#so it's a matter of if we trust them to fix it. And well--do you?
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putting my prediction on record now that the coming decade is going to see the rise of viral-marketed fancy at-home water filtration systems, driving and driven by a drastic reduction in the quality of U.S. tap water (given that we are in a 'replacement era' where our current infrastructure is reaching the end of its lifespan--but isn't being replaced). also guessing that by the 2030s access to drinkable tap water will be a mainstream class issue, with low-income & unstably housed people increasingly forced to rely on expensive bottled water when they can't afford the up-front cost of at-home filtration--and with this being portrayed in media as a "moral failing" and short-sighted "choice," rather than a basic failure of our political & economic systems. really hope i'm just being alarmist, but plenty of this already happens in other countries, and the U.S. is in a state of decline, so. here's praying this post ages into irrelevance. timestamped April 2023
#apollo don't fucking touch this one#serious post#not a shitpost#hope i forget about this post and have no reason to ever look back on it one day#fyi i'm aware that access to potable water is already a major issue in parts of the U.S. yes i know flint michigan exists#i'm saying that this issue is going to GROW unless local & federal governments work together to fix it.#so it's a matter of if we trust them to fix it. And well--do you?#what are the chances the government just denies there's a problem until the water actually turns brown#at which point it's already been common knowledge for years and people have just become resigned and that's our new normal#i'm mean come on. how many of us already believe that we're being exposed to dangerous pollutants we don't know about and can't avoid#like that's pretty much just part of being a modern consumer. accepting that companies will happily endanger your life for a few pennies#and the most you'll get is like a $50 gift card as part of a class action rebate 20 years down the line#probably the history books will look back on Flint as a warning and a harbinger that went ignored#luxury condos will advertise their built-in top-of-the-line filtration systems--live here and you can drink water straight from your tap!#watch the elite professional class putting $700 dyson water filtration systems on their wedding registry#while the rest of us figure out how to fit water delivery into our grocery budget while putting 90% of our paycheck towards rent#also eggs are $15
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Sunshine and Midnight Rain
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader
word count: 851
summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story
a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING
Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.
You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.
“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.
“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.
“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?
“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.
“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.
“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.
“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”
——————
“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.
You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.
“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.
“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.
“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.
You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.
“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.
“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.
“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.
“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.
“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.
“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.
“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.
“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.
“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.
“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.
“He was always my favorite,” he adds.
“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.
“That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.
Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.
“You’re staring, again” You mention.
“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.
You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.
“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.
“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”
——————
It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.
As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.
“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.
“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.
You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”
“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks
“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.
“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.
“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”
And maybe, just maybe, he could.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo#pjo series#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#pjo x reader#pjo x you
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Google’s enshittification memos
[Note, 9 October 2023: Google disputes the veracity of this claim, but has declined to provide the exhibits and testimony to support its claims. Read more about this here.]
When I think about how the old, good internet turned into the enshitternet, I imagine a series of small compromises, each seemingly reasonable at the time, each contributing to a cultural norm of making good things worse, and worse, and worse.
Think about Unity President Marc Whitten's nonpology for his company's disastrous rug-pull, in which they declared that everyone who had paid good money to use their tool to make a game would have to keep paying, every time someone downloaded that game:
The most fundamental thing that we’re trying to do is we’re building a sustainable business for Unity. And for us, that means that we do need to have a model that includes some sort of balancing change, including shared success.
https://www.wired.com/story/unity-walks-back-policies-lost-trust/
"Shared success" is code for, "If you use our tool to make money, we should make money too." This is bullshit. It's like saying, "We just want to find a way to share the success of the painters who use our brushes, so every time you sell a painting, we want to tax that sale." Or "Every time you sell a house, the company that made the hammer gets to wet its beak."
And note that they're not talking about shared risk here – no one at Unity is saying, "If you try to make a game with our tools and you lose a million bucks, we're on the hook for ten percent of your losses." This isn't partnership, it's extortion.
How did a company like Unity – which became a market leader by making a tool that understood the needs of game developers and filled them – turn into a protection racket? One bad decision at a time. One rationalization and then another. Slowly, and then all at once.
When I think about this enshittification curve, I often think of Google, a company that had its users' backs for years, which created a genuinely innovative search engine that worked so well it seemed like *magic, a company whose employees often had their pick of jobs, but chose the "don't be evil" gig because that mattered to them.
People make fun of that "don't be evil" motto, but if your key employees took the gig because they didn't want to be evil, and then you ask them to be evil, they might just quit. Hell, they might make a stink on the way out the door, too:
https://theintercept.com/2018/09/13/google-china-search-engine-employee-resigns/
Google is a company whose founders started out by publishing a scientific paper describing their search methodology, in which they said, "Oh, and by the way, ads will inevitably turn your search engine into a pile of shit, so we're gonna stay the fuck away from them":
http://infolab.stanford.edu/pub/papers/google.pdf
Those same founders retained a controlling interest in the company after it went IPO, explaining to investors that they were going to run the business without having their elbows jostled by shortsighted Wall Street assholes, so they could keep it from turning into a pile of shit:
https://abc.xyz/investor/founders-letters/ipo-letter/
And yet, it's turned into a pile of shit. Google search is so bad you might as well ask Jeeves. The company's big plan to fix it? Replace links to webpages with florid paragraphs of chatbot nonsense filled with a supremely confident lies:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/14/googles-ai-hype-circle/
How did the company get this bad? In part, this is the "curse of bigness." The company can't grow by attracting new users. When you have 90%+ of the market, there are no new customers to sign up. Hypothetically, they could grow by going into new lines of business, but Google is incapable of making a successful product in-house and also kills most of the products it buys from other, more innovative companies:
https://killedbygoogle.com/
Theoretically, the company could pursue new lines of business in-house, and indeed, the current leaders of companies like Amazon, Microsoft and Apple are all execs who figured out how to get the whole company to do something new, and were elevated to the CEO's office, making each one a billionaire and sealing their place in history.
It is for this very reason that any exec at a large firm who tries to make a business-wide improvement gets immediately and repeatedly knifed by all their colleagues, who correctly reason that if someone else becomes CEO, then they won't become CEO. Machiavelli was an optimist:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/
With no growth from new customers, and no growth from new businesses, "growth" has to come from squeezing workers (say, laying off 12,000 engineers after a stock buyback that would have paid their salaries for the next 27 years), or business customers (say, by colluding with Facebook to rig the ad market with the Jedi Blue conspiracy), or end-users.
Now, in theory, we might never know exactly what led to the enshittification of Google. In theory, all of compromises, debates and plots could be lost to history. But tech is not an oral culture, it's a written one, and techies write everything down and nothing is ever truly deleted.
Time and again, Big Tech tells on itself. Think of FTX's main conspirators all hanging out in a group chat called "Wirefraud." Amazon naming its program targeting weak, small publishers the "Gazelle Project" ("approach these small publishers the way a cheetah would pursue a sickly gazelle”). Amazon documenting the fact that users were unknowingly signing up for Prime and getting pissed; then figuring out how to reduce accidental signups, then deciding not to do it because it liked the money too much. Think of Zuck emailing his CFO in the middle of the night to defend his outsized offer to buy Instagram on the basis that users like Insta better and Facebook couldn't compete with them on quality.
It's like every Big Tech schemer has a folder on their desktop called "Mens Rea" filled with files like "Copy_of_Premeditated_Murder.docx":
https://doctorow.medium.com/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself-f7f0eb6d215a?sk=351f8a54ab8e02d7340620e5eec5024d
Right now, Google's on trial for its sins against antitrust law. It's a hard case to make. To secure a win, the prosecutors at the DoJ Antitrust Division are going to have to prove what was going on in Google execs' minds when the took the actions that led to the company's dominance. They're going to have to show that the company deliberately undertook to harm its users and customers.
Of course, it helps that Google put it all in writing.
Last week, there was a huge kerfuffile over the DoJ's practice of posting its exhibits from the trial to a website each night. This is a totally normal thing to do – a practice that dates back to the Microsoft antitrust trial. But Google pitched a tantrum over this and said that the docs the DoJ were posting would be turned into "clickbait." Which is another way of saying, "the public would find these documents very interesting, and they would be damning to us and our case":
https://www.bigtechontrial.com/p/secrecy-is-systemic
After initially deferring to Google, Judge Amit Mehta finally gave the Justice Department the greenlight to post the document. It's up. It's wild:
https://www.justice.gov/d9/2023-09/416692.pdf
The document is described as "notes for a course on communication" that Google VP for Finance Michael Roszak prepared. Roszak says he can't remember whether he ever gave the presentation, but insists that the remit for the course required him to tell students "things I didn't believe," and that's why the document is "full of hyperbole and exaggeration."
OK.
But here's what the document says: "search advertising is one of the world's greatest business models ever created…illicit businesses (cigarettes or drugs) could rival these economics…[W]e can mostly ignore the demand side…(users and queries) and only focus on the supply side of advertisers, ad formats and sales."
It goes on to say that this might be changing, and proposes a way to balance the interests of the search and ads teams, which are at odds, with search worrying that ads are pushing them to produce "unnatural search experiences to chase revenue."
"Unnatural search experiences to chase revenue" is a thinly veiled euphemism for the prophetic warnings in that 1998 Pagerank paper: "The goals of the advertising business model do not always correspond to providing quality search to users." Or, more plainly, "ads will turn our search engine into a pile of shit."
And, as Roszak writes, Google is "able to ignore one of the fundamental laws of economics…supply and demand." That is, the company has become so dominant and cemented its position so thoroughly as the default search engine across every platforms and system that even if it makes its search terrible to goose revenues, users won't leave. As Lily Tomlin put it on SNL: "We don't have to care, we're the phone company."
In the enshittification cycle, companies first lure in users with surpluses – like providing the best search results rather than the most profitable ones – with an eye to locking them in. In Google's case, that lock-in has multiple facets, but the big one is spending billions of dollars – enough to buy a whole Twitter, every single year – to be the default search everywhere.
Google doesn't buy its way to dominance because it has the very best search results and it wants to shield you from inferior competitors. The economically rational case for buying default position is that preventing competition is more profitable than succeeding by outperforming competitors. The best reason to buy the default everywhere is that it lets you lower quality without losing business. You can "ignore the demand side, and only focus on advertisers."
For a lot of people, the analysis stops here. "If you're not paying for the product, you're the product." Google locks in users and sells them to advertisers, who are their co-conspirators in a scheme to screw the rest of us.
But that's not right. For one thing, paying for a product doesn't mean you won't be the product. Apple charges a thousand bucks for an iPhone and then nonconsensually spies on every iOS user in order to target ads to them (and lies about it):
https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar
John Deere charges six figures for its tractors, then runs a grift that blocks farmers from fixing their own machines, and then uses their control over repair to silence farmers who complain about it:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/31/dealers-choice/#be-a-shame-if-something-were-to-happen-to-it
Fair treatment from a corporation isn't a loyalty program that you earn by through sufficient spending. Companies that can sell you out, will sell you out, and then cry victim, insisting that they were only doing their fiduciary duty for their sacred shareholders. Companies are disciplined by fear of competition, regulation or – in the case of tech platforms – customers seizing the means of computation and installing ad-blockers, alternative clients, multiprotocol readers, etc:
https://doctorow.medium.com/an-audacious-plan-to-halt-the-internets-enshittification-and-throw-it-into-reverse-3cc01e7e4604?sk=85b3f5f7d051804521c3411711f0b554
Which is where the next stage of enshittification comes in: when the platform withdraws the surplus it had allocated to lure in – and then lock in – business customers (like advertisers) and reallocate it to the platform's shareholders.
For Google, there are several rackets that let it screw over advertisers as well as searchers (the advertisers are paying for the product, and they're also the product). Some of those rackets are well-known, like Jedi Blue, the market-rigging conspiracy that Google and Facebook colluded on:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue
But thanks to the antitrust trial, we're learning about more of these. Megan Gray – ex-FTC, ex-DuckDuckGo – was in the courtroom last week when evidence was presented on Google execs' panic over a decline in "ad generating searches" and the sleazy gimmick they came up with to address it: manipulating the "semantic matching" on user queries:
https://www.wired.com/story/google-antitrust-lawsuit-search-results/
When you send a query to Google, it expands that query with terms that are similar – for example, if you search on "Weds" it might also search for "Wednesday." In the slides shown in the Google trial, we learned about another kind of semantic matching that Google performed, this one intended to turn your search results into "a twisted shopping mall you can’t escape."
Here's how that worked: when you ran a query like "children's clothing," Google secretly appended the brand name of a kids' clothing manufacturer to the query. This, in turn, triggered a ton of ads – because rival brands will have bought ads against their competitors' name (like Pepsi buying ads that are shown over queries for Coke).
Here we see surpluses being taken away from both end-users and business customers – that is, searchers and advertisers. For searchers, it doesn't matter how much you refine your query, you're still going to get crummy search results because there's an unkillable, hidden search term stuck to your query, like a piece of shit that Google keeps sticking to the sole of your shoe.
But for advertisers, this is also a scam. They're paying to be matched to users who search on a brand name, and you didn't search on that brand name. It's especially bad for the company whose name has been appended to your search, because Google has a protection racket where the company that matches your search has to pay extra in order to show up overtop of rivals who are worse matches. Both the matching company and those rivals have given Google a credit-card that Google gets to bill every time a user searches on the company's name, and Google is just running fraudulent charges through those cards.
And, of course, Google put this in writing. I mean, of course they did. As we learned from the documentary The Incredibles, supervillains can't stop themselves from monologuing, and in big, sprawling monopolists, these monologues have to transmitted electronically – and often indelibly – to far-flung co-cabalists.
As Gray points out, this is an incredibly blunt enshittification technique: "it hadn’t even occurred to me that Google just flat out deletes queries and replaces them with ones that monetize better." We don't know how long Google did this for or how frequently this bait-and-switch was deployed.
But if this is a blunt way of Google smashing its fist down on the scales that balance search quality against ad revenues, there's plenty of subtler ways the company could sneak a thumb on there. A Google exec at the trial rhapsodized about his company's "contract with the user" to deliver an "honest results policy," but given how bad Google search is these days, we're left to either believe he's lying or that Google sucks at search.
The paper trail offers a tantalizing look at how a company went from doing something that was so good it felt like a magic trick to being "able to ignore one of the fundamental laws of economics…supply and demand," able to "ignore the demand side…(users and queries) and only focus on the supply side of advertisers."
What's more, this is a system where everyone loses (except for Google): this isn't a grift run by Google and advertisers on users – it's a grift Google runs on everyone.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics
My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!
#pluralistic#enshittification#semantic matching#google#antitrust#trustbusting#transparency#fatfingers#serp#the algorithm#telling on yourself
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how you get the girl — ethan landry
word count: 3,654
pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader
summary: because of ethan’s reputation as a man-whore, y/n doesn’t believe he wants a serious relationship with her. so, ethan and chad make a list so that he can get the girl.
warnings: fluff.
author’s note: i’ve been reading lots of hockey rom-coms, so i needed to write about it. i’m obsessed with ethan as a hockey player😫
ETHAN DIDN’T KNOW HOW BADLY HIS ACTIONS WOULD COME BACK IN THE FUTURE TO BITE HIM IN THE ASS. Being captain of the Blackmore hockey team and certified pretty boy, girls were practically—and quite literally sometimes—throwing themselves at him, and he would lie if he said he didn’t love the attention. It would be easier and shorter to name the girls he hadn’t hooked up with than naming the ones he had. That gained him the reputation of being a playboy, and he didn’t mind being called that, to be completely honest. Or at least, he didn’t until Y/N came into his life.
She was Tara’s best friend, and since said girl started dating Ethan’s best friend, Chad, the four of them began spending lots of time together. At first, the boy flirted with Y/N because hitting on attractive girls was like second nature to him, but then he got to know her better and the unexpected thing happened—Ethan was swept off his feet. But his reputation was his karma, and Y/N didn’t think he was being serious with her. She would laugh and brush it off because no matter how gorgeous Ethan was, playboys weren’t Y/N’s type, so she would decline every attempt of him to make her go out with him.
