#until she disappears again because it’s all a dream. FUCK OFF he has to do it all again?!!!!

[chryzuree]

okay, well, chrysijacks sleeping beauty au where the things jacks has to fight through to get to chrysi are her own nightmares. he shows up to where she is in her actual dreams and he’s annoyed by how fucked up her dreams are. he had to fight beasts he didn’t know could exist!! the fuck is wrong with you, chrysi?!

[fightmewiatch]

The emotion behind the way Edwin uses fuck is so heavy, because outside of the pilot episode and the scene on the stairs, he doesn't swear. He's a proper boy, repressed and focused and he bottles everything up.

In the Pilot, "The police don't know what to do with a fucking witch", he isn't swearing about the witch. He's angry, and he's upset, and he's frustrated. He's trying to focus on solving this case, saving the girl, doing the right thing, fixing things. Edwin spent seventy years in Hell, fighting for a way out (the detail in his journal, he didn't get out on the first try, he spent those 70s years trying over and over and over to find a way out - but that is a story for a whole other time), torture and pain and heartbreak, only to get out and fall into the school to find out no one cared that he died. "An act of God." The school wrote him off, everyone wrote it off and that was it, that was the end of it, no one cared that a 16 year old boy went to bed and was never seen or heard from again, poof, gone. He spent Charles' last moments with him to keep him company, and calm, and not scared, the two of them knowing what had happened only for the school to once again cover up the death of a 16 year old boy and pretend that whatever happened didn't. Edwin spent the next 30 years connecting with Charles, trying to help ghosts so they don't spend their entire afterlives in a state of absolute sorrow and heartbreak like has. We get such a bare taste of the ghosts they've saved and helped move on, who knows how much good they've truly done, how many they've saved from going to Hell on technicalities like Edwin had done. He's frustrated with Crystal, because he's spent 30 years working with Charles and only with Charles, he knows his friend, he knows how he behaves and how he works and how he acts, those two are connected on a level some people only dream about, and here she comes, she latches on, and she joins them to help but she's so hyper focused on herself and David (understandably so), that she isn't giving the same attention to the case that Edwin and Charles have always done, and he's angry, and he feels like it's going to happen to this girl, he is worried that her focus on David, is going to cause them to fail. Crystal has every right to be upset and scared and everything else that she is, but she doesn't consider, until that moment, that Edwin has a right to be upset about how it seems to be interfering with the case. The way that she reacts when he says "The police don't know what to do with a fucking witch," she realizes it then just how important this case is. Edwin was dragged to hell, the boys around him obliterated - leaving behind the idea that maybe he was, too - so to the school, maybe Edwin just disappeared, like Becky, like all the other little girls over the years in Port Townsend. Solving Becky's case is so damn important to Edwin that he is taking it personally. And while it's subtle, Charles reacts to him swearing, too, as though Edwin does not swear. And based on the rest of the season, it's clear he really doesn't. The way he swears in the pilot is from a place of complete and utter sorrow and anger.

