Jack asked, his voice calm but with a hint of annoyance as he finally glanced up from his phone.
“Oh, nothing,” Trevor replied, feigning innocence, but his grin betrayed him. “Just… didn’t expect you two to get so close tonight.”
Jack rolled his eyes but didn’t move his arm from around you, a fact that clearly wasn’t lost on Trevor. “Grow up, Zegras.”
Trevor yawned dramatically, standing up and stretching. “Well, I think that’s my cue to crash. Try not to do anything weird while I’m asleep, you two.”
“Go away, Trevor,” you muttered, leaning in closer to Jack’s side. His hand moved to your shoulder, stroking soothing circles with his thumb.
“You wanna go to bed, Bunny?” He asked quietly, leaning his head against yours. You nodded your head slightly, sitting up to let Jack stand. Jack stood up, offering you a hand to help you off the couch. His movements were slow, almost hesitant, as if he didn’t want to disturb the calm bubble the two of you had created. You took his hand, your legs a little wobbly from the unspoken moment in the closet as you followed him toward the stairs. Behind you, Cole gave a low whistle, and Trevor made a mockingly loud kissing sound. “Goodnight, children,” Jack deadpanned, throwing a pillow in their general direction without even turning around. You couldn’t help but grin, shaking your head as you climbed the stairs behind Jack. Once you reached the hallway, the noise of Trevor and Cole’s laughter faded, leaving just the sound of your soft footsteps. Jack led you into his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. Without you having to ask, he went to his dresser to pull out a Devils t-shirt and a pair of shorts for you to wear. You smiled at the gesture through your sleepy eyes, taking the clothes from his hand.
“I um…” Jack paused, looking towards you as you held the clothes close. “I wanna talk about it.” He said quietly. You smiled at him, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. He followed close behind, sitting down next to you. His thigh brushed against yours as he looked into your eyes, taking your hand in his. “Bunny, I-” He took a moment to gather his thoughts, letting out a sigh. “I care about you. Like, a lot.” Vulnerability wiped across his face as you sat next to him, brushing your thumb back and forth on his hand. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the weight of his vulnerability washing over you. Jack wasn’t someone who usually wore his emotions on his sleeve, and seeing him like this, nervous and sincere, made your chest tighten in the best way.
“I care about you too, Jack,” you said softly, your voice steady even though your heart felt like it was racing.
He let out a breath, like he’d been holding it since he started speaking. “I mean, I really care about you,” he clarified, his eyes locking onto yours. “It’s not just… I don’t know how to explain it. You’re not just my friend. You’ve never been just my friend.” The room felt impossibly small, the air between you charged with emotions neither of you had fully acknowledged until now. His hand tightened slightly around yours, like he was afraid you might pull away.
“Jack,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Because I didn’t want to mess things up. You’re my best friend, Bunny. And you always had this annoyingly huge crush on Quinn, which pissed me off more than it should because he just tore you down over and over again. if you didn’t feel the same, I didn’t want to ruin… this.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, his cheeks tinged pink.
You smiled, your thumb continuing to brush against his hand. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” His brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. Instead, you leaned in, closing the small gap between you and pressing your lips softly against his. Jack froze for a moment, his brain clearly trying to catch up with what was happening. But then his free hand came up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer as he kissed you back. It wasn’t hurried or desperate like before, it was warm and gentle, filled with all the unspoken feelings he’d been holding onto for so long.
When you finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours, a mix of disbelief and relief written all over his face. “So… does this mean you feel the same?”
You laughed softly, resting your forehead against his. “What do you think, genius?”
Jack’s lips curved into a smile, his confidence returning now that the weight of uncertainty had lifted. “I think I should’ve said something a long time ago.”
“Well,” you teased, your voice light, “better late than never.”
He chuckled, leaning back slightly but not letting go of your hand. “So… are you still okay sharing the bed? Or should I take the couch now that this is out in the open?”
You rolled your eyes, standing up to change into the clothes he’d given you. “You’re not going anywhere, Hughes.” Jack laughed quietly, lying back on the bed with his hands behind his head as he watched you.
“Yes, ma’am.”
As you climbed into bed next to him, he pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist. For the first time that night, the tension melted away, replaced by a sense of calm and certainty that you hadn’t felt before. And as you drifted off to sleep in Jack’s arms, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something even better than you could’ve imagined.
#freeabortionslol#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#jh86#nhl fanfiction#nhl players#fanfic#imagine#lake house groupchat#hughes brothers
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aline
“et j'ai crié, crié "aline!" pour qu'elle revienne, et j'ai pleuré, pleuré, oh j'avais trop de peine”
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pairing: wednesday addams x reader
summary: sometimes you’d talk about dying to wednesday, though it was something an addams couldn’t ever really fear. that was, until the person being lost was you.
warnings: erm you die lol, major character death, wednesday being sad, mentions of blood, self sacrifice, maybe a little contrived way to die but too bad
word count: 1.6k
A/N: i promise im okay but this was truly an interesting plot line to follow, and i couldn’t bear not writing it down. if it made you sad, don’t worry, because i have more fluffy stuff on the way. it was something short i had considered doing for a long time, so even if this flops i'm completely happy with how it came out.
===+++===
===+++===
"Wednesday?" you asked, eyes on the wooden ceiling of her room. From the way her head rests against the warm plane of your chest, she can feel the smooth skin move as you say her name, heart right under her ear. It nearly lulls her to sleep, had it not been a question.
"Yes?" she purrs, lazily propping herself up on her arm. There are heavy weights on her eyelids, but the line of your mouth tells her something is troubling you. You’re too saturnine, much too glum for what you and Wednesday just did, and her eyes soften imperceptibly, her thumb going to your side to quietly stroke itself back and forth there. “What’s plaguing you?”
You can’t help but shudder at the contact of her hand and the goosebumps the pads of her fingers leave in their wake. “Are you... do you...," you attempt, the question falling flat on your tongue. She furrows her eyebrows at your hesitation.
"Say your thoughts,” she says, forehead creased in concern. It's almost funny, how caring and soft she is, now that she's given up on trying to seem aloof and apathetic towards you, her skin warm against your own.
The Addams Curse to love someone with every fibre of their being had taken hold of Wednesday entirely, and she looked at you sometimes like you held her beating heart in your hands, or at least like she'd cut it out for you, if you were to need it. She raises a hand, gently brushing a few hairs from your forehead.
“Are you afraid of dying?”
Her eyebrows furrow even further, scanning your face for any indicators of harm. “Where is this coming from? Has something been done to you?”
But you shrug, finally looking down to look her in the eyes with softness. “I was just wondering… are you?”
She narrows her eyes. “You know I’m an Addams. Death is a friend, not a foe. Fear of that serves no purpose. Only cowardice from facing a fight. Only to make you weak.”
Your eyes flit away. “Hm.” There’s no hiding of disagreement in your tone, and it has an embarrassing amount of power over her, how she itches to know what goes on in that head of yours.
“What?”
“I think… I think my fear is what makes me strong. I’m afraid of losing those I care about. And so I fight with every bit of sweat, blood, and tears that I have. Your loss is my deepest fear, Wednesday. My deepest.”
She stared at you momentarily, then looked out the window to the stars. “How is one to fear death when it is far from the end? Death may take me from your sight, but it cannot take me from your heart. There I live, vibrant and whole. Forever.”
===+++===
You’d never even realised how much blood the human body could actually hold, until you were standing there in the centre of the quad with an arrow straight right below your heart, its steel tip poking from your back. Your own blood coated your hands where you cupped it, dribbling down the splintered wood and splattering in droplets to the cobblestone in thick, dark red splotches.
The blood— your blood— is coming out even more now, and you turn to look at Wednesday, where you had shoved her out of harm’s way. Her eyes are wide in horror, like she's seeing something straight from a nightmare of hers, and you take a clammy step towards her, frigid and burning at the same time.
“Wens—” you stammer, and suddenly your knees are giving out. She rushes forward, trying to catch you in her arms, but you're too heavy, deadweight that tugs on her. You fall onto them, your knees, clutching at the newly opened maw of your chest with a gasp, and before you know it you’re falling forward towards the floor.
Wednesday follows you down, catching you before you can land, and she holds you tight, turning you over onto your back as the arrow sticks straight up from the heart she cherishes so much. The wood is already splintering, nearly falling apart, and her hand goes to your wound as if trying to put your blood back into your body.
It’s uncomfortable, with the metal tip of Xavier’s arrow sticking from the back of your chest and lightly prodding at her front, but she squeezes you tightly against herself, hands frantically travelling the length of your torso and raking over your arms, anywhere she can reach. But there’s nothing she can do. It’s a thought she refuses to confront, but Wednesday specialised in dealing with dead things; she was unfamiliar with how to keep things alive, no matter how much she needed you to stay that way.
Crackstone is cackling from his belly, a toothy sneer spreading itself out onto his leathery face as he looks at the damage he’s done, stomping towards you. “Hey!” Bianca yells from the opposite door, and the pilgrim whips around, as Xavier takes another shot at him. It lands in the pilgrim’s arm but he pulls it out like a twig, snapping it and tossing it to the ground, before he makes his way towards Bianca.
Your white shirt is completely soaking itself in your blood, droplets running down Wednesday’s fingers where she tries to hold the wound and apply pressure. But there was no saving a skewered heart.
"No, no, no," she coos, voice barely above a whisper and tears already pricking at the corners of her eyes. You're crying out in pain as the arrow shifts within you, fingers scrabbling at Wednesday's arms where they hold at you. Your fingernails sink into her skin, and she winces but doesn't pull away.
"Wens," you say again, infinitely weaker than before. "Wednesday…” It’s like your mouth won’t move coherently with your brain, like words mean trudging through ice and slush to come out, even the red-hot ones you need to say. “H—Hurts,” you spit out, and with it comes a small stream of blood from your mouth as you cough and air becomes less and less available.
She nods in a rush, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. “I’m aware, I know,” she’s completely crying now. “We will get you care, cara mia, just hol— just hold on for a little while.” But you’re shaking your head.
“Don’t have— I don’t have—” you’re coughing up more blood, and she wipes it from your chin with a shaky hand. There’s just too much of it, everywhere. You had once gifted her some as a token of your devotion and it was a prized possession of hers, but now there was so much and she would have given it back in a heartbeat if it gave you any more of those.
She can vaguely hear Bianca and Xavier yelling on the other side of the quad, and various fires rage on in their chaotic yet vibrant corners, tickling against her skin in large crackles, burning in the reflection of your eyes that stare up at the sky. Your head is leaning against her shoulder, and she raises her hand, stroking through your soft hair as you heave in her arms.
“You must live, I promise you,” Wednesday insists fiercely, “I promise you, if you die right now, I will kill you.” But its tears that streak down her face, her jaw clenching and dark eyeliner running down her cheeks. She’s squeezing you right against herself, feeling the pain of the sharp arrow poke at her own skin.
“Vibrant and wh—whole?” you said with a smile, feeling your voice begin to slow down and with it, the beating of your heart. The blood has pooled in a sick puddle around your body.
She’s shaking her head. “Cara mia, we don’t need to do this, we will get you to a doctor. You will be—”
“—Wednesday,” you interrupt. Your voice has reached an eerie calm that sends a shiver down her spine, and it snaps her from any sort of hope. “Vibrant… and whole?”
She looks down at you for a moment, tracing the features of your nose, the planes of your cheeks, the colours of your eyes and the wryness of your smile. Wednesday swallows. “Forever. You know that. You must always know that.”
You nod, letting out a small laugh. It hurts, she can hear you wheeze right after you done it, but you sit in silence for a moment, and she can feel you get slower and slower, and your shirt gets redder and redder. The tears are uncontrollable, now, as she sits there with you. Her friends are losing in the corner, but she's losing something unthinkable, and she's so damn scared the entire time it's happening.
"The stars look beautiful tonight," you whisper so only she can hear it, your voice cracking at the end. In seconds, you're gone. She can feel the life, the glorious life, evaporate from you, your head lulling back against her and your weight becoming a hundred times heavier, but she doesn't move, squeezing you against her.
She's unsure how long she stays like that, but when she can no longer take it, she shifts, laying you down on the ground. You look peaceful, looking up at the stars, and it takes an effort to close your eyes that Wednesday had never felt with the dead before. She gently closes them, shutting the door on the eyes that used to captivate her very heart. It's almost like she could convince herself that you're only resting for a moment, and she leans over you, placing a meaningful kiss upon your forehead, just like she would when she snuck out after a night of sleeping over, and there were no prying eyes there to watch.
"Vibrant and whole," she whispers like a promise, turning back to the fight with a piece of the sword in her shaking fists. "For you, cara mia."
===+++===
well that was sad... anyways more happy stuff coming next time
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#letorip#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday x reader#wednesday addams#wednesday addams x you#wednesday addams x y/n
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Sunshine [11] - Blast
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️
I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: Every break up has an aftermath.
Word Count: 4244
CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI
Series Masterlist
The month after your brutal breakup hadn’t been so easy.
When Theo was around, you made sure he didn’t notice anything. His happiness was the most important thing for you, it had been that way ever since he was born, so you weren’t going to ruin it. Every weekend, you pretended you were incredibly happy and that nothing was wrong at all, despite the heartbreak you were going through.
Your friends were the only people who knew just how sad you were, and they had formed a very united front to change that.
“We have found the one.”
You pulled your brows together as you filled Jamie’s cup while Nik gave you a proud smile and Julie sat up straighter, repressing a squeal.
“You two are dating, so you’ve already found ‘the one’” you used air quotes, making Nik roll his eyes.
“Not for us!”
“And Julie would’ve told me if she found the one.”
“I’d also be shouting it from the rooftops, but this isn’t about me.”
You threw your head back. “I’m not gonna go on a blind date.”
“Hear me out,” Jamie said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “This guy has been approved in the group chat.”
“What group chat?”
“Our group chat.”
Your jaw dropped. “You guys have a group chat without me?”
“Yes because it’s being used purely to find you your Mr. Right.”
“And we know it’s been only a month since you and Logan broke up but fuck Logan,” Julie added. “I’ve been carrying a magnet in my purse ever since you told me about your break up, just in case I run into him.”
Nik turned to look at her better. “You’re joking.”
Julie grabbed her purse and took out a small horseshoe magnet, making your eyes widen.
“I don’t play about my threats,” she told Nik. “That motherfucker broke my best friend’s heart, so I’ll point this magnet at his—”
“Where did you even get a magnet like that?” you cut her off and she shrugged.
“I googled it.”
“I’ve only seen these in cartoons,” Nik mused, reaching out to get the magnet from Julie before Jamie cleared his throat.
“Our point is,” he said. “You’re better off without Logan, and I think you’d really like this guy.”
You heaved a sigh, resting your elbows on the counter.
“Guys I really appreciate all the effort,” you said and stole a look at Julie. “And the magnet but—seriously, you know how much I hate blind dates.”
“Well does it count as a blind date if we show you his picture?” Nik asked, getting the phone from Jamie before turning the screen so that you could see the picture.
Even you had to admit, he looked cute. It was as if Jamie had decided to find you someone the complete opposite of Logan; he seemed younger than him -around Jamie’s age if you weren’t mistaken-, he had dirty blonde hair, and just from the picture alone, you could tell he was the type of person who liked to smile, a lot. Judging by his white coat, he worked in the same hospital Jamie worked in, and you stole a look at him.
“Your coworker?”
“He works in ER,” Jamie said. “Saved a kid’s life the other day.”
“And I’ve met him,” Nik said. “He’s like a cute puppy but also a badass.”
“And he is very handsome, you like handsome,” Julie sang tauntingly and you ran a hand over your face.
“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not over Logan yet.”
“The best way to get over someone is good sex,” Julie pointed out. “We’re not telling you to move in with the guy. We’re just telling you to just…go on a date and see where things go.”