“Why not? Just one date” Ethan said on his fifth attempt of the day. They were on the Blackmore hockey rink, and instead of using his break to drink water and rest, Ethan went to talk to Y/N.
“Exactly. You want just one date, get me inside your bed and tomorrow you’ll move onto some other girl. I really like you” she said, and before he could smirk in victory she added. “But why ruin the friendship we have for sex? Besides, one night stands aren’t my cup of tea.”
“Then let’s make it an every day thing” Ethan said.
“Nice try, Eth. We know you don’t do repeats” she stated.
“I could!” he argued. “And besides, I’m not asking for sex—I mean, at the end of the date, if you want to, I’m not gonna reject the offer—, I’m done with hook ups, I want something more.”
Y/N laughed “Okay, try it, but not with me. I’m sorry, Eth”
The girl stood up and made her way towards the exit of the rink, leaving a disappointed Ethan behind. She would lie if she said she didn’t want to try things with him, but the truth also was that she didn’t trust him when it came to relationships and she didn’t want to get her heart broken by him.
Chad got off the ice to find his best friend sitting on the bleachers, gaze fixed on the stairs, looking like a sad kicked puppy. It’s not a sight seen often, Ethan was usually an over-energetic puppy, always happy and with a smile on his face.
“Hey, man. What’s wrong?”
“Y/N rejected me.” Ethan played with his hockey stick, not wanting to meet his best friend’s eyes.
“I’ve never seen you like this after a rejection” Chad frowned.
“Well, not to brag, but it doesn’t usually happen.” he said, making Chad chuckle. “But it’s different this time. Y/N is not someone I want for one night, or for something casual. I want everything with her.”
“Wow” Chad took a breath, shocked by the confession. “And she said no?”
“She says she doesn’t want to ruin our friendship” Ethan said.
Chad scoffed “Why would that happen?”
“She doesn’t trust me and thinks I’m not boyfriend material. I really am serious about her, Chad. I swear. I would never hurt her. I wish she could read my mind”
“Don’t you dare give up, then. Words aren’t enough, show her you really like her”
“How?”
Chad smirked. “Grab a pen and a napkin, we are going to make a list so you can get the girl.”
one: get her favourite coffee
ETHAN WOKE UP A BIT EARLIER THE FOLLOWING DAY TO GO TO Y/N’S FAVOURITE COFFEE SHOP AND GET HER ORDER. He convinced Tara to drag Y/N straight to class, not letting her get the coffee, and to text him once they were in the classroom. Once he got the text, Ethan entered the class, all eyes on him, and set the cup in front of Y/N with an adorable grin.
“Good morning. You look gorgeous as always” he kissed her cheek and simply left the room.
Y/N stared at the drink completely astonished, ignoring the glares coming from the female population and the smirk her best friend was giving her. There was something scribbled with black sharpie—it was simple, but it made her stomach combust. Have a great day, beautiful! Love, Ethan. And three hearts poorly made—which she thought was utterly adorable—next to his name.
“You got him in a leash” Tara laughed.
“Don’t be silly, we know what he wants” Y/N brushed it off.
“Come on, Ethan doesn’t do romantic stuff for anyone, not even to get laid.”
“It’s just one coffee, Tara. Let’s not be dramatic.”
But Tara knew, and Y/N too, that the little gesture was a lot when it came to Ethan Landry. Yet, a coffee cup wasn’t enough to gain the girl’s trust.
two: show her you’re interested in her interests
WHAT IS THE THING Y/N ENJOYED THE MOST? EASY: BOOKS. Ethan knew exactly which one he should start with. In fact, he had bought it the first time Y/N mentioned it. He didn’t know what it was about, but he was sure it was a rom-com that referenced other rom-com movies.
“Ethan!” Chad said in a loud voice, startling his friend. Ethan looked up to find his best friend, Tara and Y/N staring at him. The latter had her mouth wide open.
“What?” he asked absentmindedly. He had been so immersed in the book he hadn’t heard them arrive.
“We called your name countless times, man.” Chad laughed.
“Sorry” Ethan closed the book and looked at Y/N. “Um, I may have a man-crush on Wes Bennett.”
Y/N chuckled, sitting in front of him and ignoring the way her heart was beating rapidly. She wanted to take a picture of Ethan with the book and set it as her lock screen “Welcome to the club.”
“I can’t stand it anymore, I need them to kiss. I need Wes to get the girl” he groaned.
A grin took over her features “Which part are you at?”
“They are going to hang out at Michael’s house” Ethan replied, which made her smile wider. “What’s that smile for? Oh god, what is going to happen?”
“I’m not going to spoil it! Just want to say… buckle up”
“You can’t say that! I can’t continue reading until tomorrow, I have a test!” Ethan panicked.
“Look at you, invested in a rom-com” Chad bumped his shoulder.
“I just wanted to see if it lived up to Y/N’s hype” Ethan said, making her turn into a blushing mess. “It does.”
“You aren’t even finished” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “Did you know there’s a sequel coming? And its playlist isn’t very optimistic”
“What?! You just ruined my day. I don’t want to read it anymore” he crossed his arms.
Wanting to mess with him, Tara grabbed the book. “So you wouldn’t mind if I-“ she stopped talking when the boy took the book from her hands.
“Yes, I would mind”
“Wait, are you annotating it?” Y/N said when she saw the colourful post-its.
“Yeah, it’s pretty fun. Anyways, I have to go to class, see you later at practice?”
“See you” Chad said. Before leaving, Ethan kissed Y/N’s forehead.
“What is going on with him?” Y/N asked.
“Showing you he’s serious about you. What are you waiting for, Y/N/N? I thought you liked him” Chad said.
“I do, a lot. But I’m not sure I’m really what he wants. What if he’s just interested because I’m the only girl who has rejected him? What if I finally say yes and then that interest is gone? How am I supposed to recover from that?”
“Y/N…”
“There’s nothing I’d like more than to call him mine, Chad. Trust me. But being just another girl on his list would kill me. I don’t want to lose him, okay? I don’t know if I’m willing to risk our friendship.”
three: woo her with your hockey skills.
WHEN PRACTICE WAS OVER AND CHAD AND ETHAN DIDN’T LEAVE THE RINK, Y/N WAS CONFUSED. The boys skated towards the bleachers Tara and her were sitting in and smirked at them. Chad grabbed a bag from a corner and gave it to them.
“Put the skates on, ladies”
Y/N wanted to laugh when Ethan grabbed her hands and guided her around the ice, but she thought it was so cute that she didn’t have the heart to tell him she knew how to skate perfectly well.
“Okay, I think you’re ready to do it on your own, but go slowly” Ethan said as he finished explaining her how to slide in the ice.
“Losers don’t do it slowly, Landry.” Y/N scoffed.
“You will hurt yourself, Y/N/N. Don’t be stubborn, it’s dangerous.” Ethan sighed.
Y/N smirked “Oh yeah?” she skated flawlessly towards a corner, and came back with a winning smile. She even did a little spin to show off.
“H-how?” he asked breathlessly, frozen in place with a look of shock.
“Took skating classes when I was little” she explained.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I was blabbering instructions like a fool”
Y/N shrugged “I couldn’t, you looked so excited”
“You’re evil” he shook his head as he let out the cutest laugh Y/N had ever heard. God, her infuriation was just getting worse with every little action he did. She didn’t know how much longer she would be able to contain herself. She needed him to stop.
So her face turned serious “Ethan…”
Ethan fluttered his eyes close and then looked at her with pleading eyes. “Please don’t. I know what you’re going to say. Just hear me out. I know that my reputation is horrible, and I get why you don’t trust me. But I have never been more serious about something the way I am about you. I really wish I could erase every hook up, but I can’t and I don’t want my past to define my future. I know it’s hard to believe, but I haven’t been with anyone since I fell for you. I haven’t even thought about anyone else since I fell for you. I want to keep showing you how much I like you.”
Y/N was speechless. He had known Ethan long enough to know he was being serious and completely honest with his words. Maybe she had judged him too much, maybe he had truly changed. And now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him with a girl in ages. Maybe diving into a relationship wasn’t the safest option, but it was worth the try.
four: get her flowers
DURING HER LUNCH BREAK, Y/N WAS SURPRISED BY THE HOCKEY PLAYER, who on one hand was holding red tulips and on the other one food. Like always, his presence brought attention and whispers, but none of them cared. Something had shifted between them since that afternoon at the rink, and they both could feel it.
“Thank you, Eth” she smiled gratefully. “You know, I had a feeling you would bring me lunch, so instead of bringing mine, I brought yours. I owe you flowers, though.”
“Thanks” he laughed. “Do you like them?”
“They are beautiful” she nodded, her cheeks the same colour as her flowers.
“When you get home, you should look for the meaning of red tulips” he winked.
For the rest of the day, Y/N had been in a haze. Every time Ethan crossed her mind, blush appeared on her cheeks and the corners of her mouth lifted up.
“My god, was I that annoying when Chad and I started talking?” Tara asked when they entered their dorm.
“Yes, you were, T.” Y/N chuckled, remembering her best friend’s love-sick smile every time Chad texted her. “You still are, by the way.”
“Anyways, I love seeing you like this. And I’m glad you’re willing to give Ethan a chance.”
“Me too. I’m not going to lie, I’m a bit scared that he’ll get bored of me, but I’m really determined to risk it.”
“He’s not going to get bored of you, Y/N/N. He doesn’t like you because he’s into the whole ‘Only girl who had ever rejected him’ thing. He’s into you because you don’t see him only as a hot hockey player, but you also see how sweet and caring he is. You’re not interested in using him to become popular, you see that he is much more than his popularity. And that is why he likes you.”
“Well, shit. Now I feel bad for rejecting him multiple times.” Y/N slumped to the couch.
Tara laughed “Don’t. It’s understandable why you were cautious with your feelings. He knows that he isn’t a saint. By the way, did you know that Chad and him made this list with things to do to win you over?”
“Really?” Y/N laughed. “That makes sense, he’s being really sweet this week. Well, more than usual, because he’s always super sweet.”
“I found it on their fridge, they are so silly. It’s called ‘Ethan and Chad’s infallible list on how to get the girl’. I took a picture”
Y/N took Tara’s phone and laughed at the list. There were a couple of items crossed out and with a tick, and the one that said ‘Woo her with your hockey skills’ had a little note to the side that said ‘Backfired. My girl is a skating genius, made me look like a fool’, which made her laugh. Then, on the ‘Give her flowers’ there was an explanation note that said ‘My pick: red tulips. Means declaration of love’.
“Fucking hell, he’s so… ugh! I really want to kiss him”
“Lucky for you, that’s item six” Tara said over her shoulder.
“The thought of them brainstorming and writing this down is adorable” Y/N laughed.
“It really is” Tara nodded. “You should wear Ethan’s jersey to the game tomorrow. You don’t know how many times he told us he has dreamt about it.”
Y/N smiled, her heart fluttering. Ethan had shown her how much he liked her, and she thought it was time to show him how much she liked him. “You know? That’s an excellent idea.”
[💖]
five: publicly state you’re only into her.
ETHAN KNEW THE BEST TIME TO EXECUTE ITEM FIVE WOULD BE THE NIGHT OF THE GAME. The ideal scenario would be to get that puck on the net and dedicate it to Y/N, and if he wasn’t that lucky, he would settle with blowing kisses and winks at her. Though when he went out on the ice rink and he caught sight of her, his mind went blank, his body stopped working for a couple of seconds and if it weren’t for Chad steadying him, he would’ve collapsed to the ice.
He quickly skated towards her seat, which was in the first row, right behind the glass. “Beautiful, you can’t just come here in my jersey without any warnings. You want me to have a heart attack?”
A sweet laugh bursted out of her “Sorry. Red tulips are your way of declaring your love, I thought wearing your jersey could be mine.”
Ethan’s breath hitched “Um, I’m about to jump up this glass so that I can kiss you.”
The girl shook her head and laughed “After the game, pretty boy. If you win, you might get an extra reward.”
And hell if those words didn’t encourage Ethan to play his best. The game was brutal, both teams were acing it and the match was about to end in a tie, until Ethan scored the winning goal a few seconds before time was over. The Blackmore bleachers erupted in screams of triumph, and the players united for a group hug.
Tara and Y/N instantly went looking for their boys. The last one scowled as she saw a puck bunny making sexy eyes at Ethan and she clung to his arm. The boy couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable, he pulled his arm away, only for the girl to find another way of touching him.
“You have been acting so hard to get lately. Don’t you think a winner deserves a kiss?” Y/N heard the girl say.
“You’re absolutely right. Now, back away so I can kiss the hell out of him.” Y/N said, throwing daggers at the girl, who looked at her in a mix of surprise and annoyance. “And can’t you get a hint? He’s uncomfortable.”
Ethan gaped at her. She had never looked so hot—standing there with his number on the back of the jersey that fitted her like a dress, knee-length boots that weirdly turned him on, and with a scowl on her face as she got all territorial on him.
“And who are you?” the puck bunny scanned her up and down with a frown.
“His girlfriend. Now, can you leave? I have to congratulate my man” she said harshly. As soon as she said that, Ethan was sure he was about to drop onto his knees and let her do whatever she wanted to him.
“Girlfriend?” Ethan smirked as the puck bunny left. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good” Y/N smirked back, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Now, are you ready to cross out items five and six? You know, one bird two stones.”
“Hell yes”
Their lips moved hungrily, and the kiss was way too heated and inappropriate considering their surroundings. But they couldn’t stop it, their desire was diesel and they had been playing with fire for months.
“I promised you a reward if you won, right?” Y/N said against his lips.
“Isn’t this the reward? This is more than I could’ve asked for. You, finally being my girlfriend and kissing me while wearing my jersey.” his eyes were dark and lips swollen. His beauty was out of this world.
“You scored the winning goal, babe. You deserve a special reward” she licked her lips. “Let’s go to your car.”
He nodded eagerly, and as they reached the car, he dared to ask “What do you have in mind?”
She opened the back door. “One kiss isn’t enough. How much time do you have until you have to go to the bar with the guys?”
“What guys? What bar? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he acted clueless and she let out a giggle. “In fifteen, but they’ll survive if I arrive a bit late. I want to be with my girl for a while.”
“Okay, then get in the car so we can make out.” Y/N bursted out laughing as Ethan carelessly threw himself on the backseat of his car. “You need to learn about the art of subtlety, Eth.”
“Oh that’s rich coming from the girl who attacked me in the middle of the arena.” he said grabbing her waist to guide her to his lap.
“Attack you? That’s not what I did” she scoffed.
“Yes you did. You attacked me with a kiss and then you led me to my car to corrupt me” Ethan said in a fake innocent tone.
“Corrupting the former man-whore?” Y/N arched an eyebrow.
Ethan’s eyes darkened “You’re right. Maybe I am the one corrupting you. I mean, you couldn’t even wait for us to get home to attack me again?”
“You’re insufferable. You’re so lucky you’re hot.”
“I am hot?”
Y/N nodded, looking at him. His muscled arms were spread on the top of the seats, grin plastered on his face and cheeks still rosy from the cold temperature of the arena.
“The hottest. And the best thing? That you’re mine.”
“Just yours, love.” he smiled sweetly, resting his forehead on hers.
“That list of yours is pretty… infallible, right?” Y/N joked.
“I can’t believe you know about the list” Ethan hid his face on her neck.
“You sticked it on the fridge and Tara took a picture” Y/N replied.
“Fucking Chad” Ethan groaned. “So, what do you think?”
“Well, it worked, right? You got the girl.”
“Yes, I did” he smiled hugging her tightly. “Should I do one on how to keep the girl?”
Y/N laughed “I don’t think you need that. Rumour has it, she’s totally in love with you.”
“Oh yeah? Lucky me, because I’m totally in love with her too.”
#ethan landry#ethan landry fluff#ethanlandry#ethan landry x you#ethan landry smut#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry angst#ethan landry drabble#ethan landry fic#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry oneshot#jack champion#jack champion x reader#jack champion x y/n#jack champion oneshot#jack champion imagine#jack champion fluff#jackchampion#jack champion fanfic
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Could we get a love triangle where the rivals fall in love with each other instead of the intended love interest? (Would love if it's m/m and enemies to lovers)
"Tell me," Cassander murmured. "Is it that you don't like my hands on her, or simply that you wish I had my hands on you instead?"
