#this legit took me an hour to answer

[possiblyawesometmblr]

If you had to pick one song for each of your characters from their official playlist (if they have one, if not songs in general) to describe them, what songs would they be?

ooooooh oh this is a hard one. almost every song i throw onto a playlist is there for a reason but i'm gonna DO MY BEST here we go:

arisanna: home (beetlejuice cast recording) - i swear to god every day i am surprised i didn't write her specifically after this song. i like this one even better than dead mom for her overall because dead mom feels more angry, whereas this one feels like desperation and defeat that turns into acceptance. love the arc of this song and thinking about it in an ari context makes me want to cry so hard.

sylph: i love it (icona pop) - not ONLY does this one have sylph vibes in terms of lyrics, but it's funky 2010s dubstep pop. that's so them it hurts. sylph only listens to the most insane pop music of 2010-2014 i truly believe that in my heart

owen: waving through a window (dear evan hansen cast recording) - another win for the broadway bitches. perfect for him both in life and in death, honestly. i particularly love the "did I even make a sound? it's like I never made a sound, will I ever make a sound?" for him because of the idea that his life ended so fast he never got to do anything with it. also, similar to ari, this is a song with so much desperation in it.

rowan: pink pony club (chappell roan) - i actually can't get too much into this one without spoiling things, but know that this song is her to the core. rowan is in fact a chappell roan girly

mal: r.i.p. 2 my youth (the neighborhood) - so this guy doesn't have a playlist yet but something about this song really speaks to me for him. he's gone through some SHIT and i can't wait to get into it in future campaign sessions :D

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii |

summary: In a town divided between two rival street racing crews, you’re caught between your cousin’s crew, the Sinners and Jenna, a mysterious girl from the Vipers who’s more than just a pretty face. Both of you need something from each other, but as the stakes rise, you’re left wondering: what makes your heart race more— the thrill of the competition or the girl who’s impossible to ignore?

word count: 6.7k

A very special thank you to @ortegalvr for giving me the very much needed nudge to start moving my work to Tumblr. And to @cobaltperun for being so patient and thoroughly answering all my questions, essentially giving me (a Tumblr noob) a dummies guide to Tumblr. Appreciate you both!

————

Why is it that some of the best feel goods in life can just as easily kill you if you indulge in it too much?

Alcohol, drugs, illegal driving... love?

Fortunately for you, you only indulge in only one of those.

There's just something so satisfying about watching your car pick up speed; watching the little arm on the speed gauge reach it's full potential.  If cars are able to reach those speeds then they should, it's a fact of the matter.  And when you're surrounded by cars all your life and the only reason you have a livelihood is because of those three thousand pounds of steel, you're bound to make some fun out of it.

You push down on the accelerator with more pressure, reaching speeds of almost 180 km/hour when you see the flashing blue and red lights in the rear view mirror.

The feds.

"Took them longer than usual." you thought out loud.

Now there could be two reasons they're after you. The obvious, speeding.  But then there's also the fact that you stole the beauty you're driving from the town's richest neighbourhood, Summer Valley.

Of course stealing it is not enough for you, so you made some tweaks here and there in the garage so this ride could be even more illegal than it already is, and now you're selling it to an off the grid buyer.

Escaping the police wasn't something new, it's become routinely. You'd be more concerned if the cops weren't on your tail during a delivery.

You make a sharp turn right into a short alleyway marking the start of this high speed chase.

Being the exceptional mechanic that you are, your work on this car has given it a larger than usual turn radius which allowed the turn to be much smoother, giving you a good head start.

"Why are these fuckers in the middle of road!" You yelled panickily, upon seeing the herd of people in front of you.

You don't know when people decided to ditch the sidewalks and walk in the middle of the road, but clearly, you missed the memo.  You were forced to sound the horn a few times, and luckily the pedestrians were responsive and didn't cause you to lose your lead on the cop, but it may have alerted them—if you were lucky enough to lose them in the first place.

Once you finally got out of the alleyway, your phone started ringing, stealing your focus from the dark road in front of you to glance down at your phone for a millisecond.

Anton. Your cousin.

Anton Y/l/n. Your older cousin of three years. He was an impulsive firecracker that has the tendency to rope you into his shenanigans, not deliberately of course.  Despite his flaws he'd do anything for family. You like to joke around and call him Dom Toretto, and those jokes have only gotten worse after he buzzed his head after an unfortunate grease spillage accident that was entirely his and your fault.

That five letter name is the most anxiety inducing noun known to man in your books and everytime you answer the older guy's call, you feel as if your gambling your mental health.  He could either be calling to tell you about a huge car gig that he scored for you both or that he owes a million dollar debt.

You legit never know.

You groan and answer the call, putting it on speaker and tossing the phone to the passenger seat.

"What now?" you yell over the sounds of acceleration and police sirens.

"Come to Chester and Dan's lane." He says straight to the point, not questioning the noises he hears on your end of the phone. "After your delivery of course." At this point he's used to his little cousin getting chased down by the cops too.

"What's happening at Chester and Dan?" You ask looking at the side view mirror, squinting at the piercing blue and red flashes.

"Sinners are doing a couple rounds before the big race tomorrow. Join us, it'll be fun."

You sigh at your cousin's billionth attempt to get you acquainted with the Sinners. He's been trying ever since he first started as a general member of the club to now, the leader of the street race club.

"We'll see, I'm kind of in the middle of something," you shout over the sound of the tires screeching from a sharp turn you just made.

"Ugh! I'm not gullible like the other fucks in your life. Don't 'we'll see' me thinking it'll keep me satisfied and off your back for a while."

"I'm busy."

"Just step on the gas you pussy, going past two hundred won't kill you."

With a roll of your eyes, you think that you've entertained Anton's wishes enough and hung up the phone with the determination to lose the cops and deliver the 1969 Ford Mustang you're driving in one piece.

Twenty minutes later, a handful full of sharp turns later and momentarily stopping to let a group of duckling cross the street, you were finally at your destination.

"Car looks good to me," the off the grid buyer who introduced himself as John said with an approving nod after surveying the vintage black vehicle for quite some time.

You let out a breath.  You've made your fair share of deliveries over the years, and just like Anton's calls, you never know the type of customer you're gonna get.

Some customers complain about the price of parts, or a scratch on the car that doesn't exist or they go back on their word and attempt to haggle the price to something ridiculous.

"Nice work kid," John says handing you the promised amount you both settled on a couple weeks prior.  You didn't have to count the stash of cash to know that all of it was there.

"Finally," you sigh, smiling at the wad of cash in your hands and running your thumb along the bills, walking towards the direction of home.

Suddenly a car pulls up. "Give me the cash or give me your life. Your choice." Before you can register the words, you're met with the barrel of a pistol pointed at you through an unrolled passenger side window.

You knew you weren't a fighter nor were you confrontational. Even though you grew up in the tougher parts of the town, your brain is what got you out of your predicaments. If you were a fighter you wouldn't be spending your life stealing, fixing and selling cars.

Laughter interrupted you from handing over the cash.  Confused, you focus on the face holding the glock, and all previous thoughts disappeared and was now replaced with relief and anger.

"What the fuck Anton!" you angrily say, hopping into the passenger seat of the car next to your laughing cousin.

You knew better than to question the fact that your cousin had a gun. When you're the leader of a street race club, you need protection. Especially when all the other club owners own a gun, and fights always break out.

"You should've seen your face," he slips out in his fit of laughter, beginning to drive off as his cousin settles in his car.

"I thought you were street smart, you know better than to walk around this time flaunting your cash."

"I can handle myself, but yeah I should've been more careful. I was just a little excited finally getting paid," You admit, recalling the rut you've recently been in and the struggles you and your mother have recently been facing to make ends meet.

Anton acknowledges the response, "You know you could always ask me for help?

"My mom wouldn't take it."

Anton let's out a loud sigh, "No offense dude, but I don't get your mom's deal.  She acts as if I'm the reason our dads are dead."

You wince at the mention of your dead fathers.  Sometimes you wonder how Anton could talk about this stuff so easily.  "You just resemble Uncle so much, and to be fair you are following the same path as him."

Anton's father and yours, who were brothers, founded the Sinner's Race Club.  Anton's dad had always been your father's right-hand man in races, often riding in the passenger seat.  During a high-stakes race meant to settle a territory dispute, the brakes on your father's car failed, and both men were pronounced dead at the scene.

Since then, your mom understandably kept you away from cars, Anton, and anything related to the race club. She forbade you from getting a driver's license and doesn't even know you have one. Hiding it wasn't difficult, though, given that your family has more pressing expenses than a car.

"Alright, we're here," Your cousin announces, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I still think you should show up tomorrow. Sleep on it."

You step out of the car, once Anton puts the money you made from your sale in a spare backpack he had. So your mom wouldn't ask questions.

"How was your shift?" your mom asks from the couch as you walk through the door.

"Fine, just sore from lifting all those boxes," you lie smoothly.

"Hmm, get to bed early tonight."

As you head toward your room, her voice calls out again. "Oh, and Y/n," she says, making you turn back. "That better not have been Anton dropping you off."

You stay silent and head to bed, unsure of what tomorrow will bring.

————

"How the hell does your mom not catch on? She really thinks some warehouse gig's got you pullin' in forty grand at a time?"

You wipe the sweat of your brow, while you grab a car wrench. "She doesn't know I make that much, I help pay the rent and get food on our table. The rest I save."

"Smart. So, what's the big plan? Get outta Brimstone? Buy yourself a mansion in Summer Valley?" Mason sneers condescendingly.

This morning, you woke up to a text from Anton that convinced you to at least help prep the cars for tonight's big race, even if you don't plan on showing up. Now, you find yourself at the Brimstone Sinner's garage, the garage where you do your car modifications which sits at the edge of Sinner territory.

The place is buzzing with other club members scattered around, working on various cars. You, Anton, and—unfortunately—Mason, a friend of Anton's, who somehow wormed his way into the conversation, are huddled by the main cars, making sure they're in prime condition for the race.

"Ay! Stop distracting my best mechanic!" Anton shouts over the hood of the car to Mason.

Before you knew it you were rolling under the car via the creeper to work on the underside of the car. As you were finishing up you suddenly heard the garage go dead silent, but you didn't know why since your view was limited.

You hear Anton break the silence, "You got some fucking nerve walking into my garage asshat."

As you were lying on your back you could see about one foot from the ground up. You couldn't see who it was, but you could tell where they were from. The grey Dior dunks paired with the most unfashionable pants ever told you everything you needed to know.

Someone from Summer Valley is here.

Then came the laugh. That short, arrogant chuckle, the kind that practically exhaled wealth. Privilege. The very thing you despised.

"Just wanted to see you pussies before you lose all your dignity—oh and your garage. I'm already imagining what I'm gonna do with the place," the voice laughs again.

The conversation around you fades as your mind fixates on a single phrase. Lose the garage? Your hand curls into a tight fist, knuckles turning white. Did your dumbass cousin actually gamble the garage for tonight's race?

You try to focus your hearing, trying to see if anyone else is upset by the fact. But it's silent, they're unfazed, indifferent to the fact that Anton—the club's supposed leader—might have just wagered the club's most valuable asset. Property. You let out a sharp exhale. This is exactly what you couldn't stand about racers. They're all thrill-seeking junkies who only care about going fast. Does no one else here realize the gravity of losing this garage?

Anton snaps you back to reality. "Percy you ain't riding tonight if you're dead. Now get the fuck out before you catch a bullet."

Percy.

Leader of the Summer Valley Vipers. Just another privileged trust fund brat, bored one summer, who saw that the kids on the wrong side of the tracks had a race club and wanted in. So formed his own club. For the Vipers, racing was a hobby. For anyone from Brimstone? It was survival.

Once the obnoxious figure in those ridiculous pants left the garage, you rolled out from under the car, wiping grease from your hands. A quick glance around told you that everyone had already returned to their tasks, like the tense exchange with the Viper hadn't even happened.

Jaw clenched, you stomped over to Anton and gave him a firm nudge—just hard enough to make your frustration clear. "What the hell, Ant?"

Anton, mid-conversation with Madison—one of the club's members—turned to face you, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"What? Seriously?" you snap. "What was Pissy going on about, losing the garage?"

He let out a long, drawn-out sigh before flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Relax, Y/n. It's just to raise the stakes, nothing serious."

"Nothing serious?" you say, mirroring his words once again. "This is my fucking livelihood, I can't live without this garage Ant? Where else am I going to fix cars?!"

Anton calmy takes one last drag, puts out his cigarette, and gestures for you to follow him outside of the garage, away from the rest of the club members.

Once you were outside Anton wasted no time in getting to the point.

"I'm only gonna say this once, Y/n. Don't ever talk to me like that in front of my people again. I run this crew."

His gaze softened slightly as he added, "I know we're family, but out here, I gotta be their leader. You get me?"

You nod understanding the politics of running a club like this. It wasn't simple and it wasn't like Anton was being rude to you.

"Now kid, listen to me very closely." Anton starts, his eyes narrowing, words firm.

You hated when he called you "kid," and Anton damn well knew it.  He was only three years older, but you decided to bite your tongue this time, sensing he had something important to say.

"You don't take risks," he said, his voice steady.

You opened your mouth to cut him off, but he quickly held up a hand, his words rushing out before you could get a word in. "—hold on, let me finish! I know you think stealing cars, making illegal mods, and dodging the feds is risky—and yeah, it is... for most people. But not for you. You're too good at it. It's not a risk when you know you're always gonna pull it off. You're in your comfort zone. You don't even flinch anymore."

You crossed your arms, shaking your head. "I don't need the gamble, Ant. Why would I put myself in a position to lose something—everything?"

"But why wouldn't you?" Anton fires back passionately.

For a moment neither of you say anything.

"That's the problem, Y/n," he said finally, his voice low. "You don't take real risks anymore because you're afraid to lose. But sometimes... you gotta lose something to really win. You know what I'm saying?"

You frowned, not fully understanding. "What's that even supposed to mean? I'm not trying to play some high-stakes game just for the thrill of it."

"That's not what I'm talking about, kid. I'm saying there's more to life than just getting by. You can't just keep doing the same shit because it's easy and familiar.  You gotta challenge yourself, push yourself outta that comfort zone. That's where the real reward is."

You shifted uncomfortably, not liking where the conversation was headed. "So what, you want me to throw myself into danger for no reason? What are you really getting at, Ant?"

His gaze stayed steady, not backing down. "I'm talking about the garage. Everything we've built. If you keep playing it safe, we'll stay small. But if we take some risks?  We could grow this into something huge, we could run the city, Y/n."

His words hung in the air, heavy. You hesitated, feeling the pressure. "And what's the catch?"

A slow smirk crept onto his face as he leaned in. "The catch is, we go all in, or we lose it all."

Your head shook slightly, confused and uneasy. Anton sounded insane right now, with all this talk of taking over the city. "I don't know," you muttered, your voice wavering.

"I'm not saying you have to. Maybe this," he said, gesturing around the garage and the cars. "...isn't your thing, and that's fine. But you've got to find what is. What's your purpose, your drive Y/n/n? What makes your heart race? What's worth risking everything for?"

————

"Just get home safe, and grab me a pack of cigarettes on your way," your mom says, her tone casual.  You exhale, relieved she let you leave without too many questions.