“And it could help,” Nik said softly. “You know, distracting yourself from your ex.”
You bit inside your cheek, then clicked your tongue.
“Ugh, fine,” you muttered, making them grin. “But if I don’t like him, I’ll leave and you guys will delete that group chat. Alright?”
“Deal.”
*
One of the things you hated about blind dates was that you always got incredibly nervous right before. The urge to text them and stay in instead would always get the best of you—now to think of it, the only person you didn’t get that urge with was Logan.
Well.
Logan was out of the picture, and you had to deal with that.
But if anything, at least Jamie knew this guy and was friends with him, so the odds of him being an ass was pretty low.
You pulled over in front of the restaurant before checking your phone to see whether it was in fact the right place, then slipped a little in the seat. This was by no means your first rodeo but…
You really wanted to just go home and get under covers and listen to Julie’s break up playlist.
“Worst case scenario, you’ll just have one drink and go back home,” you muttered to yourself. “Come on soldier.”
You checked your makeup in the rear mirror, then got out of the car and locked it before you smoothed out your dress and made your way to the restaurant. The hostess greeted you and after you gave her your name, you followed her into the restaurant.
Oh, he was already there.
If Logan wasn’t at the back of your mind, you were sure that you would’ve been excited. He really was a good looking guy, the smile that appeared on his face upon seeing you looked very genuine, and the fact that he jumped on his feet to greet you was a great sign.
However—
Okay no, you were not going to think about Logan tonight, not at all.
“Hi!” he said and you smiled back.
“Hi,” you said and you extended your hand but he went for a hug before he paused and made a move to shake your hand but this time you were the one who went for a hug, so you gave him a curt hug before pulling back.
“Jesus—sorry, that was awkward,” he said and you tried to control your giggle at the look of slight regret on his face.
“No worries,” you assured him and he gave you a tentative smile.
“I’m Hayes.”
You introduced yourself as well before the waiter pulled your chair for you and you thanked him, then sat down. Hayes followed you suit, then motioned at his wine glass and the appetizers.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“No no, not at all,” you said and looked up at the waiter who put the menu in front of you. “Can I get the same as well? Thank you.”
Waiter nodded and walked away from your table, and you turned to Hayes.
“Uh, hi again.”
“Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “So uh…blind but not so blind date?”
“Sounds about right,” you said. “I mean I saw your picture.”
“So have I.”
“Jamie showed it to you?”
“Technically no.”
You blinked a couple of times. “How’s that?”
“Jamie has a picture of you and your whole friend group on his desk,” he admitted as the waiter brought your wine and you thanked him. “I saw your pic there and I asked about you in a way that was very subtle in my opinion but Jamie disagrees.”
You raised your brows, smiling slightly. “You’re not serious.”
“It was kind of like Jamie was an app and I was fervently trying to swipe.”
A small laugh escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth. “Oh my God…”
“Am I giving off serial killer vibes?” he asked to no one in particular. “Because I swear I save people for a living, that’s not—it’s just that you are very pretty and I’m very rusty when it comes to all this.”
You lowered your hands to give him a bright smile.
“You’re very sweet,” you said. “I didn’t think you were rusty.”
“No?” he asked and let out a breath. “Thank God.”
“It’s been a while?” you asked him after a moment of hesitation and he hummed.
“Listen, rusty or not I know talking about previous relationships is a red flag.”
“I don’t mind,” you said. “Let me guess, you had a long relationship and…?”
“And walked in on her and my best friend.”
“Ouch.”
“Former best friend.”
“Still ouch,” you said with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I mean—I changed cities but it has to be for a good cause. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“How about you? I find it hard to believe you go on blind dates if I’m honest.”
“Oh I’ve gone on blind dates,” you assured him. “And uh—my friends have made it their life mission to matchmake me, they apparently have a group chat where they approve people.”
Hayes pulled his brows together. “Holy shit, I’ve been approved in the group chat?”
“Yes you have,” you said. “Congratulations.”
“I feel very validated,” he mused, making you giggle. “No seriously, knowing Jamie, this is the same as passing a very difficult exam with a jury.”
“Yeah he’s very protective, especially after—” you stopped yourself and Hayes shot you a lighthearted look.
“Hey, I talked about my ex.”
“Well, I got dumped,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “And Jamie never approved of him, so now he’s like extra careful.”
Hayes hummed and lifted his wine glass slightly.
“Well, on behalf of all men in this city, we’re all very glad that your ex is an idiot.”
You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glass as well.
“Yeah well,” you trailed off, trying your hardest to not let your thoughts drift to Logan. “So you’re an E.R. doctor?”
“I am,” he said. “And you?”
“Oh I…I’m just a waitress,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, that feeling of inadequacy hitting you out of nowhere once again. “Nothing too exciting.”
“Do you like where you work?”
“Yeah, I’m friends with everyone there except my boss,” you said. “It’s pretty nice. And you? I heard you saved a kid’s life the other day.”
A bright smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, that’s why I like working in the E.R. I can actually make a difference in just seconds, you know? It makes me feel alive, like I’m doing something right with my life.”
You nodded your head. “I can imagine. Sounds wonderful, really.”
He sipped his wine.
“So tell me more about you,” he said. “Jamie says you have a son?”
“Yeah!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the mention of Theo. “Yeah I do. Theo. He’s the cutest kid in the world, and I’m very objective about it.”
That made him laugh. “At first I thought Jamie was a father, with all the drawings in his office…”
“Oh he still keeps those?”
“With all due respect, it’s like a shrine in his office.”
“You should see his and Nik’s fridge, they have like one picture there and the rest is Theo’s artwork.”
“Really?”
“He had his artist phase, now he’s—” you started but were cut off when your phone started buzzing. You gave him an apologetic look.
“Excuse me,” you said as you grabbed it out of your purse, but as soon as you saw the name flashing on the screen, your heart dropped.
Logan.
A part of you -the petulant part of you- wanted to reject the call but you took a deep breath, then licked your lips and then answered.
“Hello?”
There was a second of hesitation on the other line before he cleared his throat.
“Theo is fine,” he said. “But he needs you here.”
Your head shot up. “What? What happened?”
“There was a small accident—”
“What accident?” you asked, your heart leaping to your throat as fear crashed down on you. “What—is he—”
“Like I said, he’s completely fine, I promise,” he said, his deep voice soothing your fear as always. “He had a nightmare, his powers took over and he blew up the wall in his room accidentally but he’s fine and so is everyone else. He locked himself in the basement though, and refuses to come out.”
You could feel your throat tightening but you took a shaky breath, then nodded as if he could see you.
“I’m on my way,” you said and hung up before turning to Hayes.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, pushing your phone into your purse. “Theo is…he’s in a boarding school in the city but he—he had a nightmare and he locked himself in the basement.”
“Oh I’m sorry,” Hayes said, frowning. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” you said despite the anxiety churning your stomach, then stood up. “But I need to go, he must be terrified.”
“Of course,” Hayes stood up with you. “Would you like me to drive you there?”
“No no, I can drive,” you said. “I really appreciate it though, thank you.”
“Oh it’s nothing, really,” he said. “I hope he’s feels better.”
“Sorry, again.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Is it okay if I get your number from Jamie?”
“Sure!” you said. “I’ll—I’ll see you around I guess?”
“Have a nice night,” he said and you gave him a curt smile, then made your way out of the restaurant, your heart beating in your ears.
*
If it were any other time, you would’ve been nervous to see Logan after a month, for the first time after your break up but you were so worried about Theo that it didn’t even cross your mind that Logan would be the one to greet you.
Which, of course he was the one to greet you by the door. He probably took your scent the moment you drove through the gates.
He looked almost frozen the moment you stepped out of your car but he recovered very fast.
“Hey—”
“Where is he?” you asked without so much as glance in his direction as you walked past him into the mansion and Logan easily caught up with you.
“In the basement,” he said. “Follow me.”
When you two got to the basement, Storm and Jean were already there.
“Hey, he’s totally fine,” Jean assured you the moment she saw you and Storm nodded her head.
“We could’ve opened the door but we didn’t want to scare him any more than he already is,” she assured you. “He only said he wants you, and now he’s not talking to us.”
“But he’s not hurt in any way,” Logan added. “I don’t smell any blood or pain, and Jean already checked his mind.”
You raised your brows, then took a deep breath.
“Thanks,” you said and smiled at Storm and Jean. “Really, thank you so much. I can take it from here.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” you said and swallowed thickly. “It’s not the first time this happens.”
Storm and Jean exchanged glances before Storm turned to you.
“I’ll just go and check the other students then.”
“And I’ll fill Charles in,” Jean said, squeezing your arm in a reassuring manner before they both walked away and you ran a hand over your face, then walked to the door of the basement and knocked softly.
“Bean?”
The only answer you got was a sniffle, breaking your heart to smithereens. You could feel your own eyes burning but you frowned, forcing yourself to focus.
“Bean, are you there?”
“…Yes,” his small voice reached you and you took a deep breath.
“You think you can open the door?”
“I had a bad dream.”
“I know,” you said, nodding fervently. “Everyone has bad dreams, it’s completely normal. And what do we do when we have bad dreams?”
“We have hot chocolate because that makes them go away.”
“Exactly,” you said. “So can you open the door please?”
“People will be angry at me.”
“What? No!” you said. “No one will be angry at you, I promise.”
“Mommy, it was an accident,” he said, a hiccup escaping him and you rested your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes before swallowing the lump in your throat.
“I know,” you said. “And so does everyone. No one is angry at you—Logan, is anyone angry at Theo?”
Logan came closer to the door so that Theo could hear him better.
“Not at all,” he said. “If anything I’m a little jealous. Blasting walls is so badass, I’d love to be able to do that.”
“You hear that, bean?”
“Really?” Theo’s hopeful voice reached you and Logan smiled slightly.
“Sure bub. And hey, turns out we’ll have to decide on your superhero costume sooner than you think.”
“There you go,” you said. “Superhero costume sounds fun—”
A meow cut you off, making you tilt your head.
“Bean, is there a cat in there with you?”
“…No.”
Another meow reached you and you raised your brows.
“Theo.”
“I found him here and we’re friends now.”
“Okay,” you muttered more to yourself. “Theo—”
“His name is Sir Bartholomeow,” Theo added as if it was imperative that you knew that information and you heaved a sigh.
“Very creative bean, but can you please open the door? So that we can drink hot cocoa and I can meet your friend?”
There was a momentary hesitation and another sniffle before you heard the lock turning and you took a step back so that you could see him better. Theo was still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly crooked over his face as if he had put them on in a hurry, his wide teary eyes looking up at you. In his arms, he was holding probably the grumpiest looking cat you had ever seen in your entire life so tight that it was a wonder why the cat wasn’t trying to escape. A breath of relief left you and you crouched down to get to his level.
“Hi bean,” you said gently. “How about we give your friend to Logan so that they can be friends and I can make sure you’re okay?”
Logan stepped closer. “Yeah bub, I can take the cat—”
“Sir Bartholomeow,” you and Theo said at the same time and Logan cleared his throat.
“Yeah, him.”
Theo sniffled again before tentatively handing Sir Bartholomeow to Logan, and you checked whether he was hurt anywhere before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Theo was still shaking like a leaf and he mumbled ‘mommy’ before burying his face to your chest while you stood up with him in your arms.
“I’m here,” you said softly, still holding him tight. “I’m here, it’s fine. I swear everything is gonna be fine.”
*
Theo never liked being away from you and that turned into a whole different level whenever he had a nightmare. You would be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to have him in your sight so after he drank his hot chocolate, you had carried him to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, humming the lullaby he used to love when he was a baby.
There it was again.
Times like these, you always remembered just how utterly alone and clueless you were in this whole thing.
You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked down at him, then leaned in to kiss his head and pulled the covers over him, and walked out of the room as quiet as a mouse.
The mansion was mostly quiet, and even though you could still hear the voices coming from the kitchen, you desperately needed to be alone in case you burst into tears, so you walked through the hallway to step outside, the cold wind hitting your face. Heaving a sigh, you made your way to the stairs to sit down, and wiped at your eyes furiously before wrapping your arms around your knees, fixing your gaze on the stars glimmering in the sky.
You heard the front door open before the familiar footsteps came closer and you felt him drop his jacket over your shoulders before he sat down as well.
“Hi Logan,” you rasped out, sniffling and he offered you a hesitant smile.
“Hey,” he said, putting the bottle of whiskey between you two before he made a face. “Shit, I forgot to bring glasses.”
You scoffed a laugh. “We’ve done worse things than drinking from the same bottle.”
“Right,” he said after a beat and you grabbed the bottle to take a swig, grimacing at the burn before putting it down again.
“How’s your arm?” he asked and you took a shaky breath, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Healed,” you said and turned to look at him better. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”
He was too smart to miss the double meaning of your remark and his lips twitched for a moment.
“I’d bet,” he muttered. “Fun date then?”
You pulled your brows together in confusion and he nodded at you.
“I haven’t seen you in that dress before and you smell like someone else.”
You smelt like—
Oh. Hayes had hugged you.
“I don’t have the capacity to get into that bullshit right now,” you stated and Logan swallowed thickly, then nodded again.
“Right,” he said. “Of course.”
For a minute, the only thing you could hear were the crickets and the sound of the faint wind in the air before Logan take a deep breath.
“He’s fine, princess.”
You bit at your nail, blinking back the tears before you shook your head.
“No he’s not,” you said. “You and I both know that he’s not fine. Not really.”
“He’s too powerful,” Logan said. “Accidents like these will happen, you can’t really avoid them. What matters is that he hasn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”
You took another sip of the whiskey.
“Having you here helped a lot too,” he said. “He calms down when he sees you, that’ll be good for him.”
You clicked your tongue.
“Yeah, for now,” you muttered and Logan frowned.
“For now?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Until he grows up and hates me for everything I’m doing wrong as we speak.”
“That’s not true.”
“No no it is, I’m fucking up big time,” you said with a dry laugh. “Jesus, my mom said I had no idea what I was doing and I was too busy arguing with her that I didn’t even see it but it’s true. I have no clue.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”
“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” you told him, blinking back the tears. “He’s too little to see it now, but sooner or later he’ll see that everything that happened to him is my fault, even the fact that his powers showed up—”
You had to stop talking when your voice cracked and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, sniffling again. He reached out for a second as if he wanted to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks but then paused, pulling his hand back, his jaw clenching like he was in pain. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting out a shaky breath.
“I’m terrible at this,” you said, nodding to yourself while Logan kept his burning gaze on you.
“I promise you, you’re not,” he said. “Theo adores you, and I think you’re the best parent I’ve ever seen in my life which in case it has escaped your notice, that’s a lot of years.”
You raised your brows, wiping at your nose before you cleared your throat and took off the jacket to place it into his lap, then stood up with Logan following you suit.
“I can drive you home,” he said and you threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.
“I had like three sips of whiskey, I can drive.”
“I can still drive you, it’s been a long night.”
“I’m fine.”
“No I want to,” he insisted and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look. His eyes met yours before he took a deep breath.
“I just…” he trailed off. “I want to—I want to make myself useful.”
You frowned, staring at him. “Why?”
“No reason,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t ask for anything, just…like I said. I want to make myself useful. I need to make myself useful.”
Your stomach did a flip as a painful smile curled your lips.
Oh.
This. You were familiar with this.
You had been through the same. You were in fact going through the same right now, frantically looking for something to ease the pain. Your solution was to follow your friends’ advice and try to date around, ignoring the way it just felt wrong when you were still in love with him, and Logan—
Logan was dealing with it in such a Logan way that it was almost ironic how you didn’t see it coming.
“It’s not going to help,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and he gulped, his jaw clenching.
“It could,” he managed to say through his teeth and you sniffled, shaking your head.
“It won’t,” you rasped out. “I’m sorry, it won’t.”
The agony that flashed over his handsome features twisted at your heart but you managed to smile at him.