Azael glared at the other fey. His jaw clenched with the sudden horrible realisation that the truth wanting to slip passed his lips wasn't "her" immediately and without question.
Cassander, bastard that he was, smirked at his silence. He sauntered closer, his gaze fixed on Azael with the disquieting familiarity of any good enemy. He wasn't like the human. Cassander didn't look at him he was some beautiful, otherworldly and magical thing. All positive qualities and power. A dream within a dream within a fantasy. Cassander looked at him like he knew every filthy, dark thing about him and still wanted to sink his teeth in for the rest. Rake out every lingering secret with clawed hands. Rend and own and conquer.
Cassander was not fragile and caring and brave. If Azael shoved Cassander into a wall, if he grabbed him by the shoulders, experience told him there would be no need to be gentle. No fear of breaking something fleeting and perfect.
It should have been about her. She was the better choice in every way. She should have been what he wanted.
"I think you're very quick to physically put yourself between me and her," Cassander continued, in a confiding sort of voice. "Quick to get in my face and see if I'll put you back down . I think, when the three of us are in a room together, I'm the one that you're always watching."
"That's because you're the one who can't be trusted."
"She's drawn to me."
"You're a high fey. She's a human. She can't help it."
"How very patronising and mildly misogynistic. Does she like that about you?"
"I'm trying to keep her safe!"
"Maybe she does," Cassander mused. "Certainly, it's been centuries since I've seen you so worked up. It's an excellent look on you, possessiveness. It reminds me that, no matter how civilised and cold you pretend to be these days, you're still just the vicious little scrap willing to fight every other member of my court. Aren't you?"
Azael seethed. Still, no good response could leave his mouth without damning him. He'd never envied the human's ability to lie quite so much as when Cassander was in the room. He'd never felt quite so much like his very blood was burning up in the heat.
Cassander's smirk grew.
"But what about you, Azael?" His head tilted, as he paused on the other side of the dining table. His voice was ancient music, fey-tongue, home. "Can you help it?"
"It's not my fault you're - maddening."
"Maddening, am I?"
"The worst."
Azael realised, abruptly, that he'd leaned in across the table to snarl the words into Cassander's beautiful face. There were mere inches between them.
What would Cassander do, if it was the human, standing where Azael was? No doubt he'd be charming. He was never charming to Azael.
Their eyes met.
"Kiss me," Cassander ordered.
Without thinking, savagely, Azael did. He tangled his fingers in Cassander's hair and yanked, half hauling him across the table. He bit down claiming at Cassander's lips. He only stopped when he felt Cassander laugh with feral glee against his mouth.
They broke apart. Cassander's eyes were dark, devouring.
"I guess you can't help it, either," Cassander said. He licked his lips. Slow. Taunting. "So how can you hold it against her? Maybe you should apologise."
"Stay away from her."
"Why?"
"Because -" Azael drew in a breath. He could still imagine the heat of Cassander beneath his hands, the scent of him, the wily danger of the summer court's most favoured son. "Because I said so. And you're in my court."
"Would you like me to leave?"
"I'd like you bloody well kiss me again."
It slipped out. Too lacking in the silver that was supposed to coat his frozen tongue.
Cassander grinned with the same triumphant smile he'd once had on the battlefield. He rounded the table, pushing Azael down into the chair and straddling his lap.
"I'll have to send our sweet girl a fruit basket," he said. He mockingly, gently, tucked Azael's hair back from his flushed face. "She might just make an honest thing of you yet."
"You-"
Then he kissed Azael, and Azael realised he was well and truly screwed.
Him.
Maybe it had always been about him.
Damn it.
#m/m#idk#fantasy#romance#romantasy#fantasy romance#enemies to lovers#writing#story#fey#fairies#enemies to lovers speed run where they absolutely cannot lie to each other who#love triangle subversion
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loml (loss of my life) // ghost of you
pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader
summary: jj up and leaves in search of his dad after receiving a weird letter and kiara witnesses a showdown between you and rafe that reveals more about what happened between the two of you than you wanted to share.
warnings: angsty angst angst, ptsd, rafe cameron muahaha, szn 4 spoilers
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--
Let’s do a little recap, okay?
In the last 48-72 hours, a lot of shit had gone down. And now, the seven of you were rehashing the details, so, might as well share them. JJ bid off the last of the gold, Wes Genrette gave y’all five grand to find a necklace, you and JJ found the necklace but managed to land in the hospital, Wes ended up dead somehow, Topper’s girlfriend almost killed you all, Cleo got kidnapped, JJ got interrogated by Shoupe because Kooks take no threat lightly, and now Terrance was dead in your living room.
Yeah, dead. In the living room.
So, that’s what everyone had been up to. For the most part, anyway.
You slept. You slept for 14 hours with no interruption and no intent of doing anything else as rain battered against the windows. The last few days didn’t feel real and you were terrified the moment you tried to get going again, something else would go wrong.
The rest of the Pogues handled things while leaving you to rest, to which you were extremely grateful. Cleo climbed in bed with you at some point, sobbing into your chest as you held her tightly, allowing her the space to let out all emotions.
After laying Terrance to rest, the lot of you were heading to Charleston in hopes of figuring out what exactly the amulet inscription said. There was of course the matter of the property tax and zoning change lingering over your heads while all of this was decided.
You hung back with JJ while he fixed the Twinkie, agreeing to prep the store for your departure and handle business until you had to leave. It wasn’t anything too heavy on your brain but it kept you occupied enough to prevent thinking about worse things.
“Babe.” JJ came flying into the covered dock with a rush, practically tripping on his own feet to get to you.
“What’s wrong?”
The instant concern on your face made him feel guilty. You’d been jumpy, rightly so, after everything happened. Especially now that the cops were aware of JJ’s threat, it was only a matter of time before someone came looking for you in retaliation.
He held a piece of paper in front of your face, waving it around chaotically where you couldn’t catch a glimpse of the writing. “I gotta go. I gotta- look.”
“Breathe.” You put your hands on his shoulders to keep him upright. “What is it?”
“A letter, from Wes Genrette. Said my dad would know, I gotta find him.”
“Your dad?!” You repeated in shock, hoping he was lying or at least misspeaking. “Jayj, your dad left.”
He shook his head, jumping forward to kiss you like his life depended on it. Fingers slipping into your hair, he repeated his action before pulling away. “Gotta trust me, baby. Be careful, alright? Go to Charleston, stay with John B. I’ll be back.”
You nodded in response, holding on to his fingers as long as you could before he pulled away and ran down the dock to the HMS Pogue. You hated not know what he intended on doing, but like he said, you had to trust him. No matter what, you trusted him. And maybe it would bite you in the ass, but you had to try.
Not long after, the remainder of the group returned from their ceremony for Terrance and found you in the shop. You sat on the counter where you’d been in a daze while watching the water.
“What’s up?” John B asked as he tapped the counter surface and climbed up next to you, recognizing the look in your eyes enough to know you weren’t fully present. The group piled in the area, taking their own spots.
“JJ left,” You explained directly. “Came running in here spewing all this shit about his dad, took the HMS, and left.”
Pope frowned at the news and grabbed a bag of chips to munch on. “Ohhkay. Are we supposed to wait on him or?”
You shook your head. “He said go. He’d catch up later.”
“Are you okay with that?” John B watched you carefully, knowing last time you’d left JJ in Kildare with no way to get ahold of him had terrified you. He promised to never do that to you again, to make sure you were comfortable and in the right state of mind to make those decisions yourself.
You looked over at your brother and shrugged honestly. “He said it had to do with his dad, John B. I don’t like that.”
“He said to go,” Cleo repeated as she dug her knife into the wood of the support post. “We should go.”
You licked your lips and took a deep breath. She was right. JJ was fully capable of handling himself, and with the dirt bikes here, he could catch up easily if he wanted. Nodding, you looked at John B. “She’s right, we need to go.”
John B nodded when you didn’t budge. “Alright, we’ll go load up the Twinkie. Meet us up there, when you’re ready.”
The group followed your brother up to the house, giving you some space and time to wrap up the shop and get your things together.
“Hey.” You looked up to see Kiara standing a few feet away from you, her fingers tangled together in nervousness.
“Hi,” You returned the greeting and climbed off the counter, shifting behind the register to collect the cash from today and lock up.
Kie walked a little closer and cleared her throat. “I just…um. I wanted to say I’m sorry, for the other day on the beach. I shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that when you had a good point.”
Your hands moved absentmindedly to band together the few bills you’d collected for the day before tucking them in the lockbox and hiding it in the safe. Kiara continued to try and explain herself, which you appreciated, but it wasn’t necessary.
“Kie,” You interrupted her softly with a small laugh, “It’s okay, girl. I promise.”
“I just got really scared,” She admitted sheepishly and tugged on her curly hair. “I saw us getting attacked, again, and someone going to jail. And I… I can’t do that again. Not after everything that’s happened.”
“I get it Kie, really. I mean, at first, I was upset because why were you mad that I was trying to defend us but to be honest, there’s so much more going on right now that my mind is clouded with.” You weren’t trying to come off rude, but the way she immediately switched on you as if she wouldn’t have lost her mind over dead baby turtles…
“Are y’all done?” Your heart dropped at the all too familiar voice and you looked up to meet Rafe Cameron’s eyes. He smirked at your shocked expression and he took a step closer making you take one back.
“What are you doing here?” Your voice was shaky and you refused to break eye-contact with him. The pocket knife slipped between your fingers as Kiara moved to stand behind you.
Rafe scratched his head as if his presence was a normal thing and he wandered around the shop, running his fingers across the shelves. “Uh, yeah. Do you—what you don’t think I’m just a customer coming to shop?”
“Rafe,” You snapped, your tone having a bite to it to let him know you weren’t down for games.
He fiddled with random items as he crossed the wooden floor to get closer to you and Kie. “I’m just looking for my sister.”
“She doesn’t want to see you,” Kiara answered as her fingers wrapped around your elbow. How Rafe managed to get in here without any of your friends noticing, you weren’t sure.
“Well, she’s my sister, okay? I can come have a little chat with her if I want,” He dismissed with a scoff. He grabbed a snow globe in his hands and your mind suddenly went to the ways he would probably kill you with it. “That was a really nice performance yesterday at the break. Really fun to watch, it was awesome. You know this place is on the chopping block, right?”
“Let me guess, you’re behind that or something?” You sneered at his nonchalant attitude. “I don’t know why Sofia puts up with you.”
Rafe flipped around pretty quick at the mention of the girl’s name. “You really ran your mouth to her huh? Took me a while to convince her that things had changed.”
“Did you drug her too?”
He was quick to close the gap between you, hands pressing against the counter that barely separated the two of you. “No, no. She uh, told me about your little problem, though.” Rafe motioned toward your abdomen with a hint of a smirk on his face.
Your eyes burned with tears as you realized what he was referring to, and you’d never felt betrayal like this in your life. “Fuck you, Rafe.”
He groaned and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes like his brain had flipped a switch. “Fuck, that’s not- no. No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”
“You did!” You spat as tears fell down your cheeks. Kiara’s gaze was burning into the side of your head as she watched the two of you argue, no words coming to mind as she watched you cry. “You always mean it!”
Pope clocked your distance immediately. He knew you wouldn’t be super warm and energetic after coming back from the Camerons’, even less so with John B in prison. He knew that, but there was something off about it. You weren’t just hiding away to cope, you were hiding in pain.
From the subtle wincing, the paleness in your skin, and slow movements, something was wrong. At first he chalked it up to getting your nutrition back and sleeping properly, but when it didn’t improve, Pope knew he needed to step in.
It didn’t come to that, though. You’d pulled him away from plotting on how to catch Ward and Rafe and into the hushed space of your room. As much as you wanted to handle it all on your own, you knew if any of your friends could keep things down low and quiet, it would be Pope.
“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice soothing and concerned as you paced in front of your bed.
The darkness in your eyes was so sad, and so terrified that Pope was worried you were too far past where he could help. You stopped in front of him, hands shaking as you laid out the details of your concern..
“I need your help, Pope. Please, I don’t know what to do.”
Rafe paced a few steps and shook his head. “You know, I came here to try and do you a solid, a-and you just push my buttons every time that-“ He paused and let out a deep breath. “I want to be better. I want to try and be a good brother, and fix what happened but,” He snapped his fingers in front of your eyes and you stumbled back. “You guys always wonder why you end up at the bottom of the food chain, it’s…it’s sad.”
You almost choked on your tears and attempted to give him the most menacing glare but it was useless. Stabbing you in the heart would’ve been less painful than this.
He walked around the counter to face you directly and you decided then you had nothing to lose. If he killed you, it would be welcomed at this point. He’d shredded you down to bones and still couldn’t stop taking digs at the scars left behind.
Every movement of his body screamed addiction withdrawal, and while you hoped he could be better for Sofia, you didn’t believe he could change. You wished the light in his eyes would fucking burn, that you didn’t have the empathy to hope for him to get better but God, you did. You wished Rafe Cameron would’ve been a better person. And you wish the world wouldn’t have been so cruel to him that he could’ve been better to you.
Rafe’s hand was shaking as he placed it on your arm gently. His face contorted when you gasped like he’d burned you and he pulled back. Instead, he reached into his pocket and held out a small card between his fingers. “I… this is my business card. Tell Sarah to call me, I think I can help. Or… or if you need anything to help, okay? I’m not your enemy.”
Silence hovered the three of you, Kiara’s fingers in your back pocket as you stood eye to eye with the person who ruined your entire past and most of your future. He must’ve realized you had nothing to say and dismissed himself from the store without another word.
The second the bell rang with his exit, your knees gave out and hit the floor. You gasped and heaved for air, threatening to throw up the breakfast JJ had made you.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Kiara reassured as you sobbed. “He’s gone.”
You forced a deep breath in your lungs and held it as long as possible. You were so sick of crying and feeling useless when everyone else seemed to take it all in strides and you were left a broken piece at the starting line. Life was so cruel to you, and now, more than ever, you wanted to give up on trying to run from the impending reminder that Rafe Cameron scarred you in more ways than one.
“Breathe,” Kiara reminded you as she scanned your eyes for any sign of pain. “John B!”
The yell for your brother had you clamming up as you jumped to stop her. There were so many tears on your face and you looked so scared. “No, don’t call John B.”
Kie shook her head, utterly confused and concerned by your actions. “You’ve gotta tell me what’s going on.”
You whimpered and laid back on the floor with a shaky breath. “I will, but you have to swear on your life not to tell anyone. Not John B, none of them, okay?
If Kiara wasn’t so rattled by the last twenty minutes, she would’ve probably agreed with crossed fingers for your safety. But seeing you like this, so raw in front of her after she’d yelled at you for expressing your feelings, she nodded. “Yeah, okay. Okay. I swear.”
It took a few more deep breaths to settle enough to speak without hiccuped sobs seeping in your words. And so you told her. You told her what happened in the Camerons’ house, how Rafe had left you with more than surface level scars and how you’d never forgiven yourself for giving up, for letting him win.
Because some people only got one chance at family, and Rafe Cameron had taken that from you before you even had the slightest idea what life would mean without it.
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a/n: broke this chap into two parts to give you more original content in the next one! more insight into the reader's time at the cameron house ;)
#ghost of you#goy series#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank smut#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x routledge!reader#routledge!reader#john b routledge#kiara carerra#pope heyward#sarah cameron#outer banks#obx4#obx x reader#outer banks series#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader#outer banks jj#jj x you#jj maybank#jj maybank x you
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ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ UNSPOKEN. ✧ KENJI S. { 𝐈 }.
✰ — PART 1 ; mentions of kenji having some deep; untold sadness, emi mention, the reader being the sunshine friend to kenji + having close relationship.