After your talk with Anton, and spending hours tuning up cars for the race, you head home, but your mind lingers on what your cousin said earlier.  His words hit deeper than you care to admit—he was right.  You've been stuck in your comfort zone for far too long, and you can't even remember the last time you did something that pushed your boundaries.

So, here you are, lying to your mom about getting called in for a late night shift when in reality, you're on your way to the race between the Sinners and Vipers.

Anton was practically beaming when you told him you were finally coming to the race.  He couldn't wait to give you a ride to the track.

"Took me, what—six years?  Finally got you to show up," Anton shakes his head, laughing as you slide into the passenger seat.

You ignore his teasing, cutting straight to the point.  "You nervous?"

"Nah, fuck no. Pussy's a trash driver—he's got nothing on me."

Your eyes widen.  "Wait, this is a title race?"

You didn't realize the leaders of both clubs were squaring off tonight.  A title race meant more than bragging rights—both sides were gambling big, this race could mean life or death for both clubs.

You were about to ask what else Anton had on the line besides the garage, but the car suddenly surged forward, the burst of speed nearly throwing you out of your seat.

"What the hell! Slow down!" you shout, gripping the armrest tightly.

"Relax, I'm not even hitting two hundred yet—"

The older driver begins to roll his windows up, a sign that he wants to go even faster. The world outside blurred as the engine roared, drowning out the sound of your pulse hammering in your ears.

"Anton. Stop." Your voice is steady, firmer than ever leaving no room for argument.

The driver sighs, gradually slowing the car down to legal road limits.  "You need to get over it eventually Y/n."

Those were the last words said for the remainder of the ride, you didn't want to argue with your cousin before he has one of the biggest races of his life. He knew why you were antsy with the going beyond a certain speed limit. He knew. Of course, he knew. The crash. The speed. The helplessness you felt back then. You gritted your teeth, willing yourself not to dwell on it, not to bring it up again.

You finally pull into the track, and your eyes widen in awe. It's like you were stepping onto the movie set of Fast and Furious. The area is packed with custom cars, their paint jobs gleaming under the glow of neon lights and street lamps, unique to fit the personality of each driver. Engines roar and rev, filling the air with a pulse that matches the energy of the crowd. People are everywhere—leaning against cars, laughing, shouting over the music blasting from speakers.

The race course itself stretches down a wide, abandoned road, littered with warehouses and graffiti-covered walls. Smoke drifts in the air from burning rubber, and the smell of gasoline is thick. You can feel the intensity of the competition buzzing in the air. This wasn't just a race—it was a spectacle, alive with adrenaline and danger.

Anton slowly turns into beneath a large abandoned overpass that you've often heard was a hotspot for racers and ragers. You pan your eyes across the windshield and immediately spot the rival race crews: a sea of black jackets to the right and a wall of red to the left, each group eyeing each other with the tension only moments from snapping.

You were so caught up in the moment you didn't even notice Anton turn the volume up as he played I Don't Fuck with You by Big Sean while rolling past the Viper's crew. Typical Anton—always stirring the pot. The Vipers glared but didn't act, clearly aware of who you were. You both look at each other and laugh as you join the rest of your crew a bit further into the underpass.

As your cousin parks the car he grabs something from the back seat and tosses it onto your lap—a black leather jacket.

You stared at it for a moment.  The design was unmistakable. A large, detailed skull with flames rising behind it, symbolizing both danger and speed. The club's name, Sinners, arched above the skull in bold gothic, tattoo-style font. The club your father founded. The legacy you never wanted.

Your chest tightened as you ran your fingers over the smooth leather. Putting it on would be more than just an outfit choice—it would be an open declaration of association. Your mom would kill you if she ever found out.

Sensing your hesitation, Anton laughed. "Relax, I can see the steam coming out of your head from here. You don't have to wear it, alright? Just throw it over your shoulder or something. People need to know who you're with, that's all."

With that, you both stepped out of the car, and the cheers erupted. They were loud, wild, and unmistakably for Anton—he was their leader. But as the energy surged through the crowd, you couldn't help but wonder if a few of those cheers were meant for you. After all, it was your first time showing up to a race.

As you slipped into the crowd, a few familiar faces greeted you with nods and casual grins, clearly surprised to see you here.  You exchanged small talk with some of the members, their conversations a mix of race gossip, bets, and tales of past victories. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, but as the minutes ticked by, you felt the need to break away, the noise and energy overwhelming you.

Stepping out from the cluster of people, you wandered toward the edge of the underpass, taking in the scene.  The place was massive—graffiti-streaked pillars towering above, just like the one you were leaning against.

You took this moment to observe the Vipers. You've always had the displeasure of seeing the odd one or two while you were out doing your runs, but this is the first time you've seen the entire crew together. Your eyes land on a certain member. Percy. The only one that had a leader patch on the right sleeve of his jacket, an absurd attempt to assert dominance. You laugh at how lame this guy is. Anton exudes leader, he didn't need a patch on his sleeve reminding everyone he is one.

As you continue making your observations about the Vipers, from the corner of your eye, you noticed movement—someone else seeking the same kind of quiet as you. You glanced over, and there she was, leaning against the opposite side of the same pillar as you. The roar of engines and the blaring music made it easy to miss each other until now.

She was alone, her red jacket slung casually over her arm, a cigarette between her fingers. The contrast of her dark hair against the dim lighting made her stand out even more, and for a moment, she hadn't noticed you.

You tried not to stare, but there was something magnetic about her presence—like the calm before a storm. She flicked her eyes in your direction and froze, her gaze locking onto yours as if she wasn't expecting company either.

She glanced up at the black jacket draped over your shoulder, then at her own red one, casually slung over her arm. With a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk, she broke the silence.

"Guess neither of us is feeling the uniform tonight, huh?" she said, flicking ash from her cigarette, her voice low and surprisingly soft.

Of course her voice had to be the sexiest thing you've ever heard. You remained silent, not because you wanted to, but you didn't know how to respond. This is the first time you've ever spoken to a Viper—a hot Viper at that. You didn't know how to interact with a pretty girl, let alone someone who should be your sworn rival.

"Didn't think anyone else would find this spot," she sighs, not sure if she was saying it to you or outloud to herself.

You pushed off the pillar slightly, offering a small shrug. "Needed a breather."

She smirked, exhaling smoke slowly. "Yeah? Thought you Sinners thrived on chaos."

You glanced at the jacket hanging over your shoulder, then back at her. "Guess I'm not like the others." You weren't going to explain to a stranger that you technically aren't a Sinner but you also are.

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Clearly." There was a pause, then she gave you a once-over, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "So, what's a Sinner doing hiding out here, away from the action?"

You crossed your arms, feeling the pull of the conversation. "Could ask you the same thing. Vipers don't usually stray from their pack."

She let out a soft laugh, the sound almost lost in the night air. "Maybe I needed a break from all the posturing. You know how it is."

Posturing. What an interesting way to put it you thought to yourself. She wasn't wrong,  but it was an oddly honest thing to bring up barely thirty seconds into the conversation. As intrigued as you are, you're also cautious.

You glanced her over in return, taking in her outfit—black combat boots, short black shorts, and a plain white tee, almost identical to the one you were wearing. It was shocking to see a girl from Summer Valley dressed so simply. But the simplicity suited her. She didn't need to be extravagant to stand out, if it wasn't for the jacket on her arm, you would've totally mistaken her for a flag girl, the ones who countdown the race. You've always heard that they're the most beautiful girls on the track, but clearly it wasn't the case tonight.

Your eyes met again, and something unspoken hung in the air between you. Two people from rival crews, both stepping away from the world that defined them.

She held your gaze. You didn't know what it was behind those intense brown eyes. Hatred, curiosity, attraction, a cry for help? You couldn't tell, but you also didn't want to define it. Defining it may mean having to look away. And you didn't want that.  Maybe she didn't either, you doubt she would force herself to stay here with you if she didn't want to.

The universe however, had other plans. The voice of one of the flag girls crackled through the megaphone, cutting through the tension. "The big day is finally here!" The rest of her corny speech faded into the background as your focus remained on the girl in front of you.  She tore her eyes from yours, sighed, and glanced back at her club.

"I have to go.  See you around, Greaser."

"Greaser?" you echoed, raising a brow.

She smirked, giving you a slow, deliberate once-over before turning away.

As much as you wanted to watch her walk away, curiosity tugged at you, pulling your gaze down.  You glanced at yourself and chuckled softly—faded blue jeans, white tee, and a black leather jacket.  Yeah, you did kind of look like a greaser tonight.

But then you saw it.  A grease stain on your shirt.  You chuckled softly. So that's why.

You decided it was time to head back to your group. You return a bit more upbeat than when you'd left. As you approached, you noticed Anton climbing into the car you'd been working on earlier with the crew gathered around, wishing him luck before the race. That's when he spotted you at the edge of the crowd and waved you over. The group parted, and soon you were standing face to face with Anton.

"You look happy. Having fun?" he shouted over the roar of his engine and Percy's nearby.

"It's been pretty cool," you replied with a shrug, nodding along—though it wasn't the race itself you were enjoying, but who it had brought here.

Anton hummed in approval before dapping you up and pulling you into a quick hug. "I'll see you in a bit," he grinned, hyping up his team one last time before sliding into the driver's seat, Mason settling into the passenger side.

As Anton shut his door, your eyes drifted to the car next to his. You watched Percy with his crew, their energy almost a mirror of your own. But then you saw something that left you utterly confused.

The mystery girl. She was on her tiptoes, arms wrapped around Percy's neck in a hug that felt way too intimate for your liking.

Is she his girl?  Disgusting. More thoughts crept in, but you quickly shut it down. She was a Viper, and you'd only talked to her for ten minutes. You didn't get to feel some type of way about it. She was just...intriguing. Nothing more.

You shook your head, trying to dispel the thoughts. Focus on the race, focus on Anton. You told yourself.

You take a step back and settle in a spot between Madison and Hunter as the flag girls strutted to the front of the starting line, their boots clicking against the asphalt. One girl raised a checkered flag high, her red lips curled into a seductive smile as she glanced at both drivers. The other girl held the megaphone to her lips.

"Racers, are you ready?!" Her voice echoed across the lot, the engines revving in response.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!" Time seemed to slow. The crowd held its breath, and for a split second all that existed was the hum of engines, the gleam of metal, and the flashing lights.

Then, with a flick of her wrist, the flag girl swung the checkered flag down, and the cars exploded off the line.

Anton's car launched forward, while Percy's stayed right on his tail, neck and neck. The crowd erupted into cheers, the sheer speed of the cars leaving only a blur of metal behind them as they tore down the street.

With the cars gone you had nothing left to distract you from your thoughts. What were you genuinely doing here, you ask yourself.

Your eyes wandered back to the spot where you had last seen her. That girl—the one who had slipped into your mind with just a few words and a lingering look. Now, with Percy racing down the track, she stood with another Viper. This one was taller, with short hair, and they were both laughing, completely at ease with each other.

You laugh in disbelief shaking your head. This didn't seem like posturing to you, she seemed like she had fit right in. But again you catch yourself thinking, why were you even upset? She never said she hated her crew, she never said anything that implied she was like you, and now you wonder if you interpreted your interaction with her to something you wanted it to be rather than what it actually was.

The thought crept in, unwelcome. Maybe you were projecting your own loneliness, your desire to feel seen, onto someone who didn't even feel the same way. Someone who was just passing time in a moment. She was a Viper, fully a part of this world, while you were just an outsider passing through.

You turned to Madison and Hunter. "I'm gonna grab a drink. You guys want anything?"

They shook their heads, and you made your way to one of the cars stocked with drinks in the trunk. You opted for a soda rather than a beer.

You leaned against the car, slowly sipping your soda and trying to clear your head. The night had taken a strange turn—what started as excitement was now muddy with emotions you weren't sure how to handle. The hum of conversation and the occasional laughter from nearby crews were the only sounds cutting through the noise in your mind.

Then, suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.

It was subtle at first, a ripple of unease passing through the crowd. You heard hushed whispers and saw people glancing toward the far end of the lot. Then, like a wave crashing down, the sound of sirens pierced the night.

"Cops!" someone yelled, and the panic spread like wildfire.

People scrambled in every direction, grabbing their things and sprinting for their cars. Engines roared to life, and tires screeched as racers and spectators alike tried to escape before the police descended on the scene.

You tossed your soda to the ground, adrenaline surging through you as you looked around for Madison and Hunter, but they were already sprinting towards the opposite direction with the rest of the crew. You turned to follow, but something made you stop.

She wasn't moving.

In the chaos, you spotted her standing in the middle of the lot, frozen, her eyes wide but not making any attempt to run.  She wasn't panicked—she looked more...indifferent, like the flashing red and blue lights didn't mean anything to her.

Without thinking, you darted towards her. Your heart pounded in your chest as you weaved through the fleeing crowd, the sound of sirens growing louder by the second. When you reached her, you didn't hesitate—you grabbed her arm and pulled her.

"Come on!" you shouted over the noise, but she barely reacted, her feet stumbling as you dragged her away from the open lot.

You didn't stop until you reached the mouth of a narrow alleyway between two buildings. You pulled her into the shadows, pressing your back against the wall as you caught your breath. She was in front of you, calm in a way that made no sense considering the chaos unfolding behind you.

She gazed at you, a hint of amusement in her eyes as she was catching her breath. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

You shot her a look, exasperated. "You're welcome."

The distant sound of police radios crackled through the air as you both stood in silence, waiting for the madness to pass.

"You really should be more careful," you said, trying to break the silence. "It's not safe out there, especially with the cops around."

She shrugged, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I guess I'm just used to it. But I appreciate the concern."

You couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and curiosity. "So, what do you usually do in moments like this? Just... stand around?"

Her laughter was light, almost melodic. "Well, not exactly. Usually, I'd just blend in and keep my head down. But you've thrown a bit of a wrench in that plan."

"Is that a bad thing?" you asked, intrigued.

"Not necessarily," she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But it's definitely unexpected."

You took a step closer, feeling the distance between you narrow. "And here I thought I was just being a good Samaritan."

"Good Samaritan, huh?" She raised an eyebrow, playful yet cautious. "Seems like you might be getting in over your head, then."

"Maybe I like the thrill," you shot back, trying to keep the mood light. But beneath the banter, you both knew the stakes were higher than either of you wanted to admit.

"Well, be careful what you wish for," she said softly, her expression shifting momentarily to something more serious. "Not everything is as exciting as it seems."

You paused, trying to decipher her words. There was a depth to her that hinted at more than she was letting on. But before you could ask, she turned her gaze back to the alley,

Your phone suddenly dinged, breaking the tension. You glanced at it and saw a message from Mason.

"Seems like the cops cut the race short. Your crew lives to see another day."

You chuckled, but she didn't respond, just watching you with her doe eyes. You thought about what it would be like to give in.

But just then, the light caught her wrist, glinting off the expensive bracelet she wore.  The sight of it sent a jolt through you—a stark reminder that she was from Summer Valley, a Viper, and probably a handful you couldn't handle.

The realization hit hard, and you felt a rush of uncertainty. She was part of a world you didn't want to dive into, no matter how intriguing she might be.

You decide to walk off, out of the alley.

"Hey! Where are you going?" she called out, jogging to catch up.

"Home. The cops seem to be gone," you replied, keeping your tone light, words short.