“Good night Logan,” you murmured and walked away from him, painfully aware of his eyes following you.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan wolverine#logan x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#james howlett#logan howlett imagine#logan x you#james logan howlett#logan xmen#wolverine logan
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Request hehe: Maybe Reader has some trust issues due to past cheating etc. So she is constantly doubting If Rafe is doing something behind her back and it’s damaging their relationship/Rafe is feeling very offended that she could ever think that and leaves very upset. So some self-sabotage on her part.
a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! 💗 pngs from @saizun
the tension in the room was as palpable as the crisp autumn air seeping through the edges of rafe's window. you stood by the edge of the bed, arms crossed, while rafe paced near the door, his brows furrowed and lips drawn tight. it wasn’t the first time you’d found yourself in this situation—accusations hanging in the air like a storm cloud.
“i just don’t get why you think i’m lying to you,” rafe finally said, running a hand through his messy blond hair. his voice was raw, teetering between frustration and sadness. “what did i do this time?”
the pang of guilt that shot through you was immediate, but it was quickly overshadowed by the relentless doubt that had been gnawing at you for weeks.
“i don’t know, rafe,” you muttered, staring down at your hands. “you’re just… too good to be true sometimes. i mean, look at you.” you gestured vaguely at his tall, athletic frame, the way he looked even in a simple t-shirt and jeans. “how do i know you’re not out there talking to someone else? everyone likes you.”
he stopped pacing, standing still for a moment as your words sank in.
“you think just because people like me, i’d cheat on you?” his voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that made you wince.
“it’s not like that—”
“then what is it like, y/n?” he interrupted, his tone sharp now. he stepped closer, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. “because this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. you keep accusing me of something i’m not doing, and it’s…” he exhaled shakily, taking a step back. “it’s killing me, honestly.”
the tears you’d been holding back began to sting your eyes. you hated how this always ended—with you feeling like the villain and rafe looking at you like you’d just run over his dog.
“it’s not about you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “it’s about me. i’ve been through this before, rafe. i’ve trusted someone before, and they… they betrayed me.”
“and i’m paying for what someone else did?” his voice cracked, and he shook his head in disbelief. “do you even hear yourself?”
you stayed silent, your chest tightening with every second that passed.
rafe let out a bitter laugh, running his hands over his face. “do you really think i’m that kind of person? that after everything we’ve been through, i’d just—what? throw it all away for someone else?”
“i don’t know!” you blurted out, tears finally spilling over. “i don’t know what to believe anymore. i want to trust you, rafe, but it’s so hard. every time you’re late, every time you get a text and don’t tell me who it’s from, my mind goes to the worst place.”
“that’s not fair,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “you don’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. you don’t even try to trust me.”
you wiped at your tears angrily, hating how vulnerable you felt. “maybe i don’t know how,” you admitted, your voice breaking.
rafe stared at you for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he fought to keep his composure.
“i can’t do this,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
your heart sank. “what do you mean?”
“i can’t keep proving myself to you when i’ve done nothing wrong,” he said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i love you, y/n. i love you so much it hurts, but this?” he gestured between the two of you. “this is tearing me apart.”
you took a step toward him, panic rising in your chest. “rafe, please. i’m sorry. i’ll work on it, i promise. just don’t… don’t leave.”
but he shook his head, his expression a mixture of sadness and resolve. “i need some time to think,” he said, his voice trembling. “i can’t keep feeling like i’m not enough for you when i’ve given you everything i have.”
he turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. the sound of the front door closing echoed through the house, and you collapsed onto the bed, sobbing into your hands.
you had pushed him away. the one person who had always been there for you, who had loved you despite your flaws, was gone—and it was your fault.
the days that followed were a blur. you went through the motions of life, but everything felt hollow without rafe. he didn’t call, didn’t text, and the silence was deafening. you wanted to reach out, to beg for his forgiveness, but every time you picked up your phone, the shame stopped you.
instead, you spent your time reflecting on the mess you’d made. you thought about the way you’d let your past dictate your present, how you’d let your insecurities poison something good.
you thought about rafe’s face the last time you saw him—the hurt in his eyes, the way his voice broke when he said he loved you.
you loved him too. you always had. but you’d let your fear overshadow that love, and now you were paying the price.
a week later, you found yourself standing outside rafe’s house, your heart pounding in your chest. you’d rehearsed what you wanted to say a million times, but now that you were here, your mind was blank.
taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.
it opened a moment later, and there he was—rafe, looking as handsome as ever despite the tiredness in his eyes.
“y/n,” he said, his voice soft but guarded.
“hi,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “can i come in?”
he hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let you in. you walked into the living room, the familiar space feeling foreign without the warmth you were used to.
“i’m sorry for just showing up,” you said, turning to face him. “i just… i needed to see you.”
he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “what do you want, y/n?”
“i want to fix this,” you said, your voice trembling. “i want to fix us.”
rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “you can’t just say that and expect everything to go back to normal.”
“i know,” you said quickly. “i know i’ve hurt you, and i hate myself for it. but i’ve spent the last week thinking about everything, and i realized… i’ve been so unfair to you, rafe. i let my past ruin what we had, and i’m so sorry.”
he looked at you, his expression unreadable. “do you even trust me?”
“yes,” you said without hesitation. “or… i want to. i know i’ve given you every reason to think i don’t, but i do, rafe. i trust you more than anyone. i’m just scared. scared of losing you, scared of getting hurt again.”
“you’re not the only one who’s scared,” he said, his voice softening. “do you know how it feels to love someone who’s always waiting for you to screw up? to feel like no matter what you do, it’s never going to be enough?”
tears welled up in your eyes, and you stepped closer to him. “i’m so sorry, rafe,” you whispered. “i never meant to make you feel that way. you are enough—more than enough. and i don’t want to lose you because i couldn’t get out of my own head.”
he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know, y/n. i don’t know if i can keep doing this.”
“please,” you said, your voice breaking. “i’ll do better. i’ll prove to you that i can be better, that i can trust you the way you deserve to be trusted.”
he studied your face, his blue eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.
“i love you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “but this has to change. i can’t keep living like this.”
“it will,” you promised, stepping closer and taking his hands in yours. “i’ll change. i’ll prove to you that i can be better.”
he sighed but didn’t pull away from you. “this is your last chance, y/n,” he said quietly. “i mean it.”
“i won’t waste it,” you promised, looking up at him.
for a moment, there was nothing but silence between you, the tension thick and heavy. then, slowly, rafe’s hands moved to cup your face.
“don’t make me regret this,” he murmured, his voice soft and raw.
“i won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitching as he leaned down.
his lips met yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender, a silent promise of forgiveness and hope. you clung to him, pouring every ounce of your love and regret into the kiss, vowing to yourself that this time, you would get it right.
when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed.
“i love you, baby,” he said again, his voice steady this time.
“i love you too,” you whispered, your heart swelling with both relief and determination.
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl l @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog
#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe fic#rafe#outerbanks rafe#rafe imagine#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe coded#rafe core#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#obx rafe cameron#obx rafe#obx fic#obx#obx cast#outer banks season 4#outerbanks#obx 4#obx season 4#obx4
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Back To You - Part 4 | Sam Carpenter
Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader
Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing
Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.
Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .
Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist
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Present
Billy Loomis is Sam’s real dad. . .
Tara’s words and her recount of her conversation with Sam makes all the puzzle pieces fall into place.
That’s why Sam snuck into my room all those years ago. That’s why she changed so much after, and that’s why she left.
It all makes sense now, but it doesn’t change the fact that she hurt Tara by leaving, hurt me by leaving. It also doesn’t change the fact that she wasn’t there for me when I needed her to most. When I begged her to come back and she just screamed at me to stop calling without even letting me explain why I was calling in the first place.
I’m feeling so many things right now, it’s kind of overwhelming, but I try my best to stay calm so I don’t freak Tara out.
She’s been moved to a private floor since Sam left and slept earlier while I called Liam and Paige again. Now, she’s awake once more, curled into my side while we’re watching a movie together.
I really try to focus on what’s going on, but my mind keeps drifting back to Sam.
She could have talked to me! She could have told me about her real dad. Why didn’t she? Did she think I was going to hate her for it? Did she think I would stop being her friend if I knew?
I wouldn’t have done any of that. Who her father is doesn’t change who she is. At least that’s my opinion. She must think otherwise, because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have left.
I’m mad at her for abandoning Tara and leaving me. I’m sad she felt like she couldn’t talk to me, and I’m heartbroken thinking about how she tried to numb her pain by doing every drug imaginable and sleeping with anyone who would have her.
I still love her, that’s for sure because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be feeling like this, but I’m just not sure love is enough for me to forgive and forget everything she’s done.
“Hey.” Tara’s voice and her finger poking my chin snaps me out of my thoughts.
I clear my throat quietly and look down at her. “Yeah?”
“You okay?” she asks, her kind brown eyes darting between my own.
“No, not really, Sprout.” Tara wrinkles her nose and I chuckle. She’s never liked that nickname. “But I will be, and so will you.“
“You sure?” she asks and I nod.
“I’m sure. Now watch the movie, or I’m changing it,” I tease, making her laugh softly.
“Okay, okay. . .” She looks me over one last time before turning her attention back to the movie, mumbling, “You’re so annoying.”
I just hum and scratch her head, settling deeper into the bed and actually focusing on the movie. Thoughts of Sam are still swirling around in the back of my mind, but I ignore them as best as I can.
About half an hour later, the movie is still playing and, much to my surprise, I’m actually invested in the story now.
Some shuffling and a grunt in the hallway outside makes me look away from the TV though. We’re on a private floor and no one but Deputy Vinson should be here. A nurse comes in every two hours or so to check on Tara, but she was just here before we started the movie.
Alarm bells almost instantly go off in the back of my head, but I don’t want to scare Tara, so I stay calm and shout, “Hello?”
There’s no answer.
“Vinson?”
Again, nothing.
My stomach drops. This is not good. This is not good, at all.
“Y/N?” Tara whispers fearfully, the beeping sound of her heart rate monitor next to the bed speeding up.
I swallow thickly and continue to stare at the open doorway, straining my ears to hear anything else. It stays quiet though, and with every second that passes, the uneasiness in the pit of my stomach grows.
“Y/N,” Tara whimpers and when our eyes meet I see the fear I’m feeling inside reflected back at me.
He’s back. It’s Ghostface. It has to be him. He’s returned to finish the job.
I can feel my own heart rate picking up speed, and after another beat of silence, I decide that we have to leave. We’re sitting ducks if we stay.
“Fuck this.” I swallow again and nod to myself before pushing the blanket to the bottom of the bed. “We’re leaving, Sprout.”
Tara’s eyes widen and she doesn’t protest when I disconnect the IV from the back of her hand. For a moment, she’s frozen, watching me disconnect her from all the machines she’s attached to, before springing into action herself.
With shaking hands, she removes the oxygen tube while I get up and pull the nearby wheelchair to the side of the bed.
I won’t be able to do anything with only one arm, so even though it hurts and I know I’m probably going to tear my stitches, I take off my sling.
I wince at the stinging pain that shoots through my neck and arm, but grit my teeth and help Tara with the rest of the wires. Then I make sure the wheelchair’s breaks are on before turning back to the bed.
“We have to get moving, c’mon. I know this is going to hurt, but we have to go,” I say, slipping my arms under Tara’s knees and under her back. I don’t lift her yet though, waiting for her to nod before hoisting her up.
The gasp she lets out makes me hurt for her, but I can’t stop now.
We have to leave.
Carefully, I lift her out of the bed and place her in the wheelchair, making sure I don’t bump her broken leg against anything.
My shoulder protests, screaming in pain even though Tara is easy to lift, but I don’t stop moving especially when the lights suddenly go out.
We have to leave, now!
Tara whimpers in fear and in pain, and I rush to turn off the breaks on the wheelchair before pushing her to the doorway.
He’s here. I know it.
I peek into the ominously dark hallway all while trying not to let panic take over my mind.
Fear is healthy, panic is deadly.
That’s what my father taught me, and I know if we’re going to get out of this alive, I have to keep a clear head.
The hallway is empty, and the only way out is by getting to the elevator at the end of the hallway, so I slowly push Tara out of the room, keeping my eyes and ears open for any movement near by.
Just get to the elevator.
The deafening sound of Tara’s phone ringing on the bedside table back in her room makes both of us jump for a moment.
Tara sobs quietly, and I tighten my grip on the wheelchair.
I glance over my shoulder, seeing the screen of the phone light up the room before turning back around. There’s no time to get it now, and even less time to answer it.
I push Tara into the hallway, slowly and quietly while letting my eyes dart around in the darkness for any sign of danger.
It still eerily quiet though and I don’t see anything, so I continue pushing her until we get to the nurses’ station.
That’s where a chocked gasp claws it’s way out of Tara and when I follow her line of sight, I freeze for a second.
Laying right there on his back on the ground, with a slit throat and a pool of blood around his head is one of the deputies Sheriff Hicks assigned to Tara’s floor. He’s still alive, even though only barely, and chokes on his own blood, his wide eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.
There’s nothing we can do to help him, he’ll be dead within a minute, but still, the sight of him, so helpless and alone, makes the blood in my veins freeze.
That could be me, or worse, Tara.
Stop! Don’t think about that, Y/N. Focus.
My dad’s voice rings in my head and makes me snap out of it. He’s right, I have to focus.
I’m about to continue pushing Tara towards the elevator, but then a thought strikes me.
I pause and look around again before letting go of the wheelchair and crouching down next to the deputy. I reach for his belt, fumbling around until my hand grazes the holster of his gun.
With a gun, we’d at least stand a change against Ghostface, but as fate would have it, the holster is empty. The gun is gone.
Fuck.
Not only does that mean that we have nothing to defend ourselves with, it also means that Ghostface has the gun.
Tara sobs into her hands and watches me get back up, only to flinch and freeze a second later when we hear a door being opened somewhere down the hall.
There’s no time to ponder over the gun and its whereabouts now. I spin around and take a hold of the wheelchair again.
Getting to the elevator now is too risky. It’s too far away, so I wheel Tara into the room right next to the nurses’ station.
We need help.
Tara whimpers and cries quietly while I close the door behind us. I don’t shut it all the way, just enough to hide us from plain sight while still being able to see what’s going on outside. Then, I fumble around for my phone in my sweatpants.
Just like with the gun though, I come up empty, and the realization that it must have slipped out of my pocket while watching the movie makes my heart drop.
No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.
My hands begin shaking, and it’s getting harder to keep my panic at bay.
We’re alone with a psychopathic killer, we have no way out, no help is coming, and I’m not in any shape to fight properly.
Tears well up in my eyes and I feel my bottom lip quivering. There’s no way out.
My heart starts pounding in my ears and my hands start shaking.
Please, no. Not now.
I’ve had enough panic attacks after my parents death to know what it feels like when one is about to start, and even though it sucks having them at any time, it would be especially inconvenient right now.
I force myself to calm my breaths and blink away the tears, but it doesn’t help much.
We’re trapped.
We’re alone.
I continue to focus on steadying my breathing while also keeping an ear out for any more sounds in the hallway.
That is until Tara nudges me. I clench and unclench my fists, and look at her. She has tears streaming down her face, but she’s urgently gesturing at something she can’t reach.
I follow the length of her arm with my eyes and almost start crying with relief when I spot the phone on the wall right next to the door.
I lunge for it and start dialing 911 with shaking hands only to stop a moment later when another door opens out in the hallway.
Tara clutches the back of my sweater with her uninjured hand and bites her bottom lip to prevent any more sobs from escaping her.
I flinch when another door gets opened, this time closer by, and hold my breath.
This is it. He’s here.
I lower the phone and square my shoulders, ready to fight when the door to our room suddenly swings open.
Tara yelps and I instinctively punch whoever just walked in.