✰ — probably will have more two - three parts of the story! tried to fit in one part, but it doesn't work somehow ( ╥ω╥ ) to those who wanted to be tagged in the next future parts, feel free to comment or send me an ask <33 !! ✩₊˚. PART 2.
. dividers by @/strangergraphics ⛓ !!
GROWING UP, for almost his entire life, KENJI— regardless of the increase of popularity and fame, doesn't really have that much of friends. Does he even have them at this point? He doesn't really have anyone that he could actually rely on; even trusted fully.
Despite everything from the outside of one's possible perspective, he's still the lonely, sweet boy deep down. None has ever truly cracked his persona down and managed to bring out his true self, which a part of him is glad for some reason— but the other, not so much.
The attention that he has received all over the world doesn't really mean anything, not what he silently craved and secretly desperate for.
Companionship, someone who actually cares about his wellbeing as a whole despite his ongoing status.
Yes, of course, he loves the fact that he's able to accomplish something that's quite significant to him, at least— getting all of the attention that they think he truly deserved, but there will always be this one void within his heart; as if begging to be fixed with something that even he himself wasn't so sure about it.
His mansion may have everything that he ever needed, but it still feels bleak, somehow, no matter what he's trying to do. What's the point of having large spaces, when in the end, the mere silence will be his only company?
Kenji doesn't even realize it, but sometimes, he ended up just staring blankly at the empty gaps of his surroundings; feeling lost at the said moment.
His world has been nothing but simply revolving around his stardom life as much as the realization hits him; an endless, monochromatic-colored world that he tacitly faced alone with some fair, or unfair number of struggles.
"Must be a tough day today, yeah Ken?"
"You should take some more needed breaks, at least!" He swiftly got pulled out of his train of thoughts, eyes immediately glancing to the source of sound. This is his reality now, not the one that he keeps on unconsciously reminiscing of.
"Pushing yourself too hard wouldn't be too good for your health, y'know." A euphonious voice scolded him lightly, accompanied with a bright, albeit concerned grin.
Kenji now took notice of you standing by the doorway; your smile remained despite the visible apprehensive look that was directed towards him. Completely aware of the mere truth behind your words alone, he averts his gaze back elsewhere— cracking a small, yet almost forceful of a smile as if he's trying to ease down your concerns.
"Yeah, you got a point. It's just the usual, I guess," he scratches the back of his head while lazily slouching on the bed. "It's not me if I don't mope over some pointless stuff."
"Well, it's not that pointless if it bothers you." You exhale out, gradually pulling him out of the bed.
"Maybe we can try something for the day— maybe you wanted to play baseball for a bit? I'll watch 'cuz you know I suck at those."
He couldn't hold back the snort from escaping, which earned a disapproving pout from you, but nonetheless, you added further.
"Or we could just play around with baby Emi as always! Or both, I don't know.."
"Perhaps that could at least ease your mind for a bit..?"
He could clearly sense your efforts; chuckling as he knows that he doesn't have any other plausible choices, but to simply follow your lead without any complaints. When it comes to you, Kenji knew it would always be futile to try anything quite the contrary from it.
"That sounds nice, actually." A genuine smile, despite the hints of his exhaustion, tugged at the corner of his lips. Has he even noticed it himself on how easy it is for you to coax him out of his shell? "Playing with Emi sounds amazing."
Kenji admitted along with a smirk being present by now, replacing his previous smile while doing some mini stretches here and there.
"I know!" You merely giggled over his words, "Besides, I just know that the baby already misses you. I fed her earlier too, in case you're wondering!" His pretty, midnight-colored eyes seemed to brighten up after you finished speaking for a bit.
"At this rate, I think you're spoiling her a bit too much," he castigated facetiously, earning an eyeroll from you when one of his hands ended up atop of your head— giving it a playful ruffle.
"Well, what can I say.."
"She's just a cute, big baby."
His genuine smile returned in mere seconds, finding the whole idea to be quite endearing; causing for him to feel the warmth that's starting to blossom within his chest. He's totally aware of his whole responsibility at this point— unintentionally, yet welcoming the idea of becoming a father to the baby kaiju, now willingly to take care of her because she's one of the reasons that actually changed him for the better.
Throughout the whole conversation that the two of you have shared with one another, it seemed as if the burdens on his shoulders has been lifted away; the atmosphere becoming more comfortably lighter than before without you even realizing it yourself.
Kenji doesn't even know how, but your sole presence has something in particular that keeps him grounded, and he values you deeply for that.
Even with such mystery that's been shrouding around you, it never really bothered him that much; respecting your boundaries and taking an immediate notice on how you seemed to be uncomfortable with talking about your own past and parents, in a way. He assumed that something might have happened before, hence the vague details you kept telling him— no irritation present ever.
Maybe someday, you'll have the courage to tell him. But for now, you would rather keep it a secret.
@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.
#aria's post 𖥔 ݁ ˖#kenji sato#kenji sato x reader#kenji sato x y/n#kenji sato x you#ken sato#ken sato x reader#ken sato x y/n#ken sato x you#kenji sato fanfic#kenji sato fluff#ken sato fluff#ultraman#ultraman rising
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FALLING FOR YOU ; MV1
max verstappen x reader
. . . in his own little way, max finds the solutions to his problems not without a little help from his friends and ends up giving you the confession of a lifetime
amgf yeah... there's this, just fluff. i won't be as active this week because of exams and research but this is prime time of my impulsive ideas so either i can milk this opportunity to write every single day, or avoid this app for the remainder of the week. enjoy 👍
Max strives for stability.
He enjoys the same routine that consists of jogging at eight am, early morning workout by nine am, brunch, a few rounds of sim racing, stopping by for a few phone calls and online meetings. If he isn’t expected to fly anywhere else he’d have his usual afternoon snack, play with his cats, more sim racing from six to eight pm, dinner with his team, reviewing data and notes, an hour for his own leisure— mostly sim racing, before heading to bed at one am.
Whatever happens in between is usually one of Lando’s plans in an attempt to spice things up in his life. Whether it’s going to the movies, buying ice cream at the convenience store down the street, or playing padel. Max is very much thankful for his friends.
Max also strives for the best.
He takes pride in his skills in racing and acknowledges his talent, and flaws. Honing them like a sharp knife through whetstones, he polishes himself and cuts through the defenses of the grid. He is a World Champion for a reason, and with a great car and team behind him, he knows they’ll get far. Max is very much thankful for the trust his team set upon him.
Max hates uncertainty.
Well- hate is too strong of a word and dislike would be too weak for his opinions.
Max despises uncertainty.
Especially when there’s you- the current root of all his “problems”. Despite his tendency to be blunt and straightforward statements, uncertainty always left a distasteful feeling in his mouth.
Realizing that his wavering feelings for you have now shattered the routine he built to perfection. Long gone are sleeping on time and hello to staying up with you crowding his thoughts. Head full of the lingering scent of your perfume and the same voice playing in his head.
Max hated it. He despised how you orbit around his mind, bouncing through the walls of the gray matter inside his skull. He often catches himself smiling at the thought of you- before a bitter scowl fills his face and an incredulous and slightly constipated look pasted on his face.
But that was the least of his worries, such feelings could be fixed (a term he used to convince himself these are temporary). It’s not that Max doesn’t believe in relationships or think it’s nothing but a distraction, deep inside he’s aware that he craves affection. It’s the vague emotions clouding his heart making him think twice.
Then again, Max is thankful for his friends.
“What did you say?” Lando squinted his eyes in the hopes to hear his words clearly. With a blank look- almost as if he put on a mask void of emotions Max spoke once more.
“Do I like YN?”
The rest tilted their head to the side, in confusion. “D-did you perhaps ask us. . . if- if you like someone?” George, asked once more to make sure of his words, sighing in disbelief.
“It’s not just someone, it’s YN.” Max pushed the question once more and glanced at everyone on the table.
The silence was deafening. Max’ statement was too loud and too quiet at the same time, no one spoke and they left each other contemplating on the next words he will say.
“I need help. How do I know I like YN?” Collective gasps were heard throughout and one by one they slowly left the group of friends on the table leaving Max with Lando and George.
“How about we sleep over your question and. . .think— think about it you know?” Lando, the first to talk regarding the revelation that their stoic friend has now developed feelings for someone.
“Sleep? I hardly get any sleep these nights. I want to confirm my feelings now so I can finally sleep peacefully.”
That’s when the pair noticed the bags under his eyes, mostly due to the lack of sleep like he said. Lando took a glance at George and started to talk telepathically at each other.
George sighs before pushing Max from his seat, “You see Max these feelings can’t be confirmed in a night, these requ-”
“It’s been weeks, George, I can’t lose sleep over such a trivial matter.” Max retorted with a firm stance using his lack of sleep as a front to confirm his feelings.
“Okay, first of all feelings are not a trivial matter. They are valid, and whatever is going on in your head about YN shouldn’t be taken lightly. Not because we’re curious but because we care about your emotional well being.” Lando spoke in a serious voice which only added on to Max’ confusion.
Feelings are not a big deal, at least not for him.
“And we're curious as to why you like YN.” George chimed as he followed the pair outside the room.
“Yes we’re curious but now how about I give you some romance books that you can study and read. Only you can confirm your feelings Max, let’s stop by my room and I’ll give you books you can read and next week- next week we’ll talk about this matter again.”
Lando now sounds like a mom scolding his child for misbehaving, dragging the latter to his room and sending him off with a tower of romance books.
Max is smart, he can understand such concepts by himself.
Feeling accomplished, Lando glanced at George smirking at him before walking away with Max to his apartment.
Max on the other hand went inside his room and began to bury himself in the books he brought along. “If I’m not sleeping at least I get my feelings in line.”
One chapter. And another turns to five and in the blink of an eye a week has passed. Max returned to his routine but instead of sleeping at one he pushed it to an even later hour to make time for reading which helped him sleep.
The first nights were hard, after finishing a chapter of the book he finds himself falling asleep and now you appear to become more vivid in his mind. Invading his dreams as romantic scenarios play on repeat while Max mindlessly sleeps which results in him waking up flustered and warm.
Passing by you on the paddock became frequent; it's as if the universe has its way to bring you together. Now everywhere Max looked there was you, in the corner of his sight you occupied a chunk of his thoughts and as much as he hated to admit he found himself anticipating your presence.
By the end of the week you managed to invade his thoughts and heart which only strengthened his theory and confirmed his feelings for you. With no time to waste, Max went to look for you. The second practice was over, he’s telling you what you’re doing to him.
With new found information from the team about your whereabouts, Max made his way to the hospitality locating where you’re assigned he opens the door abruptly to see you preparing food. You stand straight feeling the intimidating aura around him, you watch him exhale a sigh of relief before talking a large step in your direction. On instinct you back away giving him space, every step Max takes is a step backward from you.
Unknowingly your feet hit the corner of the marble countertop and like a cliché scene Max remembers from the books he’s been reading you stumble backwards.
Max is a racer for a reason, and with swift reflexes he managed to catch your fall and brought you up to your feet. “You should watch where you’re going. I don’t want you falling just like how I fell for you.”
Silence. Complete, utter silence from the both of you paired with the low buzz of the booming air conditioner right near you. You blink your eyes incredulously, “What?”
“I mean. . . I do want you to fall for me, it would be sad to find out that my feelings are one-sided. But I mean my words YN.”
You adjust your posture and back away. “What are the words Max? About me falling to the ground or you. . . you f- falling for me?” Your voice thins out at the end unsure of what you just heard.
“Both. I don’t want you to fall, it’s dangerous just like how you did to me. You enamored me with those charms, I just want to know how you did it.” Max spoke with the most bored and plain looking face he could muster up. His palms were sweating inside his pockets in extreme nervousness.
“Is this- is this your confession perhaps?” You try to piece things together, like the subtle clues Lando and George have been leaving out of nowhere.
“Yes. This is my confession.” Max blurts out as sweat drips from the side of his forehead. And just as he was losing hope from this failed confession your bubbly laugh bursts the silence in the air.
“You know, you need to work on your confession more. That was unlike any other, but I understand what you mean. Do you want me to fall for you, Maxie?”
Max stares at you and you don't miss the soft gaze he set upon you. You note the light blush spread around the apples of his cheeks as his eyes light up the moment you called his name. The once awkward silent air was now filled with a warm feeling that spread all over your body, leaving goosebumps all over your skin.
“I do. I fell for you, I like you, and I want to mean something to you.”
His way with words caught you off guard, Max Verstappen, who would’ve thought. You smile at him, this time it’s you walking towards his direction.
Max stiffened at the proximity between the two of you, his feet stuck to the floor preventing him from backing away. Your face gets closer to his and all the thoughts clouding his mind have been wiped away.
You face him and whisper something in his ear before walking away towards the kitchen at the back, legs shaking and breaths heavy.
Taking a moment to himself Max meditates in an attempt to calm his bouncing heart, legs shaking as if they ran a hundred miles, and his mind whirring into different ideas and possibilities.
Max never falls- literally and figuratively.
Yet you managed to be the root of all his problems. The person who made him fall, there was no doubt that Max fell and will still be falling for you.
#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine
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I recently became VERY interested in your Minecraft stuff, and I'd like to ask a question... In one of drawings, an illager tells Steve that "We can cheat death too," does this imply that the players CAN actually respawn just like how we can in Minecraft and if they can respawn how does it work?? And how do the villagers react to Steve just respawning?
Yes, they can!
Since you’ve been looking through my stuff you probably already know that players in Abiogenesis are constructs. While I sometimes call them robots, they are technically more like golems and whatnot, which are powered by magic, except far more advanced. The little metal port above a player’s heart is their soul core, and that is, you guessed it, where their soul lives, and what gives them life and sapience. Players can regenerate flesh on their body that has been lost or sustained damage in an injury. If the damage is so severe (or done to a specific vulnerable area like the neck or stomach, aka something that would be fatal) the player “dies” temporarily so it’s body can devote all it’s energy into repairing itself.
How does this work?
Well, their soul core sends the soul into stasis. It is temporarily phased out of the corporeal realm. In the Abiogenesis/Minecraft world, when anything living dies, its soul phases into a non-corporeal dimension called the Otherside and releases magical energy in the form of Experience. This occurs with players, however, what allows them to return is the fact the soul does not travel onward. It is tethered to the port, and only temporarily stays in the O.S. Eventually, once the body is fit to return to, the soul makes its way back into the port, and the player is alive again. These periods of “death” usually last 24 hours, though severe structural damage can render them dead for up to a week. They will not respawn in their last place of rest like in-game, wherever their body lies will be where they awaken.
Players lose a small amount of Experience when they die, and will wake up delirious and faint, with minor memory loss. Sort of a “death hangover”. They will also be ravenously hungry, as their bodies need to regenerate the calories lost from fixing their body. They also may experience trauma symptoms from the cause of death (e.g, death by fire makes them frightened of a campfire or a fireplace) though these will eventually subside.
Players can be killed permanently. Netherite is strong enough to destroy the soul core, as is extreme heat (im talking instantly vaporized levels of heat) and the Void. The Void obliterates all corporeal matter that is not voidborn upon contact, so a player falling into it will straight up cease to exist. There would be no afterlife in the Otherside, just Nothing — complete oblivion.
Villagers would be freaked the hell out for starters. Steve isn’t fully aware he isn’t a biological person (he suspects it, but he’s sort of in denial), all he would know is that he feels sick and there’s a huge chunk of time missing. Since the village steve lives in knows Steve and trusts him, they would not necessarily take it as a bad omen. They would likely hold a village meeting about it and try to make sense of the whole shabang. Reinard had a religious vision regarding the Hosts shortly before he adopted Steve, so he already believes deep down that Steve is, in some way, blessed by the hosts. This, alongside Steve’s other player-y quirks, would solidify that in his mind.
