#so better to get it all out of the way at once (also the same reason for the 3 vaccines)
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i'll keep you warm ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
pairing: jackson!abby x fem!reader
summary: you're in jackson with the salt lake crew, and tensions are high. losing herself in you on a cold night is the perfect way for abby to ease her pent-up worry and agitation.
cw: nsfw, porn with plot, soft dom!abby, tribbing, fingering (r!receiving), boob touching/licking, tense and stressed abby, established relationship, semi-public (?), dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl), fluff then smut, reader comforting abby. 3.1k
a/n: there's something about jackson abby... mmm. this is somehow both fluffy and smutty at the same time, which i didn't fully intend, but i think my adoration for her just slipped in lmao. also the longest and possibly filthiest thing i've written so far, soo do with that what you will. enjoy!!
The world outside was a snow globe, a swath of white blanketing towering pines. Dark had fallen, and the wind had started up again, blowing the thick flakes every which way and making it hard even to see the forest beyond. It looked frigid, and you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, grateful to be back inside. You were still tired from the journey over here, and it felt like the chill had settled deep into your bones, making everything ache dully. You wanted to be back in Seattle, back where it was familiar. Not this cold, lonely-feeling place—but you knew you were here for a reason.
And the sooner it was over and done with, the better.
You turned from the window when you heard the faint creak of the floorboards, and Abby rounded the corner, exhaustion written across her features. She was tense, had been ever since you’d left home; you could see it in the stiff way she moved, in the way she seemed distracted, often lost in thought. Her mind was clearly elsewhere, and you could guess precisely where that was.
“You’re still up,” she said, slightly out of breath from coming in from outside. There was a light dusting of snow on her coat and hat, and her face was flushed from the cold. You thought she looked like an angel.
“Couldn’t sleep.” You watched her pull off her hat and begin shucking off her coat as she moved further into the room, eyes scanning you briefly as if to make sure you were okay. She was always doing that—always looking out for you even when there was nothing to worry about. It made your chest flicker with warmth. “It looks pretty bad out there.”
“Awful,” Abby confirmed. She ambled over to join you at the window. “Scoped out the area, though. The plan is to head down into the valley. I’m hoping it’ll get us somewhere, at least.”
“We’ll find him,” you said firmly, reassuringly, your voice hushed in the quiet of the room. Everyone else had gone to bed, and it was almost like it was just the two of you out here, in this lonely cabin. It felt intimate. You closed the remaining distance between you, resting a hand on her arm and rubbing it lightly. “We’ve come so far already. Try not to worry about it anymore until tomorrow, ‘kay?”
She puffed a small sigh, and after a pause she nodded, looking back at you. “Yeah,” she murmured. A soft look came into her eyes as she stared at your face for a long moment, gaze lingering over your features in a way that made you want to look away, unexpectedly shy. She brought a hand up to tuck a piece of your hair back behind your ear, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek as she did.
You felt heat bloom across your face under her attention, at the tenderness of the touch. You breathed a quiet laugh. “What?”
“Just… glad you’re here.” Abby’s thumb skated across your cheekbone once more before slowly drawing back. She looked like she wanted to say more, but you felt all the meaning of the words, heart swelling in your chest. Before you could say anything, a shiver rippled through you, and her gaze dipped down to where you were clutching your sweater tightly around you. “Are you cold? I’ll get the fire going.”
“That’s okay, you don’t have to—” you started, but she was already halfway across the room, striding to the fireplace. She tossed a few logs in and then crouched down in front of it, using a piece of flint and steel to spark a flame. Truly, what had you done to deserve her?
Slowly, you made your way over to the old mattress you’d stationed before the hearth, where your sleeping bags were spread out. You sat, quietly watching her nurse the flames into a steadily blazing fire that filled the room with warmth. Immediately, you felt a bit better as the chill in your bones dissipated.
Your eyes traced over Abby as she worked, a somewhat faraway expression on her face as she stared into the flames. You made no effort to hide the way your gaze lingered indulgently on the veins in her hand as it gripped the fire poker, the flex of her biceps beneath her shirt. It wasn’t something you could help; your admiration for her never lessened, and you still felt a flush of awe each time you stopped to really look at her—which was, needless to say, often.
Still, though, seeing how high her nerves were sent a stab of worry and protectiveness in your gut. You knew how much this meant to her, avenging her father. It had been the sole thing driving her since his death, and now that she was finally so close, the tension and impatience radiating off of her was palpable. You wished you could take it away, carry the burden of it yourself—or, at the very least, ease it for awhile.
Abby set the poker aside and sat beside you on the mattress, grunting a bit with exhaustion as she lowered herself down beside you. She began unlacing her boots, glancing sidelong at you as she did. “Better now?”
You nodded, a soft smile ghosting across your lips. “Much better. Thank you,” you said quietly. When she had kicked her boots off, you closed the space between you, swinging a leg over her to settle in her lap. Your arms laced around her neck, and her hands came up to rest on your thighs instinctively, squeezing them lightly.
“I should be the one asking you if you need anything. You’ve had a long day.” You gave her a light, chaste kiss, and brushed the pad of your thumb over her soft bottom lip. “Are you hungry? I’ll go heat something up for you.”
“I’m fine. I had something before I left,” she told you, her hands rubbing against your thighs languidly. “Don’t worry about me.” She leaned forward to capture your lips in another kiss; this one was deeper, tinged with yearning. You sighed into it, feeling her tongue run along your lip before dipping into your mouth to brush against yours.
When you pulled away, you looked at her earnestly. She was always downplaying her own needs, always insisted on being the one to cater to you. You loved it, of course, but you felt the need to take care of her, too, especially right now. “Let me make you some tea, then.” You made to get up, but her grip on your thighs tightened a bit, pulling you back down against her lap.
Wordlessly, she drew you into another kiss, tongue stroking into your mouth in a hungry way that made you groan. The pure need in it caught you off-guard, stirring the desire in the pit of your stomach so suddenly it was almost startling. “I don’t want tea,” she murmured against your lips when you broke apart for breath. The implications of the words were clear—it was something else that she wanted.
She kissed along your jaw before moving down to your neck, lightly sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. You sucked in a breath as your head tilted a bit to the side, giving her easier access. It was your favourite spot to be kissed, instantly made you dissolve into putty, and she knew it.
Her hands trailed up your thighs and under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they slid over your bare skin. They were calloused and warm, her touch firm as it roamed higher, stopping just under your breasts. Then she tugged lightly at the hem of your shirt. “Take this off,” she ordered, voice firm but still achingly soft, her breath warm against your neck.
You complied almost instantly, the heat pooling south in your abdomen not making you inclined to oppose her. Reaching down, you pulled your sweater up and over your head in one smooth motion, leaving your torso bare but for the lacy lilac bra that Abby loved so much on you. The heat of the crackling fire behind you warmed your exposed skin, keeping the chill from fully getting to you.
Abby pulled back to look at you, her gaze drinking you in as her hands wasted no time moving to undo the clasp of your bra. You could tell she was impatient for this, her eyes dark with lust, her breathing growing heavier as she unhooked your bra and slipped it down your arms a bit clumsily. It sent a sharp stab of desire through you, and suddenly you needed her hands on you, needed to feel them everywhere.
The bra came off, revealing your bare chest, nipples already hard and perky both from the chill and arousal. Abby’s big hands reached to cup them, squeezing them lightly, her thumbs rubbing over your sensitive buds. “So pretty, baby,” she breathed as she scattered kisses along the column of your throat, your shoulders, your collarbone. They trailed down to your chest, and then she took one of your nipples into her mouth, tongue licking and circling over the perky bud. You sucked in a sharp breath, your body arching into her.
“Abby,” you sighed, clutching at her shoulders as she continued nipping and sucking at your chest. The ache of need in your core was growing with every passing second. Even as you glanced nervously toward the dark hallway, your hips shifted against her thighs, seeking stimulation. “We shouldn’t. What if someone…?”
“They’re all asleep by now,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper as she pulled back to look at you. It was only a second before her hands were back on your tits, kneading them—it was safe to say that she couldn’t get enough of them. “But you’re gonna have to keep quiet, yeah? Think you can do that for me?”
You smirked a little at the teasing note in her tone. “I can manage,” you said, a bit shakily. It was clear, from the way you were squirming in her lap and on the verge of panting, that you needed this just as badly as she did. At this point, you were so aroused that you couldn’t even bring yourself to care much about the fact that you weren’t alone here, that your friends were just in the other room. Fuck it—you would just have to hope that nobody walked in.
Abby’s lips quirked up slightly, amused, as she fumbled to undo the button of your pants. She held your gaze as her hand slid past your waistband and between your thighs. You released a shaky breath as she cupped your heat through the soaked-through fabric of your panties.
“Fuck, look at you,” she groaned lowly as she slowly dragged her fingers over you through the thin fabric. “So wet for me already.”
You bit your lip, a soft moan escaping you as your hips rocked into her touch, desperate for more. You were already aching for her, and her voice, silky and breathless in a way that betrayed her own arousal, certainly wasn’t helping.
She began a slow rhythm, stroking you firmly in a way that had the pleasure climbing steadily. Her hand was angled just right, the heel of her palm pressing right into your clit, and you were fighting back whimpers as it sent shocks of heat through you. As she worked you, her lips found your neck once again, biting and sucking soft skin that would surely bruise tomorrow. You always pretended to be exasperated at having to hide the hickeys she gave you, but in truth, it sent a little thrill through you whenever you caught someone eyeing your neck, the proof that she’d been all over you.
Your head was bent against her shoulder, your faltering breaths and tiny sounds of pleasure muffled against her shirt as you angled your hips to grind your clit harder into her palm. It was getting harder to keep control of yourself, and as you felt the wave of heat begin to rise, your grip on Abby’s arm tightened. Her bicep was solid and muscled beneath your grip.
“Mmph—Abby,” you panted, eyes squeezed shut in barely contained pleasure. “M’not gonna last much longer.”
With those words, it was like her last bit of restraint snapped. Suddenly she was hoisting you up by your thighs, shifting you from her lap to the mattress and pushing you down beneath her with more force than you were expecting, a little “oof” puffing from your lips. She leaned over you and began tugging your pants and underwear down your legs eagerly, making quick work of them. You lifted your hips a bit to help her, and watched with hazy, half-lidded eyes as she got them off and tossed them aside before immediately starting on her own, shoving them down her hips.
It was nothing like the way things usually went between you; nothing like the times she would tease you, drawing out your need until you were practically begging her to fuck you, all while murmuring encouraging words in your ear. This was different—this was pure, carnal lust, itching desperation, and your entire body was burning with arousal at the rough way she was handling you.
You were whimpering with anticipation, your thighs almost trembling with it, in the few moments it took for Abby to get her own pants off. You were completely naked as you lay splayed out across the sleeping bags, but no longer felt the least bit cold, not when Abby covered your body with her own, those big arms braced on either side of your head and her weight pressing you into the mattress below.
She grasped one of your legs and hiked it up sharply as she straddled you, slotting your thighs together perfectly. When you came together, her slick heat sliding wetly against your own, you couldn’t hold back the moan that rasped from your throat as the pleasure slammed into you all at once. Abby muttered a curse in your ear, only pausing for a second to breathe heavily before beginning to move. She gave a firm rock of her hips, and then another, grinding her throbbing pussy against yours and wrenching more sweet moans out of you.
���Shhh,” Abby hushed softly after you uttered a particularly dirty sound that bordered on too loud, her breath warm against the side of your face. Her own breaths were faltering as she kept up her rhythm, not stopping for a second. “Gotta be—mph—quiet, baby. Said you would, remember?”
You bit your lip hard, making a controlled effort to reign in the sounds of pleasure that were threatening to escape at the feel of her rubbing up against your aching clit. The slick sounds of your bodies moving together and your combined panting was all that you could hear in the quiet of the room. Every so often, a low, strangled groan would rumble from Abby’s throat when she wasn’t able to stifle it, her jaw clenched, the space between her eyebrows scrunching in pleasure.
Each movement sent a fresh wave of heat pulsing through you, and Abby’s pace was relentless. She let out a growl, her grip on your thigh tightening as she angled her hips to grind into you even harder. Her hips pushed you into the mattress, now thrusting into you with abandon.
“That’s it, fuck—so good for me, baby.” Her breaths were coming hard and fast, her face hovering close to yours as her eyes roved over you, taking in your blissed-out expression. Your eyes were dropped shut, your fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt so tightly your knuckles were white. You were rocking up into her weakly, but you could hardly do much with all of Abby’s strength on top of you, controlling the movement.
“So pretty when I fuck you like this,” she huffed. “You like it, yeah? Like it when I fuck this pretty pussy? Fuck.”
You just managed a weak nod in response, unable to even grasp the thoughts to form words in the midst of what you were feeling. The tug of heat in your abdomen was pulsing stronger and stronger; you could feel yourself unraveling. Whimpers had started to spill out of you, your body tensing as you neared release.
“Gonna come? Gonna show me how fuckin’ good it feels, huh?” she panted roughly, moving faster as she saw that you were right on the precipice, mouth hung agape, eyes clenched shut, head thrown back. “C’mon, give it to me.”
When you came, your orgasm crashed into you so hard that Abby had to quickly cover your mouth with a hand to muffle the cry you let out as your body jerked underneath her. She moaned, seeing the intensity of your pleasure clearly driving her closer to the edge as well. “That’s my—haah—s’my good girl.” She uncovered your mouth again and watched it wash over you, the aftershocks rolling through you at Abby’s continued thrusts. A few moments later she grunted, and you felt her reach her own peak, her pussy clenching against you, her hips stuttering as she came.