The brown-eyed girl looked confused, she thought you were building a connection. Now you were suddenly dismissive, leaving without a word, and you could see her trying to process it.

"...Wait, um..." she stammered, hesitating as if searching for the right words.

You turned back, sensing the moment hanging between you.  You had a feeling you knew what she was going to say, and a knot formed in your stomach.

You took a step back, breaking the spell. "I really should go," you said, your voice firm, not giving her a chance to speak. You turned away, leaving her standing there, a mixture of confusion and disappointment on her face.

With that, you turned and walked deeper into the night. You could feel her watching you, but you kept moving, the weight of your decision heavy in your chest. But telling her your name would mean chaos.

As you navigated the alley, Anton's words echoed in your mind. "Maybe this isn't your thing, and that's fine. But you've got to find what is. What's your purpose, your drive? What makes your heart race? What's worth risking everything for?"

You were sure it wasn't her. As much as you felt a connection, you couldn't get further involved with the race world. She was just a pretty girl you met, and seemed to have some semblance of intellectuality. You know how this ends and its not pretty. You had responsibilities waiting at home—your mom counting on you, the weight of family expectations pressing down like a heavy fog.  You had to figure things out on your own, even if it meant leaving her behind.

You can't just be the calculated person that you are and then immediately start taking risks because your cousin told you to. This was your nature. Careful.

Still, a part of you wondered if the real risk was not in chasing the girl but in denying yourself the chance to discover what could truly make your heart race.

next chapter

[bluejeanstrash]

11/10

a/n: i got this idea from an nsfw prompt generator so if anyone else has already done this, that could be why ✌️

tags: fwb! seungcheol, overstimulation, semi-dacryphilia, forced orgasms

w/c: 2.3k

in hindsight, telling the most competitive guy you know that you may or may not be faking your orgasms with him was probably not the best idea.

it was just 4 hours ago when jun had suggested a game of truth or drink. and it was just 3 hours 45 minutes ago when he had asked you ‘have you ever faked an orgasm?’

‘yeah?’ you’d answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. and because whatever was in that alcohol was making you loose-lipped, you had continued.

‘in fact-’ a pause ‘-and i’m not proud of this, but i’m really good at it. the guy could never tell’

there was an immediate murmur of we can tell around the table but you interrupted.

‘trust me, you can’t. those guys still think they’ve given me the best sex of my life but they were horrible. i faked it so i could get done with it and go home’ you took a sip of your drink despite answering.

‘so, anyway, yes i’ve faked it. many times’ you had concluded, looking directly at seungcheol when you said that. you didn’t mean to look at him, he was just there in your line of sight.

he also had this funny expression on his face, somewhere between amused and offended.

were you trying to tell him something?

seungcheol and you were in a (secret) friends with benefits thing. you didn’t really call it that but that’s what it was. it had happened as a result of another game of truth or drink around 3 months ago, and thankfully, every orgasm with him in those 3 months had been very much legit.

so, when you’d seen him outside the bathroom later you’d clarified.

‘you know i wasn’t talking about you, right?’ you reassured.

‘of course you weren’t’ he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it had annoyed you. no man should be that confident.

‘oh? confident much?’

he’d leaned in, a little too close for being in public, and said ‘i may not know a lot of things...but i know how to make a woman cum’

and as his thumb softly grazed your lips, he’d stated ‘i know how to make you cum’

‘do you?’ you retorted, moving back ‘or have i been faking it and you just think you’re doing a good job?’

you don’t know why but you kind of wanted to piss him off. i mean sure, you were sleeping with him, but seungcheol was your friend before a fuck and it was always fun messing with him. 

‘what are you trying to do?’ he’d asked, an eyebrow raised in mild annoyance.

is this a challenge?

‘i’m not trying to do anything’ big. fat. lies. ‘i’m just saying you’d never know’

sounds like a challenge to him.

(12:40 am)

‘please, no more!’ you move under his arms, writhing desperately.

‘answer the question’ he holds you in place, his grip tightening around you.

‘how many was that?’

‘f-fou-r’

‘did you fake that one?’ he asks softly.

‘no, i didn’t! i fucking swear!’ 

‘hmmn’ you feel a trail of gentle kisses travel up your neck ‘but you said i would never know, remember?’ 

seungcheol’s voice sounds sweet. so very sweet. but you know that tone—it's pure condescension masquerading as sweetness.

right now, you’re sitting on the floor, back pressed to seungcheol’s chest, locked in his heavy arms. 

after jun’s, he’d offered to drive you home, which had recently become code for ‘let’s go fuck’. and before you could even kiss him at your apartment, he’d grabbed your vibrator.

he’d made you sit in front of the floor length mirror, nestled in between his legs, with a towel laid out underneath as he played with you. were you getting pampered today? maybe.

it sure felt like it after the first orgasm, and the second. but when he’d moved on to your third before you were even done with the last, you realised what this was. a lesson. a lesson for running your mouth.

‘another one then, just to be sure’ he hums, before pressing the vibrator back against your clothed cunt.

40 minutes in and seungcheol hadn’t even bothered to take your panties off. there was something quite erotic about seeing that damp patch on your underwear spread as he made you cum over and over. proof, he called it. and by now you were soaked, the silky fabric clinging to your puffy lips.

you squirm at his words, fingers digging into his skin at the overstimulation. he doesn’t even flinch.

‘look what you’re making me do to you’ he clicks his tongue like it’s a pity. like he doesn’t fucking love it.

‘you know i want to let you go, right? but we just have to be sure so there’s no confusion about this in the future’

subtext: if you ever fucking insinuate that i can’t make you cum, i’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.

you try and wriggle again, but there’s no point—you’re completely at his mercy.

‘tsk, don’t move around so much. you should rest now. you’ll need the energy’ he cooes.

you can only whine helplessly at his words as you feel your brain and body consumed by a familiar high. and so you cum again, moaning his name as you do.

‘how many?’ he asks while you’re still coming down from it.

‘f-five’ 

‘did you fake that one?’

you tell him you didn’t. you promise.

‘are you sure about that?’ 

‘i’m sure! seungcheol please’

‘hmmn’ for a second there he actually contemplates letting you go but your cocky little words ring in his ear.

‘i’m not’ sadistic fuck. and once again you feel the relentless vibration as you jerk forward, your legs clamping shut. immediately, seungcheol drags you back, his lips gathered in a pout of displeasure as he drapes one heavy leg over yours to spread you open. 

‘where are you going? hmmn?’ he presses the head against your throbbing clit, not letting up for even a second as he forces another orgasm out of you. your sixth.

drained. that’s how you feel after you cum, your body falling limp against his. ‘seungcheol, i’m done’ you whine feebly, hoping to garner a little sympathy.

‘no, no’ he shushes you ‘we’re not close to being done here. i haven’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. how can we be done?’

he leans forward, two fingers grabbing the fabric of your wet panties to pull them aside. ‘how pretty’ he smiles, gaze fixated on your slick cunt, and a split second later you hear the hum of the vibrator again. the second it touches your exposed cunt, a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

‘f-fuck’ you curse, feeling that knot in your stomach just a few minutes later.

‘coming already?’ he taunts as you end up giving him another. 

‘that makes seven’ he counts it for you like he’s helping you out. you’re not sure how far he wants to push you today, but you do know you need to make it easier for you somehow.

‘please…can’t anymore…the vibrator’ you manage to string together in between quick gasps. the intensity of it against your swollen clit is too much. you need relief—something soft, something warm, something gentle—like seungcheol’s fingers. 

after what seems like forever, the buzzing stops. ‘thank you’ you whimper and are met with a wry chuckle, his body shaking behind you.

‘you shouldn’t thank me yet’ he whispers. one of his big hands wraps around your throat giving it a light squeeze before sliding down your body to your cunt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

‘so wet for someone who’s faking it’ he mutters to himself, thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds as he scoops up your arousal, pushing it back inside you. his finger slips in so easily that he adds a second. as he fucks you, fingers moving in and out, a vulgar squelching noise fills the room.

‘so fucking wet’ the softness of his voice now layered with something heavier. you can tell feeling you with his bare hands must’ve really turned him on. or at least that’s what his hard on pressing into your back is saying.

as you watch his fingers disappear inside you and come out all slick and shiny, your body somehow starts to crave another orgasm. 

he knows it too. the way your walls begin to squeeze around him as he curls his fingers up, two stimulating your g-spot, while his thumb rubs your clit, all working up an incredibly hard orgasm. 

‘go on…let me see you cum for me’ his voice is all you needed to hear, because a second later you come, for the eight time, gushing all over his fingers. 

‘look at yourself’ he commands.

you do, looking lazily at your reflection through tired eyes.

‘look’ he grabs your face, forcing you to look.

‘what’s that dripping out of you?’

your eyes drop to the towel that has a very telling wet patch on it. getting overstimulated with the vibrator always made you a little messy but not like this; never like this.

‘answer me’

‘cum’ and so much of it. the way it’s stained the towel, the way it’s spread all over your inner thighs, and the way it’s still dripping out of you is such a pretty sight for seungcheol.

but you’re exhausted. it was so intense and there’s no way you can do it again. 

‘seungcheol…i don’t have any left in me’ he can’t help but smile at your silly little statement.

‘no?’ he plays along, pulling you closer. his one hand grabs your breast, softly caressing it, before taking your nipple in between his fingers. his other, slides down to your swollen clit to rub in slow circles. and finally, his soft lips kiss down your neck, peppering little pecks along the way before stopping at that spot that only he knows exists. and as he stimulates all three so slowly and sensually, you feel your body start to betray you. 

‘when did you turn into such a little liar, hmm?’ he asks, feeling your body start to tense up like it always did before release. he knows this feeling, he’s felt this over and over for the past three months—you can’t fool him. and as you bite back your moans, it takes over, and you cum again. number nine. seungcheol smiles to himself, and doesn’t stop.

he keeps going despite you just having given him one. it’s sore and sensitive but the way his lips have latched on to that spot on your neck it’s impossible not to surrender.

in a consistent rhythm he builds your high back up - neck. breasts. clit. you look at yourself in the reflection and god, it’s so erotic. the way he’s holding you—tight and completely under his control, his arms flexing as he masturbates you—makes you dizzy.

you want to curse and scream as you cum but you’re too overstimulated to formulate a single thought. only eager little moans spill out of your mouth.

‘go on, i know you want to’ he coaxes as you do, thrashing and tugging at the fabric of his pants.

‘i thought you had no more left in you?’ he teases as you come down from your tenth.

maybe it was a lie before but now you really don’t. isn’t 10 enough? he has to be satisfied with that. there’s a few seconds of silence when you think he might be. he lulls you into a false sense of security as your eyes fall shut, and then the sick sound of the vibrator fills the room again. no.

‘what do i need to do?’ your eyes sting with regret as you feel it touch your extremely sensitive clit.

you know what you need to do. you just don’t want to do it.

he pushes it harder, toying with you. fine.

‘i’m sorry, okay?’ a desperate apology finally spills out. 

‘i take it back! you would know if you made me cum’ you whine. he says nothing, simply increasing the intensity.

‘i’m sorry’ your voice breaks as two perfect tears roll down your cheeks. until now, seungcheol had only ever pushed you to tears from the denial of pleasure, never from too much of it. he finds it incredibly arousing.

‘you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate’ he says, looking at your pathetic reflection in the mirror. you look so pretty with those wet eyes and a dripping wet pussy that he suddenly feels forgiving.

‘cum for me again and i’ll let you go’ he kisses your neck. a wet little kiss.

‘i can’t’ you cry, tears flowing free now. ‘i can’t’ 

‘you can’ and you will for him.

‘you’re going to give me one more’ he says like you have no choice in the matter and presses the vibrator harder against you as you grab onto his arms. 

‘shhh, don’t cry. be a good girl now and cum for me again. then i’ll believe you’ he cooes.

‘show me…show me how you can’t fake it with me’

as your start to spasm, your body shaking under him, you let out a moan, half of pleasure, half of exhaustion. you grip him harder, nails leaving red scratches all over his pale skin as the orgasm takes over.

he watches, fascinated at how you’re still giving him body shaking, toe curling orgasms after this many; at how your body moves at his command. he’s satisfied.

finally, you hear the buzzing stop as he puts the vibrator away. he wraps both arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear.

‘how many was that?’

‘eleven’ you admit, not believing the number coming out of your mouth.

he smiles. god, it feels really fucking good to have been proved right 11 times. his eyes drop to the mess you’ve made—on the towel, on his hands, between your own legs and he feels extremely smug.

‘so, did you learn your lesson?’ he asks sweetly, placing a single kiss on your shoulder.

‘yes! i did. i promise!’ 

did you? well, if this is your punishment you may just have to piss him off again.

[inklore]

Legit can’t think of anything other then Miguel catching you trying to get off then edging you for the entire fucking night.

torment

— miguel o'hara x wife!reader

word count: 813

warnings: eighteen+ content, i haven't seen the movie yet so that's a warning i guess, unprotected p in v, multiple o's, over stimulation, dirty talk, quick bj mention, miguel is a pleasure dom don't argue with me, amorcito means sweetheart.

note: i hope you don't mind i took this idea and changed it a bit lovey because while yet i would love this, the idea of him handing out orgasms like little torture candies for his own pleasure of watching and feeling you do it drives me freaking nuts omg. i need him.

When Miguel presses two fingers onto your clit, the obscene noises that are coming from where the two of you are connected—where the squelch of your mixed fluids are composing a symphony of desire, where you're coating Miguel's cock entirely, where your thighs are slick and sticky with your own wetness—only intensify. 

Your eyes rolling back, your teeth digging into your bottom lip, and your eyelids drooping in that pitiful way that makes him smile when you turn to face him. 

Your current position has you perfectly spread for him as he spears you with his cock; in his lap, your back pressed to his chest, legs spread out on either side of his knees. 

When he walked through the door hours ago, your overjoyed smile and blissful conversation quickly turned into smirks and moans molded against his mouth. His fingers doing the talking—the steady pull of your clothes from your body, the grip on your hips as he pulled you down on top of him on the nearest surface. His claws come out for half a second, digging into your hip to tug your hips forward and back against his hardness. 

Letting you know his restraint was holding on by a thread. 

“Miss me?” His lips moved along your neck. Your nod answered with a, “gonna show me how much?” which led to you on your knees between his legs with his cock pressed against your tongue and that scowl on his brows morphing into something pleasurable and demanding—demanding of more, to fuck your throat until you forgot how to breathe properly if your lungs weren’t trying to expand around him. 

It hadn’t lasted nearly as long as you wished before he was easily pulling you from the floor and into his lap, maneuvering you into the position he wanted, his hand around your throat as he thrust up into you. Your nails digging into his arm at the tight stretch that burned through your lower half at his girth. 

And before you could even think to continue the count—before your brain hadn’t become mush from the hammering of his hips and dirty words—you had come three times. 

Or was it four?

Five?

It was hard to tell when Miguel gave you half a respite before his fingers were back on your clit and you were squirming in his lap, making his cock hit places inside of you that had you gasping for air and arching your back. 

The sensitivity that felt like pleasurable pinpricks to the muscles of your inner thighs—and your fucked swollen walls—made your body go rigid against him. “I've been thinking about this for days,” his mouth sucks at your shoulder. The brush of his teeth makes you whimper, and the nick of one of his fangs makes your back bow. “Fucking you for hours. Making you come until you’re too swollen and sensitive to take me.” 