In ep 7, it's different. He's spent the whole season struggling with who is he, trying to come to terms with a feeling he'd repressed for at least a century, and he's had to do it while dealing with the Cat King and Monty and watching Charles flirt with Crystal and struggle through his own rage, he's done it as quietly as he could, as if bringing it up out loud might ruin everything that he's worked so hard for. But now he's in Hell, again, now he's trying to get out, again. Edwin encountered the reason he was sent there in the first place, and found out what really happened. Edwin spent all those years thinking it was purely malice that got him sacrificed, only to find out it was just because Simon had a crush on him, and did an absurdly stupid thing thinking it was harmless. I think in that moment, Edwin realized how easy it is to misunderstand something - because clearly, Edwin had absolutely no idea that Simon liked him at all, until the moment he admitted it in Hell. And then Charles shows up. Charles came to save him, armed with a bomb, a Molotov cocktail, and Edwin's notebook with a map of hell on it. Charles came down, he listened to Edwin's directions, he ran behind him most of the time to make sure Edwin was going to get out. Charles was with him, saving him from one of the rooms, following him to the stairs and up. He stopped with him, even when they needed to keep going, Charles let him have a moment on the steps. Edwin is in shock, he cannot believe it. All these years, all these write offs, all these moments where Edwin genuinely didn't think he'd ever get out of Hell if he were to go back, believed that if they ever got caught by Death or anyone from the afterlife, he would be damned forever because who gives a shit about a technicality, who cares about the poor boy that was sacrificed and written off by the rest of the living. Edwin didn't know what else to do or say, the emotions he'd kept bottled up while he tried to figure them out were coming out one way or the other. "It's so fucking stupid, it's unbelievable." Edwin didn't think he deserved it, thought it was stupid to come down and save him, because who would do such a thing. Charles risked himself to come down to Hell to save Edwin. Edwin never thought he'd be worth it. And when Charles just shrugs it off a bit, reminds him that he was gonna do it, and he's so easy about it that Edwin just. Confesses. And corrects him, when Charles misunderstands for a second. Charles didn't think twice about "Great. Love you too. Can we go?" And he really didn't even hesitate to reassure Edwin when Edwin clarified what he meant, that they had forever to figure things out.

[evermoresversion]

hii i want to request a jj imagine. so the reader knows that jj is in love with kie. she sees it the way jj looks at kie, always laughs at her jokes and obv hits on her. and when john b and sarah are an nassau jj tries to hook up with the reader cause he’s rlly sad abt kie and pope yk. but reader rejects him. she tells him that she won’t fuck with him until kie likes him back. even though she rlly liked him. before walking off she says “one day she’s gonna see you the way i see you. just give kie some time to find the right glasses“ (yk everybody says you see the world with pink glasses when you’re in love) reader and jj stay rlly good friends and come closer than ever and poguelandia. poguelandia was the dream of both of them. then instead of kie the reader gets taken to kitty hawk. when jj saves her he finally tells her how she feels and says “kiara found the right glasses too late. i’ve put on other glasses“ the reader is rlly confused until he asks if she till has the same one on. and she is still in love with jj. then kiss scene yk. i hope you liek my idea!

THE RIGHT GLASSES, JJ MAYBANK.

A/N I really let my imagination run wild with this req. I'm very sorry for the delay.

PAIRING JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS Angsty at first, fluff at the end, suggestive content.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | JJ'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

You could tell you had always been in love with JJ.

From the first time you saw him playing in a park in the cut with a rock and he hit himself on the head with it.

Yeah, you were completely in love with him.

But you weren't blind, you had always noticed the way he saw Kiara and laughed at her jokes or protected her.

Sometimes you wished you were her.

"Hey what's up?" John B asked, sitting next to you at the bonfire at the Chateau and you shook your head looking at the liquid left in your glass.

"It's nothing." You denied, trying to make light of it, showing your friend a smile but he didn't believe you because he saw the way you saw JJ. He always noticed it.

"All right, bug." He gave your shoulder a friendly shook and stood up to walk over to Sarah where JJ then took his place.

"Do you want me to take you home now?"

You nodded goodbye to everyone and then found yourself behind on JJ's motorcycle.

When you both arrived he helped you down and there was a tense silence between the two of you.

"Well, I'll see you later." You said goodbye and walked towards the entrance of the house.

"Yeah, bye." He uttered awkwardly and got back on his motorcycle, leaving.

The next few months passed quietly without any drama except for the gold. In addition to the disappearance of Sarah and John B.

During that period of time Pope started some kind of situationship with Kiara and JJ was clearly affected.

While they were doing their thing, JJ tried to get closer to you to find some kind of distraction until one night he even tried to kiss you.

"No." You sighed, turning your face away from his, prompting him to sigh in frustration.

Despite all this time, you still liked JJ but you weren't going to let him use you while Kiara decided whether to be with him or not.