“Ow!” Richie stumbles back against the doorframe and raises a hand to where my fist just connected with his jaw. “Ah, goddamn it!”
“Richie?” Tara’s pulls on the back of my sweater to get me to step out of her line of sight while I simply stare at Richie in disbelief.
I’m honestly relieved it’s just him, and that he’s here because now we’re no longer alone, but I can’t find it in myself to feel sorry for punching him.
“What are you doing here?” Tara asks as Richie continues to recover from the punch.
“Sam called,” he explains and as he continues to talk, I feel some of the tension in my body dissipate. “She said that you were in trouble.”
He doesn’t look at me when he says it, and the revelation that Sam probably only called about Tara is like a blow to the stomach.
I don’t get much time to dwell on it though because a split second later, Ghosface appears behind Richie, ready to strike with a knife in his hand.
“Look out!” I shout, stepping in front of Tara again.
Richie spins just in time to avoid getting stabbed, but the knife manages to cut his forearm. Ghostface goes in for another stab, but Richie manages to catch his wrist before he can bring the knife down on him.
He grunts and they struggle for a moment, but then Ghostface manages to grab the back of Richies head and slam him into the door frame, knocking him out.
“Shit!” I clench my jaw when Ghostface turns his attention to Tara and me, and quickly grab the IV stand next to us, flinging it at him.
Ghostface goes down because the monitor on the IV stand hits him in the head, and I rush to wheel Tara out of the room.
We’re almost back in the hallway, away from Ghostface, when he suddenly lands a punch on the back of my left knee, making my leg buckle. I stumble and manage to regain my footing without going down, but that little trip costs me a lot of precious seconds.
“Y/N!” Tara twists around in the wheelchair with wide eyes and even though I know Ghostface is now back on his feet and right behind me, it still catches me off guard when he wraps his arm around my neck from behind and punches me in the side, right below my ribs.
“Ah, fuck!” I grunt and grab his forearm, trying to pry it away from my neck, but it doesn’t budge. “Go, Tara!”
Another blow, this time to my ribs, takes my breath away, and even though I’m in pain, it fills me with an unexplainable rage.
Instead of trying to get his arm away from my neck again, I dig my heels into the ground and push backward until we hit a wall. Ghostface hisses in pain and I use the momentary distraction to get out of the headlock.
Then, I run to Tara, limping slightly and ignoring the sound of a phone ringing nearby. She’s crying and struggling to move in the wheelchair, and the sight of the blood soaked bandage around her hand makes my stomach clench.
I’m about to reach her, my arms already outstretched to grab onto the wheelchair, but then I’m tackled to the ground from behind.
My head hits the floor, making black dots dance in my vision for a moment and then my head is yanked up by my hair.
“Hold it right there, Tara,” Ghostface says, the voice changer eerily distorting his voice, “or I’ll slit Y/N’s throat.”
Tara freezes and wheels around in time to see Ghostface press the blade of his knife against my neck. He’s kneeling on my back and I know I have no way of escaping without getting my throat slit.
It stings when he pushes the knife down a little too hard, drawing some blood in the process, but I don’t dare to move.
“Y/N!” Tara cries and I try not to cough because of the weight on my back. “No, please don’t.“
“Tara, go!” I rasp, feeling the edge of the knife dig even deeper into the skin of my neck.
Tara shakes he head desperately, tears rolling down her cheeks. “No, Y/N, I—“
“Do you hear that, Sam?” Ghostface says and at the mention of Sam’s name my heart drops. He must be on the phone with her. “Your little sister and Y/N, begging for each other’s lives. Pathetic, don’t you think?”
Tara makes a move to wheel closer, but I pin her down with a stare to stop her. Go, I mouth, but Tara doesn’t move while Ghostface continues talking to Sam.
I can’t hear everything he’s saying because my ears are ringing, but when he suddenly gets off my back and approaches Tara with calculated steps, I hear him say, “So, the choice is up to you. Who is it going to be, Sam? Richie, Y/N, or Tara?”
Tara whimpers as Ghostface gets nearer, but she’s too injured to get away. She manages to turn the wheelchair around, but Ghostface is right there before she can even attempt to get away.
He grabs the handles of the chair and tips it forward forcefully, making Tara fall and land on the ground with a cry of pain.
No, not her. Not Tara. Please, anyone but her. She’s been through enough.
“Stop!” I groan, trying to get up, but slipping on something sticky on the floor. My shoulder stings and the side where Ghostface punched me burns, but I try to get back up again, and this time, I manage. On unsteady feet, I limp toward Ghostface who’s now standing over Tara.
He twirls the knife in his hand and raises his arm, getting ready to strike while Tara sobs.
“No!” I’m not going to make it. “Tara!”
Just then, the elevator dings and the doors open. Ghostface looks up, surprised, and dives out of the way when gunshots ring out.
My eyes widen at the sight of Sam and Dewey?! who dart out of the elevator.
“Tara!” Sam rushes to her sister’s side and drops to her knees, trying to help her to her feet.
“I’ll get Richie,” Dewey says, but then he freezes when his eyes land on me. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? Are you hurt?”
I wave him off and shake my head, looking around to see where Ghostface went. “Not now, I’m fine. Go get Richie, I’ll help Sam with Tara.”
“Okay.” Dewey nods and stares at me a moment longer before dashing past me to help Richie.
The last time we saw each other was at my parents’ funeral. He used to be like an uncle to me because he was friends with my dad, but after the accident, we kind of drifted apart.
Now is no time to dwell on the past though. I push through my dizziness and the pain in my side, shoulder and leg, and limp the rest of the way to Tara and Sam.
Sam’s already managed to get a crying and whimpering Tara to her feet, but Tara can’t walk with her broken leg, so as soon as I’m within reach I tug on Sam’s jacket to get her to stop dragging Tara to the elevator.
“Stop, let me help.”
Sam’s eyes widen. “Y/N, y-you’re here?”
“Of course, I’m here,” I snap, not because I’m mad but because there’s no time to talk. “Now, let’s get a move on!”
Still in disbelief, Sam doesn’t say anything else as I scoop Tara up into my arms.
“Ow,” she whines and I quickly apologize for hurting her.
I limp to the elevator with Sam hot on my heels and lean against the wall as soon as we’re inside. My legs are shaking and my entire body hurts, but I’m not letting go of Tara until we’re safe.
Sam holds the doors open while Richie and Dewey make their way to the elevator.
They’ve almost made it when, out of nowhere, Ghostface comes back, crashing into them from the side. Richie falls to the ground, and Dewey gets pushed against the wall which makes him fire his gun.
A struggle ensues between Dewey and Ghostface while Richie tries to get back up, and for a moment it looks as though Ghostface’s got the upper hand, but then Dewey headbutts him.
Ghostface stumbles back and Dewey grabs his gun off the ground, firing it at Ghostface before he can come at him again.
He stumbles back at the force of the shots hitting him in the chest until he crashes into the glass display cabinet on the opposite wall.
He sinks to the ground and stops moving, and even though I’m not convinced he’s dead, there’s no time to make sure he is. We have to get out of here as fast as possible.
Dewey must think so too because he gets to his feet and immediately pulls Richie up as well.
“Let’s get out of here,” he grunts, dragging Richie toward the elevator. “Come on, hurry up.”
They finally make it, and Richie slumps against the wall next to Sam who runs her hands over him and checks for any not-so obvious injuries.
“You okay?” she asks, her voice laced with worry.
Richie nods and exhales shakily. “Yeah, you?”
Sam nods. “Fine.” Then she turns her attention back to Tara who’s got her arms wrapped around my neck and is crying into my shoulder.
“It hurts, Sam,” she cries, and I press a kiss to her forehead while Sam takes a hold of her hand.
Dewey pushes the elevator button for the first floor, but before the doors can slide shut, he stops them with his hand and says, “The head. . .”
Richie frowns. “What?”
“You have to shoot ‘em in the head or they always come back,” Dewey explains, stepping back out of the elevator.
Sam gapes at him and asks exactly what I’m thinking. “Dewey, who gives a fuck?”
A forlorn look enters his eyes and as the doors slide shut, he says, “I do.”
“No! Dewey!” I try to step forward to stop him, but as soon as I shift my weight off the wall, my legs start trembling, so I slump back and grit my teeth.
It’s too late.
The doors close and the elevator starts descending. A tense silence settles over us for the duration of the ride, but then the doors open and Richie stumbles out first, shouting for help.
Doctors and nurses swarm us almost instantly and within seconds, a gurney is brought over and I place Tara on it.
She’s okay.
Seeing her being taken care of lifts a huge weight off my shoulders and the relief on Sam’s face makes me smile a little.
She’s going to be okay.
The dizziness I felt before suddenly returns full force now that the adrenaline is wearing off, but I can’t sit down and rest until Dewey is safe, too.
He’s up there all alone. Someone has to help him.
I stumble back to the elevator but a hand on my stomach stops me from entering it.
I look down, swaying slightly, before following the arm connect to the hand all the way up with my eyes until they land on Sam’s face.
Wait. . . Sam?
“Where are you going, Y/N?” she asks, frowning.
I blink to get rid of the irritating black dots growing in my vision and try to push past her. “D-Dewey, he needs—he needs help, Sam.”
“I know,” she says, stopping me again by grabbing a fistful of my sweater. “But you can’t go up there. The police are already on their way.”
“But. . . But Dewey,” I slur. I grasp at Sam’s hand to get her to let go of me which, much to my surprise, she actually does.
It doesn’t last long though because not even a second later my knees buckle and I fall forward, right into her arms.
“Y/N? Y/N!” Sam panics and grabs onto anything she can to stop both of us from toppling to the ground. “Oh my God, you’re hurt.”
I awkwardly slide down her body, bringing her down with me until we’re both on the floor and I’m gasping for air.
“Y/N, hey. . . Hey!” Sam grunts and manages to scramble out from underneath me before propping me up against the wall next to us. “Look at me. What’s wrong? What hurts?” she asks, but I can’t answer. My lungs suddenly feel like they’re on fire and every breath I take makes it harder to breathe.
“What happened? Did Ghostface—“ She falls silent when her eyes land on her hands and when I look down, I see why.
They’re covered in blood. My blood. But. . . how?
I think about everything that happened, and then dread settles in the pit of my stomach when the realization hits.
Ghostface wasn’t punching me. When he “hit” me all those times, he wasn’t punching me. He wasn’t punching me at all. He was stabbing me.
Welp, that explains why my side hurts so much. I thought I was going soft.
My eyes flutter shut and I cough, tasting blood in my mouth.
I guess no one noticed I was hurt until now because I didn’t feel anything until the adrenaline wore off and the blood soaking my clothes wasn’t visible because both my sweater and my sweatpants are black.
“Y/N, hey! Don’t you dare close your eyes.” Sam cups my cheeks and shakes my head slightly to get me to open my eyes again. “We need some help over here!” she shouts over her shoulder before looking back at me.
She’s frantic, more frantic than I’ve ever seen her, and her eyes are filling with tears. Her hands drop off my face and she’s quick to push my sweater up to take in the extent of my injuries.
“Oh my God.” Her voice cracks and when she presses her hands against my side to slow the bleeding, I cry out in pain.
I gasp like a fish out of water, still struggling to get enough air into my lungs, and push at her hands.
“No, stop— Stop!” she protests, desperately pressing her hands against my side again.
“Hurts,” I wheeze and Sam nods frantically with tears dripping down her cheeks.
“I know, I know,” she says, “but I’m trying to help.”
I writhe in agony, but don’t try to push her off again. I don’t think I even could if I tried because with every passing moment I feel weaker.
My eyes are also threatening to close again and when Sam notices, she presses down harder on my side and shouts for help again.
This time, a nearby nurse notices and she springs into action. She rushes over, dragging a doctor with her and tells another nurse to bring a gurney.
I don’t focus on her though. No, I keep my attention on Sam and how she’s desperately try to stop my bleeding.
She’s crying, covered in blood, and on the verge of hyperventilating, but she’s still beautiful.
So beautiful. . .
I cough again just as the nurse and doctor drop down next to me, and when Sam takes her hands away so they can examine me, I give into the urge to close my eyes.
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Whew! I wrote this in one sitting, and only proofread it once, so please excuse any mistakes I may have made/overlooked.
Tag list: @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @bella423
#x reader#angst#sam carpenter x reader#samantha carpenter x reader#sam carpenter#samantha carpenter#scream
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thinking about not only the specific people lucanis pulls in to represent the 'locks' in his psyche, but the storytelling that happens in the structure/order of them. the underlying ideas are presented something like:
the lucanis who went into the ossuary never came back out again; he died down there (the boy caterina raised is gone forever) -> you're putting yourself in danger doing this (by being close to me), you should leave because I can't bear it if you get hurt because of me -> it doesn't matter even if we do try this, it won't work anyway (again because of me) ('you know what he's like, you can open the door but he won't walk through it' :'( oofie doofie) -> what if the real secret is that there was never anything but the monster in here from the beginning. you should leave, there was never anything here worth saving in the first place. (implicitly: what if I deserved what happened, all along.)
it runs pretty cleanly from outward-oriented attachment anxiety ('caterina won't even want me back like this, she won't recognize me (the same way I no longer recognize myself)) and gradually deeper inwards until we reach self-image and self worth. or you know, the harrowing basic lack of it lol.
"careful -- they'll know we're not right," spite says in one of their first scenes... but clearly, some very deep part of lucanis has feared or suspected for much longer than that that there's something inherently not right at the core of him, way before any demon entered the picture. and the voice he gives those lines to is the person who should know him better than anyone in the world, who he has loved more than anyone in the world -- and who deliberately chose to hurt him so horrifically anyway. 'It's better if I'm just a monster and deserved what happened than it is to allow for the idea that the brother I love doesn't really exist and maybe never did'. it's better if he's fundamentally flawed in some way that needed fixing to help him survive, and that's why caterina chose to hurt him again and again -- out of love. (this one I think he might have a very sad wakeup call on one day if he ever ends up with the responsibility and care of a child of his own in some way and realizes just how alien the idea of ever intentionally hurting them for any reason is to him. oh buddy. also interesting that he keeps caterina as the outermost lock -- there IS a distance he keeps there that he hasn't with illario. he doesn't resent her 'anymore' he says, but he also keeps her carefully further away from his deepest self.)
as far as I could tell the only note in the mind prison that's fully hidden and needs to be uncovered is the sad painful helpless stupid little truth that even after all this, even knowing what happened... he still loves his brother. is there anything illario could ever do that would make lucanis completely stop loving him, do you think? sometimes the trouble with unconditional love is that it is, well. unconditional, even when some terms and conditions probably would have been in order haha.
that's the pattern you see there again and again; he would rather destroy and abandon and imprison himself at every turn than let go of love, even when it's just scraps, even when there's only ever enough of it to hurt him. it's only when rook shows up and as it were takes his hand and walks along with him that he can entertain the idea of changing the story of what walking out the door might mean in the end.
#tl;dr the demon is a metaphor about dissociation and trauma and it's doing its job thematically fucking pitch perfectly that way the end#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#lucanis dellamorte#dragon age meta#this mission is like ds9 the wire in terms of episodes you really can examine from a thousand different angles#and find something new and soulcrushingly sad every time. exactly my kind of episode in other words#whenever people say there's nothing to him but coffee and spite jokes some small part of me goes 'oh I'm so incredibly sorry!#it must be really hard and so impractical to go through life without being able to read :'( get better soon'#is that very nice of me. perhaps not. is the writing here *perfect*? of course not. but some people are also dedicated to being#wilfully blind (presumably b/c they would have preferred to see something else?? idk man)#lucanis' reaction to taash going 'I'm sorry I'm such a bad crow :'('... he could NEVER do what caterina did with him no matter what#you just can't use him like that. he needs the clean family/enemy/contract distinction or you just break him!!!#caterina literally what are you thinking. every day I ask myself this. (probably 'the only other option that keeps the seat in the family#is illario. so that's right out of course' lmao)#god forbid it happen anytime soon if it should happen b/c there's Stuff that needs working through first lol but he'd be such a soft dad
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❝ everybody wants a taste ❞
# summary; sharing is not always caring
# playlist; jealous, nick jonas, gold rush, taylor swift, the boy is mine - remix, ariana grande, brandy, & monica!
# word count; 1.2k
# note; I did not intend for this to be so long originally, whoops. kinda hate this
"And you're positive you don't wanna come along, darlin'," George asks for what seems to be the hundredth time this evening as he pulls his coat on, he's been begging for you to rethink your decision for the last twenty-five minutes, and you aren't budging this time.