His hips snap up in a hard thrust that has a sob pulling through your weak moans when it’s complemented with his fingers pinching your clit between them for half a second before he continues the same rhythmic pattern that has pulled so many orgasms from your pliant body—your overworked and overfucked body—for the last hour. 

“Miguel,” your lungs try to catch the breath that he’s taking from you. By his cock, his fingers, his mouth, and teeth on the pressure points of your upper half that, as always, make you putty in his fingers for him to mold and shape into the perfect little wife waiting for him back at home to use, and take apart with his cock whenever it pleased him to do so.

The words you’re looking to say, to hopefully stop the torture he’s delivering to your swollen clit, catch on a harsh moan at the back of your throat. Miguel chuckles softly against your shoulder blade before pulling his mouth from your skin. The fingers leaving indents against your hip move to your jaw to bring your gaze back to him. 

And all you can do is shake your head at the expectant arch of his brows. 

If you could curse him for looking so good right now, you would. His heavy breathing, mixed with the growls and grunts he's been doing in your ear each time you're about to come, "that's it, that's it, you're gripping my cock s'good, amorcito," and the indent of his fingers on your thighs and throat when he needs to pull you back from that pleasurable delirium that has your eyes glazing over, are the only indications that he is as much a needy mess as you right now.

That animistic need in him completely taking over.

Miguel brings your mouths together, his tongue laces your taste buds with the taste that’s so distinctively his. “Being away from you is torture. I want you to understand how that feels.”

[apoplecticgalaxy]

Im putting this under a cut cuz its soo long omg i talk too much

I feel like Yuno doesn't necessarily have atypical morals either tho. Like her definition of right and wrong seems on par with most other people's. Thats kind of how I interpret her "I'm a respectable murderer" line, as her acknowledging that in her moral code it was something potentially wrong, but that she ultimately doesn't feel remorse bc a lack of empathy. (Also note, Es describes her as "having valued personal opinions, yet not sticking to them.") (Semi unrelated, but imo the line "i have no intent to say abortion isn't murder" implies a more neutral stance, where she just doesn't want to mentally debate if it is or not. but for the sake of her point during that discussion, saying it is murder was more effective. but i digress). That's why she doesn't ignore someone in need. I think if it was just a matter of not wanting to thinking about it, she wouldn't even bother following the standard moral code. It doesn't benefit in her in any way, because as she says, she doesn't actually care. There's no point to (for example) helping Mahiru if there's no moral or emotional gain. Thats why most people with aspd end up committing crimes, because they don't have either of these things at stake. And for her not caring about their murders, it seems more like an emotional thing as opposed to an ethical one.

As for the anger, I always interpreted that as moreso annoyance? She describes the scenerio as bothersome, as tho its more of an inconvenience than anything ("This situation's bothersome-ness has won out over the fun so I am extremely cooled off. That is all"). And for her timeline with Shidou, I didn't think she sounded angry or even annoyed at all. Maybe thats just the way i read it, tho. Even so, I don't think it's substantial enough to equate to aspd, which is what i meant lol. She's only angry/annoyed in t2, and with just reason imo.

And her disregard for her own safety isn't necessarily irresponsibility, or her actively doing things that will harm her. She just has little interest in her own wellbeing. In the case of her forgiveness, she says "Even if I was scorned by you, I would have been okay with being told I wasn't forgiven. I don't believe I'm not in the wrong. I'd accept it." It's not so much that she wants that to happen, but she would accept it. In terms of her priorities, not being falsely pitied by Es (like what's happening now) is just more important than her wellbeing, but her wellbeing is never stated to be unvalued. Also, she specifies she's willing to accept these consequences because she believes she's not totally innocent. There's a moral reason she's willing to accept Es' scorn and potentially be injured. She's not seeking it out, which implies the lack of remorse, but she's not denying it, which implies her morality.

While still flawed, the dsm5 tr does have a decent outline of aspd if you like. twist it to describe things more internal?? i guess?? what ive taken from it + my research is that the key factors are a disregard for safety, atypical morals, selfish tendencies, lack of remorse, irritability and often impulsivity. Most of those that Yuno displays I think can either tie into szpd or are on a typical scale.

TLDR I feel like a lot of her symptoms just come from disinterest / szpd things.

So im making a presentation on personality disorders and sharing the characters i think could have them. and ive realized. theres so many milgram characters who line up with the symptoms.

Like Muu having npd is an obvious one, but also on a much deeper level then ppl might realize. like shes not just arrogant, she has that defensive reaction to criticism and the distress that comes with being diminished.

And Mahiru with bpd. the instability in her relationships, the attachment issues, her whole push and pull break up situation with her bf, all of it!!

Yuno is so schizoid coded too. her whole timeline with kazui where shes like "you lie to protect yourself, but i dont care about others or myself." her coldness theming, and her indifference to a lot of things happening.

Then Haruka with dpd. the inability to take care of himself, shown by his reliance on muu. his uncertainty with a lot of things. i haven't looked into this one as much yet so i dont have many examples but. yeah.

thats all ive got for now but i will update with more if i find any 👀

[sunfyresrider]

Do you love me?

Synopsis: After a fight with his mother, she tells him you don't love him. So, Aegon does what he does best and invades your existence entirely.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Wife (you) Warnings: SMUT LEGIT JUST SMUT, oral, penetration, kissing, aegon being pathetic. Word count: 1855 Note: As I said, smut to celebrate 200 followers!!! Forgive me if this is not my best work. I wrote it during the 2 hours I have before my job. (Literally posting this as I'm in the car on my way there) Sill I hope you enjoy the depravity my brain created.

You, peacefully, were writing letters to your family you had left at home to come to King’s Landing. It smelled like shit, the red keep was suffocating, and your husband… Well, he was alright at times. 

Today wasn’t one of the days he was alright. You were preparing to give the maester your carefully written messages when the door burst open and a very disheveled Aegon ran in. It took only a moment to notice the streaks of tears that stained his cherub-like cheeks. A strawberry red bruise painted the right side of his face… 

“It happened again?” you spoke softly, a slight shiver sent down your spine when he looked at you. Aegon wore the face of a desperate, pathetic and piteous boy who lacked affection from his own kin. It nearly made your heart wrench, but you’d grown accustomed to his displays. 

He would do something wrong, sometimes almost unforgivable and his mother would act in the only way she knew how. It was a never-ending cycle, he behaved inappropriately, Alicent found out and hit him, and he came running to you to ease his suffering. 

He rushed forward, grasping you by your shoulders and squeezing them tightly. His large blue eyes pleading with yours for some comfort, a silent request to ease his suffering. “Do you love me?” Aegon’s voice was shaky and hoarse from crying or yelling, only the gods knew at this point. 

When you didn’t answer fast enough, he shook you, the frown on his face deepening. “W-wife, do you love me?” You let out a deep sigh knowing what came next. You cupped his face gently and wiped the tears away with the tips of your fingers. “Of course… I love you with all my heart.” 

His mouth twisted into a crooked smile. Aegon’s black pupils dilated and filled the vast ocean of blue around them. His hand moved to softly caress your face, pushing the loose hairs out of his way. He dragged his thumb to your bottom lip gently tugging at it. Aegon leaned in so his breath warmed your skin and his lips hovered above yours. His eyes were half lidded and lips swollen from biting them, “prove it.” 

He whispered into you, and you let out a deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You slowly shrunk down onto your knees, taking your time to unfasten the buttons that lined his trousers. You should be used to it by now, the image of his cock springing out his pants that is. Yet somehow the size never ceased to surprise you. 

To be blunt you didn’t enjoy being on your knees or giving him head. In fact, you dreaded it. However, he never failed to reward you in earnest. His constant need to prove himself worthy of something gave you something to look forward to. So, you did not hesitate to wrap your mouth around him and swirl your tongue around his tip. Your small hands that barely fit around him rubbed his length. 

Aegon moaned as your soft warm tongue glided over his shaft. He always was the noisiest man you had ever met. The sound of his pleasurable cries escaping his throat made your body fill with confidence. With each moan, his hips bucked against your face. He grabbed fistfuls of your hair pulling you closer until your nose pressed firmly against the base of his member.

You gagged at the sensation of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Delicate tears began to fall from your irises, but you managed to hold on long enough to take his full length between your lips and bob back and forth. 

“Look at me. You’re so pretty sucking my cock, wife.” The sight of you on your knees, covered in spit and drool, while you sucked his cock turned him into an animal. “Ah- I love you.” He stuttered out between whimpers.

His words always made you melt into him, they fueled a wildfire of desire inside you that only he could tame. The taste of him flooded your senses and you swallowed every drop of his precum without hesitation. You felt his cock begin to throb and his balls tighten. The amount of seed leaking into your throat steadily increasing. 

Not yet, Aegon pulled you off quickly, your mouth let go of him with a pop.  He dropped to his own knees pushing his lips into yours with a bruising force, never letting go of your hair or speaking a word. His tongue slipped into your mouth and made circles with your own. His hands moved to grope every part of your body leaving marks where they gripped. 

A soft moan left your lips when he moved to unlace the dress you were wearing. He was skilled at that making quick work of taking off your clothes while his mouth never left yours. His strong hands pushed aside your panties exposing your wetness. The cold air sending goosebumps up your body. 

Aegon pulled your legs out from underneath you seating them over his shoulders. You hadn’t realized the ache between your legs until his lips were making its way towards it. Aegon trailed wet kissed his way up your thigh and bit down hard on your inner thigh causing you to yelp.

His lips curled into a devilish smile. “Aegon please,” you whimpered underneath him. Of course, he would never say no but the sound of you begging made his cock flutter. He smirked before kissing his way back to your entrance. When his tongue slid across your clit you cried out. He teased you relentlessly, alternating licking and sucking your sensitive bud.

Your hips rose off the ground as you tried to get more friction on your needy pussy. He pulled back to place kisses and marks everywhere you didn’t need him. His hands roamed freely touching every inch of your body. Every touch sent electric shocks through you. Each kiss set your nerves ablaze. 

After a few minutes of this torture, you began pleading with him to finish what he started. “Please husband, please.” Aegon’s face moved to hover over your cunt. His nose softly brushing over your sensitive clit, “Say you love me.” 

Aegon dipped a finger into your cunt, purposely pushing on that spongy spot inside you. His lips swallowed your clit, and his tongue roughly ran circles around it.  “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love AH-” 

The feeling of his index rubbing your G-spot caused your walls to contract around his digits. Your back arched off the floor as the pleasure washed over you. A scream escaped your lips, you came undone flooding his hand with your juices. His grip tightened as he buried his face further into you. 

You tried to squirm away, the stimulation becoming too much for you to bear. You couldn't stop shaking as your orgasm overtook you. All you wanted right now was to feel his thick cock inside you. "Husband," you sobbed uncontrollably.

Aegon pulled back, proudly gazing at the mess he created. He pulled his fingers to his lips sucking on the juices you left, “you always taste so sweet for me.” He leant down and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle yet desperate kiss. The taste of yourself on his tongue flooding your mouth… He wasn’t necessarily wrong you did taste sweet. 

"Aegon,” you mewled under your breath. “Wife,” he hushed you with a deep breath as he moved to turn you onto your side. Aegon didn’t treat you how you expected. He never fucked you like a whore, he preferred to cuddle while he rammed his cock inside you. He liked being able to watch you whilst he played with your breast and the feeling of the heat from your back warming his chest. 

He placed one arm behind you pulling you tight against his bare chest. He positioned himself behind you looking down into your eyes, he gently lowered his head and claimed your lips with his own. Your tongues tangled together, his cock resting just below your slit. He rubbed himself against you, collecting all the wetness onto his cock before he prodded at your entrance.

"Fuck!" You gasped as he pushed himself into you. The thickness of his cock filled you completely, stretching out your cunt no matter how many times it had been there. His thumb moved to your clit and he began rubbing it gently, sending waves of tingles throughout your entire body.

Aegon moved his free hand to cup your breast as his pace increased slowly building up speed. You could hear his grunts filling the room, the sensation of you clenching around him overwhelming him. His thrusts became harder, his grunts turning into soft moans invading your ears. You choked out praises, “you feel so good h-husband.” 

He moved his hand to rub your clit faster.  An intense pressure building within you with every movement. His breathing grew heavy as his cock continuously hit your cervix, your cunt trying to squeeze out his seed. “Aeg- please I need you,” you whimpered desperately. Aegon dropped his head into the crook of your neck and sucked on your bare skin.

"Mmhmm." He groaned into your ear, his hips moving quicker, your hips bucking to meet his. Your cries turned into screams as he pounded into you, “fuck fuck fuck,” you panted beneath him. His fingers swirled around your clit, the coil in your stomach threatening to break any moment. “P-please cum in me,” you whined pathetically. 

His pace quickened, the muscles in his arms bulging with each pump. The sounds of him railing into your wetness echoed throughout the room. Aegon began singing barely audible praises into your ear. As he neared his climax he growled, his voice rising above the noise of your bodies colliding.

You clenched around his length, the overwhelming feeling of ecstasy taking over. Your body began to shake as your second climax washed over you more intense than before. “Gods,” he cried out. You felt his cock pulsating inside you, his hot seed spilling forth and coating your womb. He shoved his lips into yours, muffling the cry that escaped your lips as you reached your finish. 

His movements slowed, the sting of him stretching you out beginning to take over the pleasure. You winced as he pulled himself out from deep within you. You laid limp beside him panting heavily, his hands roaming freely over your naked form. You looked up into his eyes that still held the sadness of a beggar boy. “Do you love me?” 

You moved forward with the rest of your strength, cupping his cheeks gently. You peppered kisses on his face forcing a smile to escape his lips. “Stop it,” he nudged your head back with his own. Behind the obvious sadness it was clear to see he was holding back amusement. Your expression changed, the mood growing serious by the second. You leaned back staring deeply into his sea-like eyes with nothing but adoration. “Yes, I love you very much.”

[sugarushwriting]

fratboy heeseung part 3 and he redeemed himself with you…a little too well

nsfw

not proof read

reblog, like, comment

do not repost or translate please

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

heeseung couldn’t help but watch you as you slept. in his bed.

it was a first, but the smile never faded.

it was currently 3 in the afternoon and you were still sleeping, being worn out from…earlier activities with him.

after he helped you to the bathroom, he brought you back to bed giving you 3 more orgasms. 2 by his tongue and fingers, 1 by his dick.

you literally tapped out telling him he’s redeemed himself. rightfully so.

his response? “i haven’t even had you against the kitchen counter yet. or in the shower. or in my car. or—,” he listed on and you legit groaned in anticipation at having him in so many positions.

“i thought you didn’t do seconds? let alone, thirds, fourths,”

“it’s different with you.” he stated with a shrug but didn’t offer a why or how.

a little after the third (technically 6th) orgasm, and you falling right to sleep, heeseung called jay.

jay, sunghoon, sunoo and jungwon all were out eating.

“what should i do to help a girl after i made her not able to walk?”

jay started choking on his wine, sunoo patting his back. heeseung chuckled. the phone was passed to sunghoon as sunoo tried to help jay.

“where is she?” sunghoon asked

“asleep on my bed.” heeseung replied, and sunghoon was shocked but didn’t answer to it.