#minecraft#mineblr#my writing#minecraft abiogenesis#minecraft headcanons#minecraft player#minecraft steve
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my unasked-for input in the jeremy discourse
been seeing a lot of jeremy knox discussion as of late while mindlessly scrolling thru the aftg tag so i've decided it's time to step in. spoilers ahead continue at ur own risk.
the main criticism of jeremy i've seen in the fandom is the way he treats/deals with jean's situation. a lot of people think he's just not doing a good job and can be insensitive or thoughtless at times. i'd like to counter this by saying: he's doing his best, and he's actually doing pretty well.
the aftg fandom at large has this superiority issue where they seem to always know the right thing and the right way to go. i'm gonna remind y'all that we are very used to the foxes and andreil, and the trojans are a totally different environment to the one we've been acclimatised to. the foxes are not well-adjusted AT ALL and to an outsider's eye the way they deal with each other is probably really cruel and rude at times. it works for them because they're in similar positions in life and have no time for politeness and courtesy, and the only way for them to work together is to work out all the fights and issues head-on, with little concern for hurt feelings. it works for them, but that doesn't mean it's the best or only way to go for anyone else.
jeremy may have an untold backstory of his own, but i think we can all agree that he's much more well-adjusted than jean, who has been living in an abusive cult environment for years. the trojans and jeremy are completely unfamiliar to jean, but so is jean to jeremy. jeremy has no idea the full extent of jean's past and history of abuse, so you can imagine his shock and horror when he finally begins to realise the ugly details of what happened to him.
there's a lot of emphasis on action and reaction in the way the fandom sees characters and relationships, but not a lot on intention. i think, no matter the mistakes jeremy makes, his intentions are good. he wants to support jean and help him in his healing journey. was it wrong of him to tell cat and laila what happened in jean's freshman year without his permission? yes, of course. but i think people need to consider that jeremy is literally only human. he's a 22 year old boy who has unresolved issues of his own that's just trying to do the best he can with what he has. he shouldn't have talked about jean's past without his consent, but it's important to know that he didn't do it with malicious intent or just to gossip. he probably genuinely thought it was the right way to go to let cat and laila know, so they can help jean better by knowing what happened. it wasn't the right thing to do, but honestly i think people in the fandom are more pressed about it than jean is. jean remarks on it and seems a bit annoyed, both with himself for telling jeremy and jeremy for telling the girls, but he doesn't hold it against jeremy and clearly still trusts him. jean knows that jeremy wants the best for him, and is doing his best, and the fandom should remember that too.
i think a lot of the issues the fandom has w jeremy and also jerejean is that they seem to think jeremy is going to "heal" jean. i cannot explain how much this take boils my blood because people can't "heal" other people. healing is a complicated and long process that requires, yes, help from others, but also changes in perspective, environment and core belief. jeremy alone is not going to fix jean and make him good as new, and that attitude towards them is unhelpful when analysing the narrative. jean's slow journey of healing comes from the combination of: a huge change in environment (the mob mindset of the raven's nest -> the sunshine court), a support network (jeremy, cat, laila, wymack, the trojans, occasionally kevin and neil), a change in mindset (both towards exy as a sport and towards relationships with others and a relationship with himself) and simply time. no one person can heal another, and no matter how large a role jeremy plays in jean's healing, he knows he can't do it on his own. so do the other people around jean. it's why cat takes him on a motorbike ride, just to let him relax and see the world. it's why renee doesn't get jean to stay with her, because she knows how good the trojans will be for him. jeremy is not going to heal jean, but he can definitely help him with it.
the last and arguably most important thing is this: jean trusts jeremy. y'all can talk about how jean is traumatised and unfamiliar with the world outside the nest but i swear to god this fandom babies and uwufies him to unbelievable extents. jean may be unspeakably traumatised and at the end of his rope, but he is an adult, and he does have agency. he understands that jeremy cares about him and his wellbeing, and he trusts jeremy. jeremy isn't perfect. he's inevitably going to make mistakes and do questionable things along the way, but i don't think he's at all impeding jean's healing or growth, and he is doing everything with genuine good intentions. one person's definition of the "right" thing to do is not objective and all-encompassing. jeremy may do things that offend you, and that you would hate, but everyone has a different opinion on these things. do you guys remember the conversation between andreil after dr*ke's attack, when neil pushes andrew just to see him crack? if u think about it on an objective level, it was wrong, even cruel, to press someone about their history of trauma after a horribly traumatic event has just happened to them. but andrew doesn't hold it against neil, and doesn't even seem all that bothered by it. i think the aftg fandom would do well to look at things and events that happen in the books in context and stop thinking that there is only one right answer to every question and only one correct solution in every situation. just because something would be a no-go for you, doesn't mean it would be for everyone, and that goes for fictional characters as much as it goes for real life.
anyway i just find it so interesting how critical and quick to judge people are when it comes to jeremy, when, objectively, the foxes and even andreil have done probably more pressing and objectively "wrong" things to each other. if u read the series back, there are a lot of times when they push and challenge each other's boundaries, but there's an understanding that that is the best way for them to engage with each other. it would do everyone a lot of good to apply the same attitude to the sunshine court, considering how vastly different of a context this new series is in.
#jeremy defender till my dying day#i swear to god people expect every character to be perfect and make no mistakes#he is NOT going to meet every standard he's literally just a person and he's going to make mistakes but he's trying his best#and that makes him a good and realistic character#leave him alone god#aftg#all for the game#the sunshine court#tsc#zoe yaps#jeremy knox#jean moreau#jerejean#the golden raven#tgr#neil josten#andrew minyard#andreil
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Heyy!! How you doing?~ I wanted to ask who do you think out of TFP's autobots would be most to least husband or boyfriend material 🫣🫣
Yippieee, 1st ask!! ヾ(≧ ▽ ≦)ゝI am the worst person you could have asked for a tier list of whom is good husband material and not so good (shaking TFP Starscream with her tiny hands). /j
WARNING: This all based on myyy own opinion, logic and what I know from the Prime series - so, all fun! Never take seriously what I say! Also, too much text.
(´艸`) ~
Transformers Prime - Most to Least husband material
MOST
Bumblebee - Baby boy, would be such a good husband. Soft and protective, good with kids, comprensive - the list can keep going! Perfection in person. (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
Optimus Prime - He is good husband material, but I fear his selflessness and will to give his life for the sake of others, specially you, can be a double edged sword... but he is nonetheless a good candidate to be husband.
Soundwave - A genius, intelligent, has sense of humor - can be quite stalkerish if you think about it, but it's loyal and definitely protective. If you don't mind the silence and the pattern of his speech, he is good husband material! Maybe the only thing that rests him points would be that he would give you a death scare if you forget he is there for a second.
Bulkhead & Breakdown - Same tier, both give me the vibes of 'I am a big guy, strong and ready to protect you' and 'the guy that will make you laugh, listen to you and can be quite naive (at some degree)'. They would be perfect to give you comfort and support, but have their flaws - impulsiveness, might not give the right answers or words in the moment. Nonetheless, good husband material, just be patience and easy with them! (Of course give them a slap at the back of their helms when needed).
Knock Out & Smokescreen - Same tier and like BH/BD; they can be good husband material, but I fear both can come off sometimes annoying because of their personalities. KO could be annoying because of his quite egocentric personality and Smokes is a yapper and quite impulsive. Buuut they are not the worst, good husband material with its flaws.
Arcee (Yes, I am adding her here (bisexual noises) & Cliffjumper - A duo as always, they can be good wife/husband material, buuut with how easy things can get in their nerves (speaking more on Cee's side since... well, we only had Cliff for 1 episode-), you'll need both patience and put your limits/stance if you want the relationship to work. And reassurance on Arcee's side. She has lost many partners already, you will need to show her kindness and softness, comfort and support. And she will pay you back the same and protect you dearly.
Ratchet - The middle point; I love Ratchet dearly, but I fear with the war and how much he has lost, adding to the fact he has decided to close himself off on some emotional levels in order to not 'keep suffering and focus on his tasks' he can be a 'good husband material but with it's difficulties'. Will need patience, reassurance and perseverance on this,
Starscream - Like Ratchet, but worse. Starscream can be a double-faced mech that is both a victim of abuse and his own problems (not able to trust others, cowardly, hurting others before he gets hurt, doing anything to get his own way) and also the culprit of making other victims. He is a mix of too many things, but we know he is loyal, and I'm sure that with time, too much patience and reassurance, he could become husband material. It's a "I can fix him" and it could work! ... or not.
Wheeljack - Yeah... I like him, but I'll have my doubts. I fear he might not be that a good material husband with how much he is travelling and moving from place to place. And I also fear there is a 50% he won't be that faithful or take your feelings in the matter as something important to evaluate. I love you Jacky, but the 'husband material' might not be quite here.
Megatron - Yeah... could work. Protective, secure of himself... quite aggressive, could snap or hurt you. If you add the dark energon, could hurt you badly or... offline you. Worst part, I think it could happen intentionally or, if it happnes by accident, will not mourn you. The 'I need someone strong as me, not weak' is playing in my head. (;′⌒`)
Dreadwing - Will be loyal, but with how he is prone to be aggressive and get physical, idolizing Megatron - I fear if the latter orders him to do something with you... might do it. (°ロ°)
Shockwave - Nuh-huh, always puts rational thoughts before feelings, and he might not be thaaat far from hurting you if he wants something for his own gain or use you as an experiment (actively or passive, might not see you 100% as an equal).
Airachnid - Haha. No. I support women rights and wrongs but cheez - doesn't totally see you as an equal and I fear she is ready to offline you if you are no longer something 'usable' for her.
LEAST
I think that's all of them! Just took the main-important ones in my point of view. As you can see, I like to write, I am yapper after all. (。・ω・。) Vhaos out!
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Tarot investigation : a portrait of your divine counterpart
In this reading, we are trying to figure out details about your divine counterpart. If the description I make sounds familiar to you, this may be an indication that you have met them. If it sounds like you, it may mean that your counterpart mirrors you. As this is a collective reading, you may not resonate with all that is said so keep that in mind as you check your group.
Group 1
Key words : Leo, Taurus, stubbornness, communication, mind over body, dedication, fixed sign energy, "man of principles", Seo Changbin vibes, LGBTQIA+ ally, gender fluid, fighter
Personality | Strength & knight of swords
We have someone here that is extremely opinionated. Once they have an idea in mind it is hard to change their point of view. This is someone that is educated and a good strategist. They spend a lot of time thinking, analyzing, observing. Their actions match their train of thought. They have an unwavering mindset. They are bold, confident, stubborn, cutting. Their mind is sharp and intense. They could tend to overthink at times. They value mental connection and stimulation, maturity in decision making, alignment between a person's ideals and their day to day attitude. This is someone that talks the talk and walks the walk. When they say they're gonna do something, they stick to their word. They give a high importance to their principles and they would rather die than leave them aside. They are extremely prideful. This is someone that can both be pretty optimistic at times but also very harsh on themselves. They expect nothing but the best and they will do anything in their power to get there. They are competitive af. They do not back down from a challenge. They may enjoy being in the spotlight and may find themselves at the center of drama because of that. They have a very flamboyant personality. This is the type of person that isn't afraid to express their opinions in society, no matter what others might think of them. This is also someone that has a combative spirit. They cannot stand injustice. So you can be sure that if they ever feel like something is unfair, they will speak up about it.
Appearance | knight of pentacles & ace of cups
In appearance, this is someone that is very jovial and approachable. They smile a lot and their presence is inviting. They look very polite and well mannered. They are likely to be tall and have a youthfull look to them. They may have a round face and/ or dimples. Their body is strong, their posture is good. They tend to keep their head high and square off their shoulders, especially if they lift weights. They look reliable and trust worthy. I feel like their sense of fashion is quite simple but aesthetically pleasing. They prefer practical clothing over fashionable ones. They like to feel comfortable in their shoes but this person is astonishing nontheless. They are conventionally attractive. They got the baby face with the dad body if they identify as a "man". Or the hourglass body figure with the doll look if they identify as a "woman". But I feel like this person is pretty fluid when it comes to their gender and even their style. So maybe one day, this person can come to work wearing one style and the next look completely different and somehow that doesn't surprise anyone. They even rock the outfit completely. Like, I'm picturing a guy that tends to wear rather dark street wear suddenly come to work wearing a skirt and heels and that wouldn't shock any of their colleagues. It's like this person has a very unique and fluid sense of style, but no matter what they do or wear, they always look very sensual and natural. They may advocate for unisex clothing, for diversity in general especially when it comes to fashion, sexual and gender identity.
Interests | 8 of wands & 8 of pentacles
This person values hard work and dedication in everything that they do. With the combined energy of the 8 of wands and the 8 of pentacles, I pick on the energy of someone that is very active on a day to day basis. They do a lot of physical activity of all kinds because they enjoy movement above anything else. They don't like feeling stuck or still. They may be a bit hyperactive. But I feel like this person would enjoy certain activities more than others, especially very competitive ones. So think of martial arts, athletism, body building. They could also enjoy extreme sports or very challenging activities like bungee jumping, sky diving, parkour, mountaineering and so on. I'm picking up on a lot of outdoor activities. If you associate 8 of wands with fast action and 8 of pentacles with hard labor, you get activities like cross fit, HIIT training and so on. But more than that, this person just enjoys pushing past their limits and expanding. So any activity that would get them out of their comfort zone would interest them. They also enjoy travelling, walking, hiking. Urbex is also coming to mind. Just so you know, this person is restless and has a lot of energy to spend, especially when it comes to bed time activities. They have a lot of stamina and may be horny 24/7.
Additional information | 9 of pentacles & 10 of swords
This person is likely to be single at the moment. Their job allows them to live a comfortable life. They are independent and focusing on their material life. They may have gone through a break up recently. That or a difficult phase in their life. This may be about a romantic connection, a platonic connection, a contract of some sort. This may be about their family, their health or their career. It depends on each individual. The common theme is that this person may not be emotionally available when you meet, if that hasn't already happened. This may be someone that tends to isolate themselves and values their inner peace a lot. They may have struggled with depression.
Group 2
Keywords : Taurus, water signs, giving, peaceful, commited, believer of God, traditions, cinnamon roll in disguise
Personality | 10 of pentacles & ace of pentacles
This is someone that is hopeful, accepting, optimistic. They are open minded and very mature. They like to see the glass half full and choose to believe in the good of mankind. This is a family person, a community person. Someone that values kinship, friendship, trust. They always take their time and do things with the utmost care. This is someone that likes to be helpful, that gives valuable advice. Someone peaceful, quiet, sometimes shy or reserved but always generous and kind. They like novelty but they value security above anything else. So compared to group 1's person, this person may not get out of their comfort zone very often. They like to remain organized and in control of what is going on. They like to know that things are safe and predictable. This is someone that likes patterns. They always do the same things at the same time with the same people. They value tradition, hard work, dedication, but more importantly they value authenticity. This is a person that is very respectful and polite. They would never cause harm to anyone. They are extremely cautious and always proceeds the same way because it reassures them and ensures reliability for others. This is someone that isn't afraid to spend their time, money on things and people because they know it is useful. They would never deny someone of their help. This is someone with a very tranquil and stable personality. With so much Earth energy, they may have a hard time expressing their feelings but this is someone that you can always count on to support and cheer others.
Appearance | 7 of wands & 3 of cups
This is someone that may look a bit cocky or like they are defying others. Their stance and posture may show a certain level of confidence but also a certain tension, like they're ready to fight anytime. This may be because they feel a bit uncomfortable around large amounts of people. They look reliable to some extent, at least they look like they can fight and should not be messed with. They also have a playful vibe to them. So I picture someone very laid back, that doesn't really care about how they look or fashion. They prefer practical and simple clothes. So think of baggy jeans, sneakers, sweat pants, sweat shirts. They may wear boots, leather jackets. Things that are a bit old school but never go out of fashion. Their appearance may be a bit different from who they are on the inside. So they may try to appear a bit more cocky and bold than they actually are to keep people at arms length. So if this person identifies as a "woman", they may wear clothes that make them look more "manly" so to speak. A bit of a tomboy look. But not necessarily. If they identify as a "man", maybe kind of a biker/military look. I'm picking up on bead bracelets and leather bands, piercings, bold silver rings. Kind of a Johnny Depp look. Or if we remain on the Kpop side, I think the artists that would best match the vibe I'm picking up on are Lee Know from SKZ, San/Seonghwa from Ateez and Ryujin from Itzy. There's some sort of duality to them. So maybe their looks is plain but they wear colorful accessories or bold makeup.