Together, you came down from your high. Abby dropped your leg as she slowed to a stop, her body slumping forward slightly into you for a few moments as she panted into the crook of your neck. You tilted your head to rest your cheek against the side of her face, the sound of your heavy breaths mingling with hers. A small grin tugged at your lips as a wonderfully light and floaty feeling washed over you, and you ran your hands languidly over her muscled back, the slope of her shoulders.
Abby pressed a soft kiss to your skin before rolling off you and onto the mattress beside you, relaxing into it with a sigh. She was still catching her breath, her eyes closed, and you just stared at her for a few beats, glad to see the serene expression on her pretty face. You wished it could stay that way.
After getting up and slowly pulling your clothes back on, you settled beside her again. She looked at you, raising her arm up expectantly in a gesture that invited you to come closer.
“C’mere,” she murmured, and you did, nestling against her and resting your head on her chest. You breathed in the familiar scent of the pine soap she used, listened to the beating of her heart next to your ear. It was utterly quiet now, peaceful, and you began to give in to the call of sleep. You felt Abby’s light touch rubbing soothing circles against your torso, lulling your eyes closed.
“Love you." Her voice was a hushed whisper in the dark.
“Love you, Abs.”
#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson smut#abby tlou#tlou abby#abby anderson x fem reader#wlw fic#lesbian fic#abby anderson fic#the last of us#tlou x reader#tlou 2
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So, this. I was homeschooled, and I will say. I did meet people who had legitimate reasons that homeschooling was better for them. Many had been in public school and were severely bullied, most due to disabilities. I myself was bullied relentlessly and my mom cites that as her reason for pulling me and my siblings out of school. (She was also enamored with the idea of downsizing into a trailer and traveling the country. Yes, with a newborn baby, two audhd kids, a dog, and her crumbling marriage) Here's how that went:
The thing is, I didn't stop being bullied when I was pulled out, I just didn't have any escape from the bullying happening in my home. I went from having a small group of friends and acquaintances and teachers to talk with to only my abusive mother, absent father, struggling little brother, and the baby I was raising in place of my mom. (She slept in the same bed as me for the first 6 years, I fed, bathed, changed, and entertained her)
Occasionally, we would fall in with homeschooling co-ops, but inevitably, drama would happen, and I learned not to get attached. I don't think I could name one single person I met during that time period if you held a gun to my head. The whole traveling the country thing didn't work out, and we went from having a house to camping or renting in small spaces. I was 12 when I started homeschooling, and I stayed at a 5th grade education level for the most part until I was 16. My mom soon stopped having any interest or ability to teach me, so I mostly just read and fucked around all day. It was boring and frustrating, I didn't have consistent access to the internet, and I fought with my family all the time.
My state doesn't require homeschoolers to submit a report card or have the children see a counselor once a year, or really anything. In 2015, my mom gave up on educating me and put me in a dual enrollment program at a community college for high schoolers, and that was what got me finally to something approaching my peers on an education level. It also finally put me in contact with adults who cared about me and wanted me to succeed, professors who checked on my progress and listened to my concerns. A library with an internet connection and nobody watching what books I was reading.
That school saved my life, and I don't say that lightly.
In 2017, a fellow homeschooler in my state was not so lucky. Matthew Tirado was a 17 year old nonverbal autistic kid who was enrolled in public school. His parents were repeatedly reported for child abuse, especially by his sister, until they took his sister out of school completely. Two months later, Matthew died. His sister didn't have any way of contacting outside help anymore, and her brother died because their parents knew that nobody could speak up for him any more.
I remember everyone else's horror, and outrage, and I remember my mom. The woman who had abused me when she knew I had nobody to go. She was scared. Because she still had my younger siblings, and she did not want to face consequences. So many homeschooling parents in my state did the same, and they fought hard to defend their right to abuse their kids. And they won.
To this day, in my state 36% of parents who pulled their child from public school in order to homeschool them did so *after* a Department of Child and Family Services (DCF) investigation revealed that they were abusing their children. That's more than one fourth. Once a child is pulled out of school in my state, there are no requirements accommodations, no therapy, no supports, and no accountability. Homeschool parents willfully practice 'unschooling' or buy curriculums from shady organizations that purport to provide an education that will turn their children into whatever parents want them to be.
Public schools aren't great. We all know this. Neither are private schools, in a different, equally fucked way. But homeschooling with no checks or balances, nobody even making sure the kids are still alive after they're out of the system? It's a level of nightmare I dearly wish nobody had to experience. And I got off so lightly.
Anyway enough lame gifted kid discourse we are in our 20s. Let's talk about how homeschooling in america should be fucking illegal it's insane lol
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Humor Me (Even When it's Ruining Me)
part two
masterlist | taglist: pricegouged
babysitter!reader x single dad!price
cw: fem reader. implied age gap. nothing specific beyond reader being legal. alcohol. reader is a brat and john's having a lot of fun with it. inappropriate work flirting lmao. also i beefed john up cause i could. daddy kink. MDNI
Banner by @/cafekitsune
Chapter two
Three weeks later and you don't quite know what's happened, or who you even are anymore. You're waspish and short, run ragged between classes and the two families you've somehow managed to become employed for. They're nice enough to coordinate between themselves, most nights - Kate reaching out with a schedule the two of them have agreed on that lets you manage both kids at once. That doesn't mean they can always get their kids under the same roof for you, their schedules always too full to manage the drive across town. As if yours is any better.
The tentative routine you've fallen into is easy enough on paper, attending morning class before heading over to the Laswell's and doing most of your classwork there, even attending an online lesson once a week because Colin is a little angel who can remain calm as long as you are, but it all goes pretty much to shit the second you embark to pick up Emily from preschool around midafternoon, loading Colin into the carseat the Laswells very generously bought for you.
(Between the fact that it stays belted into your car twentyfour seven now because you don't trust yourself to reinstall it properly without the weirdly mechanical tests John used to ensure its safety when he set it up the first time and the fact that Colin can occasionally be heard cooing in the background of your more interactive lessons, there's definitely a rumor going around campus that you have a baby. You're not sure how you feel about it, but it does tend to keep the more annoying boys at arm's length so you haven't really gone out of your way to correct it quite yet. Emily's booster gets stored in your trunk, though. You don't quite want to know what kind of leper you'd become if your classmates thought you'd been on Sixteen and Pregnant.)
The girl is… tougher. Well behaved but boisterous, moody at times. Her rambunctiousness is infectious, gets Colin worked up from the confines of his seat in a way he doesn't usually wind down from for hours while Emily prattles on about her day and waves glittery crafts at you, leaving your car looking like a bad drag hangover, still-tacky finger paints smearing like lipstick stains on your upholstery.
(This is why Emily's booster stays in the trunk, there's already enough misleading evidence all over your car.)
(This is why John doesn't pick up his own daughter, you're fairly sure, and you've half a mind to install a glitter bomb in his glove box as revenge.)
You don't always have to watch the girl, John's evening schedule an unfixed thing, but Emily always seems excited to see you pulling up, as if she knows that her father works even when he's home. It's why you try to stay patient with her when her boundless energy riles the baby up, or when her incessant need for attention prevents you from finishing papers on time. It's not her fault, but it is slowly driving you insane.
Gina helps out when she can, usually bringing dinner for everyone when she stops by the Price's to pick up her kid in the early evening. Sometimes she even stays for a bit, helps keep Emily entertained while you streamline the bedtime routine with hopes of finishing up homework after she tucks in for the night. It's a valiant effort made by all, but the girl doesn't often play along, much too busy antagonizing you to bother showering in a timely manner. There are nights you think of her more like a little sister than a client, the way she picks on you. You feed it right back in your darker hours, when having every minute of your day planned out and consumed weighs on you, giving you teeth. You'd made her cry once by mistake, your tone more than your words themselves needling under her skin until she burst into tears, hid in her room until her father came home. There'd been an odd sense of relief to it, balancing out the panic of a bad review. Sure, you'd be fired and no one would want to hire you ever again if John used that one app where you got most of your odd jobs, but at least the Laswells wouldn't give you up and you could return to your regular schedule. But when Mr. Price got home that evening, he'd only listened to his whiny daughter with a soft smile, kissing her on the forehead before telling you both that he 'Wished his girls would get along.'
You can see where Emily gets it from, her ability to drive you insane, but where the girl is loud and prickly or candy-sweet by turns, a constant one man crew of Guess Who, her father is a steady, low stream abrading you, the funnel where he slips through your cells eroding until he's a constant bubbling under your skin. He's incorrigible, insidious, shameless.
Escalating, lock step with you.
You still haven't returned his shirt. Well, technically you had - once. Worn it that Wednesday, the first time he'd asked you back. You'd done it with every intention of teasing him a little, noting you'd need a replacement if he wanted it back now, and changing out of it before leaving for the night. He'd turned it on your head with a simple 'You could always just take it off,' before you'd even been able to reveal your plan to give it back to him.
He should have expected you to retaliate after that, returning home with it once more. It's remained safe in your dresser ever since, one less avenue for him to come barrelling down the center of, catching you in his headlights like a deer too scared to run. And if keeping it means you get to wear it to bed sometimes, so be it. That's his fault, too, always texting you so late to 'make sure you got back okay.' It's possible he's being gentlemanly, but that would be a first so you refuse to believe it, assume instead that he wants to make you think of him when you're climbing into bed each night. Like you need the help, like you haven't already worn the scent off his shirt. Sometimes you think about weaseling another one from him, or wonder how long it would take him to notice if you outright stole one. You know which room is his, have caught glimpses through the cracked door sometimes when following Emily up to her room. He never shuts it, too trusting. You probably would've already gotten yourself off on his pillow like a bitch in heat if he hadn't let slip early on that Emily sometimes likes to sleep in his bed when he's away. 'Think she misses me sometimes,' his voice was sad but the leer he gave you as he continued was anything but. 'She's allowed, if she wants.'
The next day he mentioned Emily falls asleep quickest when someone lies down with her to read her story. Your papers continue going unwritten, the girl wandering out of her bedroom late into the night because you refuse to start the habit when you know how it will end.
It's unsustainable, feels like you're circling the drain. But the money is great.
While the Laswells had never been stingy, John pays you like a dental surgeon each time he needs you. That same exorbitant rate from the first night, now with a prepaid gas card he seems very uninterested in monitoring the spending of. You'd be tempted to test your theory if you had time, take a road trip out to your parents or something just to see if it ever got declined. Sometimes you fantasize about it at night, texting him an SOS and a picture of your gas gauge on E. It's embarrassing how often he shows up to save the day in your daydreams now, racing to your side in his gleaming Lexus to refuel your car with a suggestive smile, working the nozzle past your intake valve like he's slipping into a wet cunt.
You should probably get laid, but who has the time? Especially given your… situation.
(Your situation being there is no situation. Never has been one. Virginal as the day you were born save for some over-the-pants heavy petting in high school and a rotation of cheap drug store vibes you usually end up abandoning for your own fingers because dear god, you'd think you'd have learned after the first wasted investment but up until now, with John's much needed help, you haven't really been in a position to just spend on sex toys all willy nilly and while yeah, sure, you are now, every time you go to spend his money on an imitation cock you can't help thinking might look like his, you suddenly remember you're only here because you can't put your big girl panties on and -.)
It takes time, is the problem. You don't need the whole blanket under the stars treatment, but you at least want some evidence that you're not going to get jackhammered into the mattress by some selfish, overeager boy who wouldn't know how to get you off if you gave him a manual. But evidence takes time to gather, takes meetups in frat parties you have no interest in attending, and makeout sessions smelly couches just to see if your partner knows how to use their tongue. And for all his provisions, John (John.) has made well and truly certain that the one thing you don't have, is in fact time.
>Need you tonight.
The vibration of your phone against the library desk is loud as a gunshot, the message itself ringing in your ears just as bad. You placed your phone back on the table and sent your deskmate, a handsome senior named Paul who'd been your unofficial Saturday morning library pal for the last two semesters, an apologetic glance.
Paul just waved his hand at you dismissively, a small smile tugging at his lips. With his head bowed into his fourth edition of a rather intimidating neuroscience textbook that gave you anxiety just looking at it, the only way you could tell he wasn't annoyed by your antics at all was the dimpling of his cheeks. It distracted you momentarily, the urge to nibble at the fat there sudden and overwhelming, then your phone vibrated again because you'd been too distracted to silence it and you snatched it back up with an annoyed huff, ready to tell your employer off about disturbing your Sacred Saturday, your one day off a week.
(Again.)
> I know what day it is but it's an emergency.
> I'll make it up to you.
< how so?
You chew your lip waiting for a response, the bubbling typing indicator roiling like your stomach. It's always like this, texting with John - every response teetering on too much. It's why you usually prefer to coordinate with the Laswells as much as possible, minimizing your discussions with Mr. Price to those late night 'Did you make it home okay?' messages.
(And sending him a photo evidence that his shirt was still safe and in your care once.
If you'd been wearing it at the time, snuggled up in bed and haloed in warm fairy lights with the hem riding a little high, that was his fault for asking after it so late.)
Tap, tap, tap.