“warm bath, with epson salt. pain reliever. heating pad maybe.” sunghoon listed helpfully.

“where would i get epson salt and a heating pad?”

“jay uses epson salt his knee pain sometimes. i have a heating pad i use for my shoulder sometimes.”

after the call, heeseung did promise the guys it was safe to come home. before he went back to staring at you, your phone rang and he saw it was your roommate and answered.

“jinnie! i thought you were meeting me and soph for lunch?”

“hey lara, this is heeseung. um, eunjin is kind of sleeping right now,” his neck started to redden, “i, we, um,”

“i don’t need the details.” lara stopped him mid sentence. “do i need to come get her?”

“no she’s okay. i will make sure she calls or texts you when she wakes up.”

“thanks! take care of my girl.”

after that, heeseung went on a hunt in his roommates belongings to find the heating pad and epson salt. since he had the master suite, he had a separate shower and bath that would be perfect.

just as he was in the kitchen preparing some water for you, the door opened and jake and ni-ki walked in all sweaty.

“i’m sorry.” was the first thing heeseung said. “i apologized to eunjin, and we made up. she’s no longer mad at me. i will never talk to her or any other girl that way like that ever.”

ni-ki nodded with a smile.

jake pointed, “what’s with the ibuprofen, heating pad, and epson salt?”

heeseung’s neck started to redden with embarrassment again. jake noticed and his eyes went wide.

“you—eunjin,” jake chuckled, “so that’s how you both made up.”

ni-ki was lost. “huh?”

jake patted the youngest back. “why don’t we go back to your dorm and play some games with kai.”

jake led ni-ki out of the house, and heeseung took the stuff up to his room. you were still laid out on your back, and he smiled at how you were positioned like you were the outline of tape of a dead body. you were draped in just his shirt.

while you slept, he ran a hot bath, prepared the ibuprofen by the bed and laid out the heating pad.

he didn’t want to wake you, but he did need to make sure you were okay. just as he did that, the door to the house opened and closed and he heard the voices of sunghoon and jay.

“pretty, wake up.” heeseung shook you, and you slapped him away with a frown.

“give me a few hours before next round.” you mumbled.

heeseung laughed. “pretty, no worries, i prepared something else good for you.”

your eyes fluttered opened and met heeseung’s with a smile, then you frowned and sat up quickly.

“shit! what time is it?” you panicked looking at your phone. running a hand through your hair, you looked stressed, “dammit, i told lara i would meet her for lunch around 2!”

heeseung smiled at your panicked face at how cute you looked, “no worries pretty, i let lara know you were just a bit tired and would call her back.”

you smiled shyly. “thank you.” but then you got worried. you slept. you slept in lee heeseung’s bed. how was he not mad at you right now? or maybe he’s just being nice until he kicks you out?

“pretty,” he captured your attention, “i ran you a hot bath. sunghoon said it should help with your soreness.”

oh now you were embarrassed and your face went red as you put your face in your hands. great now sunghoon, and probably the rest of his friends know how much he wrecked you.

but then your heart fluttered hearing he ran you a bath. “i also got some pain meds and water for you.” he held two pain meds in one hand with a cup of water in the other and handed them to you. “i need to check on the water, i will be back.”

so you took the meds while he went to his en-suite and quickly sent a text to lara

you: i will tell u dets later!

lara: at least u r alive! if u need me to i will come get u <3

you were so thankful for lara. you peeped the heating pad that sat on heeseung’s desk. heeseung came out from the bathroom and helped you get out of bed.

“how’re you doing?”

“still barely able to walk.” you said. you literally felt like ariana grande’s song side to side except you couldn’t even walk side to side! how in the heck were you going to walk to classes next week?

heeseung pick you up with ease walking you to the bathroom. “mind if i help?”

“i don’t think i’ll be able to get in if you don’t.”

heeseung helped you with the shirt you had on, and then lifted you into the awaiting hot water, which felt so good on your body.

“fuck that feels good.” you moaned, unaware of how it affected heeseung as his dick twitched in his pants.

not now, he scolded himself. he had you wrapped around his finger, he has time with you.

“i’ll let you soak. call out if you need anything. i’ll leave the bathroom door cracked, but my bedroom door open.”

“i won’t drown.” you teased. heeseung dropped a kiss on the top of your head, and then headed downstairs to see his friends.

jay was putting away food he and sunghoon brought back from lunch. jake had joined them.

“when did you get back?” heeseung asked jake.

“while ni-ki and i were on his way to his dorm, we ran into the guys, so ni-ki just went on with sunoo and jungwon.”

“i brought back some food for you and eunjin.” jay said holding up some sandwiches and chips.

“she must be starving.” jake said with a smirk. “you know, from the intense workout you two had.”

heeseung smirked back. “and she agreed that i’m the only one she can have that intense workout with.” heeseung was proud how he got you to agree he was the only one allowed to make you feel that way.

he was the only one allowed to make you come. not jake, not jay, not sunghoon, but him.

jake pouted, “aww man!” he complained, his thick accent shining through. heeseung knew jake was joking, but also knew there was a slight chance jake was actually upset.

jay laughed, “how are you going to steal my wife? i thought she and i were ni-ki’s parents!”

as the boys talked on, you made your way quietly and slowly down the steps. the bath helped, but just a bit. you could walk, but not with big strides.

when you reached the living room, the floor creaked and all four boys turned to you. all with knowing smiles.

your body heated up with embarrassment. how much did they know?

heeseung smiled, but it quickly turned into a frown, going unnoticed to you. you had on your jeans and shirt that you came in with. why were you dressed?

“pretty, why are you dressed?” heeseung asked.

“well, i didn’t want to come down naked.” you replied.

“i wouldn’t have minded.” jake smiled and jay smacked the back of his head.

you blushed at jake’s comment. “jake don’t say things like that!”

“you could’ve put on a shirt and boxers of mine.” heeseung replied. “actually no, go put on some clothes of mine.”

“oh.” you twirled your fingers. “i also thought maybe, um, you wanted me to leave, soon?” you pointed to the door. “i can call a cab, or have lara come get me.”

“no.” heeseung said.

“no?” you questioned back.

“i can still see you’re limping and sore. you need more rest.” he said. he was not just going to kick you out.

typically he would with other girls. but that’s because he didn’t care for the other girls like that. he’s never wrecked them so bad that they couldn’t walk straight immediately after.

“oh, ok,” you said and added, “i can sleep—,”

“in my bed. with me.” heeseung finished. “now go change into some clothes of mine.”

you and heeseung stared eye to eye.

“eunjin, are you hungry? we brought back food for you and heeseung.” jay brought up breaking the tension. “go change and then come down and eat!”

you did just so. heeseung turned to glare at jake. “paws off pretty boy.”

jake laughed. “i think that’s up to eunjin herself, don’t you think?” he asked with a smirk.

“like i said, eunjin and i are already in agreement on that” heeseung said back.

jay and sunghoon did not want to be in the middle of this interaction. luckily you came back down sooner than expected in black boxers and a black oversized shirt of heeseung’s.

“perfect.” heeseung smiled and patted his leg. “come sit and eat.”

you winced. “heeseung,”

“i’ll be gentle.” he laughed and you sat carefully down on his lap.

“again, what the fuck did you do to her?” jake asked noticing the slight discomfort on your face.

“just embedded my teeth marks in her ass.”

again, jay choked on a bottle of beer he was drinking. “man i gotta stop drinking something around you when you talk!” he complained wiping his chin.

you were extremely embarrassed but had no energy to turn around and slap heeseung.

jay put some food in front of you and heeseung.

“pretty, remember how i cornered you in the bathroom at the party? and regretfully said that you just hooked up with me to get to the other 3 guys in front of us right now?”

this time it was your turn to choke on the sandwich. “how do you remember that? i thought you were too plastered!”

heeseung had all the boys attention now, “remember how you said if you wanted an in with my brothers that you wouldn’t have fucked me first?”

oh shit. you knew where this was going. “heeseung—,”

“who eunjin?”

“what?”

“which one of the guys here would you have fucked since i wasn’t your first pick?”

you shook your head, you didn’t want to answer but heeseung placed a hand on your thigh giving a squeeze.

“answer please.” heeseung demanded. he leaned into your ear, “or else.”

you wanted to bury yourself in a cave. “uh,”

“which one? it seems you thought of it before.” heeseung was becoming impatient.

“you won’t hurt any of our feelings sweets.” jake said from across from you.

“my feelings are already hurt.” heeseung pouted and turned your head so you looked him in the eye.

you sighed. “jay.”

all boys eyes went wide.

“jay?” heeseung asked quietly.

“boring jay?” sunghoon added.

“why him?” jake also added, basically all boys speaking over one another except jay himself. he was smiling and celebrating.

“finally, a woman chose me first!” jay hand pumped the air.

“calm down lover boy,” heeseung said and turned your chin once more to him, “now pretty, what did you promise me today?” he asked.

oh he had the biggest smirk on his face. “i—i,”

“i’m pretty sure you promised if you wanted—,”

“i promised that you were the only one to fuck me!” you quickly replied, your words jamming together.

you knew you had to say that because heeseung sure enough was going to repeat, every single word said in his bed.

“exactly. now boys, fuck off.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

after eating with the boys, you all gathered to watch a movie in the living room. you made sure to let lara know you more than likely wouldn’t be coming back to the dorms.

jay sat in one of the individual chairs, jake in the other. you actually witnessed jay telling jake to sit in the other chair so he would ‘behave.’

you sat near the end of one side, so you could lay your head comfortably on the arm of the couch. heeseung sat beside you, moving your legs so they were draped over his, and sunghoon sat at the other end of the couch.

everyone had separate blankets except you and heeseung shared one giant one.

sometime during the beginning of the movie, your eyelids felt heavy and you dozed off. heeseung’s fingertips ghosted against the skin of your thighs and legs.

“you sure did suck every bit of energy from her, huh?” jake laughed.

sunghoon and jay turned their heads to look at your sleeping figure, then looked at heeseung with a chuckled each.

“just made sure that my tongue and dick was the only one she ever thought of.” heeseung smiled.

“ok, so you ruined other guys for her, now what? did she ruin other girls for you?” jake stated. “heeseung, you don’t do seconds, so of course all of us are shocked. not only that, you let her stay over, in your bed, and letting her stay longer. i mean not that we don’t mind.”

“we just don’t want her to get hurt. she’s really important to ni-ki and became important to us so quickly.” jay added.

“you don’t do relationships, you’ve said it plenty of times. and eunjin isn’t someone to casually do anything.” sunghoon ended.

heeseung sighed as the guys were right. he did want to ruin other guys for you. mainly ruin any chance of his frat brothers getting their hands on you. he wanted to prove himself to you and himself in bed.

and he did.

so now what?

was he supposed to stop sleeping with other girls just because? he—he didn’t think he wanted that. could he be with you and you only? maybe. but he’s always said he didn’t want to be tied down to one girl in college.

“why did she even have a crush on me?” heeseung asked no one in particular. but he looked at jay, thinking maybe sunoo told him.

heeseung thought correctly as jay sighed.

“from what i was told by sunoo who was told by eunjin herself, it was freshman year.”

“huh? that long?” jake said in shock. heeseung and sunghoon were shocked themselves.

“probably saw how handsome i was and fell in love at first sight.” heeseung laughed but jay shook his head.

“actually no, she told sunoo when she first met you, she thought you reminded her of a hamster, or maybe it was a deer?”

jake and sunghoon started laughing.

“her crush didn’t evolve from your looks, it was how you treated people when no one else was looking. it started with her, she had dropped her books while walking in the rain because her bag had broke. she was having the worst day, you had saw her as she kneeled to the ground and yelled profanities to the sky. you gave her your back pack with no word at all and walked off.” jay spoke.

heeseung could barely remember that interaction. it was like, 2 years ago?

jay continued, “she saw you a week later at the library, and she wanted to approach you to thank you as she recognized you. but she didn’t because some girl had pulled you behind some books for a make out session.”

jay rolled his eyes. “she then learned about your reputation from some friends of hers. she said she started to observe you more often, becoming hyper aware of your presence on campus. she wasn’t noticing your frat boy and fuck boy behavior. it was the little nice things. like smiling at birds, complimenting a girl who had just been told by a group of guys she was unlikable, things like that.”

heeseung took in jay’s words. “apparently she has an old journal of observations she made about different people.”

“she did say she was good at observing people and had her own perceptions of us.” sunghoon said.

“well damn, what did she observe about me?” jake wondered.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the next time you awoke was back in heeseung’s bed with his arm draped across your stomach. you saw a clock on his nightstand. 3:43 am.

you’ve slept saturday away. could one man really take that much energy from you.

you stretched your limbs and realized the soreness has went away. now do you leave? pretend to stay sore? sneak out?

you turned to look at heeseung’s sleeping figure. you didn’t want to hurt him, but you also wanted to protect yourself from heartbreak.

you knew his reputation, you got yourself into this knowing the crush would always be one sided. the feelings would be one sided.

you leaned in and kissed his lips, letting it linger. when you pulled away, you found him staring at you with a smile.

“well hello.” he stated and whew his morning voice literally had you wet….already.

“didn’t mean to wake you.” you giggled.

heeseung pulled you closer to his body. “it’s fine if you always wake me up like that.”

your heart fluttered. he cannot say things like that. he just can’t.

“let’s go back to sleep.” he sighed and kissed your forehead.

the next time heeseung awoke 3 hours later, you weren’t beside him. he sat up quickly looking around his room.

the bathroom was empty. maybe you went downstairs?

he rolled over to check the time on his phone when he saw a text message from you.

eunjin: this isn’t goodbye, but see you later. i need to think, heeseung. but thank you.

here you go again with the damn thank you.

you were literally driving this man insane.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

[roadkillremi]

DuckTape 1

FP Jones X F!Reader

Masterlist

A/N : This was slightly rushed sorry.. but there's more to come!

Summary: After 5 or so years of dating FP you left due to his downfall. You told Jughead to call if he needed anything. And he called asking for your help with FP... (Reader is the age 25+) ((I might have messed with the plot line, I don't regret it))

Warnings : Mentions drinking, Mentions FPs "side hustles", Language, Angst.

One might had called it a cliche love story. FP fell in love with his neighbor at the trailer park. He'd watch her hang dry her clothes on Sunday mornings. He'd tell Jellybean to go over to get her attention. 5 year old Jellybean walked over pulling on your shirt going.

"My daddy thinks you're pretty.."

You'd blush and look down at the girl. You held her hand walking back to the trailer. FP answered the door with a smile.

"Sorry! Her mom lets her roam around the front yard at her house. And uh I guess she got out...".

"You sent me out here-" Jellybean whispered. FP just looked down and then back at you.

That was the beginning of the tragic love story of you and FP. He didn't make enough money to help out with jughead. You tried to help and eventually just moved in. Jughead became fond of your company. He liked your view on things and your stories. For once it seemed like the Jones had a legit family. But FP started having drinking problems and got in and out of jail. You told him you couldn't stay until he cleaned up his act. That was 8 months ago..

"My dad said he'll give your dad a second chance. But only if FP wants it." Archie looked at Jughead intensely. Jughead shook his head, "he won't listen to me...".

"What about Y/N?" Archie asked softly. Jughead stopped in his tracks and looked at Archie.

"Maybe.". Jughead moved to the side of the hallway. He dialed your number and tapped his foot waiting. Archie watched over his shoulder. Jughead brought the phone to his ear, "Y/N?".