Interests | ace of cups & 9 of pentacles
This person likes to spend time with friends and family mainly. But their also into helping others, sharing similar interests. They may enjoy creative activities like doing DIYs, farming, gardening and such. They may enjoy cooking. I'm also picking up on community work, raising funds, helping others in general. This may be the type of person that does a lot of acts of service around them, out of pure generosity. They'll help the elders even if they don't know them, look out for children and make sure they safely get back home, help strangers looking for directions. They may work with humanitarian organizations, advocate for several causes. They may pray a lot or spend time contemplating on life. They just love sharing and connecting with people of all horizons, feeling like they belong somewhere. Their job may involve healing, care, sharing of experience. They like chilling out in nature, walking in public gardens, watching people have fun. Seeing people happy makes them happy even if they, themselves, aren't doing anything. They like tranquility and moments of unity. They may enjoy going to the theater alone, camping, painting and such.
Additional information | 7 of cups, Hierophant
Though they may be presented with many options and have many suitors, this person doesn't care if these cannot fulfill them on a spiritual level. Remember, this person values authenticity. They also value loyalty and commitment. Traditions matter to them a lot. So does education and the law. Respect is a must. If this person feels disrespected in any way, they won't have any problem cutting you off. This is also someone that is extremely curious and seeks for knowledge. Any opportunity they get to learn about others and themselves, they will take. When you meet them, this person will likely be open to dating but they will be looking for a serious and committed relationship right from the get go. They don't play around, they don't f**k around. They're not into one night stands or open relationships. No, they want the exclusive long-term relationship they've always envisioned, the one dictated by the ideals and beliefs that they were raised in, that they value deeply. This is the type of person that is likely to marry and have children. This person is single and ready to mingle.
Group 3
Key words : Taurus, Aries, Pisces, childhood friend, soulmate, calm and collected, caring, mischief, LGBTQIA+ member/ally, unaware of their own power
Personality | 4 of pentacles & page of wands + knight of wands
This person is quite shy and reserved, especially around strangers. However, they show their true face when they feel safe. This is someone that is cheerful, lively, a bit of a trickster. They enjoy life, they love to have fun with their close circle. They love to be in the comfort of their home. They may be a bit immature at times and narrow minded but that is never meant to hurt anyone. They’re just set in their ways and a little inexperienced. They are quite creative and imaginative, curious as well to some extent but they tend to refrain from doing certain activities, maybe out of fear. This is someone that enjoys routines and rarely changes anything about their life. However they crave for more, they like adventure and they can be bold at times. This is someone that isn’t fully aware of their skills and power. They’re the life of the party and they could shine so bright but they tend to hide it most of the time or ignore the fire inside. This could be someone that was taught to feel ashamed of themselves for some reason. Maybe because of the way they look or what they believe in.
Appearance | Hierophant & Fool
This person has a very juvenile look. But also a very conservative one. They’re likely to blend in the crowd. They may be religious so they may wear a veil for example. Or very traditional clothes associated with their culture. If not, this person tends to wear baggy clothes, very simple clothing that doesn’t stand out that much. Things that are very practical or sportsy. We have someone that could have a very youthful face but their eyes would betray the maturity of their personality or the hell they’ve been through. I picture someone who’s height is average, with an average body type. Their gaze looks lost, like their body is here but their mind is somewhere else. They may wear glasses. With the Hierophant I get the image of someone strictly following society’s norms that were set for their gender but combined with the Fool I get the feeling of someone that would want to break free from those. This is a very contradicting energy. So maybe this person tries to walk on the line of what is acceptable to society and what is acceptable to them. So maybe they mix traditional clothing with modern clothing or they try to wear clothes that would fit all genders. I don’t see this person wearing jewellery or make up.
Interests | Queen of cups & 7 of wands
This person just wants peace. They like to share and spend time with the people they love without any trouble. They want to protect what they believe in, their inner peace and inner circle. I feel like this person could have been bullied in the past or faced a lot of struggles. Their job could involve healing, therapy, helping people find their true self. This person feels very unique in their personality and being. And I can't help but to wonder whether they are a part of the LGBTQIA+ community. If that's the case, I feel like this person hasn't made their coming out. That is very specific so that may not be the case for everyone. To some extent, this person likes to be challenged if it can broaden their mind. But in that case, they need it to be healing and fair. They won't accept change if it is forced onto them. This person could be a teacher or some sort of guide. I can't pick up on more information. So I drew an extra card and got the World. This person enjoys traveling, learning about other cultures, broadening their mind and horizons. They like learning new languages or just, in general, doing things that are out of the ordinary. So if this person never goes to the theater for instance, just doint that can be thrilling for them. Anything that gets them to leave their home and be in unknown territory interests them.
Additional information | The Emperor & 6 of cups
This is someone that is extremely powerful and influential but they have no idea of that power. They're a natural born leader and they could be amazing if they fully trusted themselves and embraced their true self. This person could be a childhood friend of yours or at least someone from your past. They could be one of your soulmates. This person could be heavily influenced by a father figure. They are highly spiritual and in touch with their ancestors. They are also intuitive. You could feel connected to them through your dreams. This person is also heavily influenced by their past. A part of them still hasn't healed from it. For this person specifically, the artist that could embody their energy would be Han from SKZ or Hwiyoung from SF9.
#just-a-ghost#tarot reading#pick a card#pac reading#tarot investigation#divine counterpart pac#Spotify
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it isn’t over, it’s just begun
Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember (prompts: backseat | clothes on | soft and slow | bruise) and @softsteddieseptember (prompt: Road Trip). This is super late, I'm sorry.
The biggest thank you to @firefly-party for reading over this and helping me make sense of English grammar and tenses. UGH.
6k | rated: e | warnings: (consensual) blood drinking | tags: vampire!eddie, monsterfucker!steve, dry humping, Steve takes care of Eddie
Read on AO3
“I’m dead, Harrington, not deaf! Haven’t I been through enough? Do you have to torture me with… with this? Crappy music from an even crappier movie? And here I thought we were friends!”
Eddie’s voice grew louder as he ranted, his hands flapping dramatically, his wide brown eyes sparkling under the streetlamps they passed. For someone technically dead, he was so alive—full of energy and life in every way that mattered. Even with his too-sharp teeth, translucent skin, and the absence of a pulse, he was still, well, Eddie.
Not that Eddie agreed.
That’s why they were here now, on this strange road trip to Washington D.C. to meet some friend of Owens who supposedly had a solution for him. How, Steve wasn’t sure. And if he was being honest, he didn’t entirely trust this friend—or Owens, for that matter. They’d been screwed over too many times, and Steve wasn’t about to risk Eddie’s… non-life.
Eddie seemed on edge too, fidgeting and talking too fast, too loud, confined in the tight space of Steve’s trusty BMW.
“If the movie’s so crappy, how do you know Take My Breath Away is in it, huh?” Steve countered, smirking, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
As expected, the question left Eddie sputtering, before he huffed and crossed his arms, pouting.
Steve took pity and turned the volume down, but not before belting out the chorus at the top of his lungs. He couldn’t help but enjoy the way Eddie looked at him, his attention fixed solely on Steve. If he were being honest, that’s all he’d been craving lately—Eddie’s gaze, his words, his touch.
Steve was down bad.
They’d been driving for six hours, and Steve could feel the toll it was taking on him. He still wasn’t sleeping well—nightmares keeping him awake more often than not. The only thing that brought him any real comfort was when Eddie came back from his nightly hunts. It should’ve felt strange that the only time Steve truly felt safe from the horrors of the Upside Down was when the one "monster" they hadn’t killed or sent back to the alternate dimension was taking a shower in his en suite bathroom before crawling into bed with him.
Not that Steve thought of Eddie as a monster—just because he looked a little different and needed blood to survive didn’t make him one.
The only one who saw Eddie that way was Eddie himself. It had taken weeks to convince him to let them anywhere near him, constantly reassuring him that they knew he wouldn’t hurt them, that they loved him.
Eddie had only agreed to stop hiding in the woods if Steve was there, nail bat in hand, ready to strike at the first sign of danger.
That’s why Eddie was living with him now. And that’s why Steve was the one driving him to Washington to meet this friend of Owens.
“You don’t look so hot, Stevie.”
“Geez, tell me how you really feel, Munson,” Steve shot back, only slightly annoyed. Eddie sounded more worried than anything.
Eddie raised his hands in mock surrender, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Relax, you always look hot, big boy. But right now? You look beat. Wanna take a break?”
A break didn’t sound bad at all, Steve thought. Just to rest his eyes for a bit.
“Not your worst idea,” he conceded, much to Eddie’s delight.
Eddie’s voice turned theatrical as he declared, “I only have good ideas, I’ll have you know.”
Steve’s reply came without thinking. “Sacrificing yourself to the bats wasn’t.” The weight of his words hit him the moment the silence in the car became deafening—not even the sound of Eddie’s breathing, which was more habit than necessity, broke the tension.
Shit.
“Eddie, I’m sorry—”
“It’s fine,” Eddie cut him off, his voice flat, the humor gone. “There’s a path over there, leading off the road. Take it. We can park at the edge of the woods. You can rest, and I’ll... hunt.”
Eddie’s whole demeanor screamed for him to drop it. As much as Steve hated the tense silence hanging between them, he didn’t know what to say to make it better. He was sorry for how his words had come out, but the truth was, he’d meant them. Part of him knew it wasn’t fair—he hated what Eddie had done, but he also knew that, in Eddie’s place, he would’ve done the exact same thing. Saving Dustin, buying them time. Sacrificing himself because what was his life compared to theirs, compared to the world?
If Steve was being honest with himself, he’d admit that it wasn’t Eddie he was truly angry at—it was himself. He should have been there. He should’ve been smarter, faster. Better. But he wasn’t. He let them fend for themselves, and this was the result.
The car swayed as it rumbled down the gravel path, pulling him back from his spiraling thoughts. What happened, happened. There was no changing it now. The only thing they could do was deal with the aftermath.
Steve parked the car in a secluded spot, hidden from the road to give them some privacy. The second the car stopped, Eddie swung the door open and disappeared into the woods without a word. Steve sat there, staring after him, regret settling like a weight in his chest.
With a heavy sigh, Steve pushed open his door and went around to grab his nail bat and a blanket from the trunk. He crawled into the backseat, balling up his jacket as a makeshift pillow. The bat went under the driver’s seat, just in case, and he pulled the blanket over himself. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, and with the weight of guilt in his stomach and his mind racing, he doubted he’d be able to fall asleep.
But sleep had other plans. It claimed him within seconds, and as usual, Eddie was the last thing on his mind before darkness wrapped around him like a lover.
He came back to himself slowly, like wading through thick molasses, his senses gradually returning one by one. First, there was the awareness inside his body. He was thirsty. Hungry, too. A dull headache throbbed at his temples, and his neck ached from the awkward position he’d slept in. Everything pointed to him having slept far longer than he’d intended.
Next came his hearing—dulled ever since Billy Hargrove had taken a plate to his head, but still somewhat functional. He could make out the distant hoot of an owl and, if he concentrated, the faint sound of cars speeding by on the nearby road. Then there was something else—a rustling sound, faint and close by. He had to strain to hear it, and might’ve missed it if not for how near it was.
Steve kept his eyes closed, everything feeling too heavy and far away. But now, cautiously, he cracked them open just enough to survey his surroundings without alerting any potential threats.
The car was dark; the sun had set a while ago, from the looks of it. At first glance, it seemed like he was alone, and worry crept in about Eddie. But then the rustling sound came again, and this time his eyes landed on its source. Someone was sitting in the passenger seat, trembling violently.
“Eds?” Steve’s voice came out scratchy from sleep. He swallowed and tried again, softer this time. “Are you alright?”
The figure in the front seat—who Steve hoped was Eddie, though who else could it be—shook its head but remained silent. As Steve blinked the sleep from his eyes and they adjusted to the darkness, more details came into focus. Eddie was hunched over, knees pulled tightly to his chest, his feet up on the upholstery. Normally, Steve would’ve complained, but right now all that mattered was making sure Eddie was okay.
“Eddie, please, talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
He sat up and reached out to touch Eddie’s arm, but the moment his fingers grazed the fabric of Eddie’s jacket, Eddie recoiled, scrambling as far as the small space of the car would allow.
“Don’t,” Eddie rasped, his voice raw and jagged, almost unrecognizable.
Ignoring the warning, Steve inched closer, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “Eddie,” he repeated softly, using the name again because he remembered the first time they encountered this version of Eddie—feral, lost, barely recognizing them. Nancy had said to repeat his name often, to remind him of who he was. It became a habit Steve hadn’t been able to shake entirely.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me. Did something happen while you were hunting?” Steve’s stomach twisted at the thought. What if Eddie had hurt someone? Lost control to the instincts he barely understood? He should’ve been worried about whoever Eddie might’ve harmed—and he was, he was—but more than anything, he worried about what that guilt would do to Eddie. That it would push him to retreat, make him decide that he couldn’t be around people anymore. That he’d leave them.
Leave Steve.
At Steve’s question, Eddie finally looked up, and their eyes met. Steve’s heart lurched. Eddie's eyes were no longer the warm, familiar brown. They were red.
A whimper escaped Steve’s lips before he could stop it, and Eddie’s face—what little Steve could make out—twisted in what looked like pain. Steve realized, too late, that his involuntary reaction had struck at Eddie’s worst fear: that they saw him as the monster he believed himself to be.
“’M sorry, Eds,” Steve stammered, rushing to correct himself. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I’m not scared of you, I swear. I’m just worried for you. Let me help, please.”
With his back pressed against the glove compartment, cowering in the cramped footwell of the passenger seat, Eddie let out a dark, humorless laugh. “You have no idea what you’re asking, Steve. You should just take that trusty bat of yours and bash my head in. That’s the only way you can help.” His voice cracked, raw with desperation. “I… I don’t want to be a monster.”
“I’m not doing that, Eddie.” Steve’s voice was steady, even as his heart hammered in his chest. “You’re not a monster. You’re our friend.”
Eddie let out a bitter sigh, his hand fumbling for the car's overhead light. When it flicked on, Steve’s breath caught in his throat. Eddie looked more monstrous than ever—the sharpness of his teeth more pronounced, his skin drawn tight and pale, dark veins spidering beneath the surface. His red eyes glowed unnaturally in the dim light, and his trembling grew worse.
“I haven’t eaten in days,” Eddie confessed, his voice low and filled with shame. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to kill any of the animals out there. And tonight, when I finally got desperate enough to try… there were hunters in the woods.” He clenched his jaw, as if disgusted with himself. “I couldn’t risk it, Steve. I had to retreat before I hurt them. Before I would have... lost control.”
Steve’s heart twisted at the sight of Eddie—so vulnerable, yet fighting desperately to stay in control. It hurt to see the raw fear in his friend’s eyes, especially when there seemed to be nothing that Steve could do to make it better. There had to be something. Anything.
Eddie’s refusal to feed explained why the monstrous side of him was becoming more pronounced, more visible. The hunger must be unbearable by now, gnawing at him from the inside out. Yet, Eddie—the stubborn idiot—was willing to suffer rather than hurt another living thing. How anyone could see a monster in someone so kind, so selfless, was beyond Steve. He knew without a doubt that Eddie would starve himself to death before ever harming anyone.
But maybe it didn’t have to come to that. Not if Steve had anything to say about it.
“Maybe…” Steve began, choosing his words carefully, “you don’t have to control it.” At Eddie’s incredulous look, he quickly added, “I mean, what if you let yourself have blood—from someone willing to give it to you? You wouldn’t have to hurt anyone if it was, you know, consensual.”
Eddie blinked, his wide, reddish-brown eyes staring at Steve in disbelief.
“Could you repeat that? Because for a second there, it sounded like you were suggesting I should be drinking blood from a person.”
“It sounded that way because that’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” Steve said, keeping his tone calm. “Not just any person—someone who’d let you do it, of course.”