"I'm not going to fuck you or whatever just to be your distraction. No, I'm not going to do that." You shook your head with a wry smile, staring at your feet and playing with your hands.

"Forgive me."

You looked into his blue eyes that shone under the moonlight and saw adoration reflected in his eyes but not love towards you.

"I don't have anything to forgive you for."

You stood up from the log where you were both sitting and dusted off your clothes. Before leaving you looked at him.

"Someday she's gonna see you the way I see you." You shrugged your shoulders. "Just give Kie some time to find the right glasses."

After that you both didn't mention anything about it again but little by little both became even closer.

You were even the one who saved him when he almost drowned.

In Pogueland there was not a second that you both did not pass by with each other. You fished together, gathered whatever food you could together, everything.

"This is like a dream come true" you uttered as you were both staring at the stars lying on the ground. "Except I miss showers."

You both laughed and you felt his hand reach for yours.

"Yes, it's a dream come true."

You turned your face to look at him and found that he was already looking at you, making you smile.

The days passed and passed and neither of you worried about whether or not you were going to leave that island.

Until they finally got you out of there and it was no secret to anyone that you and JJ didn't want to leave, but you had to.

"I just got back, and you're trying to send me away again?" you said in disbelief, looking at your parents who had informed you that they were sending you to boarding school.

"Sweetheart, it's for your own good, you can't keep doing this kind of thing." Your father started.

"Those friends of yours are a bad influence."

You laughed, in disbelief, and when you tried to leave your mother interrupted you.

"You're going to do what we say, we're your parents."

"Yeah, whatever."

Of course the first place you went was to JJ's now empty house since Luke had gone to where JJ had always wanted to escape.

"No, they can't send you away."

You sighed, pacing the porch of the house.

"I don't want to get away from y'all."

JJ stood up from where he was standing and gently grabbed your face.

"It's not going to happen, as long as I'm here I'm going to stop them from taking you."

You hugged him tightly and felt his strong arms wrap around you as well.

Weeks passed and there was no sign that your parents were still pursuing the idea of taking you to Kitty Hawk, as the boarding school was called, but you still remained cautious.

The guys already had a plan to go to Orinoco to look for El Dorado and escape to South America. After a meeting at the dock, everyone spread out to go pack their things.

"Hey, y/n."

You stopped and looked at him with a kind smile.

You could feel Kiara's gaze on both of you but neither of you paid much attention to her.

"I needed to tell you something but I'd better tell you on the plane."

You nodded and left a kiss on his cheek and then went home.

Big mistake.

There was a van outside your house with the Kitty Hawk logo on it. You immediately felt your heart race at the thought that they were there to take you.

But before you could even think about running away, your parents had already seen you.

You tried to run away but when you turned around you collided with someone.

"Don't worry, we don't want to hurt you."

"No, mom!"

Your parents approached where you were and your mother looked at you.

"It's for your own good."

"Stop saying that! This is not for my good!" You exclaimed, trying to get out of the man's grip but they were already taking you to the truck.

"Sorry."

You heard her say to the distance with a broken voice and all you knew afterwards was that they were already taking you away from there.

Back with the boys, JJ was starting to get desperate because everyone was there except you.

"Where is she?"

John B looked at JJ, knowing that he would surely know.

"Her parents threatened to take her to boarding school weeks ago."

JJ without thinking twice turned to John B.

"Give me Twinkie's keys, I'll go get her."

"JJ, no."

"Dude, his parents already hate me."

John B hesitated but sighed relenting and offered him the keys.

"Thanks JB, give me an hour." JJ mentioned, running over to where Twinkie was, climbing through the window.

"One hour JJ!" Sarah exclaimed.

When the blonde arrived the only thing he found was your mother being hugged by your father, and then he guessed what was happening.

When he arrived, your father took it upon himself to tell him to leave.

"She's not here."

"Where is she?" JJ was starting to get desperate.