"Hey, Jughead! What's up?". Jughead took a deep breath, "I need your help talking to dad.". It went silent, "About what?".

"Getting a job... Getting his life together. He's been a mess..since you left.". Jughead glanced up at Archie.

"Don't pull a god damn parent trap on me, Jughead." You softly warned. There was a soft laugh, "No. But I know he'll listen to you..".

"Okay. Only this time.".

"thank you..".

Which leads you here, waiting in your parked car in front of FPs trailer. Jughead went in to talk to him, he told you to give him five minutes. You sighed getting out of the car and walking to the door.

"Why not?! Maybe Y/N will come back.. and mom will let jellybean visit.."

It went silent. You knocked on the door putting your hands into your pockets. There was scrambling before FP opened and Jughead watched from the side.

"Y/N..." FP looked at you intensely. He studied you up and down, he moved to the side to let you in.

"Jughead you can go..." You say softly. Jughead nods and leaves slamming the door behind him.

"FP... This place is.. a wreck.." you looked around the living room. The trash and beer bottles flooded the ground. Dishes piled up on the counter, FP looked at you.

"Nice to see you too." He muttered. You sighed, "Jughead sent me. He uh.. wants me to convince you to get the job with Fred.".

"No." FP stared into your eyes and then went to get beer.

"FP. This isn't negotiable. Your son needs you! He can't couch surf!"

FP laughed taking a sip of his beer, "why do you care? You left.". You put your hand on your hip, "Because before... Before that night of fighting... I loved you. And we were happy."

"And broke-" FP fussed.

"All you care about is money!" You argued. You shook your head, "Just get the job. And sober up and.. we can talk about.. us." You stormed out the trailer towards your car. Jughead leaned against your car, "Did it work?".

"Give it an hour." You tried to smile.

You drove back to your apartment which was still south of Riverdale. You sighed as you entered the bare apartment. You dragged yourself to the shower hoping it would clear your mind. The hot water rolled down your body. You wanted to give him another chance. You sighed, grabbing your towel to dry yourself off. You walked into your bedroom and checked your phone. You received a message from Jughead. 'Hey. Dad got the job and we're going out to Pops. You're invited.'

You sighed contemplating your choices, you really did miss FP. You missed the two of you cuddled up on the couch. He'd stroke your hair gently and laugh loudly at the jokes in the movie.

'I'll see you there.'

You sat in the parking lot of Pops. Your heartbeat intensed as you looked at the Diner. You found the courage to go inside and look to find the Andrews and Jones. Jughead waved you over, you smiled waking over.

"Hey. I hope I'm not intruding.." you smile glancing at them.

"Of course not, Y/N!" Fred smiled. Jughead scooted over for you giving you a seat. You sat down in front of FP you looked at him before looking over.

"Wow Archie! You look so grown.. I haven't seen you since you were 13.. 14?". Archie smiled, "Thanks.".

"You're embarrassing him." Jughead joked. Fred cleared his throat, "how have you been, Y/N?".

"Uh.. good. I got an apartment. South of Riverdale..." You nodded, "I got a job at a mechanic shop.".

"wow that's great!" Fred smiled.

"Yeah. Real great" FP said looking at you. You glanced at him, "Well you already knew that.. didn't you, FP.". The two of you stared at each other for a moment.

"But jughead called me. He said he wanted me to give FP a talking to. Since he's stubborn as a bull." You smiled. Fred laughed, "You're telling me!".

"so uh, Jugs? Do you still write?" You looked over at him. FP leaned forward, "Yeah! You always were reading a book or typing away!".

"Like that time he took my laptop! He wrote tons of stories on it. And he felt so bad when I found out.".

"Yeah I remember that...". FP studies you.

"He writes for the school paper with Betty." Archie smiled slightly. FP leaned forward, "Betty?" he started tapping on the table.

"Whose Betty?" He asked, "your girlfriend?". Jughead went silent, you gently rubbed his back.

"Don't pry, FP.". Jughead cleared his throat, "Y/N do you still play the drums?". You looked down, "It's been a good while but yeah.".

"You know we have a drum set at our house.. why don't you guys come over for a jam session?" Archie asked. You looked up at FP, "Sure.. why not?". FP grinned, you looked down at the table.

"Y/N do you want anything?" Fred offered. You shook your head, "Oh, No.. I shouldn't-".

"Get her a banana milkshake and she'll be your best friend." FP teased.

"Banana milkshake?" Jughead asked looking at you. You sighed, "It's my favorite milkshake. When I was little on Fridays my mom would let me get a milkshake. But only if I got a decent grade in my test. And so banana is my favorite and i never tried any other flavor.".

"what a touching... Odd story" Jughead grinned.

"Hey, uh Pops?!" FP called. Pops looked up from the counter, "Can you get us a banana milkshake?". Pops nodded, you glared at FP.

"What was that?!" You fussed as you walked towards your car. FP followed you, "A peace offering.". You turned around, "A milkshake is a peace offering for putting a snake in my apartment?!". FP sighed, "I was drunk...".

"As always.." you muttered. He sighed, "I.. I'm driving to Archie's for that jam session. Do you need a ride?". You shook your head, "No.. I can drive myself..".

You all jammed out in Archie's garage. After FP put the guitar down, "You're way better than your dad, Archie.". FP then looked at you, "You were great as always, Y/N."

"Very sweet of you." You say looking at the drum sticks. Archie stood up, "No, you're really good! Do you think I can record you uh playing for some of my songs?". You shrugged, "Sure!". FP walked over to the cooler, "Does your dad keep beer in here?". You tensed up and looked up at Jughead.

"Uh, it's getting late dad.. don't you think?"

FP glanced at you, "Yeah probably.". You started to relax again, "Mr.Jones? What happened between you and my dad?". You glanced over at FP, Jughead whispered to Archie. You closed your eyes bracing yourself.

"Uh.. Me and your dad started Andrews construction. But he wouldn't say we were partners."

"here we go." You mumbled. FP glared at you, "We were broke and i needed some jobs. And those jobs got me in hot water.".

"FP." You warned. He kept complaining about his past, you put your face in your hands. You tried to tune him out but failed.

"FP! Stop!" You yelled. He looked over at you, "You have no one to blame but yourself.". FP took a sip of his flask as a response. You stood up, "Archie it's been great but I think we over stayed our welcome.". FP nods, "Agreed.".

You and Jughead carried him into the trailer. You both laid him down on the couch.

"I got it from here, Jugs." You smile. He nods before leaving, FP sat up lazily.

"Y/N..." You sat down on the edge of the couch. He drank himself to waste in the drive back to his trailer. You sighed and started to help him take off his shoes.

"FP.."

"I'm gonna fix it.... Us.. me.." he mumbled. You glanced at him, "Are you staying?... Please stay.". You sigh, "I don't know.".

"I'll sleep on the couch..". You looked at him, "Jellybean called me the other day..". He looked up at you, "what'd she say?".

"She uh... She misses our game nights.." you softly said. Tears built up in your eyes, "She.. said she wants us to get back together. So her mom will let her spend the night.". FP sat up a bit, "She says she misses our playlists in the car. And she still listens to Pink Floyd." You wiped your tears away. FP just stared at you, you sniffled softly.

"Remember how... You'd cheat in Monopoly?" You smiled. FP nodded, "Yeah..".

"It made Jughead so mad..." You laughed softly. FP smiled, "I.. I miss you..". You looked at him, "You're drunk.".

"I.." he sighed and leaned to the side on the couch.

"I really miss you... You made our family complete.." he dozed off. You stiffened, "our family.". You stood up, "Night FP.".

You left the trailer, Jughead stood by the trailer waiting. You glanced at him, "Good try. Not happening.". You walked towards your car, "Y/N.. I'm not saying what he did was right. But.. he said he's gonna try.".

"I told you no parent trap shit, Jughead.". You said unlocking your car door. Jughead stood there, "So you're leaving?! What about me?".

"Jughead.. I'm not your mom..." You softly say. He tensed up, "But you're the closest thing to a mom I have!". You glanced over, "Jughead.. FP.. he's a mess.".

"You think I don't know that!"

"I'll talk to him tomorrow when he's somehow sober." You sighed.

[sirfrogsworth]

Froglock Holmes, Internet Sleuth

I don't remember dates very well, but I believe sometime in the mid 2000s I had a friend drive me from St. Louis to Detroit. It was a very difficult journey. I have never done well as a car passenger and driving for an entire day was one of the more miserable experiences in my life.

But I got through it because I was *convinced* I was about to be cured. Back then it was the only thing I wished for and I was willing to try absolutely anything.

So we were off to see the Wizard about my wish.

During that time there were no doctors in St. Louis who knew anything about Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. But I found a website for a medical company that claimed if I saw one of their approved doctors, they could guarantee a 50% improvement. And when I did my pre-interview on the phone, that lady said some patients experienced a full recovery. To which I replied, "Yes, I will take one full recovery please."

But the closest approved specialist I could find was in Detroit and she would only treat me if I did my first consultation in person. She would then continue treating me over the phone.

My friend took three days off and she borrowed her parent's SUV so I would have leg room during the 8 hour trip. We loaded up on snacks and compact discs and began our road trip to wellness. We merged onto the Yellow Brick Road (a.k.a. I-70 East) and headed toward the land of Marshall Mathers.

The more I got car sick, the more I focused on asking the Wizard to grant my wish.

A new... mitochondria?

Plus several trillion.

A new several trillion little powerhouses.

This doctor was part of a national network of facilities that claimed they could effectively treat Fibromyalgia and CFS with a groundbreaking 6 step "holistic" approach. It was super holistic. Extra super duper holistic. The website made sure you knew it was holistic.

And those 6 steps sounded very fancy.

I mean, that all seems pretty legit. They were going to enhance my cells and address coagulation deficits. That's a thing, right?

Now I know that "holistic" is a buzzword that should be met with skepticism, but back then I was really hopeful they could help me. They enthusiastically made bold promises and filled me with such assured hope that I sold my car to help pay for everything.

We arrived in Detroit the evening before the appointment. I slept maybe an hour. Morning eventually arrived and we headed to the office. They gave me a clipboard full of paperwork that took forever to fill out.

"Can I please just see the Wizard and get my wish?"

I got to the exam room and they put me in a gown with the butt showing—which I don't think my friend was prepared for. I have a condition known as Hank Hill Butt and it can take a bit of getting used to upon first glance.

My poor friend refused to make eye contact while I was wearing it.

The doctor finally arrived and this supernatural healing wizard turned out to be a very short Greek lady. She asked dozens of questions—most of which I answered on the forms already. She poked my belly, checked my reflexes, and at no point did her examination require a gown with the butt showing.

She officially diagnosed me with severe Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and told me she was going to type up a custom treatment regimen and while she was doing that, I was going to get a special IV they designed to specifically combat CFS.

They took me to a room full of comfy reclining chairs and hooked me to an IV full of orange nonsense. Once that was done I met back up with the Wizard and she had created the afore-mentioned "customized" treatment regimen full of expensive supplements and vitamins that were not covered by insurance. Many of which I had to buy directly from the facility. As I looked over the treatment worksheet, I realized they gave the same document to all of the patients.

It was at this point, 560 miles away from my home, stuck in some office in the suburbs of Detroit (which will eventually be taken over by a tooth pulp dentist), with my Hank Hill butt hanging out...

I realized this could have been an email.

I decided to put everything on three different credit cards. Combined with the money from my car, I had about $20,000 to invest in fixing my broken body. My plan was to get all better so I could get a job and pay everything back. I even told the doctor this brilliant financial stratagem and she agreed it was a good plan. No notes.

Young Froggie was being hit in the face with red flag after red flag and Old Froggie is a little embarrassed about that.

I don't remember any of the supplements, but they had names like "EnergyMax Plus" and "Ultra MitoBooster 3000." They definitely sounded like legitimate, evidenced-backed medical supplements and not knockoff energy drinks endorsed by D-list Instagram influencers.

It wasn't all overpriced vitamins though. The doctor had some silly ideas that were actually covered by insurance. She said I should thin my blood so it took less energy to circulate. And I should boost my testosterone levels above the typical range to improve energy. So I had to inject myself with blood thinners and rub testosterone cream on my legs every day for months.

The blood thinners gave me tons of painful bruises at the injection sites and made me dizzy from time to time. The shots became so painful I would have to close my eyes and have my dad inject me. Otherwise I would chicken out. We kept running out of places that didn't have bruises so he would just pick the smallest bruise and stick the needle there.

And the testosterone cream had an interesting side effect that I am debating whether to talk about as I write this sentence.

Okay, I'm just going to tell you.

We are all adults here and we can handle adult conversations while remaining dignified and mature.

The testosterone cream gave me constant, spontaneous, hours-long boners.

I hadn't experienced anything like it since I was a teenager. No erotic inspiration required other than a gentle breeze. Only this time I didn't have a math book to hide behind.

None of it helped my fatigue.

In fact, the constant bonerpalooza was exhausting to deal with.

"Oh look, that actress I enjoy has a fully exposed ankle." "I bet that attractive lady has boobs under that heavy winter coat." "Hey, is it Wednesday?"

At some point it becomes a chore, ya know?

Thank god it was well before 2014, because if I had seen Chris Evans bicep curling a helicopter I probably would have needed hospitalization.

/end dignified adult conversation

After six months I had 0% of the promised 30-50% improvement 90% of the time and she kept saying I just needed to give it more time. She said it works quicker with the IVs full of orange nonsense. But they custom made those IVs and can only administer them in Detroit. She claimed the oral supplements were filled with the same nonsense, but took much longer to kick in. She told me I could be patient or drive to Detroit once a week for an IV treatment if I wanted faster results. If that were true, I feel like that should have been disclosed at the beginning. But I was assured I could get the same results without the IV treatments.

It didn't matter at that point. My credit cards were maxed out and I was out of money. I called the doctor and asked if there was any treatment she could recommend that was covered by my insurance. She got very quiet and awkwardly said she would try to figure something out. Roughly 30 minutes later I was emailed a coupon for $20 off our next phone consultation. I responded and told her I literally had no money left.

I never heard from her again.

The Wizard had no ability to grant my wish for several trillion properly functioning mitochondrias. She had no magic treatment. I finally saw her for what she truly was.

With perfect hindsight I could now see all of the red flags.

Though if I hadn't at least tried, I probably would have wondered and regretted it.

Hard to say.

I was kind of amazed how they built a country wide collection of clinics and they were able to operate for years solely on the placebo effect.

Years later I was curious what happened to this network of quackery. I found a news article saying it was all shut down due to fraud. I don't think they had a holistic approach to paying their taxes.

The reason I am telling this tale is because I have been playing detective and gathering evidence for my disability case. I started to wonder if maybe I could find my fraudulent Wizard to see if she had any kind of records or something that might help me. I knew it was a long shot, but I didn't want to leave a stone unturned.

At first all I could remember was her last name and that she was a D.O. and not an M.D. Standard Google searches were not turning up anything. I couldn't find her current practice nor any contact information. Apparently her Greek last name is a popular Arabic first name for men... so all my searches kept resulting in doctor dudes. This was not the time for a sausage fest and I was getting frustrated.

And then I finally remembered the name of the medical company.

Fibromyalgia & Fatigue Centers, Inc.