Shaking your head, "I can't leave my baby two nights in a row, honey, that's outrageous," you frown, gesturing down to your dog who has cuddled herself up against the blanket that's still warm from the dryer. He groans, tossing his head back in an attempt to gain extra sympathy points, "Plus, all this laundry and love island to catch up on."
He comes trudging back towards you, flopping down on the bed dramatically, "Don't wanna go without you," he pouts and you kiss his jutted-out lower lip, when you pull back he's fighting a smile and losing miserably, "I'll be right here waiting for you to get back, I'll even try an' stay up for you, okay?"
Defeated he sighs, ""Kay, I love you," he kisses you this time, a real one, long and slow. His hand comes up to find the pulse point on your neck as his tongue slides against yours.
You catch on quickly, grabbing his shoulders and giving a light shove, "I love you and you know how much I enjoy your kisses, but go have fun with your friends, my lips'll be here when you get back home."
Standing up from where he had thrown himself just moments ago, mumbling, "Fine, fine, I'll fuck off," he throws a wink and a kiss at you as he walks from your shared room, you hear his keys jangle as he grabs them from the hook, followed by a third goodbye, and the door being pulled shut behind him.
You stay exactly how he left you for a while longer, at least until the washer beeps when you get up to swap the laundry around, you find Poppy sat by the door staring at you with her tail wagging a hundred miles per hour.
The idea of a walk this late without George has you wishing you had let him stay, "Sad world we live in, Pop, wishing I had a man to keep me safe from the bloody dark," you let out a breathy giggle to yourself at your words as you shove one of his hoodies over your head and slide your slippers on.
The door slams heavily behind you as you trudge down the stairs, the cool air nipping at your once-warm cheeks wind rash was the least of your worries as you make your way down the street lamp-lit sidewalk, every sense heightening. When Poppy stops to sniff one you fish your phone out of your pocket, tapping through your friend's Instagram stories.
When you get to Chris' you notice George in the background of a video of him and Arthur. Not just George though, him and a girl, he's leaned against the bar on his elbow, smiling at something shes said. It's friendly, and probably a fan, but why has she been touching his arm for what feels like ages? The video felt like it was nearly three hours long.
Screenshotting, you zoom in on the two, not even noticing the scowl that's situated on your face. You feel a pit in your stomach and it burns a hole straight through you, you're not usually the jealous type, but you're never left home either. Fans know you exist and they've slowed down the whole throwing themselves at him thing quite a bit, George never establishes boundaries, assuming they know where the line is.
Deciding you've seen enough of that, you tap through to the next slide, this time it's the four of them standing together, arms over each other's shoulders: Arthur, Chris, George, then the girl you swear you've never seen in your life. Both posts have been up for just under ten minutes.
That was enough social media for the evening, you internally establish on your walk home, turning your phone off just in time for it to buzz from what you assume is a text that you don't even bother glancing at.
Once you've made it back inside, you no longer feel like doing any more laundry, instead you kick off your shoes, hang your jacket up by the door, snuggle up in the warm duvet, and press play on your show. Before you know it you have watched two hours' worth of Love Island and fallen asleep, you don't even notice when the boys come fumbling back into the flat.
That is until George's cold hands meet your cheek, you push him away mumbling about him fucking off, and turn away from him. He snorts and apologizes with his hands up in surrender he knows you can't see, "Better change your clothes and brush your teeth, no outside clothes on my clean sheets," and he does just that before returning from the ensuite, scooting into bed behind you, pulling you into him.
You do your best not to let him cuddle up to you, letting your jealousy overpower how much you'd missed his presence alone, "Missed you lots, sweetheart, Chippo was asking 'bout you." You hum, not bothering with a verbal reply and he quickly picks up on how abnormally stiff you are against him.
"Something wrong," ignorance is bliss and sometimes your boyfriend is exactly that, but you can't blame him for being so confused this time. In his mind, he wasn't even home to piss you off so he's stuck raking through his mind in search of one thing, anything relatively bad he's done through your whole relationship
You shrug, finally speaking up, "No, jus' saw Chris' story, jealousy's a disease and mine chronic," he can hear the pout in your voice, doing his best to stifle a giggle, and failing as your feel rattle through his chest, "Nothing to be jealous of, darlin', she only knew me from your tiktok," he snorts as his fingers draw shapes on your back beneath your shirt.
And now you feel silly for ever thinking something strange was happening, this was exactly why you hardly ever got jealous, it was always something like that or "She just wanted me to get a picture of her with Arthur."
There was never a time where he made you feel as if you shouldn't be secure in your relationship, but when you're left alone your mind does such stupid things, "Dont feel silly, any time anyone comes up to you, I feel the same way, just bite my tongue, 'cause I don't want you to think I don't trust you."
"And before you say it, I know you trust me, if you didn't we wouldn't have me it this far," he presses a kiss to your forehead, your cheek, your nose, and finally your lips. He smiles against your mouth, and when he speaks again his toothpaste-y breath fans over your face, "Now g'night, beautiful, I love you more than you know."
All of a sudden you're a puddle in his arms, "Goodnight, I love you... so much," this time he can hear the smile in your voice at the sound of it he can't fight one of his own.
#george clarke#george clarkey#george clarke x reader#george clarkey x reader#george clarke fics#george clarke fluff#georgle clarke x you#george clarke imagine
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Umm... longest yap ever. Also sorry for the amount of times I talk about Majestic Repertory.
1. Majestic Repertory Theatre's production of RTC (Nevada).
2. My favorite characters are Misha, Ricky, and Constance. I also love Talia a lot, I just don't like that we know basically nothing about her.
3. I really love Jane Doe, but she'd probably be my least favorite. The concept of her character is really fascinating and I love the eeriness, and I get that it's the point no one knows anything about her, but it's easier to favor a character if I actually know what they are like and more about them.
4. My favorite songs are either Talia or Sugar Cloud. Not just because they're my favorite characters solos, but because of how gorgeous they are. Talia is a heartbreaking song and I love how much Mischa is pining for Talia. Sugar Cloud is such a sweet song and it simultaneously makes me cry because of how happy it makes me and how sad it makes me.
5. My least favorite song is Every Story's Got a Lesson. It's catchy, but doesn't really live up to the other songs.
6. From favorite to least favorite, this is my ranking of the openers,
Tragic Fact from 2013 Canadian Tour. The vocals are so ominous to me and I love how it's actually mostly accurate to what happened to Uranium City and how it essentially fell.
Waiting For The Drop from 2018 Seattle run. It is such a catchy and fun song and I specifically love the "round and round" when it sounds like it's echoing, and the end when their bodies are tossing around and it sounds like they're screaming and then just stop and become calm.
U-R-A-N-I-U-M from the 2015 transition from Canada to America. The overlapping vocals that sound a little bit like screaming, Jane's high note that normally lasts a long time in the Fall Fair Suite's just falling and never lasting, Rielle's voice in specific, it's just all so good.
Fall Fair Suite from 2016 NYC Off-Broadway. In specific, the part that went viral on TikTok is my favorite. Especially Gus Halper's voice in that specific part. It's just also very fun.
Fall Fair Suite from 2015 Chicago. Again, it's very fun and funky. LOVE Misha beatboxing randomly.
The Uranium Suite from 2019 Atlanta + all the productions afterwards. Listen, it's a very good song and I love the overlapping, but it is a little bland compared to the others and it's also just a watered down version of Tragic Fact.
7. My favorite cut song is probably Play to Win. It's a horrible song lyrically in a moral aspect and the lyrics are disgusting, but it is very unfortunately catchy.
8. Corey is definitely my favorite cut character. He's just such a silly and fun guy. His rap is a little disturbing in some parts but I fw it.
9. Probably the least popular opinion I have is that ships aren't necessary. I'm saying this as a multishipper and as someone who loves rare pairs, while ships are very fun, they aren't necessary to the plot and I would love the show just as much if there was absolutely nothing romantic or something that could be seen as romantic in it. Emily Rohm has also spoken on that, that she's open to no ships and she's also open to most ships and I agree.
10. I have a lot of favorite ships... I basically like every single non problematic ship in the show, but my top three are probably Pitchperfect (Misha and Ocean), Starrypoets (Ricky and Noel), and Soundcloud (Misha and Constance).
Pitchperfect because I unfortunately love the good girl x bad boy trope. I also love the development they go through from Ocean blatantly being a bad person to Misha, to her slowly warming up to him and them interacting more and learning to tolerate each other, to them fully being friends (or more).
Starrypoets because how similar yet different they are, and how they could potentially bond over that. Noel is nihilistic and sees the beauty in death, leaving life behind while Ricky is existentialist and sees the beauty in life and humanity, I could see them talking about it together and maybe debating. I also like that they both are someone else in their dreams and daydream a lot, they could also potentially talk about that together. I especially love to imagine Ricky adding a cat into the Zolar universe but it's Monique as a cat, or Noel creating a client that goes to Monique, but it's just Space Age Bachelor Man prior to becoming a cat and living on Zolar himself. In the Majestic Repertory Theatre production, they also interact a lot more and are sort of a friend group with Constance.
Soundcloud because of the thought of Misha sort of being a protector for Constance and being her biggest supporter. Constance is insecure while Misha is confident, and I like to imagine Misha helping her to build confidence. During TSIA, Constance is also a main part and I personally like to think about how it meant she could've been a feature on some of his raps.
11. Besides the obvious ones (Noel x any girl, Ricky x Ocean, etc.) I personally don't like Perfectdolls. I'm not a huge fan of Jane Doe ships in general, I like some but I don't like Perfectdolls because of how mean and distant Ocean was up until the birthday scene and as soon as she started talking nicely about Jane Doe, she switched the topic back to herself and then ended up sending Jane back. While it is the perfect setup for a forbidden love, which I like, I hate how it's set up in this specific ship.
12. Ray Winters (Majestic Rep) , Emily Rohm (American Tour) , Alex Wyse (2016 NYC), Gus Halper (2016 NYC), Ella Culbreath (Stone Productions), the entire cast of Majestic Rep in general, Lillian Castillo (American Tour), Rielle Braid (Canadian Tour).
13. I don't really have a specific answer for this one, but Majestic Rep and Station Theatre have really good representations for almost every ship. There's also another theatre that does really good with basically every Jane Doe ship, which like I said, I don't really like normally but this theatre does really well to portray them. I don't remember the theatre name. ☹️
14. Umm... again, the way every character in the Majestic Rep production is portrayed scratches my brain so well. I also really like how Karnak is portrayed by Karl Hamilton (American Tour).
15. Is this is a safe place to say that my favorite versions of every song is the Majestic Rep production. I feel annoying for talking about it so much but the brain rot is real.
16. The best set is the one from California State University, Stanislaus. The ginormous clown with a broken rollercoaster track coming out its mouth is actually the coolest thing ever, and I love how cramped and cluttered it looks, especially because they are in a warehouse so obviously it would be pretty cluttered. My favorite costume designs are the ones from Arkansas University because I love the light pink. And unfortunately, McCarter Theatre also has really good costume designs, especially in Talia even though I hate that production.
17. Honestly, any performance of Talia is my favorite vocal wise. Also, Stone Productions' version of the Ballad of Jane Doe, 2016 NYC's Space Age Bachelor Man, Majestic Rep's Sugar Cloud, also any song sung by Rielle Braid or Sarah Jane Peltzer.
18. Ocean being a hypochondriac. Noel being a maladaptive daydreamer. Misha religiously listening to Eminem. Talia doing photography and sending the pictures to Misha. Ricky also developing maladaptive daydreaming. Jane Doe having a weird arsenal of odd facts adding onto the one about lions. Constance watching animated kids shows still.
19. I personally really like the canvas theory, which is Jane Doe being a canvas everyone else gets to project onto, especially in Talia. How in the American Tours, she's the one in front for the choreography and is the main one being projected onto, Misha could be using the lack of identity there for a canvas for Talia. As well as the Savannah scene too. I also really like the theory that the cyclone malfunctioning was mainly on purpose. One of my friends had told me that their theory was that because of how many times Jane Doe refers to fathers and killing children (her catchphrase and "time eats all his children in the end" during TBOJD) that the cyclone malfunctioning had something to do with Penny Lamb's father. At first, I didn't really like that theory but then I watched Emily Rohm's video about how the cyclone malfunction was caused in her personal opinion, and I agree with it fully now. Basically it's Penny Lamb's father messing with it planning on scaring her but not realizing that he messed with it so badly that it fully derailed the thing and killed everyone.
20. Umm... my fanfic that I'm writing! I don't really read many fanfics, so idk.
21. mercywashere, winnie.macjinnie, silly.fran7, severedh3ad, zolarianstarcluster, idk-tbh-idk, NEWDARLINGZ, splish_splash_im_trash, 4pplec0re
22. Yes! I have an OC named Liz (cause I like my name) and she is the weirdest girl in town. She's kind of just a very peculiar girl who prefers to keep to herself unless she's talked to first. The type of girl to skip around in a forest alone. The type of girl who was really fascinated with bugs growing up while all the other children were scared. The type of girl who dressed absurdly unlike everyone else and is made fun of for it. The type of girl to know a gross amount of facts about every subject. She's also a huge hypochondriac because I am too, and autistic like me, which is a huge reason she's called weird because no one really understands autism or hypochondria in a small dying town in the 2000s when everyone is closed minded and doesn't understand anyone who isn't exactly like them. Here's a list of how she interacts or feels about the other characters, and how they feel about her!
Liz and Ocean tend to avoid each other, just because Ocean believes that she's a bad influence on her and would drag her down, which causes Ocean to stereotype Liz. After the cyclone incident, they sort of started to understand each other but not really and Ocean apologizes, Liz forgives, and they move on.
Liz and Noel are pretty close friends. They don't talk all the time, but they have some pretty interesting conversations and Noel trusts her enough to show her some of his poems even though he's not proud of them, and she's incredibly supportive of each and every single one. Liz is so impressed by Noel's Lament and keeps asking him questions about Monique Gibeau throughout the rest of the competition, which is a little annoying to Noel but he's also glad that someone cares enough to ask.
Liz and Misha aren't extremely close but also sometimes talk. Misha is also kind of seen as a weirdo because of the xenophobia running rampant in Uranium and also the whole rap thing, so Misha sometimes let's her talk about her interests with minimal complaints from him and he gets into a lot of fights with other kids at school to protect her from getting bullied. He kind of sees Liz as a younger sister.
Liz and Ricky aren't close in life, but after the cyclone, they become really close friends. When they were alive, they always felt a little bad for each other because of how ignorant everyone was to each of them but they never interacted, but once Liz found out that Ricky was also a gigantic nerd and weirdo like her, she sort of clung to him and he enjoyed having a friend who could relate to him to a certain extent. I also might make them a ship because OC x canon is life and life is OC x canon.
Liz and Jane Doe are... alright with each other. They're both very peculiar and have silent interactions, but rarely actually talk to each other. And they're both very fascinated by each other, because girls with actual human heads are out of the ordinary for Jane Doe and girls with porcelain doll heads are out of the ordinary for Liz.
Liz and Constance also don't interact much, mainly just small waves in the hallway during passing or small talk about choir performances. After the cyclone though, they become a little closer and Liz stands up for Constance a few times and then they have a giant hug after Sugar Cloud.