Across from you, Paul drums his pen off the spiral notebook that sits between you, a custom since your third week sitting together. It's blank aside from your brief, handwritten conversations as far as you can tell, an accessory Paul seems to carry around for this express purpose, evidently preferable to just asking for your number so you can text each other to get around the strict no talking policy in the quietest lounge of the library. In the year or so since you've met him, you've never heard Paul talk, all of your correspondences reduced to the notebook which he draws your attention to now, his tidy scrawl asking a simple but damning question: 'Who's the guy?'
You shake your head, instinctual - automatic. Paul crooks an unimpressed brow at you and underlines his original question.
'Just some guy I work for, why?'
Paul smirks when he reads it but turns serious in response, waving at your overall demeanor as if that answers everything.
In your palm, your phone gives a muted buzz and you have to physically swallow back the urge to check it immediately. You roll your eyes at Paul instead. A poor excuse for the frustration you want to unleash, but opening the valve even a hair was better than just letting it build.
His scrawl is neat when Paul responds. Unaffected, calm. 'You've got a crush.' And then below that, its own paragraph: 'Should I be worried?'
It takes a moment for the words to register, the moment dragging out too long before your eyes dart up to your deskmate. Paul winks, scheming and sly, and your jaw hinges open in shock.
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.
"Shit," you hiss, scrambling out of your seat as your phone continues to vibrate with an incoming call. John's contact lights the screen, the stupid money bag emoji you'd used for him mocking you. You wait until you make it to the stairwell to answer to avoid the worst of the librarian's wrath, though she still shoots you a disapproving glare as you stalk past her post. You've half a mind to let the stairwell door slam behind you, but it would echo louder than your anger and you want John to hear every word when you accept the call.
"I am at the library," you hiss by way of greeting, as if that perfectly illustrates why you're so annoyed with him.
John just grunts, uninterested. "Are you available or not tonight? I need an answer ASAP so I can make plans if you're -."
"I'm off on Saturdays."
A beat passes as John recollects, evidently unused to being interrupted. "Right. Which is why I offered to pay you double your regular rate."
Confused, you check your texts to read the one you'd missed, too busy being chatted up by a cute boy much more appropriately aged. In it, John pleads desperately with you: offers twice your pay, dinner, anything you want.
You think of Paul's cute dimples, the way he's known you for a year without asking for your number. You think of John covered in shaving cream, his first words to you a joke about how desperate you looked - how desperate you both looked.
Hand pressed to your forehead, you shut your eyes and ask what time John needs you.
"Oh, thank you so much, sweetheart. A real lifesaver. I promise I'll make it up to you, just tell me how, okay? And as for tonight, no later than seventeen hundred, please - though honestly you can come by anytime, I'm sure Emily will be happy to see you."
Emily. Right. "Well I'm at the library for a reason, so -."
"You can use my study, of course. The munchkin knows better than to bug me when I'm in there."
Unbidden, you imagine pestering John yourself when he's lounged in some fancy modern desk chair, leather and broad. You bet his study smells like tobacco, that there's a bar cart in the corner. You imagine him using your mouth like a tumbler of whiskey, punishment for running it too much. He'd drink from your lips whenever he -.
"But I suppose I don't have all those useful resources like textbooks… well, consider it a standing offer."
"S-sure, Mr. Price. Thanks."
"Of course. I'll see you later, then?"
"Yes, sir."
On the other end of the line, John's breath stutters. His voice is low when he signs off, blunt and direct. Doesn't wait to hear your response. "Be good, sweetheart."
***
You're not entirely sure what being good constitutes, but you're fairly sure using John's emergency credit card Emily located for you in the freezer to Instacart approximately one day's minimum wage worth of junk food because Emily had been sad and despondent all day wasn't it. Nor was letting her dance her sugar rush off to less than appropriate music, probably, but it was worth it to see her smiling again after the fit she'd thrown when her father had left for the evening. You're both sweaty and breathless now, collapsing onto the couch between songs to shovel more M&Ms into your mouths and make fun of each other's dance moves. Emily says you use too much arm movements, but she's only four and thinks hopscotch skips are the new craze so you ask what she knows anyway and laugh at the way she rolls her eyes at you.
John's talkative too, apparently, the unexpected clients he'd been urgently called in to entertain evidently not holding his attention. He's never exactly radio silent when you've got his kid in your charge, but he usually lets you take the lead (pepper him with stupid questions you already know the answer to just to find an excuse to distract him because maybe you kinda like how short he gets) on those nights.
(Despite this standard, you don't feel the need to tell him you'd managed to read his credit card number through the brick of crystalline ice he'd cleverly hidden it in. You hope he's really short when he figures that stunt out.)
Tonight, however, it's John peppering you with questions. They start out innocent enough, asking after his daughter because he felt bad leaving her on a night that he'd promised to be home and he could see how much it upset her. Those questions peter out when you send him a picture of her all giggly and wound up, her hair freshly braided in a style she said he's too clumsy to accomplish for her. With confirmation that his daughter was feeling better, John's texts turn rapidly back to you.
> And how about you, sweetheart? Are you doing better?
< wym, better?
> What do you mean, wym?
< har har
> I mean you were rather short with me earlier. Are you still upset with me?
> I promise I also don't want to be working on a Saturday, for what it's worth.
< not mad
< just seems like you're not really needed with how much you're blowing up my phone
> Honestly, no. This is a waste of both our time.
> Have you decided how I can make it up to you, at least?
Actually, you hadn't even thought of it, figuring he was just being exaggerative - that he'd pay you your exorbitant rate and be done with it, send you on your way with your thoughts all twisted after some more growled insinuations and a pat on your ass, probably. He seemed like he was maybe two visits away from trying his luck, anyway.
Maybe you could ask for it sooner. Clear the air, finally feel his hands on you. You tell him you don't want anything, clarify nothing he can give you when he calls that out for being a lie.
> Sure about that? I can help with most things.
And the thing is, he's right. There are a lot of things you want. You want to get a better grade on your next econ assignment, you want a full night's sleep. You want to have free time, pick up a hobby. You have a growing desire to learn how to make the perfect pasta after seeing her scarf so many lackluster take out spaghetti bolognaise dishes. The solution was obvious, though one you knew he wouldn't want to hear.
< okay. i want more free time
> So quit with the Laswells.
It draws you up short, Emily bouncing around you unawares. It's one thing to suspect John's - your - end game, but another thing to see it batted around so casually. It makes you feel taken advantage of, guided in a way you don't necessarily appreciate. The Laswells were your first real, well-paying gig, your ticket to independence. You didn't relish the thought of abandoning them and you certainly didn't like to be coerced into the decision.
But John did pay very well.
< just like that?
John's answer is far too quick, the status changing directly from read to answered with a speed that suggested he may have had a response drafted already which he simply copy/pasted.
> It would make the most sense. I can pay well enough to make up for the lost income, plus my schedule works better with your classes.
> Honestly, I'm surprised you even lasted as long as you did with them.
< i wouldn't want to let them down…
> Nonsense, I'm sure they'd understand. You're a busy girl with a full schedule, afterall.
So were they - the whole reason you'd been working for them so long.
< i don't think i could quit on them. kate scares me.
> I'll take care of Kate, okay? No need to worry. I owe you one anyway, remember?
>Just let Daddy handle it.
It takes you a minute, the words somehow too natural to trip you up. Before you, Emily screeches happily about some cartoon that's maybe a touch too old for her and you think to yourself that she's going to sleep good tonight, all tuckered out as you know she's going to be and then you nearly drop your phone in your rush to chastise him, or run your mouth like you always do, or maybe double down on your request.
But the words don't come. Every time you manage to string two whole thoughts together it peters out, the textual manifestation of the gaping anime gasp he's managed to draw from you as you imagine him watching your typing bubbles appear and fizzle over and over again. If he's watching, of course, but he's a busy man so maybe -.
This time when your phone buzzes, there's no threat of a scolding librarian to keep your yelp suppressed. Just the odd look Emily shoots you before being distracted by her brightly colored show again, turning away from you disinterestedly as you excuse yourself to the kitchen.
"Mr. Price?"
"Do I make you uncomfortable?"
"S- sorry?"
His voice is calmer when he repeats himself, the same tone he uses on his daughter when she's too fidgety to listen. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"
And that answer is easy because the flutter in your tummy you get whenever his words grow a little too overt is not discomfort, so the answer comes easily, if quietly. "No."
"Do you want me to stop?"
Through the fog of your fluster, you remember Paul and his glacial pace, the cat calls from boys you've never met before and have no interest in. This is different. This is good. "No."
The breath John lets out doesn't sound like he's been holding it, more a pleased sigh than anything, accompanied by a low hum. "Good girl. Appreciate you telling me. Is this something you want?"
"I just said -?"
"Not wanting me to stop and wanting something to follow through to its logical conclusion are not the same things. Is this something you want?"
The question grates - the notion that he would think of this all as a waste of time if you didn't know you wanted him, maybe. "Hadn't thought about it. You only just -," You counter vehemently, but John just laughs, a heavy burst of breath through his nose. It catches in his mustache - wind cutting through the grass.
"If I were to come home tonight to find you sleeping on my couch and decided to wake you up all sweetly and softly, would that be alright?"
You picture yourself sleep-soft and pliant, heavy hands soothing over your flank as John's rough voice coaxes you awake. "Yes," you breathe.
He hums approvingly. "And if I were to wake you with my tongue in your cunt, would that be too much?"
"John -!" you hiss, scandalized.
"Try again."
A beat passes where you try to smother the pit of nerves in your stomach. "Mr. Price."
"Better. Answer the question, sweetheart."
"Mr. Price, I -." You huff a breath, take advantage of the fact he can't see you to visibly straighten your spine, steel yourself. "Mr. Price, what do you want?"
He doesn't miss a beat. "Easy. I've wanted to bend you over every available surface since you first barged into my bathroom and hinged yourself over that sink."
"I didn't."
"I want to keep that clever little mouth of yours quiet by stuffing it full of my cock. But I also want to hear you complain about what a brat my daughter's been all night because you're cute when you're mad. I want to come home and know what the two of you grabbed for dinner by licking it off your teeth." He pauses to give you an opening, notes your silence, and continues in a much softer voice. "And I want you to be able to focus on school a little better."
You can't manage anything better than a soft oh, and John's responding laugh is a low rumble, voice deceptively soft when he continues - the same voice he uses on Emily when she's too tired to behave properly. You wonder if his colleagues can hear him again, wonder if that's just how he's going to speak to you regardless.
"The question, sweetheart."
"I would like that, Mr. Price."
John's silent in the beat that passes, a hinge creaking open spilling ambient chatter in the background. He'd been sequestered, which means that last tone was only meant for you. "I'll see you tonight, kiddo. Behave for Daddy, yeah?"
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TCH!READER ON THE INTERNET.
MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader
*This is during the two weeks that Rafe ignored her, here is the chapter.*
ynmodelz
liked by sarahcameron, topper and others
ynmodelz dump from the last 2 wks
view all comments ...
username01 perfect as always queen
username02 you play the sims wth???
ynmodelz @/username02 i have BEEN playing the sims are u kidding??
cleoanderson im obsessed with you 😘
ynmodelz @/cleoanderson i haven't stopped thinking about you baby
jjmaybank @/ynmodelz this is gay as fuck
username03 no rafe pic.............
username04 @/username03 I thought the same thing and she hasn't been posting him on her story too so idk what's going on
username05 are you still with rafe
aishapatel SHE IS OUT OF THE PSYCH WARD DOCTOR ‼️‼️
ynmodelz @/aishapatel my fingers are slowing approaching the block button.
username06 GUYS SHE POSTED DONT SMILE BY SAB ON HER STORY
username07 @/username06 THEY DEF BROKE UP 😭😭😭😭😭
username08 @/username06 JUST FELL TO MY KNEES IN THE MIDDLE OF TARGET
username09 @/username06 they are now my roman empire
kiecarrera I need that cup. NOW.
ynmodelz @/kiecarrera omg omg let me send u the link so u can buy it and we can match
username10 @/ynmodelz notice how she didn't gatekeep. very cutesy very mindful very demure
username11 are you alright baby?
ynmodelz @/username11 yes why
username11 @/ynmodelz cause ur posting really sad shit on ur story
ynmodelz @/username11 can't a girl be depressed once in a while 😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣
johnbrledge I like the song you picked
ynmodelz @/johnbrledge donatella VERSACE 💜
username02 @/ynmodelz YN PLS 💀
username12 @/ynmodelz not a single nonchalant bone in her that's fs
username07 @/ynmodelz lets stay serious yn i beg of u 😭 i love her sm
yn_updates
liked by rafesquerie and others
yn_updates YN posted these two stories (edit: she deleted the second one)
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username01 i didn't believe it at first but i think she broke up with rafe
username02 pls don't tell me she broke up rafe
username03 she has been posting so many sad stuff on her story
username04 @/username03 ik im so worried
username05 guys what if she's js feeling sad for no reason 🤷♀️ like no need to overthink
username06 @/username05 exactly!!! like rafe was seen w her just right before he left nyc. they're probably fine
username07 @/username06 that's what i'm thinking and also the pics of them at kelce's party THEY ARE FINE!!! you r all such dramatics 🙄
username08 what if she relapsed yall.......
username09 @/username08 STOP BC WHY WOULD SHE PUT THOSE NESSA LYRICS
username10 @/username08 She def relapsed. She looked skinnier in her last post
username11 @/username08 i am so worried about her
username12 did anyone notice how no paparazzi pictures of her have been out for two weeks?
username13 she's so real 😂
username14 if rafe was my man id be having withdrawals too
username15 I don't like her 🤮
yn_updates @/username15 flop 🫵
username16 everyone on twt talking abt her relapse did she really?
username17 @/username16 Yes
username18 @/username16 not sure it's all js theories bc she looks skinnier, has been posting and deleting a lot of things about the way she looks and weight
username16 @/username18 omg no 😢 poor her i hope she gets better
ynmodelz guys i'm fine 🤍 im just being dramatic i promise
rafecameron
liked kelce and others
rafecameron 🌳
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username01 I LOVE YOU RAFE
username02 gimme a piece of dat 😵💫
kelce man is tweaking out fr
username03 @/kelce wait what
popeheyward Call me. Now.
username04 @/popeheyward lemme syd pls
username05 did you and yn break up?
username06 where even are you
username07 BRO CHECK ON UR GIRL SHES CRASHING OUT ‼️‼️‼️‼️
sarahcameron i hope the ground swallows you
rafecameron @/sarahcameron I wish you had a twin that ate you in the womb
username08 did yn relapse?
username09 i heard that u broke up w the model
chiararoro Handsome
username10 @/chiararoro MY ENDGAME
username11 @/chiararoro you should be w him instead of that fugly model
username12 mf hasn't seen his girl in two weeks and started reconnecting with nature 😭😭
rafecameron's are comment's unavailable
#the contracted heart#rafe cameron imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron obx#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#social media#smau#obx smau#drew starkey
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I always feel pretty dumpy after getting dumped. Tonight was no different. I decided to walk the grounds one last time, and the tranquil beauty of the gardens seemed extra mean somehow. Like I was walking through something beautiful that I never even got a chance to miss. No chance to enjoy. Just rejection. Again. And the same message, though at least this time they tried to be kind about it.