I even remembered their URL... fibroandfatigue.com

So I went to the Wayback Machine and I was able to find their now-defunct website. I suddenly remembered its cloudy banner image and "concerned_woman.png" like it was yesterday.

Why, yes... I am tired of being tired.

I also remembered their promise that over 90% of patients had at least a 30-50% improvement. Which was the claim that sent me down this rabbit hole to begin with all those years ago.

I started searching different versions of the site to see how their claims of effectiveness changed over time. At first they basically implied they made everyone completely better.

If I saw that I would definitely think I was getting a cure. But I imagine this caused some problems so they had to dial it back a bit.

I couldn't find the 90% version, but I did find the 30-50%.

This actually sounds like you have a 100% chance of a 30 to 50% improvement.

As I skipped around to the archived captures of different years, the promised percentage kept changing. I don't think they did an actual statistical analysis of their patients. I think they just picked a percentage that sounded enticing without promising too much. Just enough to be life-changing with a built-in excuse for when it all goes tits up.

Years after my experience, the site finally settled on a 65% improvement in energy levels. It was on their new page detailing how "affordable" their treatment was.

$20,000, you say? Balderdash, no one would spend that much.

If you were curious, they claim their treatment is now affordable due to a new monthly payment plan system. It did not become any cheaper.

However, under the 65% promise, they added this disclaimer with a large bold heading...

Success depends largely on your dedication and commitment. Our most successful patients are the ones who make the commitment to follow the treatment program rigorously. Patients who are aggressive and comply with the treatment process experience significantly better long-term results than those whose dedication is half-hearted and whose compliance is minimal.

In other words, "If our bullshit supplements don't work, it is YOUR fault."

Or in my case... "If you run out of money, it is YOUR fault."

Oh and there was also this...

Looking at all of the versions of the Fibro & Fatigue, Inc website was certainly fascinating, but I had to quit dicking clicking around and find my focus.

I still had detective-ing to do.

I was on the hunt for a Detroit-area Greek doctor of osteopathy.

There were ~250 captures of the site between 2004 and 2016. She wasn't listed in the newest captures, nor the oldest captures. So I kept trying to drill down to find the exact time period she worked at the company.

And then... EUREKA!

She was hiding in 2005 on their "Meet the Doctors" page.

Her first name was *drumroll* Sultana!

I can't imagine why I didn't remember that common first name.

Finally, after weeks of trying to figure this out, I now had enough information to do a proper Google search and discover what the heck she is currently up to. Probably putting people in open-butt gowns to check their tonsils or something.

*googling noises intensify*

I'm not sure I've ever come across such a literal dead end.

Should I be making puns about this?

I mean, she did help exploit me out of my entire life savings and put me in significant credit card debt with the Sex Panther-approved promise of a guaranteed 30-50% recovery 90% of the time.

And the institution she was a part of was shut down for fraud.

Still... I never wished an early death upon her.

I would have been happy with a trip to small claims court.

[huggybearluvr]

milestones | tz11

pairing:trevor zegras x drysdale!reader

summary: You and Trevor have been dating for almost 6 months now and have mostly been in the honey moon phase of your relationship. You have yet to get into any fights... until you go out to the bar with the team after their first win of the season.

Masterlist

You were stood beside trevor at the bar happily celebrating with the team. He was focused on his conversation with John Gibson. You tapped his shoulder to which he brushed you off with his hand.

You huffed walking to the bar to get yourself another drink. You then stayed there for a bit, not long after a large bearded man came over to you, "Hello there darling."

You simply waved to be nice before getting up to head back to the group. The man was quicker though, grabbing your arm.

"leaving so soon?" He asked with a a god awful smirk on his face.

You desperately tried to get Trevors attention but to no avail.

"I have a boyfriend," You said trying to free your arm from the mans grasp.

"Yeah, i've heard that one before, hasn't stopped me," He smirked even more.

"Let me go!" you argued. When the man only gripped your harm harder. You stepped closer to him, kneeing him in the groin. He quickly hunched over relieving your arm.

You went back to the group grabbing Trevors arm, "Trev!"

"what babe," He said annoyed.

You looked him dead in the eye about ready to slap the attitude out of him, "Can we please leave, that guy over there won't leave me alone and I feel so uncomfortable!"

"Maybe in an hour just stay over here," He said turning back to his conversation.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" You had raised your voice at this point. You angerly walked away. You spotted your brother at the bar getting a new drink.

"Jamie, will you please take me home," You said as your eyes began to slowly gaze over.

"Of course, what happened?" He asked as he led you over to the table to get your jackets.

"I don't wanna talk about it right now, please can I stay at your house tonight?"

He nodded taking your hand and leading you out of the bar.

Once you made it to Jamies apartment you explained what had happened to him.

"I swear, Trevor is a fucking idiot." Jamie said angered by his best friends actions towards you, "I'm gonna call him."

"Please don't Jaim," you looked at your older brother with pleading eyes.

"Alright, you sleep in my bed, I'll take the couch," he spoke softly.

"Thank you," You smiled hugging your brother before heading off to Jamies room.

-----

It had been about 2 hours before a wag mentioned your disappearance to Trevor.

"Hey, do you know where y/n is?" The wag asked Trevor.

"I don't know, she's around here somewhere." Trevor responded.

"We've all been looking for her, she's not here Z." The wag said in a serious tone this time.

"What do you mean she's not here." Trevor now began to worry.

He called you and texted you no answer.

He called Jamie and on the 5th ring it answered.

"What do you want Z?"

"Do you know where y/n is? No one has seen her."

"It took you two hours to realize I took her home? your an asshole Z you know that?"

"Why'd you take her home? Why is she at your place?"

"Are you that fucking clueless? She came to you with a legit problem and you ignored her, you ignored her the whole night."

"I didn't mean too" Trevor tried to defend himself but it was no help.

"Sure you did bud." and with that Jamie hung up.

Trevor quickly called and uber to head to Jamies and talk to you.

Once he arrived he knocked rapidly on the door til Jamie answered.

"She doesn't wanna talk to you." He said sternly.

"Please can I just see her?"

"It's okay Jaim." You said softly standing in the living room facing the door.

"Fine," Jamie rolled his eyes but followed your wishes letting Trevor in.

"I'll be in my room," Jamie said leaving to head to his room.

"baby, im so sorry, you know how I get after hockey games," Trevor argued.

"So your making excuses?"

"No forget I said that, Im so genuinly sorry I didnt listen when you told me about the guy, It was fucked."

He stepped closer to you, grabbing your hands, "Baby im sorry, please forgive me," He said looking at you with pleading eyes, "Let me take you back home."

You rolled your eyes before smiling, "Fine."

"thank god!" Trevor said before leaning down and kissing you. You pulled away smiling.

[starguardianniom]

Billy background

Ok so thanks to chapter 4 we got some background on Billy now and like I promised here are some of the many pictures I took about it, (it took me an hour just to get through it all because I legit took a picture of almost pratically all dialogue but I'll spare you all the details and just jump straight into it) and some more.

The Sons of Calydon just straight up trust Billy with their truck and their freaking bangboo for starters because he used to work for them, surprise surprise, we all thought so from the beginning and we were right. Still the fact that they are on good terms enough for that kind of job already warms my heart a lot you have no idea.

What fate are we talking about exactly? Why did you leave? You seemed pretty well liked, I don't get it. I need more information, you are being so vague about the details it drives me nuts, still love you though, but dang you will make me work to get your secrets won't you? Fine, that just makes you even more interesting in my eyes. ^^

Just like that Billy you just saved us a lot of trouble I feel. I bet Nicole was so relieved.

So you talked to Lucy then, must have been interesting.

Well, since you are the messenger it would be rude to decline their offer.

Wow, you really just follow orders to the tee and Nicole cares enough to actually be willing to let go of the case if we refuse, dang the honor code is strong with The Cunning Hares. ^^ Don't worry my dear I want Perlman in jail as much as you guys do so we'll go meet them~.

So you are doing a side job for a few days for them and Nicole is letting you, good for you my man. Wait does that means that Red Moccus actually is staying with you and the Cunning Hares for the next few days? Wild. I bet Amillion was thrilled.

Dang, I guess Nicole is mad that you let Perlman get away right under your nose, don't worry I'll make sure that we get him back so that you get paid. I do hope that Nicole would still actually pay you even if you did let him go considering the sole reason why she, Anby and Nekomata are still alive was because you were there to help Lycaon climb aboard to save everyone so I do hope she will go easy on you.

Sibling concern as usual, fortunatly~

No dice on what was my answer, right? ^^

My thoughts exactly, pretty nice to see that out of the Cunning Hares Billy seems to be the only one who could still go back to people and friends he knew if it came to that, even if he doesn't seem interested in going back for some reason.

Yeah, if you're friends with Billy that automatically makes you friends with the Sons of Calydon, hell yeah! They aren't even mad that they had to rescue us and that Billy left them all that time ago, this is how you leave groups people, on good terms, take notes y'all. Caesar is so wholesome.

On the other hand, why are these the only options available after this wholesome dialogue, hoyo do you want us to have a problem being friends with Billy despite me already having maxed his trust, or make us tsunderes? Stop making me insult my boy please!

That ain't convincing very much Belle but I feared the other possible answer too much so sorry about that Billy you are still my favorite character in the game and Hoyo will never make me dislike you, try all you want he's still gonna be in my heart forever.

That one question I've been waiting for is finally here!!!

This. I straight up swear, while the Cunning Hares are a found family, you don't see Nicole and Anby calling Billy "bro", the Sons on another hand do. I keep hearing Anby saying "I got you sis" refering to Nicole in battle, and telling Billy to get some repairs while she's switching with him.

I would like to highlight that Caesar is saying that even if Billy has left the gang for a while so I guess he still has the title even if he isn't with them anymore, guess that means that if he ever leaves the Cunning Hares he can just go back to the Sons and get back his title and nobody will protest.

So Billy had a pretty big job in the Sons, neat. With all the responsabilities and stress that comes with it. Interesting~

Lighter having Billy has a rival, he also calls Billy his predecessor, meaning Billy had the position first and then it went to Lighter I guess. Lighter saw Billy in action and found him worthy of being his rival. Also that last sentence makes me thinks that Lighter forgot that Billy was literally made for battle, he's an Intelligent Tactical Unit, a battle android, he was made to fight so of course his combat skills are something else. But I really am tempted to pull Lighter just to have a few more info on Billy, given he seems interested in a duel with him and admires him, it seems legit that he might talk about him in some of his trust events, I sure hope so at least, because I will be very disappointed with Hoyo otherwise.

Again Hoyo, stop dissing my boy when others are praising him, like I know we might be used to the goofy side of Billy but like we also go on commission with him and the Cunning Hares a lot so surely we would be used to seeing him in action by now shouldn't we and like we are proxies not fighters we legit have no room to talk Billy is the one going in the Hollows risking his life we just give him the directions and the exit but if Eous is damaged we'll be safe at home, while Billy won't, so can we just stop with dissing him already? Please and thank you.

Going by that comment I assume Billy used to behave a lot more differently in the Sons than how he is now, but it does beg the question of how much drastic the change was, I mean an entire freaking gang of thugs ran away from him when they recognized him, so he must have been pretty scary and intimidating back then, but now he seems to look back on that side of him with a bit of shame? Anyway seems like he's pretty happy with his life with the Cunning Hares according to Lighter, being his dream life, which again, good for him this is wholesome on so many levels. ^^

Finally done, this took a while. I got fed with Caesar and Lighter happily providing info on Billy, but I still need more!

Still it was all very interesting, I will stay on the lookout for more info on Billy, feel free to also come at me with what you find about him too, or just talk about him, or gush about him, or shoot me your headcanons too, I will talk about him forever. ^^

[spidernuggets]

I legit beg of thee please can you do prompt17. "Why the fuck did you have to make me fall in love with you" but like he's infected with some toxin from a mission and is genuinely angry at reader for making him fall in love with her, but like they're not together she's just his oblivious best friend and this is how you find out he's in love with you. I just find this hilarious cuz reader being overjoyed like oh shit he loves me but also like hey dude calm down lol Its also a tinge angsty cuz he's tiny self esteem thinks you could never love him back and thats why he's mad

Jason Todd x Reader

"Why the fuck did you have to make me fall in love with you"

You love Jason Todd. And for a long while, you believed it was a platonic type of friendship. Because you loved the way he laughed, his smile, his combat skills, his snarky remarks.

And then an oh shit hit you harder than a bomb. Not only did you love Jason Todd, but you were in love with him.

You joined the Titans a couple of months or so after he officially did. He offered you a brew the first time you met, and you politely declined but thanked him for the offer. This is where Jason immediately took interest in you.

When him, you, Rachel, and Gar were doing that blindfold sparring thay Dick recommended, he was even more intrigued at your skill level, but you weren't as skilled as he was, and ultimately lost the sparring match.

You were mesmerised by his advanced ability, asking him if he could teach you some tricks.

Boy, did this boost his ego.

And then the two of you became best friends. You guys trained together, played video games together, and listened to music together. Sometimes, he'd read lines from his favourite novels to you, ranting how dumb one character was or how stragetic another was.

Eventually, Jason took you to the school that he took refuge in during the time he was living on the streets. He told you his story before he got adopted, telling you his mom was a drug addict, his dad was abusive.

You listened, and you comforted him.

Then he told you how he admired the other kids for performing on stage. That's when he became so passionate for literature.

You joked with him, saying that you couldn't believe his biggest secret was being a theatre nerd. He quickly answered back that they were called 'thespians'.

That's probably the exact time you fell in love. Even after all the pain and neglet he's been put through, he still managed to become the strongest person you've ever met.

When you thanked him for showing you his school, that you appreciated how much he trusts you, you swore you saw a glimmer in his eye, even when he tells you it was no big deal.

Jason means so much to you. That's why you'd never tell him you love him. You think you'd break into a million shattered pieces if he left you because of your devoted but selfish feelings towards him. So you kept your feelings tucked away at the back of your heart, concealed from him.

Jason means so much to you that when he arrived back from what yoh heard was a dangerous mission, you instantly ran up to him, pulling him in a tight embrace, mumbling that you thought you lost him.

And it broke you when his response to your worry was a harsh shove.

He didn't say anything and walked straight to his room. He looked horrible. There was a bruise forming around his eye, dried blood under his nose, dark bags under his eyes and a busted lip.

You quickly turned to Dick, who just came in, confused at Jason's glum behaviour.

"Crane ambushed out of nowhere. Cooked up a new toxin. Anger. We gave Jason the antidote for fear toxin, but it doesn't do much. It should wear off after a couple of hours," Dick tries to assure you, but to no avail.

You pace around your room, biting your nails in worry. You look at the clock, and only 15 minutes have passed, and at this point, you feel like pulling your hair out from how stressed you were.

Jason slammed his door so hard when he went into his room that you felt like it could've broke.

Jason hasn't stepped a foot out in those past 15 minutes, and though you might think it hasn't even been that long yet, you couldn't help but stress and worry for your best friend.

So, you went out of your room, heading straight to his, knocking on the door waiting for an answer.

A depressed looking Jason opened the door slightly, and before you can say anything, he slams it shut.

You wanted to cry. He's never done this before. When he has issues, he always talks to you about them. You think that the anger toxin might've been the reason, but still. You aren't taking a toxin for bullshit, so you let yourself into his room, locking the door behind you to ensure no interruptions.