Liz and the Lambs are extremely close in life because of how all three of them are outcasts and they basically do everything together. It also makes Liz and Penny's deaths so much sadder because they're both leaving behind Ezra and Liz can't identify her own best friend in death, and barely interacts with her because obviously, she doesn't realize that Jane Doe is actually Penny.
23. I would likely be called the quietest person in town, or the quietest girl in town. For catchphrase, I'm not really sure.
24. My favorite dialogue is the entire Every Story's Got a Lesson scene, but specifically from the 2016 production.
25. I really want to see an actual Ukrainian play Misha one day, instead of having to put on an accent and all that. I also want to see maybe a production use very maximalist set of costumes? It sounds really cool.
26. Um... Majestic Repertory Theatre, Station Theatre, Roxy's Downtown Theatre, Hayes Theatre Co., Showstopper Productions, Stone Productions, and a lot more but I forgot the names.
27. 2016 Off-Broadway, as well as the audios for all three official American tour productions, obviously Majestic Rep, Chance Theatre, Station Theatre, Stone Productions, Roxy's Downtown Theatre, half of the Hayes Theatre Co., and unfortunately the McCarter Theatre. I've also seen it live at a high school I live close to.
28. Like I said, I've seen it live at a local high school. It was so good and I also had a huge crush on the actor for Misha for the longest time.
29. Likely Jane Doe, I have bad memory so I wouldn't be able to remember all my lines if I had to play one of the other characters where Jane Doe has very few lines. I also worked at a haunted house where I had to act really creepy when I was younger so I think I got that down, I also can hit the notes of TBOJD really well and I like to think I sound good. I also have a very stiff body and am likely struggling with a health issue regarding my muscles and how I can move my body, and Jane Doe moves stiffly in lots of productions so that gives me an excuse for being stiff.
30. My favorite part about the show itself is how myself and everyone else can connect to the characters in some way and how it can genuinely help people deal with grief and mourning. I also really like how all the characters connect and that even if two characters don't interact much, they still have a possibility of getting along very well if they were to interact more and how that also makes the fandom think about the what if's about all the potential friendships and relationships that the characters could be put in. My favorite part of the fandom is how easy it is to connect to each other, or at least in my case.
Sorry for literally the longest yap EVER. I don't get to talk about this much and especially in depth. ☹️☹️☹️
Ride The Cyclone Ask Game!!!
Just some fun little questions!! Please do rant as much as you want with any and all of your answers :D
Favourite production?
Favourite character?
Least favourite character?
Favourite song?
Least favourite song?
How would you rank the opening songs?
Favourite cut song?
Favourite cut character?
Unpopular opinion? Or if you don't have any, a popular opinion you agree with?
Favourite ship?
Least favourite ship/ship that you don't understand the hype for?
Favourite RTC actor(s)?
Favourite representation of [insert ship]?
Favourite interpretation of [insert character]?
Favourite take on [insert song]?
Favourite costumes/set design?
Favourite vocal performance?
What are your headcanons for [insert character]?
Do you have any theories?
Favourite RTC fanfic/fic author/fic recs in general?
Favourite RTC fanart/fanartist/any fanart you love?
Do you have any OCs? If so what are they like?
What would your catchphrase be and/or what 'The ___ in Town' would you be called?
Favourite line of dialogue?
Something you haven't seen in a production that you want to?
Any underrated productions you love?
How many productions have you watched? Which ones?
Have you ever been to see a RTC production?
If you were in a production of RTC, who would you play?
Overall favourite part of RTC and/or the fandom?
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Primarch + Daughters (2)
Finally finished the damn part two. Been kinda busy here and there with my new job but lo and behold, the one yall asked for. Soon enough, yall find out why it took me a while writing this one for the two main guys I had to add here.
Part 1 - Part 2
Konrad Curze
A’right, I’ll open this one with the fact we all know that this man shouldn’t even be legally allowed to have children. I’m gonna be real for a hot second and admit that I stared at the screen for HOURS not knowing what to write because any poor little girl that is born from this guy will have the dubious privilege of being the most sheltered and hidden secret the Primarch ever kept close. With all those visions of death and inevitable doom mixed with the sudden power rush that fatherhood gave him, it left in its wake a perfect storm for this lunatic to develop a paranoid and obsessive need (NEED) to keep his daughter safe; something hard to achieve when he already knows the essence of his Legion. His fatalistic nature regarding his own future would suddenly clash violently with the Primarch’s new found protective stance concerning his child. It's almost sad to consider that this poor man GENUINELY wished to avoid becoming the monster his visions showed, but knowing that he’ll be balancing in the thin line of one day hurting his precious girl (or worse than that) it'll put him in the hard decision of having to let go of her eventually. He is no Perturabo, for that matter. In the rare and far away moments of lucidity, I can see Konrad choosing to protect the innocence and life of his child by trusting in the last person ANYONE might expect the Night Hunter would seek help: Vulkan. Honestly this is just plain sad, man.
Sanguinius
This is it! The golden boy, yall! We all know the kind of person Sanguinius is, but add a precious little daughter in the equation and all you get is the perfect example of textbook girl dad. No matter how busy this man is, somehow he’ll squish some playtime with his baby and enjoy every bit of it. Seriously, this guy acting like a dedicated father is worth being in a stockphoto image. His baby girl asks him to play tea party? Some astartes will find their Primarch hunched over, awkwardly holding a comically small cup between his thumb and index while his precious princess pretends to pour more tea for herself. The daughter of Sanguinius doesn't go a single day without knowing that her papa loves her a lot and when the man isn’t around, the Blood Angels Legion are close to keep her company to the point that even she calls them ‘big brothers’. No one is safe when she wants to play dress-up. The single problem I see with Sanguinius when raising his little girl is that he sins of being completely oblivious to the more mortal side of his daughter’s needs. He easily gets so wrapped up in his role of The Perfect Angel that he doesn’t realize his tiny princess has boundaries that are being constantly crossed, but since she feels the need to prove that she can be like her father, endures all those problems and refuses to seek help about anything. It becomes a kind of toxic mix considering how much Sanguinius is loved and adored by others, to the point that his daughter becomes like a coveted gem too by relation, making her need to prove her own ‘perfection’ an unconscious action the older she grows. I’m not even gonna touch with a ten feet pole the “fun fact” called the Red Thirst on this one because, let's be fair, that would require for me to write more than 3 pages with ONLY Sanguinius and his daughter in the spotlight and that’s only assuming his baby girl didn’t inherit it. I specialized in visual arts and marketing, not psychology jfc.
Ferrus Manus
It took me a while but after some investigating and more reading I can safely put this man in between the Papa-tier and ‘tough love’ guys. His practical mentality and belief of the strongest are (oddly enough) healthily separated from his parenting skills. This is one of the few Primarch that can see their daughter as an individual of their own and makes sure to be as present as possible in her life but the loyalty of this man to the Emperor is his own flaw. Not in the case that he’ll choose the Imperium before his little girl, but because it’ll put him in the dreading and guilty notion that he’ll always prioritize his daughter despite his oath to serve for the Great Crusade. Most of his brothers (except maybe Jaghatai and Konrad) just assume or don’t even think about the long term future of their daughters or simply presume that they will become a great part of the Imperium’s well oiled structure. Not exactly their fault since they never grew up with anything resembling normal. On the brighter and wholesome side (whiplash change!), this is a man who finds handmade gifts more meaningful and always makes sure to explain the reason behind them mostly out of the enjoyment of watching his little princess look so amazed at her papa’s skills. More often than not, Ferrus’ belief of the strongest would falter a little as he perceives the true fragile nature of his daughter and, even if she share the resilient blood of a Primarch, that isn’t enough to convince him that she isn’t vulnerable but instead of letting the worry fester, he’ll try to teach the girl the art of fighting. That’s where the ‘tough love’ kind of guy I mentioned comes out to light. He will not spare kind words during those moments of teaching, as he wishes for his princess to prevail any difficulty but he’ll make sure to always end any sort of training with “I love you so much that the idea of one day not being there to protect you, pains me beyond any form” to make sure that his harsh actions have a reason behind. Honestly, it's the kind of father-daughter relationship that possesses so many shades that makes its own drama novel. Good thing that uncle Fulgrim is always there to smooth the hard edges that may come in the future and makes up for the lack of spoiling the little girl deserves. Ferrus is not amused by it. Forgot to mention that the Primarch will be even more motivated to take off the metal of his hands, for he has yet to truly feel the warm and soft flesh of his baby’s hand. It's the one feeling he keeps missing and craves so much.
Angron
Oh man, another of the hard ones. Okay, if I managed with Konrad, I can tackle this bitch too. You need to comprehend that we are talking about a guy that has been so intimate with the meaning of pain that it's amazing he’ll be capable of ranging through other emotions that don’t involve fury into that combo too. That being said, this whole shitshow of being the father of a young girl can only be described as sad AND tragic. First off, Angron’s daughter wouldn’t even be allowed to leave her chambers at The Conqueror for obvious safety reasons and having her stay on Terra can’t be an option too, as Angron would rather be death than leave in a silver plate this one single pittance of good he helped to create under the light of the Emperor. That being said, any little girl born from Angron would be terribly isolated and one can’t even blame the Primarch for that as he, despite his disposition, finds his daughter as a genuine reflection of what he could never ever dream to have or be. That sometimes results in him feeling short and spontaneous moments of anger from the impotence of not being able to be close to his daughter, let alone console her with anything resembling compassion. This is a man that is horribly aware that he’s away from one sharp stab of the Nails to his brain to end up killing his little girl in one single swat of his hand. The moments of anything resembling fatherly love are few and very tense, for Angron has to constantly be focused on not letting the pain control his actions and that always looks as if he’s dismissing his child’s love language or actions. What else can I say that most people don’t know already? This is just a sad story waiting to end in tragedy and had it not been for how Sanguinius ended during the heresy, I can see The Great Angel taking Angron’s daughter under his care as the only consolation and promise to his corrupted brother before his demise. After becoming a Daemon Prince, Angron’s only genuine and foggy memory of his little girl is her crying while calling him with heavy despair. Goddamn I almost tear up with this one.
Roboute Guilliman
Look at my big nerd! One of the few guys that actually is humble enough to feel more human than any of his brothers… sometimes. I gotta say it, Roboute has the vibe of what happens when someone incredibly autistic suddenly becomes a parent; expect lots of books to try and be prepared for what entails to take care of a mortal baby. He’ll have a wholeass strict routine of activities and diets that you AND the baby must follow to ensure both of your health along with “fun facts” regarding a toddler’s development that half of the time lack the keyword ‘fun’ in there. Honestly, Euten will be a BLESSING sent, for she’ll be the one railing back the most extreme attempts of her adoptive son to try and raise his little princess like she was just another task of paperwork. Over all his quirks, the Primarch of the Ultramarines is absolutely trying his hardest to be a good father just as the one that raised him, but this is a man that half of the time ends up clumsily trying to spend time with his little girl only for it to backfire as he simply doesn’t understand how to entertain his daughter. Good thing the child will simply be happy to spend time with her papa despite his weird personality. More often than not, some of the astartes will see the young lady at her father’s chambers in a little booster chair beside him, doodling on some papers to pretend that she’s a big girl helping her papa with his very important job. It's probably the most adorable sight anyone can ever get the chance to see. Just like most of his brothers, Roboute isn’t that good at expressing his love towards his daughter with words, so he simply let his little princess be on his lap and hug her as if it will be the last time.
Mortarion
I’ve written enough of this man being a father that you all can get a wild idea of how he will be when confronted with parenthood. Even if he believes himself to be undeserving of anything resembling happiness thanks to his perception of being nothing but a tool of the Emperor, this guy will only need to see his precious little flower and feel like everything in the world can be forgotten, including his ever festering negative emotions. His daughter is the single light of love that he selfilish believes is his right after such torturous upbringing although that mentality rarely affects his princess, as he simply shows nothing but care and tenderness towards her. He may be a nervous trainwreck, fully aware that his Legion and himself aren’t exactly safe-hazardous, but that never has stopped him from doing his utmost best to protect the little girl from anything that may hurt her. Like most of his traitorous brothers, Mortarion would not hesitate to bring entire worlds into devastation if it meant that his family can be safe, even if that’ll end up making a terrible gap to grow between him and those he loves. It's quite terrible and sad to know that, unlike Fulgrim or Angron, Mortarion was the closest to his daughter and showered her with as much genuine love as he could in an attempt to avoid being anything like his supposed father (adopted or creator equally), so when he turned into a Daemon Prince, the festering and rotting resentment that consumes him sometimes simmers down when he remembers the laugh of joy his little princess often released when he would carry her up in his arms. Oh yes, some good ol’ gut-wrenching emotional damage, teehee.
I will not apologize for being a mean bitch by writing sad shit. XOXO
#warhammer 40k#warhammer 40000#wh40k#konrad curze#sanguinius#ferrus manus#angron#roboute guilliman#mortarion#itty bitty implied primarch x reader#gotta squint really hard#fatherhood#primarchs as girl dads#primarch#implied child negligence
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second chance romance 12. "every song reminds me of you."
woozi gets writers block after his breakup with y/n and realizes how much color and life had when they were still together. he would do anything to get back together 🥺
why does this already sound so heartwrenching :(( thank you for requesting this, lovely!! 🤍
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist! // jihoon's m.list
second chance prompt #12: "every song reminds me of you."
jihoon had spent weeks staring at his keyboard, fingers hovering but never pressing. the notes he usually heard in his mind came in fragments—disconnected and hollow. every song he tried to write felt incomplete, as if missing the heart it used to have. as if missing you.
he sat in his studio late at night, frustration burning in his chest. “why can’t i just—” his voice cracked, and he slammed his hand against the desk.
the memory of your laugh, your voice humming along with his music, filled his mind. he swallowed hard. you had been his muse without him realizing.
“why didn’t i fight for you?” he muttered under his breath.
a knock at his studio door startled him.
“you’re still here,” seungcheol said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.
“don’t start,” jihoon warned, leaning back in his chair.
“i wasn’t going to. i was just wondering how long you were planning to torture yourself.”
jihoon glared at him, but seungcheol didn’t flinch.
“you should talk to her,” seungcheol continued, arms crossed. “you’ve been miserable since the breakup, and it’s obvious she’s the reason you can’t write.”
“it’s not that simple,” jihoon snapped. “i hurt her, cheol. you don’t just come back from that.”
“it doesnt have to be this hard either. you don’t know unless you try. you always overthink, but this—this is different. just go. tell her how you feel.”
“and if she doesn’t want to see me?”
“then at least you’ll know you tried.”
jihoon clenched his jaw, his heart pounding as he weighed the possibility of facing you again. seungcheol’s words echoed in his mind long after his friend left, and eventually, he found himself standing outside your door.
the door creaked open, and your face appeared in the gap, your expression soft but full of unspoken emotion.
“hoonie jihoon?” you said his name like you couldn’t believe it, like you thought you might be dreaming.
his breath caught. “hi.” his voice was barely audible. “i… i know it’s late. i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to see me, but—” he faltered, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice quiet, tinged with sadness.
“i don’t know how to say this,” he admitted, looking down at his feet. “but i couldn’t stay away anymore. i needed to see you.”
your lips parted, your eyes scanning his face for answers. “jihoon… it’s been months—”
“i can’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice breaking. “every song reminds me of you. every melody, every lyric… it’s all you.”
your lips trembled, tears forming in your eyes as you tried to keep your composure. “you can’t just show up like this after all this time. do you know how hard it’s been for me?”
“i know,” he said quickly, his own voice thick with emotion. “i know I don’t deserve another chance. i know i hurt you more than i can ever apologize for. but i’m a mess without you. i can’t write. i can’t think. everything in my life feels empty because you’re not there.”
you looked away, tears slipping down your cheeks. “why did you leave me, jihoon? you didn’t even fight for us.”