Please never practice magic like that again. Bards were mages until you were too good at singing. Then things got suspicious to the headmasters. Song could be such a powerful tool and manipulate people across the field the way that death could. Put death and song together and humans always got so uncomfortable. And when it came to humans, nothing was more unlucky than a sweet death. They say the way they want to die is old and in bed surrounded by their families but...it's never true. Every single one of them secretly yearns for some kind of glory in their hearts, and it just rots and rots and rots as they age. I'd know. I'm human too. But I'm also banshee and people can just feel it. Especially those who are academically inclined. In some cultures they saw us as prophets... until they learned that the angels sing in our ears and fall out of our throats. Also people only like the idea of prophets. Tell them enough future truth and they start looking for the matches and rope. Or a crucifix.
Bewitchment. Enchantment. Manipulation. No one wants to invite a banshee to the table where everyone is sweet and happy and alive with rosy cheeks and laughing eyes.
I'm an omen. It's kind of lonely. But I get it. I suppose if I were someone else I'd feel the same.
I found myself in a gazebo near the tallest of the little sculpted waterfalls in this garden. I liked the way the water sang and flowed as it poured itself over the rocks. It was summer, so there were fireflies, and I could get back to being lost in my thoughts a bit as I watched the way they all twinkled around each other. My son used to say they were all teleporting. I laughed at him, kissed the top of his head, and earmarked that for later because that might be something he ends up being keen at. My daughter used to say she had the power of the forest when she was very young, and gods if she couldn't tell you exactly what creatures were thinking when they wanted something. The more specific the better with my daughter.
I shifted, crossing my legs over each other and anchoring my elbows on the wooden railing and letting my chin fall heavily into my palms. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, trying to catch and understand the direction and pattern to the way the wind blew tonight. The air smelled like roses and jasmine and I looked up to see the little white flowers hanging from their vines right above me. There were lanterns of golden light and everything felt smoky and indigo. A moonlit darkness that was so easy to see around but too misty to see through.
Was it the song, I wondered? I replayed the interview in my mind. I've been learning how to perform on a stage and have gotten to this point where I fall fully into the music. I don't let my mind control the song anymore, but trust my heart to attune and express it authentically. Sometimes my heart sounds drunk or bitter. Sometimes it sounds like delight and perfection. Today... I couldn't remember. I'd found that I could trick people into thinking maybe I was some sort of reformed cleric turned bard if I sang religious songs. Today I considered a shanty because those work too. But in the end I settled on a lullaby and at first everyone looked peaceful and happy but then that look came into their eyes when they realized where they were and what was going on.
Someone told me once that it was frightening to find yourself suddenly disarmed, especially if being vulnerable wasn't something you were used to being with people. I saw that happen in real time today, and suddenly understood what he meant.
Yay, more awareness.
That brought a bit of temper to my system so I stood up and walked over to the stream to sit down. The grass was wet but I didn't care. I took off my shoes and put them into the water that ran clear and cold over a stone bottom. It was deep enough to cover my ankles. I put my palms to the earth behind me, took a deep breath, and let my head fall back as I sighed it out.
I was so fucking disappointed.
But, I'd still done it. I took the chance. I learned something. All of it sucked. I'd maybe built a few sandcastles in my mind about how my life would fit into the routine that school would have brought me. I let myself sit and grieve what was never mine but still felt lost to me. I imagined the tide of this rejection crushing all the sandcastles in one giant wave. I felt my emotions rise out of my heart, making my throat sore, took another deep breath, and sighed as I let the tears release the sadness and flow down my cheeks like the current at my feet.
Fuck, I really really wanted something else to happen. I wanted the outcome I wanted. And I didn't want any other outcome. I didn't want to go to another school. I didn't want to look at other schools. I didn't want to be a bard if I couldn't go to this school. I didn't want anything.
My body shook with a little sob as my shoulders slumped back.
I didn't want anything ever again and-
Suddenly I was laughing, and I just collapsed. I laughed and cried at the same time and rolled around in the grass. If I was going to be a fucking child like this about this I was going to commit and be a child. My heart was broken a little bit and the grass was so wet and awful but it smelled so good. I closed my eyes and cursed as I realized my hair was going to be wet now that I did this and...
There was a cough and a "Ma'am?"
I froze like a rabbit. Then I closed my eyes tighter just in case this was a dream and I could escape the inevitable embarrassment of someone from the school that rejected me seeing me rolling around in the grass like an animal. The moments clicked by awkwardly and I didn't cut to the next scene, so I opened my eyes to face the music.
Security guard. Handsome. I always liked a man in uniform. Flirting was not going to help me escape embarrassment but it could make this story more interesting. As though he were reading my mind, his face darkened with an expression that read plainly don't even try it. Great, a challenge. The only thing I can't resist. His arms crossed as we both seemed to take in each other's character in this particular moment. He scowled deeper.
I sat up like a naughty child and patted at my hair, then shook it out like a dog would. He was watching closely. My head tilted to the side and I beamed angelically. "Sorry, you caught me making grass angels," I chirped merrily.
In order to be admitted to a magic school potential students only need to provide irrefutable proof that they are mages, yet, despite your very obvious abilities, you were rejected with a comment asking you to "please never practice magic again".
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Hi! Do you take requests?
If so, I think a fic bases on this excerpt:
"she can't have her parents walking in again. poor cassandra…finding your daughter with her whole face buried in between a girl's thighs is not the most ideal situation"
of your cailtyn story would be phenomenal 🙏
If you don't, feel free to ignore this! :)
Let's start by saying Caitlyn knows how to eat pussy and loves doing it :3 babe could have it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and even dessert. she wouldn't call herself an expert per se, but she's quite proud of her talent.
sure, receiving it feels good—but what's better than knowing you're making a girl cum with just your mouth? to cait, absolutely nothing. the moans, the hair-pulling, the thighs clenching against her head ♡ ugh chef's kiss.
( she came untouched a few times from it but you did not hear it from me ok? )
it's usually one the first things she does when you successfully sneak into her room. like a reward for getting through massive place she calls home without anyone noticing.
your back against the bed and legs immediately spread to expose the sight she absolutely adores. god, she could just stare at it forever and it'd still have the same effect in between her own legs. new panties are needed.
she doesn't dive in face-first like an animal the second your clothes are off, even if she does feel like a starved woman. she starts by slowly kissing your thighs and caressing any bit of skin she can, hand sneaking up your abdomen and ribs to massage your breasts a little—don't mind it.
“Should I continue?” cocky because she already knows the answer is a breathy ‘yes, please’.
oh and she gets way more cocky once she finally starts working on you, soft and slow stripes and twirls with her tongue. nothing fancy yet; she wants to tease a little more.
the second your hips start bucking into her mouth though? girl, grab onto something because she takes the signs IMMEDIATELY.
legs propped up on her shoulder while her hands hold your hips down to keep control of them. the slurping sounds are almost pornographic with how sloppy she's being. no whine coming from you is gonna make her stop any time soon. she's enjoying it waaaay to much already.
if she's feeling nice she will add a finger or two while sucking ๋࣭⭑ curling them just right inside you, not in-and-out like crazy. her tongue’s already lapping at you pretty fast so no need to overwhelm you…yet.
she wishes you would look down at her for a sec to see that pretty expression better, but she also understands it's her own fault that your head is thrown back against the bed, clenching around her fingers while pulling at her hair. what a curse to be so good at pleasing girls.
she knew speeding up her movements wasn't a smart thing to do so late at night as soon as the loud whine that escaped your lips reached her ears. obviously louder than the previous ones.
the heavy thump on the door when it opened proved her right.
“Caitlyn.”
of course it had to be her mother out of all people.
cassandra's eyebrows furrowed as she looked away with a small huff, trying to erase the sight from her mind by blinking and observing every detail on the window. she thought caitlyn was trying to sneak out and get involved with stuff she shouldn't like she had done in the past with serious cases or something, not this!
“It is 3 am; please take your… friend out of here.” a dismissive wave of her hand showed that there wasn't much room for arguing—none really because she's already out the door with a low mumble to herself before her daughter could say anything. tomorrow's talk is gonna be awful, that's for sure.
“just keep quiet some more, then you can go home, alright?” the blue haired girl softly whispered, leaning up and kissing the soft skin on your shoulder to reassure that you're not leaving until you get a few well deserved orgasms, her fingers already going back to rubbing small circles.
she's not gonna let a pretty girl leave her bedroom unsatisfied even if it means getting caught again.
#pupi writes ᝰ#IT TOOK ME SO LONG#i'm embarrassed#anyway#if this is shit pls let me now y'all#caitlyn kiramman x reader#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn smut#caitlyn kiramman smut#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#arcane smut#arcane x reader#wlw smut#wlw nsft#sapphic writing#sapphic smut#how do i even write smut#I'M NEW AT THIS#why do i always post fics at 5 am#not good for my health
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𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠
ft: kokushibo tsugikuni, douma, akaza soyama, sekido, karaku, urogi, aizetsu, nakime daki, gyutaro, and kaigaku
i need to start writing more cus this is doodoo i think im gonna open request for once
LEAST JEALOUS
# douma ! ☆
DOUMA can't feel anything meaning he can't really feel jealousy at all.. So there really wasn't anything he would even do or know what to do if he could even feel jealousy. Even if he could he's rather confident in himself with his status of an uppermoon and as a cult leader along with his members. Douma also has confidence in you and trust your eyes are set on him only.
# nakime ! ☆
NAKIME is another who I couldn't see feeling much jealousy at all. She puts all her trust into you and believes you have prestine loyalty to her as she does to you! She doesn't believe the presence of another would ever disturb your relationship with each other, she trust you too much to even have a reaction.
# kokushibo ! ☆
KOKUSHIBO is always one to have confidence in your loyalty, as its something he doesn't take lightly. The commitment you have towards each other is something he values and doesn't believe it can be altered so easily.He also has confidence in himself strength and status wise. He doesn't believe somebody human nor demon could ever disturb the two of you, most usually fear him to much to disturb you anyways.. which he's more than happy about.
# urogi! ☆
Due to him being a clone built on one single emotion its harder for any other emotions to surpass UROGI'S happiness. Even then he doesn't think somebody else would get in the way of you two. You bring him even more happiness than he already has and he does the same for you! Even if he did get jealous, he'd swoop you away before he could properly fall into those feelings
# karaku ! ☆
KARAKU is overconfident when it comes to his self and his romantic abilties, his emotion is pleasure and he's sure he brings you pleasure by just being around him. On occasions he might feel slight irritation but like his bird brother he'd step in and press a kiss onto your lips before dragging you away so you can entertain him. Which is really spending more time together. Besides he flirts with you so much he doubts you would fall for anybody else's flirtatious schemes.
# akaza ! ☆
One of AKAZA'S main motivators is to do better, be stronger and surpass those ahead of him. This motivation can come out as jealousy. He has skills when it comes to romance but he can have his moments where he believes he can do better when it comes to you. Its easier to get under his skin even then he won't really say anything. He'll stay silent about it until he feels like it's time to step in, which happens much more often than he says it does. Though once he feels your hand wrap around his and you flash him with a smile, he's much more at ease
# aizetsu ! ☆
AIZETSU can only really weep and feel sadness so his jealousy might come out more as insecurity. He'll sit in silence moping about whoever's approaching you and you'll have to be the one to notice his jealousy. Once you turn to give him attention and press a soft kiss on his cheeks he'll get a little happier, even shoot you a soft smile after being reassured you love only him.
# daki ! ☆
DAKI gets jealous of a lot of people. Due to where she works at there's many people who come in to observe and stare which most definitely gets on her nerves. She gives many people dirty looks before locking arms with you and immediately taking you somewhere away from their gaze. You'll have to make it up to her by giving her a whole days worth of going on dates and spending time with her. Then she'll be over the annoyance of a customer.