"Jason, what the hell happened? Talk to me!" You pleaded, trying to take both his hands in yours for comfort. In response, he swiftly pulls away from your touch.

"It's none of your goddamn business! Leave me the fuck alone," he says. He doesn't yell at you, but he sounds annoyed. He turns and walks towards his vinyls, pretending to sort them out, but just meaninglessly flipping through them.

"No, it is my goddamn business because you're my best friend! Why are you even pissed at me? It's not like you have a reason to!" you answer back.

"Says fucking who?" He spits as his voice slightly raises. You didn't want it to, but it slightly scares you. Jason has never acted like this towards you before. And if he is pissed at you for something, what was it?

Stealing the last pudding cup? Accidentally dropping his last beer? Winning the last sparring match against him?

"Okay, tough guy, what the fuck did I do to make you so pissed off!" You yelled back.

"For being so fucking annoying!"

What?

He thought you were annoying? Did he not like being friends with you? Did he regret being friends with you? You guess you are a bit too clongy at times. Or maybe you just talk too much.

Possible reasons start flooding your mind. The one person you loved and was your best friend was so angry at you because you were annoying.

"What?" Was all you can say, and it was heard as a tiny, pathetic squeak in your voice.

"You! You wanna know why I'm so angry?? Because you're so goddamn annoying! The way you smiled so brightly when you beat me in sparring, the way your nose scrunches up when you decipher a code wrong, the way you keep notes on everyone's birthdays on your calendar, the way you compliment me when I'm training you! All of it! It pisses me the fuck off!" He yells. You swear you can see tears at the brim of his eyes. "And the most annoying thing is how perfect you are! You- You're so beautiful and so skilled, and you deserve so much! And I can't give you what you deserve!"

But you stand confused. What the hell was he on about?

Jason rubs his forhead in frustration.

"Why the fuck did you have to make me fall in love with you," he says, way more quietly in contrast to his rant. But his voice breaks. And a single tear falls from his eye.

You couldn't believe what he had just told you. He loves you? He's... in love with you??

You were about to smile and admit your reciprocating feelings, but to Jason, your confused look on your face was disgust towards his undying emotions.

He wipes his cheek, face scrunching up, and his anger rises once more.

"No. No, no. I don't- I can't do this right now. You can kick me to the curb later, just- just get out!" He starts yelling again, stepping towards you, pointing to the door.

You attempt to calm him down, but he continues his string of get outs and leave me alones.

You didn't even notice that he unlocked the door and pushed you out before slamming the door in your face once more. You wanted to feel happy that he felt the same towards you. But he just looked so... hurt.

You decided you shouldn't continue to push. You knew he'd come talk to you later once he calmed down, so you go back into your room, waiting for his arrival.

It was late. Last time you checked your phone, it was 2:37am. You don't know how long it's been since then. Jason still hasn't come to see you.

You had your headphones on, writing notes in your journal for future training sessions and abstract plans for upcoming missions that may help Dick during debriefings.

You didn't hear the light knocks on your door, but saw a figure from your peripheral view walking towards you. When you look up, you see a dejected Jason Todd now in front of you.

He sits down on the edge of you bed as you quickly removed your headphones, storing away your jojrnal, ready to listen to him.

Jason couldn't look at you. "I'm sorry," he says. He thinks it's pathetic. Confessing his feelings because of some stupid toxin. Now he has to apologise, and he pressumes after this, you'd look at your friendship differently.

"It was selfish of me to tell you that I... That I lov-" He was quickly interrupted by you. You crawled along the bed to him, kneeling beside him, taking his chin to move his face so you can see those gorgeous green eyes you always adored. They were red and glassy. For the past few hours, he had been crying, even after the toxin had decreased. But you lay your lips ever so gently on his, and he couldn't believe what you were doing.

It took him a second to respond, but he happily kissed back, reaching forward, wanting more as you pulled away.

"You have no idea how much I love you, Jay," you say, barely above a whisper. His eyes widen.

"What? What, but I.." he sat there speechless. Was this real? Or was this the after effects of the toxin? "But.. But I've been dropping so many hints that I was so interested in you and... and you just seemed to have ignored it all," he quietly says. He thinks he whimpering like a kicked puppy.

"Literally, what hints?" You ask, dumbfounded.

"Are you serious? I've- I've called you babe multiple times, hinted at a date, gave you a flower," he lists the many times he had shown a liking to you. "I offered to teach you some combat skills- I keep those skills sacred, I've never taught anyone! Even Gar was yelling at me because I wouldn't teach him!" Jason says unbelievably.

Your hmfave heats up with embarrassment. "Well.. I never really said that observational skills were my strong suit," you weakly say, looking down, avoiding his gaze. And Jason couldn't helo but laugh a bit. He just found you so cute.

He takes hold of your waist, and you squeal as he shifts you so you're sitting on his lap.

"So.. You love me?" He asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "God, you and your ego," you mutter, holding his face in your hands as you and him share one last kiss for the night.

[fcthots]

HAIIIIII IT'S ME the one who requested the angry sex fic 🎶 and I LOVED it but I'm here with a new request about- *ahem ahem* drum roll pleaseeeee

-GUS THE CAT

Can you make a fic where the reader has never met Bruce YET(but he knows the reader of course OBVIE)and he's just visiting Jason at ya'll shared apartment and he's screaming at Gus saying ''TRAITOR,YEAH GO RUN TO YOUR MOTHER'' (the line's already in one of the fics that you wrote about Jason and Gus and I legit can not stop laughing at that line,it's my favourite) and like how would B react?

You can skip this,it kinda lame

-🎶

You also asked “Can I request the reader giving a bow to Gus one day to see how Jason'll react and they'll just keep dressing up Gus in different ways//how would Jason react?”

Jason didn’t think to tell you that his dad was coming over today. To be honest, he forgot that Bruce was coming. Bruce texted him a couple hours ago saying he was going to stop by to pick up some paperwork for a case. Normal things.

Jason walks in the house to see a large bow around Gus’s head, covering his ears. You were laying on the ground taking pictures.

“What are you doing?” Jason walked into your field of vision, waiting for an answer.

“He’s so handsome!” You couldn’t stop laughing… and maybe that why neither of you heard Bruce walk in. Bruce just watched the two of you staying silent, yet to notice him.

“Take that off.” Jason apparently did not find it as amusing as you.

Bruce flicked his eyes over to you when you spoke. “Why?”

“You’re torturing him!”

“He looks distinguished!”

“He looks miserable! Look at his sad little face!” Jason walked over to Gus and took the bow off while Gus hissed at him.

“HA. SEE? HE LIKES IT.”

“NUH UH-”

Finally Bruce cut in. “Ahem.”

You screamed, Gus ran, and Jason shot out in front of you before he realized who it was.

You flicked your eyes between them, still on the floor as Jason spoke. “Oh my God, Bruce! Fucking knock!”

“I’m sorry. I was unaware your partner was home-”

“You should still fucking knock,” Jason interrupted him.

Finally you got up and walked around Jason so you could hold out your hand for Bruce to shake. If anyone said you were bad at first impressions, they were a liar.

[joelmillergirl]

Ghost of My Past- Joel Miller

The one where Joel dies.

Word count: 1,136

Warnings: old man Joel, he's getting older and a little weaker, major character death, grief, sadness, angst, legit a snippet of fuff, just missing Joel Miller hours

Author's Note: Sad gurl hours

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Jackson used to be bright. A place where you could go out and just be you; never having to worry about what other people were thinking. When you had first arrived, all you could think about was what they were thinking. You were weak, years of fighting infected and humans had taken a toll on you, dirt under your nails and eyebags that didn't seem to fade.

The only person you trusted was Joel Miller.

He had approached you one day during an embarrassing anxiety attack; the sorrowful memories from your past seemingly catching you by surprise. You were hunched over, struggling to breathe when a warm hand suddenly rested on your shoulder, catching you by surprise.

"Try and take some deep breaths." He'd simply said, awkwardly looking down at the ground before meeting your eyes. Admittedly, the warmth from his hands, and the way he'd so softy spoken to you had soothed you instantly. "Are you... Okay?' He asked after a few moments, feeling your shoulders untensing from underneath his palm.

"Sorry." You whisper, shaking your head. "Don't know why that happened." It was insecurity laced between your words. Here you were in a sealed-off community with food, houses, clothes, and good people surrounding you, and you were still anxious about being raided in your sleep.

Joel stiffly took his hand back to his side, mumbling something under his breath, "S'okay. Happens to me too. 'M Joel." He greeted.

You offer up your name, thanking him before going your separate ways. The day after that, you'd knocked on his door, presenting a freshly baked pie to him; 'For helping me.' You clarified when he looked at you with a mix of amusement and confusion.

He was surprisingly very easy to love. He drove you up the walls with his teasing and his small remarks, but he was kind and he treated you better than anyone else had. It didn't take long for you two to start dating, a night together after a few drinks had changed everything, and when he saw you interacting with Ellie, teaching her and loving her- he was gone.

Your favourite time of the day was your nights with him. After a few games of Monopoly with Ellie with buttons and rocks replacing the missing pieces, you'd crawl into bed together, your head resting on his chest. You loved it when he talked, feeling the vibration through his chest when he did. He talked about anything; patrols, his worries about Ellie, Sarah. You listened to every word, asked him questions- some he didn't always answer- and in return, you'd offer your own stories, your own memories.

Joel was always there, everywhere you looked. When you step outside on the newly built porch he'd worked on because of the one time you'd complained about a loose plank, the house down the street he'd built a swing for because of the little boy who'd cried when the old one broke, the words people would speak after his name was brought up in a conversation.

"Hi, baby." He'd whisper in your ear, his chest to your back as you prepared breakfast. He'd stand behind you for a while, admittedly getting in your way but warming you up with his body heat. You held him through the nights he broke down, frustration over Ellie refusing to talk to him, anger over his own abilities slowly weakening with his old age, and sadness when memories of his daughter hit him out of the blue.

'Love you s'much. Don't know what I did to ever deserve this. Don't deserve it."

You had your moments together where he'd spend his nights on the couch whilst you slept in your bed, despite your insisting that you take the couch instead, knowing his back was getting bad. He never said anything cruel to you during these moments of frustration- never raised his voice. He talked it through with you, kissed you after and apologised.

You didn't deserve Joel Miller.

The morning of his death had started rough. After he crawled into bed next to you, breaking down in your arms after talking to you about a conversation he'd just had with Ellie, he turned his back to you and silently went to sleep, your shirt slightly damp from his tears. When you woke up and started breakfast, he was in a rush. He mumbled a goodbye as he walked past the kitchen, on his way to the front gate for his patrol.

"No kiss today, Miller?" You called after him, feeling slightly frustrated with his distant demeanour. It wasn't rare for him to dissociate after breaking down; you sensed it was embarrassment, he thought he was weak. He stopped walking instantly, coming back to the kitchen and leaning down to kiss you. At the last second, you'd moved your head slightly, his lips connecting to your cheek instead. "See you later."

You turned away from him then, listening to the sound of nothing as he stood still for a few seconds before he finally moved, the front door closing gently behind him. You sighed in frustration, knocking back the mug of coffee you'd made for him in his owl cup Ellie made for his birthday a few years back.

You kissed his cold lips later that day, saying goodbye to him one last time before turning away from him, everything aching. When you stepped up onto the porch, you broke down instantly. A plank had started to squeak, who would fix it now? You made it inside after a few minutes, averting your eyes away from the stupid owl mug, his stupid chair he always sat in.

The bed was cold when you got into it. Flashes of Joel's face. Cold. Stuffing your face into the pillow, you breathe in deeply, taking in his scent that still lingered. To think that only a few hours earlier you were in this very bed, warm and close to him. Breathing.

Gone was the presence of Joel Miller. His ghost lingered through everything you looked at, everything you smelt. As you stand amidst the echoes of memories, each corner of Jackson a haunting melody of what once was, tears blur the lines between the past and present. In the stillness and darkness of your grief, you found some solace in the fragments of his love displayed throughout your home.

And as you sit on the porch stairs with Ellie, after hours of begging her not to leave, not to go after whoever had brought such immense pain amongst Jackson's residencies, you could feel yourself embracing the ache of his absence, finding strength in the beauty of a powerful journey. Accepting that you may never be the same, but still allowing yourself to carry his memory with you.

No one deserved Joel Miller.

[solar-sunnyside-up]

I totally forgot about this until just now but over the summer I had wandered into a community event on my way home, and went to the public transit tent they had set up to promote the new project in the area and answer questions. I was looking for the Green party tent (all the other political parties where there, where the hell where they??)

But so I hang out at the tent, ask a few questions, show my excitement, etc.. and they have this "spin the wheel for a prize" game. Ranging from stickers to a bus pass. I was wanting a sticker bc the design was super cool and I'm a nerd. I wasn't optimistic enough to expect the bus pass.

>>I spin, I get the bus pass.

And the power I felt getting this prize?? I had already gotten my pass for the month. This was a spare one. The possibilities of who to give it to where endless and would legit alter someone I knew entire month.

>> Do I give it to the next person who asks me for change? Going from hoping tinget enough change to get enough for fare or something to eat and to be suddenly given this pass? The freedom from harassment of the transit police, the ability to get to all the free meal events that are all over the city but all are just awkward enough its an hour walk there. Actually get use the food bank and take more than a backpack or 2 of stuff for the month bc you have to carry it all yourself. To be able to visit a park, a library, To have the world open up without using all your energy getting there? How much would this bus pass alter their entire month? Who am I to now deny someone that freedom?

>>Do I give it as a gift to a coworker? Someone who doesn't go out or do anything other than work and rest at home bc it's too expensive for her to buy a pass bc she lives JUST close enough to work for walking to be a better option. Counting her bus tickets everytime she wants to go to the library, to see a friend/family member, to visit a park that's nearby, hang out downtown. Every outting you have to justify. Suddenly having just 1 month of freedom would help her mental health so much. She would have so much fun for the first time in ages! She could be a person in public, she could have fun without worry or need to justify. She's my friend. Who am I to not give it to her?

>>Do I sell it off to someone to get a grocery top up? To have a second of breathing room between paychecks? If I'm short on a bill this month I'll be kicking myself for not doing the survivalist thing to do.

It was a whole crisis.

In the end while I was having this crisis my roommate took it, so she could look for jobs and do a bunch of interviews without worrying about how to get there.

And it hits me as particularly horrific that so many ppls lives would be so positively altered by this single bus pass from a silly contest at a community event. How lucky was I to have this option? And alteranticely how so many ppls lives would open up and improve by simple access to a public service that they should have free access to not being held hostage by. And that's just the ppl I know who would benefit from monetary access to the system much less the good having physical accessibility added to it.

The for profit transit system is horrifying. This is meant to be a public feature, and yet the accessibility to actually use it is so limited. we deserve so much better.

[thinkeral]

Had to apply for a visa. The experience was atrocious. It took me an entire bloody hour to find the office, all THREE of the addresses listed online were wrong. Their answering machine told me they were on holiday and weren’t open. All I can think about was Kunikida trying to go through the same process

It’s a government website. They have funding. PLEASE IM BEGGING THEM TO GET THE INFO RIGHT. I’ve legit thought I wouldn’t encounter something worse than my university website. I was deeply, factually wrong.