Eddie’s expression hardened as his voice rose, anger mixing with incredulity. “Are you out of your mind? You’re suggesting I just walk up to someone and be like, ‘Hey, can I get some consensual blood-sucking in? I can’t promise it won’t hurt, but you’d be doing me a real favor.’ Is that what you’re suggesting?”
The flare of anger in Eddie’s voice was almost a relief. It was familiar, a sign that somewhere under all that fear, the Eddie Steve knew was still there. Steve would take Eddie’s frustration over the emptiness he’d seen in him any day.
“Of course not,” Steve replied, his lips curling into a smile as Eddie’s shoulders sagged a little. “I’m suggesting you drink from me.”
You could’ve heard a pin drop in that moment, even with Steve’s less-than-perfect hearing. He was certain Eddie had even stopped breathing, not that he needed to. Eddie just stared at Steve like he’d suggested they strip naked, douse themselves in glitter, and run sparkling through the streets of Hawkins.
“Did you hear me? I. Want. You. To. Drink. From. Me,” Steve repeated, enunciating each word with deliberate conviction.
Eddie was already shaking his head before Steve had even finished speaking. “No! No, no, no. Absolutely not. You’re insane. I—Steve, please, no.”
It was like Eddie was going through the stages of grief—anger, denial, and bargaining. Robin had explained those to him once, and now Steve was watching them unfold before his eyes.
He knew he couldn’t force Eddie to do it, no matter how desperately he wanted to. The truth gnawed at him: a part of Steve didn’t just want Eddie to feel better; he wanted to be the one who made Eddie feel better. And wasn’t that a messed-up thing to feel?
“Please, man. You’re dying. I can see it, and you can’t go on like this much longer.”
The look of utter defeat was painful enough, but it was the resignation in Eddie’s eyes that twisted the knife deeper into Steve’s heart.
“I’m already dead, Steve,” Eddie said quietly. “I died that night, and I shouldn’t have come back. Not like this. I don’t want to live as a monster. If I don’t feed, maybe I can at least die as a human.”
His words were calm, as though Eddie had made peace with his fate, but the sadness lurking behind them hit Steve like a truck.
It made him furious.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re seriously gonna sit there, look me in the eye, and tell me it’d be better if you were dead?” Steve’s voice shook with raw emotion. “Newsflash, asshole—if you die, it would destroy the kids. Dustin worships your scrawny ass. Mike tries to grow his hair like yours. Max would play D&D just to have you DM the game. And it’s not just them. Nancy. Robin. Me. Did you ever think about that? We need you, Eddie. So don’t you dare say it’d be better if you died, because it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t!”
His chest heaved with the effort of getting the words out, his anger mingling with desperation. But as the weight of his outburst settled, Steve felt something shift—like a festering wound finally being drained. It left him raw, but somehow… cleaner.
For a second, he thought it had worked. Eddie moved toward him slowly, his hand outstretched. Steve noticed the darkened tips of Eddie’s fingers, the sharpness of his nails, more menacing than they’d been just hours ago. But Steve didn’t flinch. He stayed exactly where he was, letting Eddie come closer.
Eddie didn’t bite him. Instead, his fingertips grazed Steve’s cheek, soft as a summer breeze. “You’re crying?” Eddie’s voice was a disbelieving whisper, like he couldn’t fathom that the thought of losing him could bring Steve to tears.
“I don’t wanna lose you,” Steve whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. He didn’t care if Eddie could see everything he was feeling now—all the love and fear, laid bare for him to witness. If it meant Eddie would accept his help, if it meant Eddie would stay, then Steve would give him everything.
“You really mean it.” The wonder in Eddie’s voice made Steve smile, because it was so unmistakably Eddie.
“For someone so smart, you can be incredibly thick. Yes, I mean it. Now would you please get over yourself and bite me already? Jeez.”
Eddie’s startled laugh told Steve he’d said the right thing. “You do know I repeated senior year three times, right?”
“Yeah, and we both know that had nothing to do with you being dumb, dumbass.”
They both grinned at each other, the kind of goofy smiles that made Steve’s chest feel light. In that moment, all Steve wanted was to lean in and kiss Eddie—just close the gap and see what it felt like to finally do it.
But before he could act on that impulse, Eddie’s face suddenly twisted in pain.
“Eddie? Are you okay? What’s happening?” Steve’s voice rose with the anxiety building in his chest.
Through clenched teeth, Eddie managed, “I’m so hungry and you—” He stopped, squeezing his eyes shut.
“You what? Come on, man, I thought we were having a moment here. Talk to me!”
Eddie groaned, clearly struggling, and finally blurted out, “You smell so fucking good, okay? Happy now? You smell good enough to eat and it hurts.”
The weight of Eddie’s words hung in the small space between them, thick with tension. Steve had been through enough—beaten, tortured, fighting interdimensional monsters while babysitting a pack of troublemakers. He’d earned something good in his life, damn it. And if that “something good” was Eddie Munson biting him and drinking his blood to stay alive, then so be it. Steve Harrington would take it.
"Almost," Steve growled, his patience finally snapping. He framed Eddie’s face with his hands, pulling him forward into a kiss that had been months in the making. And Eddie went willingly—no, eagerly—letting Steve lick into his mouth with a muffled, desperate moan.
Without breaking the kiss, Steve leaned back, pulling Eddie with him into the back seat. Eddie followed without hesitation, lips still fused to Steve’s as if they couldn’t bear to part. Maybe it was Eddie’s newfound abilities, or maybe the kiss had awakened some hidden grace, but somehow, Eddie managed to climb into the back with him without so much as a stumble.
The heat between them was electric like a thunderstorm, a shiver of pure need running through Steve’s body.
As they sank onto the cool leather, Eddie’s weight pressed down on him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, something settled in Steve’s chest too—a deep sense of peace. He had craved this closeness for so long, the feeling of Eddie with him, on him.
“Eddie,” Steve moaned, finally pulling back to gasp for air. The moment their lips parted, though, he felt Eddie tense above him, realization dawning in his eyes. The danger of being so close to Steve, so close to his pulse, his heart pounding from desire, the blood rushing beneath his skin—it obviously hit Eddie like a freight train.
Steve knew if he didn’t act fast, Eddie would pull away, put distance between them when all Steve wanted was to be even closer. So he took the leap, pushing Eddie’s face toward his neck just as he wedged his thigh between Eddie’s legs.
“Please, baby,” Steve breathed, voice low and thick with want. “I need you to bite me. I want it. I want you.”
He didn’t care that he was begging—he only cared that Eddie wouldn’t leave him.
“Steve—” Eddie’s voice was strained, pained, and Steve felt the sharp graze of a fang against the sensitive skin of his neck.
Steve didn’t give him time to second-guess. He pressed his thigh upward, right against the growing bulge in Eddie’s jeans, and the movement knocked Eddie off balance. He fell forward, right into Steve’s arms, and Steve held him tight, refusing to let him pull away.
“I know you want to, so do it,” Steve urged, breath coming in shallow bursts. When Eddie still hesitated, Steve rocked his hips up and clawed at Eddie’s back, desperation leaking into his voice. “Do it!”
And then, finally—Eddie gave in. With a groan that was half-pain, half-relief, he sank his teeth into Steve’s neck.
It hurt.
But the pain wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst was the sucking—the sensation of blood being drawn from his veins. It felt foreign, unnatural, mixing with the burning throb of the open wound on his neck. The combination made his head spin, disorienting him in a way he hadn’t anticipated.
Yet somehow, despite—or maybe because of—the intensity of those sensations, Steve was painfully hard. His cock strained against his Levi’s, which already felt tight on a normal day. Now, they were almost unbearable, constricting, and he half-wondered if they’d cut off circulation to his legs soon.
It was confusing, how his body reacted to Eddie feeding on him, but what really sent shivers down his spine were the sounds Eddie was making. Quiet, needy moans muffled by Steve’s neck, soft hums of pleasure that Eddie probably wasn’t even aware of. And it wasn’t just that—Steve could feel Eddie mindlessly rutting against his thigh, the thick, hard length of him pressing into Steve like a promise.
Steve had never been this close to another guy’s hard-on before. The closest he’d come was watching Tommy H. jerk off beside him in his bedroom during a sleepover, Tommy’s eyes dark with something that had made Steve’s skin prickle. But this? This was so much better. It wasn’t just real—it was Eddie. And Steve had been halfway in love with him ever since that day when Eddie talked about Dustin, about how much the kid worshiped him, and how maybe Steve wasn’t such a bad guy after all.
The cramped space of the car was filled with the sound of their ragged breaths and soft moans, but they weren’t just Eddie’s anymore. Steve’s own sounds were growing louder by the second, the initial sting of pain transforming into a heady mix of heat and need. Each pull on his neck sent a pulse of pleasure straight down to his groin, making his cock twitch against the too-tight denim.
He had never felt anything like this before—this blend of pain and pleasure, of intimacy and raw need. And all he could think was how right it felt. How right Eddie felt.
Steve felt like he was drifting in a dream, the world around him soft and hazy, time slipping through his fingers like sand. He couldn’t tell how long it had been since Eddie’s teeth first pierced his skin—seconds, minutes, hours? Maybe even days. It was impossible to say, lost as he was in the slow, heated grind of their bodies. The friction between them pushed him higher and higher, though he wasn’t sure if it was the pleasure or the blood loss that had his head spinning. A distant part of his mind registered alarm at how weightless he felt, how far away everything seemed.
But Steve felt so good. Safe, even, wrapped in the arms of one of the most dangerous creatures he’d ever encountered.
It was Eddie who finally pulled back with a wet, slurping sound, his mouth leaving Steve’s neck as he gasped for breath. “Steve? Shit, Steve, come on, man, look at me.” Eddie’s cool hand cupped Steve’s cheek, shaking him gently, his fingers trembling as he turned Steve’s face to meet his gaze. When their eyes finally locked, Steve was relieved to see that the red had vanished entirely from Eddie’s eyes, replaced by the familiar warm brown that he had come to love.
“’ddie?” Steve slurred, his voice sounding weak, even to his own ears. He caught the worried look on Eddie’s face, the way his brows knit together and his lips pressed into a tight line, stained with drops of blood. My blood, Steve thought vaguely. Somehow, the idea didn’t bother him. Summoning the last bit of strength he had, Steve smiled and placed his hand over Eddie’s, still resting on his cheek. “’m fine. Promise.”
“You don’t look fine, Steve,” Eddie shot back, panic edging his voice. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Goddammit, why didn’t you stop me? Shit, I could’ve killed you.”
Eddie’s voice cracked with guilt, his words thick with fear and desperation. He sounded wrecked, not in the way the still-persistent throbbing in Steve’s groin suggested they both should be, but wrecked with the weight of what had just happened. But Steve didn’t care about that. He didn’t care that he was dizzy, or that his body felt light as a feather. What mattered was making Eddie understand that Steve wanted this. He wanted everything Eddie could give him—his hunger, his desire, his love. And in return, he wanted Eddie to take everything from him — his blood, his heart, hell, even his life. It was all Eddie’s for the taking.
A gasp slipped from Eddie’s lips, sharp and incredulous. “Eddie…” Steve’s voice was barely a whisper, his gaze soft and unwavering as he stared into Eddie’s wide, unblinking eyes.
“You don’t mean that,” Eddie whispered, his voice thick with disbelief.
Steve blinked, suddenly realizing he must have said it all out loud. Oops.
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, right? So far, Steve’s gut instincts had always guided him right, more or less. He was still alive, wasn’t he? That was good enough in his book even if the Robin in his head was rolling her eyes at him.
“I mean it,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “I know you don’t believe me, but I do. I want you. All of you—the good, the bad, the ugly.” Steve’s lips curled into a smirk, mischief lighting his eyes. “And if you haven’t noticed…” He rolled his hips deliberately, making sure Eddie could feel just how much he wanted him. “I was really enjoying myself.” To drive his point home, he shifted his thigh, pressing it against the unmistakable evidence of Eddie’s arousal. Above him, Eddie’s face contorted in pleasure, a low moan rumbling from deep in his chest.
Gotcha, Steve thought with a smug little grin.
“And I think you liked it, too,” Steve continued, his voice dipping lower. “So why don’t you stop worrying and get us both off, huh? I’m not sure I can right now, so it’s the least you could do to make it up to me, don’t you think?”
It was a bold move, pretending to be nonchalant when, in reality, Steve felt like he was hanging on the edge of a cliff, waiting to see if Eddie would catch him or let him fall. His heart pounded in his chest, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as he watched Eddie’s face—those deep, whiskey-brown eyes wide with surprise, disbelief, and something else that made Steve’s pulse race even faster.
Then, something happened that Steve did not see coming at all.
Eddie laughed.
Not just a chuckle, either, but a real, belly-deep laugh that shook his entire body. The anxiety that had been etched into his features for so long, the haunted look he’d worn since coming back from the dead, finally melted away. In its place, there was warmth, the corners of his eyes crinkling as laughter spilled from his lips, dimples flashing in a way that made Steve’s heart clench.
Eddie was so beautiful.
Eddie’s laughter faded, the echo of it lingering in the close confines of the car like the remnants of a shared secret. His gaze softened, the humor in his eyes shifting into something far more tender, far more vulnerable. “You’re unbelievable, Harrington,” he said, shaking his head, but this time his voice was filled with awe rather than disbelief. “Here you are, barely hanging on, and somehow you’re still making me feel flustered. What kind of guy are you?”
His fingers, cool but delicate, ghosted over Steve’s cheek, the sharpness of his nails a reminder of the monster Eddie thought he was. But the touch? That was all Eddie—the boy Steve had been falling for piece by piece. “You really want me to believe you’re okay with this? With me? After what I just did to you?”
Eddie’s voice wavered, his uncertainty spilling out despite the bravado. “You’re either the bravest or the dumbest guy I’ve ever met. Maybe both.”
Steve couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, one that matched Eddie’s in its softness, despite the tension hanging between them. “I don’t hear you telling me I’m wrong, man. We’ve been talking about me—what I want. But what about you?” He paused, his voice gentle but probing. “What do you want, Eddie?”
Eddie’s reply came without hesitation. “You.”
Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest while the butterflies in his stomach went wild. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Then have me.”
Blessedly, this time, Eddie didn’t argue. He didn’t hesitate or question whether he deserved this—deserved Steve. He just did what Steve asked.
Pushing himself up on one arm, Eddie moved his other hand from Steve’s cheek, letting it trail down to palm him through his jeans. The earlier intensity had faded slightly during their conversation, but the moment Eddie’s hand found him, it was like lighting a match to gasoline. Heat surged through Steve, reigniting everything Eddie had stirred up.
Eddie's grin widened, his sharp teeth gleaming as he looked down at Steve, the dangerous undertone of it a sharp contrast to the mischievous, boyish excitement that always pushed Steve to keep up with his contagious energy. “I knew you’d be packing, big boy,” Eddie teased, his voice full of admiration and humor. “And all this for lil’ old me?” His fingers squeezed experimentally before running along the length of him, feeling the way Steve’s body responded, hardening further under his touch.
Steve, still a little lightheaded from the blood loss—made worse now that more of his blood seemed to be rushing south—blinked up at Eddie, his thoughts scrambled. All he could do was press his hips up, seeking more friction, his body moving on instinct even if his brain was lagging behind.
His hips began to grind against Eddie’s hand, slowly at first, trying to find a rhythm as Eddie held back, teasing, not giving him the relief he craved. Words failed him, but his body knew exactly what it wanted, each roll of his hips desperate and pleading.
“Didn’t anyone ever—fuck—tell you not to play with your food?” Steve groaned, hips stuttering as Eddie’s touch continued its slow, maddening exploration. It was risky bringing up the fact Eddie had just fed from him, but the elephant in the room wasn’t going anywhere, so why not address it now, while they were both caught up in the heat of the moment?
Eddie paused for just a moment, his eyes searching Steve’s with an unreadable expression. Then, he laughed softly, the sound low and rough, sending a shiver through Steve's entire body. "Oh, sweetheart," Eddie murmured, leaning closer, his lips brushing against Steve’s ear. "You have no idea how much I want to devour you."