# gyutaro ! ☆
Jealousy runs in the family and GYUTARO most definitely got the most of it. He for one still feels insecure about his apperance and doesn't think he's worthy for you but he also thinks nobody else is worthy of you either. He's definitely mad that he usually can step in and steal you away on the spot but once the two of you are alone he makes sure you're glued to his side and doesn't let you go until he feels reassured that you still love him.
# kaigaku ! ☆
KAIGAKU for the most part just hates people and is annoyed by the majority of people who surround them. Meaning anybody who surrounds you are getting the dirtiest looks and the entitled and annoyed attitude from him. Due to how cocky he is he doesn't believe anybody who approaches you should get off scout free and immediately confronts them. Depending on the situation they usually run away or leave with a few bruises, in return you have to spend time with him and reprimand him for what he's doing.
# sekido ! ☆
Unsurprisingly SEKIDO definitely is the worst. He normally only feels rage and can easily get jealous by the smallest of things. He's immediately reacting and taking whatever or whoever's making him jealous out of the premise at once. After he's going to be much angrier for the whole day. He demands you "fix his mood "which really means peppering his face with kisses and being by his side for the rest of the day
MOST JEALOUS
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#demon slayer x reader#kny x reader#x reader#fluff#kny fluff#@.komoboko writes#kokushibo tsugikuni#kokushibo x reader#douma x reader#akaza x reader#nakime x reader#sekido x reader#karaku x reader#urogi x reader#aizetsu x reader#daki x reader#gyutaro x reader#kaigaku x reader#kokushibo#douma#akaza#sekido#karaku#urogi#aizetsu#daki#gyutaro
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What happens in Vegas... Part 2
18+ No Minors
A/N: guess who finally wrote a long fic!! Well long for me. This was going to be 3 parts but I got carried away. I still could though 😈 also, the Hugh drama with his Broadway costar came back up during this sooooo i wrote it in. Enjoy 😁
Warnings: Accidental marriage, angst, jealously, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it)
Part 1
The next few weeks have flown by quickly as you and Hugh learn more about each other and this new life you both chose to live. The four of you had to leave Vegas early due to the fact someone leaked some pictures from inside the wedding chapel and your hotel was swarmed by paparazzi.
Ryan and Blake reassured you that everything was okay and they was fine going home early because they was ready to see their kids. Even Hugh tried his best to cheer you up but it didn't last long due to the fact your publicists and both of your families were blowing your phones up with questions on your relationship.
As of right now, everybody thinks that the relationship has been under wraps for a while now and you both decided to just elope so until you're ready to discuss it, only Ryan and Blake know the actual details of what happened. Since leaving Vegas, you and Hugh decided it would be a better and safer decision to stay at your house in Colorado instead of his penthouse in New York.
Your place is secluded on a big plot of land and it's been the perfect opportunity for the two of you to get to learn about each other in a more intimate way, minus the kissing and the sex. Don't get it wrong, you want to do those things with him but you both agreed to move slow with this relationship so you're waiting on Hugh to feel comfortable enough to make the first move.
"Y/N, did you hear me?" Hugh asks taping his fork on your plate, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Sorry, I guess I zoned out. What did you say?" You look at him and see a small smile on his face. "I asked what are we going to do when it's time for me to head back to New York since you live here and I live there." He says cutting another piece of steak.
"I've been thinking about that actually and I wanted to talk it over with you. You know how I feel about living in big cities, especially New York.." Hugh nods and you continue, "Would you want to move here and we just keep your place in New York so we could visit? Or we find a house on the outskirts of New York?"
Hugh takes a deep breath and thinks it over for a moment before saying, "You're my home, darling. I will go wherever you go." You feel your heart skip a beat at his words and tears well up in your eyes. "Are you sure? I know how much you love New York." He grabs your hand and nods. "We can visit whenever we want. Since staying here with you, I've become a little spoiled by this secluded farm life you live. I love being here and I love being with you." His voice is sincere and you can't help but feel yourself falling in love with him even more.
"Hugh, I need to tell you something.." You start to say but you're interrupted by his phone going off. Hugh apologizes and answers, standing up and walking away, leaving you with your thoughts.
You almost admitted to this man that you love him and while you're sure he feels the same, you don't know if he's ready to take that step yet. One thing about Hugh Jackman, the man is a flirt with everyone. He's a very smooth talker and he is really easy on the eyes. Would he be willing to give all that up? Would he ever cheat on you when he tires of you?
While you know him as a loyal friend, you don't know him as a partner or a lover. Yes, right now he's saying he's happy with you but what happens once you both go back to work and he has to kiss a girl for a movie? Or do a sex scene with one? You know you're not the best looking woman in Hollywood but you try to at least hold the self confidence of one.
Your eyes search across the room until they land on Hugh and you can't help but admire the way his back muscles look and how his pants fit in just the right places. You need to snap out of this little crush before you wind up hurting yourself and the friendship you two have had for many years.
You're pulled out of your thoughts by Hugh walking back in the dining room, sitting back across from you with a sigh. "That was my agent. They want me to come back to New York and do a Broadway show called The Music Man." He says, looking in your eyes as if trying to see your reaction. "When do they want you to leave?" You ask, trying to be a little nonchalant but you know he can tell you're not happy. "They want me to fly out of here tomorrow and be in rehearsals the next day."
"You should go. It's a great opportunity for you." You say. "Are you sure?" Hugh's eyes widen, shocked at you giving him the opportunity to leave. "I'm not going to stand in the way of this. You love singing and I love seeing you happy. Plus, I can come stay with you once I get things settled here."
Hugh breaks out in a smile, kissing your hand softly before standing up. "Let me go pack and we will spend the rest of the night watching movies and cuddling." He runs off to pack, leaving you sitting at the table by yourself with a heavy heart.
You don't want him to go but you're not the type of person to ruin a great opportunity for anybody, especially Hugh. You just hope he doesn't find somebody else while you're both away from each other.
------
It's been about a month since you've seen Hugh. He had his first show and you was there in the front row happily supporting him but shortly after the show ended, rumors circulated that Hugh was already cheating on you with his co-star, especially after she came out saying they spend a lot of time together in her dressing room. You seen the chemistry on stage between them but you was hoping it was nothing.
Hugh has tried to call and text you for the past couple of weeks but either you've short replied him or just said you was too busy to talk.
You were hurt. You knew it, Hugh knew it, everybody knew it. Ryan and Blake have even tried calling to tell you the rumors weren't true but you just couldn't handle hearing it.
A knock on your door sounds throughout the house and you already know who it is. "Darling, please open the door." Hugh's voice is muffled by the door but you ignore it, feeling the tears well up in your eyes again.
"Baby, please. I promise you nothing happened between me and her. She's just doing it for the publicity." He says, hearing something sliding against the door as he continues, "I know things have been less than ideal with us but the past few months have been the happiest of my life and it's all because of you. I only have eyes for you, even before we got together, it was always you. Ryan used to make fun of me for how in love with you I was and that's never changed. Accidentally marrying you was the best thing I ever did and I would do it all again in a heartbeat. I love you, darling and if you don't want me here then at least tell me that you don't."
Hugh goes silent and you can't help but walk towards the window, seeing him sit with his back against the door wiping at his eyes. You open the door slightly, watching as he stands up quickly to look at you.
"I'm sorry," You whisper, looking into his eyes, "I knew this would happen the day you recieved that phone call to go back to New York. I didn't want you to go but I will never stand in the way of your career. I tried to stop myself from being happy with you, from loving you, but no matter what I do I can't help but fall in love with you even more with each passing day. I ignored you because I was scared the rumors were true and I wanted to protect myself. You're a natural flirt, you do it without even knowing majority of the time and I didn't want to make you change anything about yourself. I love you the way you are but Hugh, I don't want you giving other girls the time of day. Call me selfish, call me whatever but I want you to myself. I want to have kids with you and live on a plot of land away from the spotlight. I love you more than I ever loved anybody and it scares the shit out of me."
Your confession causes the tears to flow as Hugh steps in the house, taking your face in his hands as he wipes the tears away. "I want this. I want you." He whispers, looking down at your lips.
His lips meet yours. Your arms wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, vaguely hearing the door shut as he leads you to the living room, laying you gently on the couch as he slots himself in between your legs.
Your hands find the hem of his shirt, raising it up and over his head as his lips meet yours again, his tongue running across your bottom lip before sliding past and attacking your tongue. A moan escapes your lips,
"Do you want to stop?" He mumbles against your lips. "No." You whisper back and he quickly sits up, removing your clothes before doing the same to his. Your eyes widen, quickly remembering the last time you two had sex was when you both blacked out in Vegas, but Hugh quickly reassures you. "I'll take my time, darling. I'll be easy... today." He smirks, crouching on the ground as he spreads your legs,
Hugh admires your core, as if savoring the whole thing to memory before lowering his head and licking a stripe up your slit, running it over the little nub and teasing it. "Taste so perfect.." He murmmers, wasting no time closing his mouth down and latching onto you as if he's been starved. You gasp as his tongue worked against you with long, calculated strokes, your hand gripping his hair as if your life depended on it as his lips enclose around the sensitive little bud.
You moaned his name loudly, your back arching with each pass of his tongue as the pleasure hits in ways you've never experienced before, your head falling back against the arm of the couch.
His mouth continues it's assault, your legs trembling around him as he pulls you close to your orgasm when you feel two of his fingers slide in, his lips enclosing around your sensitive spot causing you to cry out from the pleasure. He slides a third finger in, pumping his fingers into you as your release rips through you, keeping his mouth on you as he works you through your release.
Your body trembles and you're left breathless, thighs shaking from the intensity of the moment as he sits back to look at you with the most sinister smirk you've ever seen on him. His lips glossy and his hair tousled from what just happened and he leans forward, kissing you deeply to let you taste yourself.
Hugh's hand grabs his base, rubbing the head of his erection against your entrance and you shiver from the sensitivity, moaning softly when he dips his head down towards your breast and takes a nipple in his mouth.
He presses the tip against your wet folds, sliding into you slowly as if to not hurt you. Once he bottoms out, he let's you adjust to his length and when you give him permission to move, he moves slow making each thrust hard and deep. You notice he's holding back though so you decide to remind him not to.
"Hugh," You breathe out, "I won't break.. you can fuck me." Hugh let's out a low growl, placing your legs over his shoulders as he starts pounding into you, the force causing the couch to slightly move and your fingers to dig in his forearms.
His thrusts continue to go deep as you watch his head fall back from the pleasure, his mouth slightly open and low moans fall from within. "Fuck, I knew you were made for me... your pussy was made to be all mine.." He grunts, leaning down to sloppily kiss you, pressing your knees to your chest. "I'm never letting you go after this. You own me now, baby." His voice is full of promise and you kiss him again, holding on tightly to his shoulders while he continues his hard, brutal pace.
"Hugh... I'm close.." You choke out against his lips and he smirks at you. "Come for me baby." He says angling his hips just slightly, memorizing your face as you release all over his cock, moaning softly when he hears his name fall from your lips.
He continues his pace, chasing his own release. You clenching around him pulling him closer and closer, finally releasing deep inside of you and a deep growl erupting from him. Hugh rides out both of your releases, thrusting slowly inside of you for a few minutes before finally pulling out, both of you moaning softly at the feeling.
Hugh grabs you and pulls you on top of him, holding you close as he kisses the top of your head and you play with his chest hair. "I meant it, darling. After today, you own me. I don't want anybody else." He softly says, looking down at you. "I'm all yours too. Especially after that." You say with a chuckle, causing him to chuckle to.
"Will you marry me, again?" Hugh asks and you lift your head up to look at him. "I know it's not the most romantic time but we agreed we would do a ceremony if we chose to be together. I want to marry you and say our vows, this time with us both remembering it."
"I would marry you in every lifetime." You say, kissing him softly.
For the first time since Vegas, you finally feel like everything is falling into place and you are extremely happy for the future with Hugh.
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Tim responded to Jason’s taunt by giving him the middle finger and trying to kick his ass.
Tim and Jason had a few more confrontations after that, and Jason started getting suspicious why Tim was quiet.
When Jason found out, it was because he came to family dinner. Upon seeing Tim use sign to speak, he asked “Hold on, why are you using sign? I’ve heard you speak before.”
Bruce explains that Jason made Tim mute. Jason’s eyes widen and he immediately apologizes. He wanted to hurt Tim but not permanently, though saying that as an apology does not make anyone feel better.
Jason immediately takes sign classes. He doesn’t tell anyone he’s doing this, he just does it. He makes all of his goons learn sign too (because “it’s useful to communicate silently!” and totally not because he wants his brother to be able to be understood, nope, not at all).
Jason, once he’s fluent in sign, gives Tim a full apology in sign language. And I mean an actually good apology, not one that feels half assed or empty. He genuinely is sorry and he feels bad for hurting Tim at all, much less that badly. He should’ve kept Tim out of it and he knows that now.
Any time Tim’s trying to talk to someone and they don’t understand sign, Jason steps up to translate without being asked. Then he ends the conversation by telling the person to learn sign and handing them a small business card looking thing with resources to learn sign. Yes, he carries these around at all times.
He insists that the rest of Bats get fluent. They’re about 90% fluent on their own but they’re busy people and can’t dedicate enough time to it. Jason sits them down and makes them finish learning it. Then he starts insisting that they all get cameras like Tim’s and use that for comms so that they can communicate silently when needed. Because being able to communicate when you need to be stealthy is an asset (and also it makes Tim feel less alone if they’re all doing it).