“i was scared,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “of how much you meant to me. of how much losing you would hurt. but i didn’t realize that losing you anyway would destroy me.”
you let out a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you wiped your face. “i don’t know if i can trust you again. you broke my heart.”
“i know,” he whispered, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance. “but i’ll spend the rest of my life fix it if you let me. i’ll prove to you every single day how much you mean to me. just… give me a chance.”
you stared at him, his words sinking in, the raw desperation in his voice breaking down the walls you had built around your heart. he took a deep breath, his eyes glistening. “i don’t want to live without you anymore.
your tears fell freely now, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. after a long moment, you nodded, the smallest movement, but it was enough.
jihoon’s shoulders sagged in relief, his eyes filling with tears. “thank you,” he whispered.
you stepped back to let him in, and as he crossed the threshold, he hesitated.
“i mean it,” he said, his voice trembling but steady. “i’ll spend every day showing you how much i love you. i won’t mess this up again.”
as you closed the door behind him, the weight of the past began to lift. it wouldn’t be easy, but in that moment, with jihoon standing in your home again, you felt the first flicker of hope.
and for jihoon, the music in his heart finally began to return.
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#svt#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#seventeen x reader#fanfic#svt angst#daisymbin: reqs#seventeen angst#angst seventeen#woozi angst#woozi fluff#woozi imagaines#woozi seventeen#seventeen woozi#woozi fanfic#jihoon x reader#jihoon seventeen#seventeen jihoon#jihoon fluff#jihoon angst#jihoon x readerr#jihoon x you#woozi x reader#woozi x you#woozi#jihoon#lee jihoon
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Here's a small Sonic headcannon list (with Sonadow highlighted in):
Amy: "Oh, it takes a lot for him to cry, but once Sonic starts crying, it's hard for him to stop crying. Yeah, he doesn't do it on purpose, but he bottles up so much inside him. You can always feel it, and it's rare for him to share..." (giving advice to Shadow)
It'd hard for Sonic to cry in front of people/fans/folks too. He will hide his face, run away, bury his face away, he'll do ANYTHING and everything to not be seen. To him, he internalized it so much as an issue/he has high standards for himself that he doesn't even realize. He doesn't want the folks or fans in his life to see him sad. He's always about having a good time, laughing/joking/smirking, and just being a happy guy being the best he can be.
Sonic is very mute in the morning, at least for a few hours (and this really catches Amy and Shadow off guard) ...
Shadow: "you'd think he's loud, hyper, obnoxious, or annoying in the morning, but he's quite calm, gentle, and kind" (he's talking/gossiping to Amy)
The morning is really Sonic's favorite time of day (his chest is the sun after all) and while Sonic is mute he still communicates through sign language. Overall, Sonic is a morning person and is also not a morning person.
Sonic has knowledge (and still learns/but has procrastinated with it) about robotics and machinery. And only when he took Tails under his wing as his big bro is where Tails found his fascination about robotics and machinery too. That's where Tails learned from Sonic about all the cool knowledge, tricks and skills. Every so often Sonic will gladly help test run any of Tails inventions. Sonic believes in him very much.
In a lot of the backgrounds, there's Sonic petting the closest wild life/kitten/pup he sees. He cares a lot about the critters around him, and more times than not when he's on a mission/depending on the levels of danger or urgency the mission is, he will and does get distracted by all the animals around him.
Sonic loves learning, and he has a lot of random facts and knowledge hidden inside his mind. Like when he spends time with Rouge, there was this one time where Sonic saw a few of her gems that she collected (stole) and he lists all the important facts about the gem, the rarity, the design, the history. Just for him to stop half way through, and then going back to what he was doing.
Shadow is the bigger spoon while cuddling. He needs to be able to defend against any dangers even when he's asleep/cuddling. He's always on edge/and when danger is eminent, he's hyper aware/focused/on alert. Like a cat at night. And only when he can relax or when he's not busy/working/fighting, he loves physical affection (not in public though, never in public), he just kind of sucks at giving physical affection back. But, he tries. His form of love that he gives to others is words of affirmation, it's gestures/like chores or tasks he does, and he gives meaningful gifts.
Shadow overall is a great listener, Sonic is a great yapper.
Sonic is a great cook, he has mad cooking skills, and no one knows because he prefers street vendors/homemade/someone else's cooking he supports and loves/enjoys food that he doesn't have make. But Ohhh but he SUCKS at baking. He was determined to cook better food for Tails while they were growing up.
Shadow is also pretty great at making food too. He'd do his best to make snacks/meals with Maria. With whatever food the ARK had, he'd do his best to make the best dishes with the bare minimum. So during the holidays Shadow would do his best to make food for his family too. And it's hard to say which is better at making food between Shadow and Sonic. Shadow does know how to bake though, so there's that, but Sonic really tries to bake. Baking hates him.
There's probably more headcannons in me head somewhere but, enjoy, byeeeee
#headcannons#shadow#shadow the hedgehog#sonic#sonic the hedgehog#sth fandom#sth#tails#rouge#writing#idk what other tags to add#sonic x shadow#sonadow#AMY#amy rose
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save me, butch wolverine
counterpart to my designs for fem-deadpool. logan gets silly crayon doodles too because it’s only fair.
(headcanons under the cut)
lesbian wolverine brain rot. so:
- her first name is jane. do not call her it under any circumstances or she will bite u. has been called logan for so long that she can’t remember who started it or why.
- per my version of deadpool’s variants all being women besides one dudepool, logan’s variants are also various flavours of lesbian scattered across the multiverse. apart from cavillrine. he’s still cavallrine.
- honestly i could rant for about six and a half years about the practical implications of logan (2017) with this dyke but it makes me feel too much and as such i will restrain myself. but it’s all v sad and both old lady logan and worst wolverine logan love laura so gd much and are trying very very hard to be good moms even if it doesn’t come naturally.
- so gay she broke the kinsey scale. super graphic ultra dagger butch.
- braless. all the time. yes the scene with the time ripper happens exactly as it played out in the movie. wade is incredibly normal about this.
- basically a walking rainforest of body hair. doesn’t shave, has never bothered to try. largely a result of the more animalistic traits of her mutation.
- smokes a *lot* because she has a v heightened sense of smell and it helps to cover up the stinkiness of every trash can and public bathroom in a 100ft radius. but also she just likes it. (im sure this is a p popular headcanon, im adopting it bc i love it)
- her kitty ear cowlicks are *kind of* natural. styles her hair around them bc they will not sit flat otherwise. kind of a preening slut about her hair, incredibly laissez-faire about every other aspect of her appearance. she has an undercut too because i have no self control.
not including fic bits this time around bc about 90% of her dialogue thus far is telling wade to shut up, fuck off, or some variation thereof. might post a teaser snippet if enough people want to see it though 👀
#deadpool and wolverine#butch wolverine#logan wolverine#x men#x men fanart#wolverine fanart#rule 63#poolverine#deadclaws#lesbian wolverine#digital illustration#marvel fanart#genderswap
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for those who are looking which of these games have yandere endings, allow me to kindly add them in a read more :D
Cupid Parasite: Gill Lovecraft
The most consistent yandere-vibes from Lock's recommendations. Gill's I would say leans so much on pathetic sad dog yandere and irl stalker that the otome game community is very divided on him (and a majority of us are yandere/trash husbando fans lol).
You'll spend most of his routes looking at how much he's a loser (/aff) who simps for his former roommate. I mean, he's trying to get over you but the heavens might quite literally be playing with him— cause how can he move on when you're his matchmaker???????
Cupid Parasite is so silly and so fun, highly recommend for those who love romcoms.
Piofiore: Nicola (Bad End)
Note: don't search his name on google images cause one of the first things you'll see is his CG for the bad end. Do not spool yourself lol.
Oooh how I love this man. Him and Dante are my faves [and Roberto. Lord. I love Roberto so much why isn't he a love interest?!?!?]
I won't spoil much, but his bad ending is 🥰. Plus Piofiore is such a good game anyways, it's worth trying out. If you like mafia men that are trash and would definitely kill you in other routes (sometimes their own too aHEM MISTER CHINESE KEBAB)— this game is for you.
Olympia Soiree: Kuroba (Bad End)
Ngl I remember the yandere end for this one being relatively short, but Kuroba along with Byakuya are my faves so I didn't really mind. If you like your fics with some sort of "chosen one" flair to it, OS is for you <3.
Don't get it twisted though, the game makes it a point to show time and time again how much their color system destroys the people [definitely feels like a metaphor for racism-]
Even if Tempest: Crius Castlerock (Bad End)
TW: childhood abuse/neglect, cannibalism, straight up every route has murder since this is literally a Phoenix Wright fantasy otome game, blood, unending angst you can't escape from if you want to see a single good ending, etc. For the amount of girlbossing and (justifyable?) crimes the heroine had done [and lord she's such a pretty androgynous girlie], the game is very refreshing.
LOOK AT MY BABIIIIESSS 😭😭😭😭😭😭
If you love suffering, I highly recommend this game because the plot is amazing. It does not hold back as much. It's not like Black Wolves Saga's level of "dead dove: do not eat" but man will it surprise you.
Crius definitely feels overprotective even in routes outside his. As an older brother figure-esque, he has this tendency to help you out without question [this fact will hurt you later.] His bad end? I'm a simp. And I like the hurt it gives. 10/10. Also him in the fandisk is 🤌🤌🤌🤌. Everyone in that game is so loveable.
I play a whole lot of localized switch otome games and let me just say, he's gotta be part of my top 5— and some people on that list are there for nostalgia's sake (Hi Tokimeki Memorial). Crius is great. Much love.
Bonus route: Steam Prison - Fin Euclase
I shit you not, bro is a yandere in every route but his. I am not joking. The amount of Love Interests that had fallen from his hands— meanwhile in his route he's a struggling wholesome puppy just trying to survibe the underworld. I love him but I cannot be with him simply because I'm not content with just seeing him happy, I wanna see that broken side again /silly
I forgot to mention: I wouldn't say CxM has a yandere route [I say that as someone whose faves are Okazaki and Shiraishi, who keeps being typed as yanderes when they're deranged at best /j]
... Buuut there is a bad end where it feels like Hoshino/the MC is a yandere for our poster boy :)
lock's otome game recs
i received some asks indicating an interest in a compilation of my favorite otome games, so i decided to go for it!! i've played about fourteen otome games, but of those fourteen, only these six left a lasting impression on me. there are still some that i intend to check out, so the rankings may update in the future. i'll give a very general overview of each game and how i'd score the categories that i find the most important in an otome game — the heroine, story, art, enjoyability, along with the characters i liked the most.
number 6 - piofiore fated memories.
heroine: 6/10 story: 6.5/10 characters: 7/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 8/10 favorite characters: dante (ishikawa kaito), nicola (kimura ryouhei) and yang (okamoto nobuhiko)
this game centers around the heroine, with the default name liliana adornato, who finds herself entangled in the politics of the region's three most prominent crime organizations. the game has an italian backdrop and iirc, takes place in the 1930s.
the overarching narrative, while it has its fair share of intrigue, isn't the game's strongest point. it's the interactions with the characters themselves that made the game feel worthwhile. each love interest has more to them than what meets the eye, so it's satisfying to watch the relationship between them and the heroine develop.
the heroine takes a passive role throughout much of the game, events sorta just happen to her. still, she has a kind disposition that makes her likable and doesn't make stupid decisions that has you wanting to fling your console across the room. her characterization changes slightly depending on the route. for instance, without getting into spoilers, she's more assertive throughout yang's route. the resulting dynamic made yang's route the most memorable, even if he's my third favorite character from the bunch.
what feels unique to this game is the effort put into the bad endings. in most visual novels, bad endings can feel like gimmicks. you make one or two wrong decisions and you're rewarded with a few paragraphs. the downward spiral of the characters in the bad endings are decently fleshed out and you can see how they arrived at this 'worst' version of themselves. they're suitably dark and it shouldn't come as a surprise that i enjoyed them because of that 😭
then there's the art. it's stunning, the details in each CG are mindboggling. the heroine gets to wear a variety of pretty outfits which is something i like to see. even in the story's weaker moments, a stunning CG would pop up that had me forgiving everything. i still glance through the gallery to this day.
number five - cupid parasite.
heroine: 9.5/10 story: 7/10 characters: 7/10 art: 9/10 enjoyability: 9/10 favorite characters: ryuki keisaiin (junya enoki) & gill lovecraft (kimura ryouhei)
iconic. showstopping. a little bit camp.
cupid parasite stars one of my favorite heroines, lynette. she works as a bridal advisor whose ambition is to ensure everyone finds their soulmate. in actuality, she's the goddess cupid, who left her post in celestia to better understand humanity and create lasting pairs. she's a delight to play as.
this game's presentation and overall aesthetic is the most distinct from any otome game i've played. aside from the presentation, the story itself is unlike any of the others on this list. when it comes to romance, i typically prefer them to be dark and mature. this game opts for a more lighthearted approach. it vacillates between being a romcom and dipping into the absurdist genre. there were times i was literally left speechless (glances at gill's route)... but it makes for an entertaining experience. the game's plenty funny as well.
personally, i enjoyed the more grounded moments when the mythological elements remained in the background. because of this, the true ending doesn't do it for me as much as they do in other games. as with anything, this is a personal preference though. i liked all of the routes and found the game handles the development of each love interest well. we're introduced to these men at their most pathetic and get to help them become a little more well-adjusted. lowering the cringe meter, if you will. it makes their growth all the most satisfying as the narrative progresses.
number four - even if tempest.
heroine: 9/10 story: 8.5/10 characters: 8/10 art: 6/10 enjoyability: 9/10 favorite characters: the heroine herself, tyril i lister (noriaki sugiyama), crius castlerock (makoto furukawa) and lucien neuschburn (kaito ishikawa)
right from the get-go, this game's premise had me hooked. it features the heroine, anastasia (<3!), who leads an incredibly tragic life. she's bestowed the ability to reverse time following each of her deaths and uses this to unravel a mess of mysteries the world's setting is tangled in.
this game is absolutely anastasia's story. without spoiling anything, i loved the approach they took with the time rewinding ability. how it's incorporated is unique to an otome game, which they take full advantage of to amplify the tragic romances. on that note, the romance itself occasionally takes a backseat to the narrative as a whole. personally, i didn't mind this in the moment, since i found the story so interesting. in retrospect, i do wish that we got more moments between the heroine and each love interest, especially in the true ending.
there are more gameplay elements here as well. you have to conduct investigations, gather evidence, and apply what you've learned during these trial segments. when i first read about this, i thought it'd be a gimmick, but i liked playing through them. it incentivizes you to pay extra close attention to the world.
while i liked the narrative as a whole, i do wish we got more worldbuilding. there are hints of political subterfuge and religious oligarchy that, while touched upon, could've been leaned into more to give the setting a distinct feeling.
number three - olympia soiree
heroine: 8/10 story: 8/10 characters: 8/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 10/10 favorite characters: akaza (yoshitsugu matsuoka), himuka (shun horie), and yosuga (yuma uchida)
in olympia soirée, the eponymous heroine, olympia, lives in a society divided into castes based on colors. she is the last surviving member of a clan that can perform rituals to keep the sun aglow. this game is a lengthier title, i believe i clocked in around 25 ish hours (i don't use auto-play so that sheds some time). the story benefits from this, as olympia has rich worldbuilding and lore that's revealed throughout the route's progression.
we get to see the consequences of this caste system and olympia's growth as she becomes determined to realize a better future for the islands. this makes the heroine someone that you want to root for. personally, i'm a sucker for stories that center around a sheltered individual being forced to face the harsh realities of the world and maturing in their own way. this, paired with the struggles specific to this setting, make for a gripping backdrop for the character's routes. all the love interests have problems of their own that they need to address.