Before Steve could even process Eddie’s words, Eddie shifted, settling between his thighs. The new position aligned their hard cocks perfectly, and they both gasped at the intense sensation. Eddie leaned down, nosing along Steve’s jaw until his breath ghosted over Steve’s ear. “Thank you, Stevie,” he whispered.
Eddie's hips rolled slowly, expressing his gratitude with each movement, though Steve wasn’t sure what Eddie was thanking him for. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the electric friction between them, the delicious drag of flesh against flesh. The weight of Eddie’s body should have made Steve feel trapped, but instead, it just amplified his need, igniting something primal within him. He was prey—and he loved it.
That thought made him cling even tighter, his legs wrapping around Eddie's waist to increase the friction. Eddie’s pace quickened, hips thrusting with more purpose, slow but insistent, like they were making love for real. Like Eddie was buried deep inside him. And suddenly, that’s all Steve wanted—Eddie inside him, closer, always closer. His teeth in Steve’s neck, his cock in his body. He needed to feel everything.
Steve’s fingers dug into Eddie’s back, nails scratching against the thin fabric of his shirt in a desperate attempt to mark him, to claim him the way Eddie had claimed Steve with his bite. Eddie didn’t complain—if anything, the scratches seemed to spur him on. His breath hitched, and he let out a string of grunts and moans, the sounds vibrating against Steve’s skin as Eddie whispered praises into his ear. He called Steve brave, kind, selfless, and so, so pretty.
Steve had experienced some incredible sex in his life, but nothing compared to this—dry-humping Eddie Munson in the backseat of his car, bodies pressed together, breathless, and needy.
A familiar tightness coiled in his groin, his whole body tensing as he teetered on the edge of release. But something was missing.
“Bite me,” Steve begged, his voice high and needy, almost desperate.
Eddie whimpered, his hips stuttering for just a moment. “Steve—”
Not willing to let Eddie pull away, Steve’s hand gripped his ass, urging him to keep moving, while his other hand pressed against Eddie’s neck, guiding him closer to his own neck. “I’m close, baby, so close. Please.”
As Eddie's teeth sank into his flesh once more, Steve's vision blurred, the rush of pleasure and pain so overwhelming it felt like his soul had left his body for a moment. He must’ve floated away for a bit, because when he came back to himself, he was no longer beneath Eddie but lying on top of him, his head resting on Eddie’s chest, while Eddie’s fingers gently combed through his hair in a soothing rhythm.
Steve must’ve made a sound, or maybe Eddie was attuned to the change in his breathing, because Eddie noticed right away.
“Hey, sweetheart, back with me?” Eddie’s voice was soft, warm, filled with affection.
“Mmm,” Steve hummed, feeling content and utterly spent. His limbs felt like they weighed a ton, his body heavy but blissfully sated. “Don’t wanna move.”
“Never?” Eddie chuckled, his laughter light and fond, and Steve could feel himself falling even deeper into this perfect moment, cocooned in the warmth of post-orgasmic bliss.
He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his stomach growled loudly, breaking the quiet. Eddie snorted. “I think we have to move, darling. That sounded like a demogorgon.”
Steve groaned in protest, causing Eddie to give in with a soft smile. “Okay, fine. A few more minutes, but then we’ll get you something to eat and drink.” His hand drifted to Steve’s neck, thumb gently brushing over the already healing bite. “This took a lot out of you. Let me take care of you, okay? Like you did for me.”
Steve snuggled closer, the idea of being cared for by Eddie sounding better than anything. “Okay,” he mumbled.
Eddie pressed a lingering kiss to the top of his head, his voice barely a whisper. “Thank you, Stevie.”
#steddie#steddie smut#steddie fanfic#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddiesmuttyseptember#softsteddieseptember#vampire eddie munson#my writing
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part 9 of 19 of kinktober: brain riding
kenjaku’s brain x reader
plot: kenjaku would like to try something a bit different with you — themes: oral sex, brain riding, gender neutral pronouns for kenjaku, f!reader, coercion, potentially body horror — a/n: if the idea weirds you out, this is your warning to click out, otherwise read on <3 — w.c: 800ish
kinktober masterlist • main masterlist • ao3
“Come on, I promise it’ll be fun,” Kenjaku teased, dragging your fingertips along their still freshly sutured incision, “it’ll be unlike anything like you’ve ever experienced before.”
You stammered in slight uncertainty, narrowing your eyes into a concerned stare; studying the liquid that trickled out of their partially undone form. “I-I don’t know, this might be too weird… even for me.”
Kenjaku could only smile as they pulled you back down over their body, urging you to straddle over their frame. They didn’t want to pretend with you anymore—at least not since you last saw their technique and surviving form—so this was simply… the next big step forward.
“Trust me,” they coaxed, lowering their voice into a breathy whisper, “I promise it’ll be fun. If you’re that scared, you can sit a little lower over my vessel’s face and we can work our way up.”
You could only blink as your mind paled at the thought, still struggling to imagine just how this could possibly go. Admittedly, this was something that you had never once anticipated before and yet here you were, giving into the impossible.
“Alright, just… just give me a moment, okay?” you replied in a strained tone in an attempt to calm yourself down.
They simply stared up at you as you straddled over their stomach, their arrogant grin slowly widening with each passing second.
“Do I just… hover over the brain, or?” you asked in a resigned tone.
They tilted their head back in anticipation. “I’ll tell you when, how’s that?”
A whole flurry of troubling thoughts swept through your mind the more you tried to talk yourself into carrying the act through. For one, you felt suddenly… insecure? What could the view for them even be from that sort of angle? Given that your thought process could be easily reflected on your expression, they pulled you down ever so slightly by tugging at your wrists to at least, reassure you.
“Don’t worry about it too much,” they murmured, trying to pad you forward on your knees, “I can promise you that my eyes will be closed if that’s what’s bothering you,” they lied, wanting nothing more than to revel in the view.
You tilted your head in half disbelief, not quite believing them. “R-really?”
They hummed with a confirming nod, finally getting you to hover right where they wanted. With a quick pull, they cast aside the skull cap for now, propping it over to the bedside table before shooting their tongue up towards your clit, hoping to steal a taste while you were still adjusting.
A slight yelp escaped your lips as the rest of your body tingled in a pleasurable shudder; your legs settled parallel over the soft, fleshy mass felt almost softly foreign when compared to any other area of flesh. The tissue was alarmingly supple and left you feeling a little afraid for them.
“A-and you’re sure that this doesn’t hurt you?” you asked in a somewhat innocent tone, genuinely concerned for their safety.
They lightheartedly laughed in response to you, their tone of voice adopting a nonchalant edge, “Well, it might mess up my vision a little but don’t worry, I can fix all of that later. Besides, my brain is firmer than the average person’s, so you’re not damaging a single thing.”
Kenjaku technically meant that first part in a joking manner, but they partially regretted their jab a second later, knowing that you wouldn’t take it in the way they hoped and would very likely hesitate to let yourself go fully.
To counter this, they attempted to pull you down a little closer; their brain tongue greedily lapping up wherever it could feel, the rest of the rosy matter slightly pulsating as it did so as the subtle movements almost caused them to tremble.
Continuing, they licked at your folds whenever you slipped up and tried to steady yourself. Your clit was the primary focus, but your lacking confidence was something that they’d have to train you out of in the future; which was already pre-planned in their mind. Working with what they could, they flicked at your skin’s swollen peak, pushing you towards a quickly building climax. Perhaps it was both the fear and the arousal and the unknown; all three things combined to overwhelm you into a heated mess.
In a way, it was surely frustrating due to the host’s body responding with want and need, pooling tingling pleasure in between their legs. They couldn’t stop now however—not when you were so close—so instead their tongue zigzagged at an almost hurried rate, sending rising shocks of shuddering bliss through your body, forcing you to eventually coil and flood in a seeping release that trickled into their cerebral lips.
As you finally stilled your grinding process, you sat back over their chest and then rolled over to your back, your body involuntarily flinching slightly at the cap they used to secure back over their brain.
“I’m never letting you live this down by the way,” they teased, already planning the next moment they’d do this with you again (and again and again.)
And to your surprise (not that you’d admit it to them), you didn’t feel completely opposed to the idea.
~~~
related art piece
#kinktober#kinktober 2024#kenjaku#kenjaku x reader#tw body horror#jujutsu kenjaku#kenjaku drabble#jujutsu kaisen kenjaku#kenjaku x you#kenjaku jjk#jjk kenjaku#kenjaku x y/n#kenjaku smut#kenjaku fanfic#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk kinktober#x reader smut#x you smut#smut#jjk drabble#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x fem!reader#pseudo geto#smut drabble#smut fanfiction#jjk smut
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This ended up longer than I intended.
Here's a long rant about Zero Day, denial, and finding comfort in your sickness.
.
One of the things that's stuck with us since our first time watching Zero Day is when Cal says something about not being able to cure someone who has nothing wrong with them.
Some people get so deep into their illness that they start to tell themselves, "There is nothing wrong with me." It's self-soothing, in a way. You have nothing to fix if there's nothing wrong, right? And you get sucked further and further into it until it's all you know, so it becomes normal. There's truly nothing wrong with you, because it's your norm, and how could that be wrong?
And then you get worse and worse until something happens. It could be something bad, such as Cal and Andre's case. Something people would usually never consider. But when you're sick, you're sick, and things don't make sense, and it doesn't matter what people would or wouldn't consider. Because you would, and you're normal. There's nothing wrong with you.
That, or you get help. And Andre briefly mentions something, I think it may be before what Cal says? I'm not sure, correct me if I'm wrong. But he mentions something, says that even if they did get caught and got put in counseling or something, they'd get out, and they'd still do it.
And that leads you to wonder, is that true? Is that truly what would happen? Or are they feeling so untouchable and so powerful that they think NOTHING can stop them. Not even professional help.
And we'll never know. That's what I enjoy about Zero Day, there's so much we never know. We just have to trust these two boys who will present you with their truth, not the truth.
We see very little of Cal's family, and what we do see isn't bad. What we see of Andre's is.. conflicting. His family means well, but he's an 18 year old boy who likes guns and doesn't seem to get enough appreciation from his father. It writes itself, really.
We see none of Andre interacting with his peers, we only see Cal during the prom scenes. And the prom scenes are loud and irritating and awkward. He doesn't really try to be social, he takes the next possible chance to go to the only person he really bothers socializing with; Andre.
They're both very sick. Whether it's the same thing, something similar, or something entirely different, who's to say, but they find comfort in each other. They're both rotting away, and it's okay, because it's together. Whether or not it's based in love (platonic or romantic) or a hatred for the world so deep that your vision is blurred by your tears of rage, who knows. You never get to know.
Because the last thing those boys would want is to be vulnerable. Because that means something is wrong. But nothing can be wrong, because you're normal. There's nothing wrong with you.
I hope this makes sense and isn't incoherent.
#💻²🔊#⌨️²📨#zero day#zero day 2003#zeroday#cal gabriel#calvin gabriel#andre kriegman#andre kreigman#cal robertson#calvin robertson#andre keuck#caldre#tcc tumblr#tccblr#teeceecee
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Hello, I have read your Jaime Lannister x servant reader story. Would you be able to write a second part to it, please? I would like it to have a happy ending and for Cersei to be reprimanded by Tywin. Thank you for your time.
The reader is quite upset with Jaime for being silent, and so are their children. Please and thank you
AN: Hi, I hope you like it x
“Please - my love.” Jaime whispered; the candlelight flickering as the knight stepped closer. His soft locks framing his face whilst locking eyes with you, finally finding such bravery to look you in the eye, you thought to yourself. Still, you ignored him like you had been doing for the past two days after the situation with the Crown Prince. Your three children followed your example; an act you knew broke Jaime’s heart at every moment ignored by them. “I will fix this.” Jaime continued as he fought against reaching for you. He knew you would only leave his hold and the knight was unsure if he could stand such an action again. “How can you possibly do such a thing?”
The annoyance rising inside you only came out now as you not so gracefully removed yourself from the bed, putting physical distance between the two of you now. “I will, my love, please - believe me.” Jaime began to beg now; his hands reaching for you once more. His voice broke, the weight of his remorse and the fear of losing you evident in every word. You wish the trust would return but the damage had seemingly been done, you thought whilst ducking your head. Those ruby rings he had gifted to you with each child you birthed sparkled in the light as you nervously began to play with them. “I do not know if this can be fixed. Cersei will want her revenge.” You whispered out.
Jaime’s face paled at the mention of his sister. “I swear to you, I will protect you and our children. No matter the cost.” He whispered his promise desperately. You looked up at him, searching his eyes for the truth. You wanted to believe him, but the fear and hurt ran deep. “And how do you propose to do that? How can you stand against her?” Jaime took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I will do whatever it takes. If it means facing her fury, so be it.” He thought of his father; the old lion held love for his bastard grandchildren; it was his last string of hope. The knight stepped forward now and he thanked the Gods you reached for his hands before he rested his head on yours.
Jaime felt the warmth and softness that had always brought him comfort. The tension in the room seemed to ease slightly. For a moment, you allowed yourself to believe him, to find solace in his presence. The warmth of his kiss and the familiar scent of him stirred something within you—a flicker of the love and trust you once shared. “I’ll start by speaking to my father. He will help us. He has to.” You nodded, knowing that if there was anyone who could stand against Cersei and protect your family, it was Tywin Lannister.
~
“Cersei, listen to reason,” Jaime implored. “You have to not seek revenge. I have to protect my family—our family.” Cersei laughed bitterly. “Our family? You mean the bastards you’ve sired with that woman? They are a stain on our name.” The viciousness in her tone caused him to flinch even as he fought to hide it. “Enough, Cersei,” Tywin’s voice cut through the room, authoritative and commanding. “This bickering will solve nothing.” Cersei turned to their father, her anger simmering still but she allowed herself to listen to her father. “And what do you propose, Father? That I simply forgive and forget?”
Tywin stood, moving around the desk to face his children. “No. But we will find a way to ensure the safety and integrity of this family. Jaime has made mistakes, but his children are still Lannisters. We will protect them, and we will find a way to placate the Crown Prince without further tarnishing our name.” Cersei’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded slowly, recognizing the wisdom in her father’s words. “Very well. But know this, Jaime—any misstep, and I will not be so forgiving.”
“Do remember, daughter..who began to choose to have bastards.” Tywin allowed his words to hang in the room.
~ He slipped into bed beside you, feeling the warmth of your presence, a comfort he had sorely missed. The day’s events had brought him to near exhaustion; the mental battles with his sister were hard enough without the fear of her son’s reactions to it all. Too much power for a boy like that, Jaime thought to himself. As he settled next to you, he reached out, gently intertwined his fingers with yours. “Today was a step forward,” he whispered, his voice tinged with hope. “My father will help us. Cersei has agreed to a truce, for now.” Still, the fear filled you with ease. You knew such truce could not last forever, but it would help for the time being.
Gently, you reached into his golden locks. “Thank you.” You sweetly whispered whilst pressing a soft kiss to cheek. Jaime could not help but lean into the touch he had missed so very much. For the first time in days, the tension between you seemed to ease, and you allowed yourself to relax in his embrace. As you drifted off to sleep, the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear, you felt a glimmer of hope. The next morning, you were awakened by the sound of hurried footsteps and excited whispers. Before you could fully rouse yourself, the door burst open, and your three children came tumbling into the room. Their faces lit up with joy at the sight of both their parents in bed together. Your oldest boy had worried without pause since the event and you hated the idea of your love being filled with worry.
“Mother! Father!” The twins called out, climbing onto the bed and nestling between you. Jaime laughed, a genuine, hearty sound that filled the room with warmth. “Good morning, my little lions,” he greeted them, wrapping his arms around the two youngest while the eldest stayed at your side of the bed; as if reading your face. His coldness still existed with his father but was beginning to melt. “Are you staying with us today?” Your little girl asked, her eyes wide with hope. Jaime glanced at you, his heart swelling with love for his family. “Yes,” he said, his voice firm. “Today, I’m all yours.” With those words, you wrapped your arms around your oldest boy who melted in your embrace. The laughter of the youngest babes echoing in the chambers.
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