Jason ends up teaching ASL to street kids in the alley so that they can communicate with each other and outsiders who don’t know sign won’t understand. It also means that they can talk to Tim if he needs to ask them questions for a case. (Previously he’d been using the same hand-to-speech software for interrogations.)
The city has begun noticing that one of their heroes is mute. They brag to other cities that “not only are our heroes so cool that they can handle things without powers, but they also don’t even have to be able-bodied!” A lot of Gothamites start learning sign too, so that they can communicate with their hero. Within two years, it becomes a common method of communication in Gotham (which Jason has had a large part in pushing, since he and his goons have started offering to teach people and he’s still handing out the online learning resource cards to people in Gotham). Jason also starts a small YouTube channel called “ASL with RH” and he teaches Gothamites name signs so that everyone’s using the same ones. All of the rogues, well-known figures like Commissioner Gordon, other heroes like Superman, and even celebrities like Bruce Wayne all get public name signs that Gothamites who learned sign all know.
Sign becomes a common way to distinguish outsiders and Gothamites. 75% of people in the city know sign and they will use it to talk about commonly known secrets. (Such as “Gordon totally knows who the bats are.” Y’know, shit that’s practically common knowledge in Gotham but outsiders are clueless about.)
Within five years, the whole city knows sign. Tim Drake, who was out of the public eye for a while when the injury happened and later reappeared using sign, doesn’t even have to tell people he’s mute. Gothamites just assume he prefers sign now. (The WE board knows he’s mute and were among the first people to learn sign. WE paid for a professional training course for the entire company to learn sign rather than just recommending them to like YouTube videos or whatever. Everyone in the company learns basic phrases they might need to talk to Tim, and the board learns all of the business language words in sign too, and they can optionally become fluent which they all choose to do because otherwise they have to wait for Tim to type his thoughts out into text to speech and that’s annoying to wait for.) Some Gothamites think Tim is now mute, especially conspiracy theorists who think the Waynes are the bats. Others think he’s just trying to push people to learn sign to support deaf and mute people because the Waynes do love doing charity.
Idk, I just think Gotham would absolutely love and support their mute vigilante
The Titans tower attack and everything plays out the same except Jason hits his throat just slightly differently causing Tim to lose use of his vocal chords and go fully mute
Luckily, sign language was already slowly being learned in the manor due to Cass struggling to speak some days, so he already knew basic phrases
the major issue with his newfound mutism is using the comms
the comms are entirely functioning by voice, and without one, youre kinda screwed
Tim attempts to go out with no comms a couple times which makes Bruce very mad so he has to come up with another solution, he ends up installing a camera and chip into his domino so that the camera can pick up his hands and the chip can interpret them and read rhem out to the comms
one day while tim is out as Robin, he ends up confronting the red hood
tim is obviously silent, but instead of Jason noticing this, he chooses to almost tease Tim about it, not knowing the extent of the damage he caused, “what? too scared to even say anything to me now?”
its not until Jason starts to rejoin the family that he learns what happened to Tim that night
#I’m either writing this or begging you to send me your version#if someone who knows sign and can describe signs in writing writes this#that would be AMAZING
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StonerBF!SKZ HCs
StonerBF!SKZ Headcannons ♡︎
(I’m writing this while high, so I’m sorry if it doesn’t make sense lololololol)
Warnings: Drug usage obviously? A teensy bit of smut.
Bangchan:
- 1/3 of StonerRacha ♡︎
- Is incredibly clean with it, like he has a box of pre rolled blunts under his bed with a few extra papers and baggies of weed.
- Gets so flirty when he’s high, but not the cute, shy, awkward flirty that he normally is - no, when Chan is high, it’s a whole new man flirting with you.
- Your sweet Channie is gone, Chrizz is here.
- He sits there, staring at you with a certain look in his eye, not a horny look, just pure, filled with love but it’s a darker love, almost deeper than what he shows to you normally.
- When he’s high, he’s too lazy to be on top of you, so cowgirl is the go to position for stoner!chan.
- He’ll just let you use him, almost numb to the feeling of your cunt due to the weed, but the way you look, sweat glistening as you bounce up and down, desperately trying to get off on him, that makes all of that feeling come back.
- The effect of the weed makes his orgasm feel 10x better.
- Loves when you smoke too, because the way you look like when your high, there’s nothing cuter to him.
- Gets high about 3 times a week if he’s not busy
Lee Know:
- Also very clean with his stash, practically the same as Chan, though his stash sits in his closet, he can’t let the cats get into it (like that time when Dori got into his stash and got taken to the vet with blown out pupils and purring relentlessly.)
- Doesn’t let you light your own blunt, he lets you place your own between your lips as he lights it for you.
- However, he would prefer to share it…
- HUGE FAN OF SHOTGUNNING!
- His personality doesn’t really change much, he just gets a lot more giggly.
- Like tell him a stupid dad joke and he’ll start cackling.
- LOVES high sex!!! Probably the most out of all the members.
- He’ll be really slow and gentle when he’s high and fucking you, almost as if he’s making love to you, but he insists it’s only because he’s tired and HEY, he always makes love to you what are you talking about?!
- Very safe if you decide to smoke with him, won’t smoke more than a single joint just in case he needs to go anywhere for you
- Gets high 2 to 5 times a month depending on stress
Changbin:
- 2/3 of StonerRacha ♡︎
- His stash depends on his mindset at the time: if he’s stressed out, he’ll just pull out his pre rolled blunts and won’t bother to roll more, if he’s chilling, he’ll roll extra whilst he has one hanging out his mouth.
- Changbin gets the munchies so bad (just like me fr 🤞)
- Will eat anything in the house
- Once he got high and accidentally ate some weed brownies that Felix made, and then got more high, but did not care because those brownies were bomb asf
- So dazed
- Another one who loves when you ride him when he’s high, will have his hands on your hips or will suck your tits but probably both
- The first time you asked if you could get high with him, he almost died. He was so cute about it too, held the blunt to your lips and lit it for you.
- Needs you close constantly
- Not the biggest fan of high sex because he gets so sleepy (once he did actually fall asleep and you didn’t notice until you had finish… how did he cum and still manage to stay asleep?)
- Gets high 2 times on weekdays, but spends his entire weekend hotboxed
Hyunjin:
- Also a clean stasher, keeps it under his bed like Chan
- Doesn’t enjoy smoking so he ended up making edibles
- Is such a cutie (as if he isn’t when he’s not high)
- He’s so smily and dazed
- Sleeps so good after being high and is even happier when he wakes up
- Enjoys painting when he’s high, but sometimes he loses train of thought and they end up looking abstract 😭
- Loves worshipping you
- You know how Changbin gets really hungry when he’s high? Well Hyunjin does too, but not for food
- Would eat your pussy until the effects of the weed go away
- Was a little hesitant when you first asked to join him, however getting high together ended up becoming routine
- Gets high 2 times a week
Han Jisung:
- THE KING OF STONERRACHA!!!
- Yes 3Racha is StonerRacha, what of it?
- Han’s a messy stasher, doesn’t pre roll, doesn’t track, just has his papers and his baggies and rolls when he wants (which is almost every day.)
- Gets pissed off at himself when he runs out of papers or weed, but doesn’t do anything about it.
- He smokes the most and yet can’t roll for shit.
- Asks Minho to roll for him.
- Another sleepy stoner.
- You once found him asleep in an empty bathtub, and neither of you knew why.
- A real cutie </3
- Rambles on about how special you are, how pretty and cute you are and how he’s so lucky to have you.
- He just really loves you so much.
- Has a weed vape.
- Acted chill about you wanting to smoke, but freaked out on the inside.
- As horny as Jisung gets, he gets way too distracted to have high sex.
Felix:
- You don’t even know he’s a stoner until you find his stash, which ends up being a box of brownies at the back of the SKZ fridge that’s labelled ‘Felix’s Brownies. Please Don’t Touch.’ with a cute heart and chick drawn onto it.
- You reconned that you’re his partner, so he wouldn’t care if you had one.
- You were fine until you were lying on the floor for an hour.
- Lixie was so worried when he saw you laying there, but when you explained the situation, he told you that you were high and he helped you get through it.
- He’s too cute when he’s high.
- The man just loves a sweet treat, so why not get high simultaneously?
- Honestly, loves oral when he’s high.
- Please suck his dick, he’ll cum so good
- A baker in both ways
- He’ll eat you out but he gets sleepy so you’ll have to pat his cheek so he stays awake
- Gets high once a week, unless he can’t sleep, he’ll get high so he can sleep too.
Seungmin:
- Seungminnie isn’t a fan of getting high imo
- It’s you who gets him into it
- Doesn’t really keep a stash, or claims to anyway, it’s rather your stash that sits in the little pink box in his sock drawer
- Likes taking care of you as if he’s not as baked as you are rn
- Kisses you so much
- Tries to roast you but can’t because he’s just gone
- Didn’t think about high sex until you initiated it, now it’s secretly his favourite thing
- Yk when Seungmo just has that look where there’s nothing behind his eyes and he looks so lost and it’s so cute, he’s just :0, that’s him when he’s high
- Likes when you lie on top of him
- A real cutie pie
- Again, never gets high unless you want to, or unless he’s really stressed and can’t get a hold of another vice
Jeongin:
- His stash is clean, but it’s hidden really well.
- Hates smelling of weed so he keeps a frebreeze bottle in his room and also dowses himself in cologne.
- So smily and so gentle.
- Like HES SO CUTE I JUST WANNA SQUISH HIM!!!
- You’ll have to initiate high sex with him.
- So focused when he fucks you.
- Never lets you on top, it’s always missionary when he’s high.
- Sings loudly.
- Likes doing skincare when he’s high, whenever he’s planning to smoke with you he asks you to bring round all your face masks and lotions and stuff.
- Gets so needy when you aren’t around and ends up spamming you with texts.
- Only gets high a few times a month, but depending on how often you want to do it, he’ll always join you.
#slvtforoldermen#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids#bangchan smut#lee know smut#seo changbin smut#hwang hyunjin smut#han jisung smut#lee felix smut#kim seungmin smut#yang jeongin smut#skz smut#kpop smut
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you're so lame
summary: Daryl goes on a run and returns home to a sweet reward.
pairing: daryl dixon x f!reader (established relationship)
word count: 951
era: pre-negan alexandria
warnings: not proofreading. fluff is a warning itself.
divider by @/saradika-graphics
a/n: i think this is more of a drabble and not a one shot, but i hope you enjoy it anyways ! it was inspired on this video.
taglist: @vaniniweenie
Generally, ever since the world went to shit, no one was allowed to have a bad day. If you were in danger, you had to protect yourself, hunt for food, or fight off some walker if you were unlucky... Or fight off other people, if your luck was even worse. If you lived behind a wall that protected you from the outside, you still had to go get food. Being considered one of the leaders forced you to put yourself at risk for the good of your community.
Well, Daryl hated being considered a leader.
Don't get him wrong, being a hunter was one of the things he was best at, and if you asked him a few years ago, he preferred to be in the comfort of the woods, in solitude.
Well, that changed since you came into his life.
From the prison to Alexandria, neither of you even imagined the idea of being friends. You came with Michonne and, unlike her, your nature was much more easy going and friendly, kind, seemingly naive. Daryl prejudged you all that time, until you proved to be loyal to the group, and you didn't hesitate to cut off a head or two. His attraction to you grew more every day, and who was he to fight against that? Well, he avoided the feeling for a long time... Until the tranquility of Alexandria came. It was enough to live under the same roof and have a bed to share every night, and that's when he knew he didn't want anything else for his life. Yes, he still knew how to move in the woods alone, but he also knew he was home when he had his arms around you on a cold autumn morning.
As soon as his walkie rang that morning, with Rick's voice urging him to get up, his mood changed drastically. He was usually a grumpy man, but it made him even worse to be insistently woken up when he didn't want to do something. He just hoped his call hadn't woken you up.
"Babe?" He heard behind him, your sleepy voice making itself heard in the room.
Rick's a dead man.
"Go back to sleep, sunshine. I gotta go." He replied as quietly as he could, turning to look at you. With his elbow on the pillow, his free hand came up to your face, caressing your cheek softly as a smile appeared on your lips, eyes barely open.
"Be careful out there, okay?" You told him, your hand on his while leaning into his touch. There was no better way to wake up.
"Always am, babe." He assured you, leaving a short kiss on your lips before getting out of bed. "Got any plans for today?"
Before answering, you rubbed your eyes, yawning as you sat up on the bed. "I should probably get up too. I promised Carol to help her with kitchen stuff, might do some desserts if we can."
Daryl listens intently, nodding as he finishes getting dressed, placing his crossbow on his back, which rested propped up right next to his nightstand. Leaning over the bed, he kissed your lips once more.
"Don't burn anythin'" He said, leaving the room and closing the door before the pillow could hit him.
...
The run had been better than they expected. They managed to get food, some medicine, and warm clothes to get the community through the winter without any problems. As he was making his way into the house that you shared, he couldn't help but smell the sweet aroma that was in the air, indicating that you had indeed managed to make those desserts you promised. As he took off his boots at the entrance of the house and left his crossbow aside, he walked into the kitchen, listening to you hum under your breath as you worked on the counter, a few candles lighting up beyond the light on in the kitchen.
"Glad you ain't burn anythin'" He exclaimed, making you turn around startled, a hand on your chest as you closed your eyes, while Daryl rolled his. Such a drama queen.