this is certainly a mature title, there's plenty of steamy scenes featuring gorgeous artwork. seriously... all the pretty CGs are absolute eye candy. i enjoyed the balance between the main narrative and the development of the romantic relationships, i don't remember ever feeling bored.
ironically enough, i think this is the darkest game from the bunch listed here, surpassing the game with actual horror elements. there's a whole litany of trigger warnings to be mindful of when going through the game's bad ends. they are, as the term suggests, Bad. not light or humorous in the slightest. the poor heroine goes through it. please be mindful of these more touchy subjects.
number two - 9 r.i.p
heroine: 8/10 story: 8/10 characters: 9/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 10/10 favorite characters: minami (nobuhiko okamoto), hibiki (shunichi toki), kureha (toshiki masuda), and koyo (ryota suzuki)
i was looking forward to the english localization of this game before it was even announced ... i'd been wanting an otome game with this vibe for ages. and it didn't disappoint! there are four different overarching story sections, with two characters each having their routes fall under them. this makes it difficult to give a summary since each route has a vastly different feel. some routes lean heavy into supernatural horror (such as hibiki and kureha), whereas others are just... supernatural (like with yukimaro and koharu).
the basic premise is that the main character, misa, is a high school girl burdened with her career survey. she's uncertain what she wants for the future and is being pressured by his mother to pursue a career in medicine. in one way or another, depending on the story section, she comes into contact with the afterlife and those who inhabit it.
i loved this game, i couldn't put it down. the routes that leaned heavy into horror were my favorites, which shouldn't be a surprise lol. i do feel some love interests were given preferential treatment of others, i wanted more from sena's storyline in particular, since he's voiced by one of my favorite VAs (tetsuya kakihara, the voice of scaramouche) 😭... apparently this game is receiving a fandisc, so hopefully they'll remedy that in the future.
minami stole the show for me. from what i've gauged online, he's a divisive character, you either find him grating or love him (like i do). i'm biased but i do think he has the most interesting and well-written story out of the love interests, i've played through it three times already. i just adored the dynamic between him and the heroine. he's petulant, selfish, and a bit immature, yet he goes to extremes for her as he realizes his unhinged feelings.
hibiki is a close second. the most yandere-coded of the bunch, he's soft-spoken and polite, but that exterior hides a creepy personality. like all of the characters in this game, there's a tragic element to him. i was worried about the role the heroine would play in helping him 'overcome' this, but i think they handled it well. it doesn't feel like the heroine's fixing him so much as she's helping him have a different perspective on certain events.
yeah i'm not normal about this game, i cannot recommend it enough. it would've taken the top slot if some of the routes were a bit more polished. i didn't care for yukimaro's at all, for example. routes like minami's, hibiki's, and koyo's more than make up for it though.
number one - collar x malice
heroine: 10/10 story: 10/10 characters: 10/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 10/10 favorite characters: takeru sasazuka (daisuke namikawa), kei okazaki (yuki kaji), and aiji yanagi (masakazu morita)
the holy grail. the otome games that died for our sins. this isn't just a good otome game, it's an excellent story, with a very human cast, commentary on issues like the nature of crime, and you're left wanting to solve the various mysterious as much as the heroine does. speaking of the heroine, miss hoshino ichika is my all-time favorite heroine. she's clever, resolute, compassionate, and you can't help but fall in love with her a little yourself 😭😭
i'm not sure if this makes sense, but the world feels very... full? you get this sense that ichika exists outside just interacting with the love interests. she has her career, friends, and her younger brother that act as more than passing NPCs. the writers ensured all the characters with portraits are given some level of depth. i left caring about more characters than the heroine and love interests.
each route is dedicated to working through a certain case, which keeps the story intriguing as you progress. finally, all of the little hints that have been littered throughout coalesce into the 'true' route, where questions you've had since the first chapter are given satisfactory conclusions. at the same time, you're left wondering about a few things, such as the complete philosophy of the main antagonist.
ichika's relationship with each of the love interests develops alongside the case they're investigating, which almost always have connections or parallels to the LI's past. this helped ground them in reality and flesh them out into dynamic characters. you come to care deeply about them alongside ichika. the romance feels earned and doesn't come on too fast, which some otome games suffer from.
if you like otome games and haven't played collar x malice yet, i fully recommend it!!!!!!!! it's the strongest title from what i've played so far.
#CxM my goat 👑#it's my first switch otome lol#EiT is definitely my fave of all of these ngl#I haven't played 9RIP yet since it's new but I can't wait :)
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The Emperor and His Lady
Spoilers for Gladiator 2, following the movie's plot to a certain extent.
Summary: Another victory for the Roman Empire; as the celebrated general returns home, he is greeted by the twin Emperors, Geta and Caracalla. In the shadows, he is greeted by a powerful ally who has yet to fully understand her power over her emperor.
Word Count: 1.2K
This will be a series. Part 2
No tags for now, but it will change throughout the story.
Hundreds of people cheered for him as General Acacius rode into the square. The twin emperors, Geta and Caracalla, were waiting for him at the top of the stairs. Forcing down a grimace, General Acasius walked up to meet and salute his emperors. The crowd of senators, nobles, and the emperors' concubines watch their interaction, seeing how the general kissed Geta’s hand in respect as Emperor Geta led the three men into the inner chambers. The crowd dispersed, leaving one lady waiting in the background. Lady Arabella, noble at birth, her father and uncle senators, stood behind a column. Although noble, she was technically a concubine.
Her father, ever the ambitious man, wanted more power than his current seat, so when she was 11 years old, she was offered to Emperor Geta when he was still a prince at 14, hoping that Geta would one day make her his Empress. Unfortunately, he has yet to fulfill her father's dream. However, according to what the other concubines say, she is considered one of Geta’s favorites. Geta and Caracalla tended to switch out their lovers every few years for boredom or other reasons. Years come and go, and concubine by concubine gets switched all but her; Geta has never pushed her away, even if they had years of not laying with each other. The last time she lay with the emperor was when she was 15 and he was 17. She was now 21, and he was 24, but he always kept her close.
As she waited, she hummed a distant lullaby, a sad one someone close to her would sing as they reminisced about a lost love. Her musing was broken as the chambers opened; she hid in case it was the twins, not wanting to pretend to be happy to see them, especially Caracalla. Arabella could not stand the younger of the two. Upon seeing the General, Arabella grinned, stepping out of the shadows to greet her friend.
“General, Rome thanks you for your service to her.” Arabella sweetly greeted.
Marcus Acacius smiled at the young girl, taking her smooth hand into his, and pressed a quick kiss. “Lady Arabella, how do you fare, young one?”
Arabella smiled, linking her hands behind her back; it would not be suitable for her or the general to be seen holding hands. Of course, he would never dishonor his wife, and she did not need problems with Geta.
“Well as I can be, stuck in this grand palace, General, although visiting your wife provides me great comfort.” She explained, letting him know that she and the former empress provide great comfort to each other.
“That is good, although I’m surprised our Imperator lets you have such liberties so often?” confessed Acacius, his smile growing as Arabella shrugged. The little lady did not seem to understand her power over Geta.
As the two converse for a quick while, they both heard footsteps coming their way. Both turned and bowed at Geta and Caracalla coming towards them. Arabella grimaced, hoping Geta was in a good mood; she did not need to have rageful Geta in her hands. As the twins stopped before the lady and general, Caracalla lustfully slid his eyes over Arabella’s body. The lady was beautiful; there was no doubt, her doe brown eyes giving the allusion of innocence, her brown curly hair that she always kept up, allowing a few strands to frame her round face. She never wore too much makeup; she was a beauty, and it always made him jealous that she was Geta’s and Geta’s only. Geta never even touches her, which is what makes him upset; from what he knows, she has only laid with his brother twice since she was made a concubine. She is the only original concubine he and his brother never shared, and when he asks Geta, he becomes dark and threatens him. What was so special about this girl that he couldn’t have?
“Imperators,” greeted Arabella, never letting her sight fall on either brother.
Geta stares at Arabella for a while, seemingly disinterested, before turning to Marcus Acacius.
“General, I would expect you riding to your household to greet your wife that you so desperately say you miss… not conversing with a concubine…and mine to add…” Drawled Geta, annoyed at his brother’s taunting smirk and a little laugh.
Before Geta could snap at his brother to quiet, he was interrupted by a soft voice.
“It was my fault, Imperator; I spoke to him first; I apologize for my transgressions,” replied Arabella, not wanting the general to be on thin ice with them because if Acacius were in trouble, it would lead to Lucilla. Arabella did not push this on the woman she considered a motherly figure to her.
Caracalla and Acacius froze at the interruption; no one stupid enough would ever interrupt Geta while he was speaking.
As the tension grew, Arabella inhaled, praying to the gods Virtus and Mars for bravery. She raised her eyes to Geta, letting her brown eyes meet his. As the two stared at each other, the emperor and lady, it felt like a pin could drop and create the loudest echo. Another beat went by as Geta closed his eyes and exhaled, walking away and calling for his brother to follow him, then barking for the concubines to be brought to the entertainment room. This left Arabella exhaling in relief and smiling at Acacius. Acacius stared at the lady in shock, again surprised at how much power she had over the older twin emperor.
“General, please let my Lady know I shall visit her in the morn to break my fast with her…rest well,” lightly commanded Arabella as she inclined her head with respect and walked the opposite way where the emperors were, seemingly she was the only concubine not entertaining them tonight.
Again, amazed that Arabella did not seem to understand her stance and power, he inclined his head towards the little lady and walked to his horse, wanting to reunite with his wife.
As Arabella watched the general leave, she sighed in despair, being left alone again in a place she knew she did not belong. She walked to her chambers, and she was lucky; she knew that. While the other Conbuines had to share a section of the palace, ready to please their Imperators, she had her private chamber far from the emperors' chambers. She supposed being a daughter and niece of two well-respected Senators provided that perk. Arabella sunk into her chair and stared at her reflection. Another day in her prison, alone with no true friends, she is used as a pawn for an achievement she will never get. She knows she will never be empress; Geta enjoyed his freedom from marriage too much to consider that notion. She just wondered what was his gain in keeping her locked up, never touching her, and seemingly not interested in being close to her. Was it to keep her father in check? She supposes that was the reason she was a hostage bargain. Humming the sad lullaby, her eyes dimming, she began to unravel her hair, combing it as tears pooled in her eyes.
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Even if I haven't been very active lately, 9 years is still pretty significant- happy birthday to the blog!
So like Percy up there I'm gonna do so dome reflecting. This blog's where I've often done that for some reason, but here's the tl'dr for blog related stuff.
• I would like to keep drawing stuff but feeling generally unsure in myself, and I'm wondering if all the years of fandom harrassment have caught up with me • I have one big project in mind, I've been dipping my toe into what I'd need to do it. No spoilers but it was one of the first things I played around with this series, so do with that what you will • If I can keep myself drawing, I want to use more of the original source material since I'm struggling with original ideas. So stuff like redraws, hOpEfULlY even animatics, just like what originally got me so into trains yknow? Because that's fun and sparks joy. And that always goes down a treat with you guys so bonus • As always I appreciate you guys not coming after me for being so inconsistent
The rest of this is me doing what Percy's doing in the drawing and reflecting, as there is indeed much 2 think about. It's also a little sad and venty so, there's your warning there.
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Ok so obviously a busy year, we moved into our new house that we actually own, I spent most of the year planning our wedding, and then got married. Big stuff. Also! I came off antidepressants in the summer. I've been on them for...basically as long as this blog, 6 months after I started it I think. Which also means I'd been on antidepressants my entire adult life. Feels like a big deal and I guess I'm still adjusting.
Another big thing, but sad, is that my dog died about two weeks ago. If you follow me on twitter you'll have seen her but she did make an appearance here a few Halloweens ago
I got her when she was 13 and had her 8 years after that. So that's been difficult. Unrelated to that (probably), but I just feel...really mediocre. And before you point out the obvious, this has been present even before I came off antidepressants. But yeah just... mediocrity. In myself as a person, how I look, what I draw, my whole life really (barring my marriage thankfully). What have I achieved? I'm 26, I'm not working, I don't feel well, my art isn't good (I don't think so anyway- like yeah it's technically fine I guess but it's not, and has never been, very stand-out or impressive). And lately art doesn't bring me the same joy it once did, and I'm wondering if all the years of harrassment from this fandom (mostly the twitter side, tumblr's been pretty good to me) has finally caught up with me and put me off the whole thing. Or worse, that I just don't have as much of an interest in it anymore. I don't think I'll ever be like "ok yep I'm officially done with this blog" because I'm so stubborn but idk. I want to make things and be creative, I want to make more train art, but it doesn't feel the same. I don't know what's wrong. What do you listen to? What you want vs what you feel? I still enjoy train stuff, I love going to Awdry Ex every year. It's been like this for awhile. It's not even like I have a strong feeling of what I'd rather be doing as far as careers go. And even if I did, oh yeah I'm sure my two degrees in animation will be very relevant in another field (sarcasm). I feel adrift. My sails are open but there is just no wind. Planning my wedding gave me something to do and work on and just, feel useful but now that that's over I feel lost again. Losing my dog, who had become the center of my life because of how vulnerable she had become, hasn't helped.
On the more creative side of things, I also don't really know what to do with this blog's story either. The show's ended as far as most people are concerned, and I kiiinda wrote myself into a corner because once Thomas turns 18 he's going to leave for university, and that sets off this whole arc with James but basically the problem is it involves characters leaving and for some reason that feels like a no-no here. Don't get me started on the timeline lol. But Thomas works on a railway on Sodor, that's how it has to be...right? I guess I'm sort of at a crossroads of, ok do I want this to be close to the source material, and thus easily digestible to newcombers? Or do I want to make it more and more my thing and distanced from the source material? I doubt there's many new people coming since the series ended. And even then, there's a lot more humanization artists around now than when I started, so it's not like I'm filling a niche anymore. Just to be clear it's fine and also good that there's more humanization artists, variety is good, I just don't feel as "needed" anymore (which is 100% in my head and not an actual role that belongs to me or something). I started this blog when I was 17, so my interests and what I relate to have changed obviously. The character designs certainly have. It's never followed a super rigid story plan, but the core of it has always been the central cast doing things on Sodor. I however have always had a scene/project/animatic/whatEver in mind for when this 'series' would '''officially''' ''''end''''. But then what comes after that? I've always tried to run this blog like they are Real People that You interact with. But in real life there is no ending to the story, there's always more stuff to come. You get married, and it's wonderful, and then life goes on. The credits never roll. So maybe that's what I'm having trouble coping with...the progression of time. Ah, my old nemesis. I've always had trouble with letting go of things. There's nothing to say that I couldn't still draw stuff after the series "ends". I guess any story after Thomas leaves could be like... a sequel series or a spin off or something. Spin-off of a spin-off. Famous 8 All Grown Up. Famous 8 Qurter Life Crisis. Who knows. I certainly don't.
I've also been really into an original project unrelated to this but those don't get as much attention and while I'd like to do something with it one day, I don't feel very confident in being able to make that happen right now. But you know... as far my as art not being super spectacular goes... I think my individual talent has always been is my ideas, like the writing side of things. And then brought to life with my art, which normally isn't anything to write home about but is good enough to convey the idea and be not-awful to look at, lifts both of them beyond what they were individually. Maybe that's what I should focus on. Maybe that's wishful thinking.
So....idk. Idk what I'm doing but I'm trying to be gentle on myself and just let myself continue to drift, to heal from this heavy loss, and then in the New Year I'll try and pick myself up. Then there will be no more big once-in-a-lifetime events coming up, no more just-moved-into-a-house-and-oh-no-there's-a-bunch-of-things-that-need-attention-NOW scenarios, and no more big holidays for awhile. I guess we'll see.
If you read all of this I am so sorry but also thank you for reading my ramblings. And thank you for being around, whether that's been for a few months or for several years, but especially if it's been several years
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