"You scared the crap out of me, Dixon. You're lucky I love you." You said, walking over to him as you placed your arms around his neck, scanning his face for any possible bruises or scratches, but finding none, while his hands rested on your hips, watching you with the same attention as you watched him. "Made it home safe and sound, I see."
"Had to, m'wife woulda kill me if I didn't." He replied, a smile threatening to appear on his lips. Looking behind you, he noticed a cake with something written on it, making him squint. "What's that?"
"Oh! I made a cake and managed to write something for you." You said excitedly, moving away so you could take the cake in your hands and bring it to him.
Who wants to eat anyways? Ew.
Daryl tilted his head, taking a step back as he blinked in disbelief. "I don't..."
"I got the wrong cake. Fuck, I'm sorry."
As you set that cake aside, you went to get the one in the fridge, presenting it to him the same way you did with the last one.
Congrats on the successful run, hunter!
There were few times that you had been able to hear Daryl laugh out loud, but this time, you had achieved it without hesitation. His laughter being too contagious, you laughed too, covering your mouth as he rested his hands on his knees, shaking his head.
"Yer lucky I love you, woman. As lame as you are an' everything'"
#🍃—arieswrites#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x female reader#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#twd daryl dixon#twd daryl
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The solution is to build up power inside our local communities outside of capitalism by getting involved with (or starting) an organization seeking to do that. We have to look to Leftist organizers for guidance. We have to look to historical Leftist strikes, resistances, and rebellions and learn from them, critically sifting through the actions of the past in order to not make the same mistakes.
“Be A Revolution: How Everyday People are Changing the World and You Can Too” by Ijeoma Oluo is an AWESOME book to read if you are feeling hopeless, drained, or are looking for how to start. One thing Oluo helped me with was realizing how capitalist-fucked my imagination was— every solution I could think of was a half-measure and I always felt overwhelmingly unsatisfied at the progress that my imagined solution could affect. Once you realize how powerful imagination is, you realize how we need to weaponize it as a means of deradicalizing people out of the death cults of fascism and capitalism, and you realize just how possible that really is. The first thing you’ll need to do when organizing is convincing other people to have hope— which is to imagine a better future.
Oluo also relays a LOT of accounts of how specific people went about starting organizations in response to the terrible conditions they were experiencing. There are men who are working against the patriarchy in prison— teaching their fellow men about how they’ve been trapped in a cage of toxic masculinity before ever being imprisoned. There are people dedicated to teaching about hierarchy and the functions of oppression. I haven’t finished it yet but the accounts I’ve read so far have changed everything for me.
So, what can you do?
First off:
Take care of yourself. You matter in so many ways to the cause— more than what you can do to make change, you are a beacon for people around you. You are a lover, a friend, a comrade. We must care for ourselves because we are loved and valued and losing us will only add to the despair people are already contending with. We must remind ourselves and each other that people are relying on us and not better off if we’re gone.
Focus on the humanity of the people around you. Are you surrounded by republicans? Focus on your mutual interests and don’t assert your differences— people will work with you while still calling themselves conservatives, so take advantage of that. You don’t have to be friends with everyone in the movement, even if having friends already engaging in direct action makes it way easier to do so yourself. Remember our goal is not ideological purity— it’s affecting change and change is all about numbers.
Keep moving further Left and continue questioning authority. These problems have been going on for hundreds of years, and they were never going to be solved by a system that exists to arbitrarily prevent people from access to human needs. We must look to the people who have already been in the fight rather than continue deferring to politicians.
If you’re able:
Volunteer at any local organization that is providing food or shelter— even if they are conservative, volunteer. Having that volunteer experience can help you see how those organizations are structured and who in your community is being failed by them.
Start an org for needs that aren’t being met in your local community. Start as small as you can, even as simple as starting a community garden in your backyard. It will snowball if it is helping people.
Find a spot to set up a free store. We all have stuff we don’t need anymore, instead of selling it or giving it to a thrift store, give it away to someone.
Print posters and zines and hand them out outside of high schools. We need to be engaging in tactics that work to bring young people further left and a part of that is simply informing them.
And since this is not a comprehensive list, continue seeking out radical solutions from authors and activists who have dedicated their whole life to studying and explaining. Look to the people who have been doing grass-roots organizing for years.
If you’re disabled:
spread information about how oppression functions and how to organize an assembly— you can explain to people who don’t have the time to study or who have a learning disability that make it difficult to parse the thousands of words that are used in explanation. Synthesizing info so that it is accessible to all is CRITICAL
start an artist coalition with friends and make provocative art that makes people think twice about all this shit. People are not aware of what their options are. They are also just trying to survive under capitalism.
share your knowledge on essential skills with your friends (gardening, opsec/infosec, conflict resolution, etc.) There are people who are working in these orgs that could use the expertise that you have.
Books on my TBR that could be helpful:
They Will Beat the Memory Out of Us: Forcing Nonviolence on Forgetful Movements by Peter Gelderloos
The Solutions are Already Here: Strategies for Ecological Revolution from Below by Peter Gelderloos
Beyond Cop Cities: Dismantling State and Corporate-Funded Armies and Prisons edited by Joy James
Renters Unite: How Tenant Unions Are Fighting the Housing Crisis by Jacob Stringer
Against Technoableism: Rethinking Who Needs Improvement by Ashley Shew
Let This Radicalize You: Organizing and the Revolution of Reciprocal Care by Mariame Kaba, Kelly Hayes, Maya Schenwar
Surviving the Future: Abolitionist Queer Strategies by Shuli Branson, Raven Hudson, Bry Reed
We Do This 'Til We Free Us: Abolitionist Organizing and Transforming Justice by Mariame Kaba, Tamara K Nopper, Naomi Murakawa
Becoming Abolitionists: Police, Protests, and the Pursuit of Freedom by Derecka Purnell
Unbuild Walls: Why Immigrant Justice Needs Abolition by Silky Shah, Amna A Akbar
A People's Guide to Abolition and Disability Justice by Katie Tastrom
is this fucking SATIRE??????????????????????
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sugarcoated brain [teaser]
⏯ teaser word count: 723 | full fic: 13.7k ⏯ genre: punk band frontman!shotaro, venue manager!reader, shotaro is whipped, reader is emotionally unavailable, is it a slowish burn or is it angst?, whatever it is ur reading a starlightkun fic so there’s a happy ending :), ft. eunseok/sungchan/wonbin as shotaro’s bandmates welcome back boys & wayv as reader’s coworkers ⏯ warnings: not necessarily a warning but since i do generally avoid describing the reader’s appearance in my fics, i wanted to give a heads up—reader works at a punk/alternative concert venue and is generally in/around that scene. reader is mentioned and/or implied to have some tattoos and piercings (other than earlobes) ⏯ extra info: set in the same universe as filler episodes, but u don’t need to read that in order to understand this one, filler eps!sungchan and sugarcoated!shotaro r just in the same band! also the title is from a 5sos song lol ⏯ estimated release: saturday, november 16, 2024 3:00 p.m. eastern time
“Is that sanitary?” Eunseok’s voice announced Roses for Eyes’ arrival that particular afternoon, as you sat atop the bar counter, scrolling on your phone in one of your few moments of peace and quiet around Venue:Hell.
“Kiss my ass, Eunseok,” you replied without even looking up.
“Yeah, I’ll get in line,” he retorted, making Sungchan and Wonbin laugh.
That finally prompted you to slide your gaze up, just in time to see the three of them laughing over by the stage as Shotaro flipped them all off over his shoulder, making his way towards you. He had two cups in one hand, one with a bright green straw in it, and the other without a straw, and you saw that the other three band members each had a plastic cup with a straw sticking out of them as well. You silently watched Shotaro approach, raising an eyebrow at him once he’d stopped in front of you.
“We were getting boba on our way here, and thought we’d grab you one, too.” His cheeks were a bright pink as he held the unopened cup out to you, and fished a packaged purple straw out from the front pocket of his black jean jacket.
“Who’s this ‘we’ that you’re talking about?” You asked humorously. “They all apparently think getting me boba is kissing my ass.”
Shotaro straightened up, puffing his chest out. “Actually, yeah. Fuck ‘em. I got you one because I thought it’d be nice to get you one too since you do so much for us every week. It’s uh-It’s honey milk tea, because I didn’t know what flavor you liked.”
“Thank you, Shotaro.” You accepted the cup and straw from him graciously, to a chorus of snickers from the spectators on the other side of the floor. “Honey milk tea is more than acceptable.”
“But it’s not your favorite?”
“I don’t have a favorite.” You set the cup on the bartop beside you to stab the straw into it.
“You—Hey, are those mine?” He seemed to have finally noticed the sunglasses perched atop your head.
“What? These?” You teased, tapping the plastic accessory arm on one side of your head.
“I was looking for those today!”
You took them off, offering them out towards him. “You left them here last week.”
Shotaro took the glasses just to turn them right back around, take a step closer to you, and place them back on your head, a fond smile on his face as he did so. “I think you look better in them, actually. You can hold onto them for a little longer.”
You swallowed, your chest suddenly feeling too tight for your heart, and six eyes suddenly feeling like way too many to be in the room with you two right now. You chuckled, trying to keep up the congenial tone as you once more pulled them off. This time, you folded the arms and tucked the sunglasses into Shotaro’s jacket pocket for him. “Thanks, Shotaro, but I can’t take your sunglasses. They’re really rockstar sunglasses anyway, not for someone like me.”
At that moment, you grabbed your boba tea and hopped off the bar, scooting out from between him and the counter. You avoided looking at the others, beelining for the back office.
When Shotaro had to come get his in-ears from you just a few minutes later, you gave him the same pleasant smile as usual, handing him the case. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He tapped the case against his palm, the sound dampened by the fingerless gloves he was wearing that day. “What did you mean? When you said someone like you.”
“Wh—About the sunglasses?” You’d hardly expected him to confront you about that comment at all, much less alone now, just you and him in the office, no peanut gallery. While six eyes had felt like too many, this felt far too intimate. You somehow felt more exposed than before. “Like I said—They’re cool rockstar sunglasses, that’s what you are. You should wear them you know, up on stage, being all cool and stuff. I’m crew; no point in me wearing them while I’m sitting back here where nobody can see them.”
He frowned, but thankfully didn’t try to give them to you again. “I think you’re cool, Y/N.”
With that, he left the office.
⤷ masterlist
#shotaro x reader#riize x reader#shotaro#shotaro imagine#riize imagine#nct x reader#riize#osaki shotaro#shotaro imagines#riize imagines#nct imagine#nct imagines#i: shotaro#f: sugarcoated brain#scb: teaser#writing#text#mine#taro
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Love, maybe ? | Sjy ❤︎ 엔.하.이.픈 💌
Paring: Jake X M!reader | Genre: Fluff&Soft .
Synopsis: Base on 'love maybe' by bbm~
Cw: Non.
Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st
This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio
A❤︎N: Been a week now so I'm back with Jake fluff fic 🥹 idea never come across my mind for a while, hoping you can enjoy also some parts may be error, bare with meh.
"This must be love, baby. Cause I never felt quite this way—
I think this is love, baby. Get weak when you call' my name—" ♫︎ Pause
"Hey M/n! Wanna go play basketball with me ? We need one last person are you in?"
Suddenly, you did. The way his voice was calling for you, alluring, floating, in your ears just making you feel weak in your knees. Think this is love? Maybe?
"Cause oh? Something bout' the way you make me feel like-" ♫︎
"M/n M/n!! I heard the new restaurant downtown has the best steak review, could you go check it out with me? My treat, you going mate? No? But I'll take that as a yes come on" Jake take hold of your hand, intertwine together as once, dragging his feet to his destination where he could show you his favorite thing without knowing, He was your favorite thing, even when you didn't even tell him yet.
"I don't know why, can't control it take hold of me— is this for real?" ♫︎
Sleep less night, boring night when you didn't get any good night text from him. Isn't it weird that you'd be crazy by waiting for his text on your notification? Though you and Jake are just buddies and nothing else. Somehow it makes you insane, no? Whether it'd affect your friendship with him or not, this is driving you silly, can't bottle your feelings any longer as you decide, your life for now.
Confession?
Yes or No
"I give up, just take my HeaRt—" ♫︎
The unexpected night out with Jake, after the prom party, you and Jake decide to go back home together. It was a peaceful night, the clear sky making the moon light shine bright across the whole city and pavement, making it feel safer than ever. Before reaching home, Jake decided he'd gaze at the lake a bit, it was his favorite place after all, under the big willow tree and a single bench.
The moon, reflection on the soothing streaming lake, is both comfort and nostalgia at the same time. As he sat down, taking his time to restore his battery. And so did you.
Two boys sat on the same bench under the big willow tree while viewing the scenario in front of them. You get the deja Vu feeling when you were a kid, sitting alone, feel better that nobody could ever make you feel enough like this.
Also this is the perfect timing, the perfect place that you could pour all of your heart into anything, the bottle heart that is begging to be able to be free right here, and so is the person In front of you, he was the one who made you feel like this all along, should you take a risk ? On the other hand, you thought this was probably the last you could be close to him because, who knows how Jake would answer and respond to your confession? Would he like boy? Would he still be the same with you after you confess? Would he love you back?
"Jake? Can I tell you something, from my mind?"
"Yea... No need to be shy, tell me everything" Jake state, throwing rock to the surface of water, not spare any glance just yet, enjoying the atmosphere.
"you sure we'd be the same if I tell you how I feel?"
"oh come on M/n nothing could go worse, with me I'm Jake" Jake snort under his breath, as he continues what he's doing, probably would not expect what could come at him.
"I like you Jake! And I hate that... I know you'd never like boy, and I know I shouldn't like you but I can't help at how you make me feel even though in fact, we're best friends. I'm sorry" You explain, already prepared how the outcome would reveal. Stare blankly at the lake, knowing too well Jake is catching off guard by your statement right now.
Your intuition is correct, Jake catches his air stuck in his throat. The last thing he worries about is happening right now, beside him, near him, and close to him. Yet he knows, that he can't be overrated at your confession. But his body didn't cooperate with him well, Jake's heart stuttered, a rush of warmth spreading through him as your words settled in the air between them. You liked him. And the truth was—he felt the same.
He calmly replied.
"weird, isn't it? took you long enough to catch up." Jake paused, letting the silence build just enough to make you wonder.
"I’ve been on the same page this whole time."
"same page? Which mean— *gasp*"
"I like you too, idiot"
"Cause I don't know what else to blame— no" ♫︎
#enhypen#enha x male reader#enhypen x male reader#jake fluff#jake x reader#enhypen jake#jake sim#jake#enha jake#enha#enha x reader#enha fluff#enhypen fluff#enha imagines#enha x you#enhypen scenarios#kpop x male reader#enha scenarios#enha fanfic#enhypen fanfiction
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KNY Fandom so fucking insufferable I'm gonna start behaving like those GiyuShino and SaneKana shippers and go around spreading misinformation and say "no you don't get it SaneGiyuu was implied!!!" /j
because I'd actually have more content to mention without even mischaracterizing them
wanna talk about how they're a two-faced mirror? almost as if they were written to parallel each other and there's so much to talk about on this matter
or, since not everyone in this Fandom can dive into analysis, wanna mention how Shinobu figured Sanemi could've made Giyuu smile by inviting him to eat his fav dish with him? why not ask him directly instead? why Sanemi out of all people?
wanna mention Sanemi's pseudo-obsession on that man? he disliked his ass, but if we go back to analysis, his intolerance to someone feeling superior can be tied to a multitude of factors and one of which is being low-key reminded of himself, and he loathes himself while at the same time he puts on that strong façade. he can't face it though. and he wanted to understand why Giyuu felt that way SO BADLY he went to him for training and tried to speak with him, he wanted a contact, he wanted to understand, he needed Giyuu to speak up but he didn't.
on the other hand don't we wanna talk about Giyuu's perspective? Giyuu never hated him nor did he really feel sad knowing he disliked him, contrary to how he felt towards Obanai. not to mention he even got to be sarcastic towards Sanemi's dumb ass at least twice.
and the iconic ohagi scene? idk about y'all but between the hashira I think that's THE iconic scene, alongside Giyuu and Shinobu beefing and Shinobu almost stabbing him (don't get me wrong platonic GiyuShino has my whole heart)
the first time we saw Giyuu smile in the series is while imagining to befriend Sanemi??? and out of everyone he chose Sanemi? the hashira who is canonically the most difficult to talk with?😭 he only ever smiled either for food, for Sanemi or Tanjiro
oh and let's not talk about how Tanjiro, after getting knocked up, wakes up and the first thing Giyuu says is "yeah Shinazugawa left" ..? or the whole novel chapter in which they end up talking about him (supposedly right after that scene in the manga) and Giyuu cheered up. what
anyways, likewise, the first time Sanemi was seen smiling genuinely outside of his family was with Giyuu. Obanai and especially Masachika were both closer to him, not to mention the most important person in his life, Genya...yet here we are ig?? (after Giyuu he also smiled more in general, the scene of him smiling at Nezuko was one of my fav panels ever so keep in mind I'm taking in consideration the chronological events and not the impact of the scenes per se)
or let's talk about the most important part in their development which is when they fought together.
Sanemi saving him, telling him not to zone out while throwing the sword at him, it made Giyuu realize he's the water hashira, it was the first time Giyuu acknowledged it. Sanemi influenced Giyuu's character positively, and so far Tanjiro was the only other one who managed to. Sanemi saw him as his ally (rightfully so), and hopefully seeing him fight also made him realize he wasn't that much of a conceited guy, he was just like him, as he initially wanted Giyuu to understand (despite the fact it was a miscommunication)
Sanemi teaming up with Giyuu out of everyone, in such an impactful panel.... idk, if it was a straight ship that would've felt like a confession for the Fandom 💀
they impacted each other's character, they were the only two hashira surviving after facing the same war, they faced similar struggles during their lives (but let's not get into analysis, once again...), they could've understood each other better than anyone else would ever have, and they ended up bonding and eating together
that panel was there, in the middle of other panels all portraying important bonds, whether canon romantic bonds or platonic and sibling-like ones (Tanjiro and Nezuko, the Kamaboko squad, the swordsmiths etc.)
if it wasn't important it wouldn't have been there, but the funniest thing is that if either of them was a woman it would've been considered canon since it also included TanKana, ZenNezu and InoAoi🙏🏻
but oh, if we try to name either of these things and more, people will rightfully say "can't they be friends anymore?", which is valid, but I wonder why this doesn't apply to equally fanon straight ships.
a show so peak has so many fans that are so dense😭😭😭
#kny#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#sanegiyuu#giyuusane#sanemi x giyuu#kny ships#sanemi#giyuu#sanemi shinazugawa#giyuu tomioka#toxic shippers#i hate y'all sm#platonic sanekana#platonic giyushino#they're just so peak#am i talking about sanegiyuu or about platonic giyushino and platonic sanekana?#the answer is both#I need more m/f friendships in media bc I can't take this shit anymore
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Oh look! Another occasion to babbles about the mechs!
The story Out is terrible for me hard to read (hate sad ending) but soooo interesting. So here's three thoughts (aka fanfiction ideas) I have about it!
First one: How Aurora works. Not like... how mechanically she works or how a moon/ship can have blood and teeth. But in a way of: how did she "transitionned" (I don't have a better word in my vocabulary) from organic moon to metallic ship.
How does it feel? How do your conscious work? Is opening a door, changing the temperature, activating reactors, the same thing as flexing a finger for us?
My idea is Aurora could be compared as a mecha, but she had fused with it. The mecha became part of her body in a way. She has her own conscious, she can control everything aboard, but not in a God way. More like she was sitting in a room surrounded by screen, computers, buttons and switches. Metaphorically of course.
Over the centuries, she became really good at keeping an eye at all the screens. At managing all the buttons and switches. At making quick researchs on the computers.
But she's still one concious forced to fuse with a machine she is foreign to. She can't focus on all the screens at once, she can't activates all buttons and switches, and she can’t make infinite researches at the same time.
So. It means that on the outside, Aurora is not organic. She's a machine. A machine that can be fixed, repaired, changed, and put new programs in.
But it also means that fundamentally, she is organic. She is messy like the beings Nastya doesn't like (cf gender rebels). She can break up with her. She can choose to go save a mortal if she wants to. She is still the little moon Carmilla raised.
Nastya's ability to consider relationship with machines to the same level of telationship with organic beings is a true blessing for her. Because she is stuck in this weird inbetween of considering herself like an organic beings, but being seen as a machine by everyone around her. The mechs included. Except Nastya, who doesn't care if she is a machine: she loves Aurora.
That brought us to the second thought: Nastya actually cares. Deeply. Too much.
Like we know, Nastya finds organic beings messy and unpredictable. And like OP said, Nastya grew up in a world where machines is more familiar than anything else for her.
I think for a long time, Nastya pretended that Aurora is purely a machine. She talks about improving her ai, she calls her "the aurora, our starship", and never corrects anyone on that fact.
She lashes on her because Aurora was familiar, safe, and honestly between murderous Jonny, vampire Carmilla, and starship Aurora, she was the most capable of understanding toward Nastya.
But Aurora wasn't cyberian. In fact, cyberians were her abusers. So, even if she loves Nastya dearly and will never totally go back to her moon-self, it's understandable that she tries to get back what had been stripped off her. Her autonomy, her independance, her sense of self. First by acting like organic being with Nastya (cf break up), then my making choices by herself (saving Briar Rose) and finally by replacing cyberian on her.
And Nastya cares. She cares about that cyberian part. Way more than Aurora anticipated. Because for Nastya, that was the start of her relationship with Aurora. That was what made her safe, familiar, and understanding. That was what made her home for Nastya.
So, when there was only a line of cyberian numbers left... Nastya went out. Because Aurora wasn't familiar anymore.
And this is my final point: Nastya's problem has nothing to do with Aurora. Aurora is just a symptom.
Nastya deeply fear challenges and changements.
Think about it. She grew up in a false utopy, then violently murdered by someone she trusted, and brought back to life by a vampire scientist and her weird violent son. That's a lot of changes. Too much for a young reclused princess.
This is the root of Nastya's traumas. In an instant, all she knew was destroyed. And all because of messy and organic beings. All was good, until at the first problem everything comes crashing down forever.
I doubt she talked about it to anyone. Jonny seems genuinely surprised by her departure, having no idea she felt this bad to the point of not coming back forever.
Aurora was just the last straw. The last rampart between Nastya and the problems she ran away all of her immortal life. Aurora was the last illusion of something which is safe and will never ever change no matter what. Something which she could hold on to without fearing treason.
So, when Aurora did the only thing that Nastya fears - changing - she snaps. A lot of things could have brought up her trauma in a way she couldn't had been able to ignore. But the fact that it was the love of her life who made her snap pushed her to do something irrational.
Not in the panic. I mean, she saw Aurora changed over the milleniums. And Aurora seems more surprised like it was new than angry to have the same argument again.
Nastya had ruminated alone her traumas, mistrust, and fear of challenges, changes, and organic beings so much that she went Out.
Not because of Aurora, but because Nastya had never been fine in the first place.
It's no wonder Out happened when you really think about it. Nastya doesn't like organic life because it's complicated, it can break, sometimes it's even unfixable.
quote from gender rebels
Nastya is in love with Aurora, and in saying that she is saying "you are not organic life, I can deal with you because you are metal and algorithm and predictable" - we can see this in bedtime story when she says she'll tweak Aurora's story creation algorithm
screenshot from A Bedtime Story
Aurora is not inorganic. She is not ai. She is a space moon made of flesh and blood and teeth and bone. She is not an ai. She is a body that was taken and stripped of autonomy, of the right to self identify, of the right to think- to be imperfect and organic.
The metal is a veneer that hides how messy and traumatized and unfixable she is. From the outside she is a starship. From the inside she can still bleed.
And this makes them fundamentally incompatible. But yet, they are in love.
And really, it's no wonder Nastya fell in love with Aurora. Let's take a look at Nastya's home planet, or at least home society:
"Terminals were scattered across the planet. There was one on every street corner, one beneath every lamppost and one in every commune block." "The midwife-machine performs a series of programmed manœuvres to quieten [the baby]. It cradles it and hums at several pitches until it finds one that seems most soothing. Mechanical arms stroke the baby’s flesh even as others start the process of implanting augmented reality interfaces into its nervous system." "The Czar an atrophied frame, never present in the real world and worn to dust by the chemical compounds that kept his brain alive so it could live forever in a perfect virtual paradise. The Rabotnik a copy, a mind preserved unchanging in the instant before its death and placed in an everlasting metal frame." (Cyberian Demons)
Its safe to say the world Nastya was born into, from the very minute she was born, was ridden with technology. She has augmented reality interfaces inplanted into her from birth. It would stand to reason that being taken from this society, wherein technology is everywhere, inside and out, would stand for a bit of a shock.
Aurora too had been augmented by the Cyberia.
While it is stated that the last time Nastya had used the ports themselves was directly before her death — "The last time she had used the ports, her tutor had ripped them out of her as the rebels stormed the palace" — Aurora is laced with Cyberian technology. I'd imagine she has something of a 'bluetooth wireless connection' with Aurora, rather than the physical data transfer of files between the ports and Nastya, it may as well be similar enough.
Imagine being Nastya, going from Cyberia, wherein there is augmented reality contantly, transplanted onto a ship with metal blood, a jonny, and a vampire. To Aurora, where the only bits of augmented reality run through Aurora.
Of course she'd fall in love with her. Aurora is familiarity. Aurora isn't organic. Aurora isn't human.
And of course when the undeniable part of aurora that is organic, that is a flesh moon plated in metal with her brain hooked to machines, when so much has broken and been replaced, when, presumably, aurora is less of an algorithm, nastya leaves with the brand cyberia left on her.
Because Aurora healing, becoming more of herself and less of a starship, is messy, and organic, and human.
and hard for nastya.
‘Think how long she’s been flying you around. Think how many bullet holes you’ve punched through her and how many atmospheres you’ve dropped her through. Think how many alterations and improvements we’ve made, Tim to her guns and Ashes to her storage and Brian to her engines and the Toy Soldier to who knows what. How much do you think is left of her after all she’s brought you through?’ Nastya held up the ancient, battered piece of hull plating. Just visible under the grime and scars of particles of space junk was a fragment of the Aurora’s original logo and serial number. Jonny honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a version that hadn’t been painted by the Mechanisms themselves. ‘So she’s free, now.’ Nastya gestured around at the spaceship they were standing in. ‘This Aurora can take you where you want to go. I’m going to take my Aurora somewhere else.’
Aurora was ship of theseus'd. Aurora was improved. Aurora was no longer cyberian. (both literally, and metaphorically)
So nastya left.
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