"We sent her to a place to recover what you guys destroyed."

"You sent her to that boarding school, didn't you?"

He didn't need a response to know, he just got back into the Twinkie and left.

On the way, JJ demired a plan to get you out of there.

When he arrived, he talked to the director of the place and somehow let you know that he was there.

At night you couldn't close your eyes until you heard a male voice murmuring.

“Have you seen a girl with...?”

“JJ?”

His gaze immediately shot at you, causing your breathing to get stuck in your lungs and your heart beating with speed when you saw him there.

“Pretty girl.”

You immediately ran to his arms and he greeted you with a hug so strong that he made the air leave your body but you didn't care, much less when you felt his nose sunk in your neck.

You separated from him when all the other girls started cheering, reminding you where you were.

“Shut up!”

JJ murmured screaming being pulled by the arm for you.

When both managed to leave the place safe and sound, you finally stopped to process what had happened.

“You came for me.”

You murmured, looking at him with attention and vulnerability reflected in your gaze.

He just took you by the cheeks, giving them soft caresses.

“I wasn't going to leave without you.”

You put your hand on his and leaned slightly towards him, seeing if that was also what he wanted.

And you knew it when his nose grazed yours.

“I think Kiara has some feelings for you.”

Despite your words, you didn't separate an inch from him.

“She found the right glasses too late, I've put on others. I just hope that person also continues to have those glasses on.”

He looked at you in a way that made you understand that you were the one who was talking about and indirectly asked if you were still in love with him.

And just to confirm it, you finally joined your lips to his, kissing him with everything you had kept all that time.

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2024.

[bitchlessdino]

Do it already (m)

Pairing: best friend's brother!Chan x afab!reader

Genre: smut, slice of life

Word count: 6.5k

tags: actor!chan, childhood friends!chan, possessive!chan, yearning!reader, plot rich, reader with tits, reader masturbation, kitchen counter sex, reference to drugs, oral (giving and receiving), mouth fucking, choking, spanking, pussy slapping, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink, unprotected sex. tender love and care

Summary: You and the Lee siblings were like three peas in a pod. That didn't last long when Chan went for his dream and left you and sister to yourselves. That was no problem since she was the best friend you could ever have. Now he's back, hot, fit, oozing sex appeal and you're wondering what it'll take for him to rail you like a train on tracks.

author note: this banner took 3 minutes to make. It's take a lot shorter if i didn't have so many spelling errors. point is this banner is the coolest bc i found a template already premade. it's been a while since i wrote a lengthy chan thing that wasn't just smut so, here you go. enjoy! and thank you to everyone that voted on the poll to make this happen. also, every thought the reader had been once my own, I overindulged once again

tag list: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han

You remember Chan eating dirt at the ripe age of 5. You were the cause of it. You thought it was funny to make a dirt and worms pie with real dirt and worms. You were right. He’s hated you since.

His sister, Chanmi, agreed with you. She thought you were really funny. Chan eventually got over the dirt pie, and found it incomplete without your presence. You became best friends after that and basically followed them everywhere. You always wanted siblings and since mom couldn’t afford to push out anymore, you settled on being fake siblings with the Lees.

Then Chan decided to pursue his dreams when he was 14. That was okay. You had more in common with Chanmi, anyway. His disappearance made you and Chanmi closer. She relied on you and you doted on her. It was a mutual symbiotic relationship. You couldn’t see a life without each other.

You ended up in the same college as well, living across the hall from each other in the same dormitory. Now you really couldn’t see a life without her. 

When it was time to graduate, you really worried you’d drift apart by now. When she reassured you wouldn’t, you trusted her word, as she trusted yours when you made that same commitment. It was time to commemorate it, so in came your joint graduation party. Your families and mutual friends had joined together and celebrated the end of an era. You would now go off into a world that you feared more than it would fear you. But you had Chanmi. You couldn’t imagine a better person to do it with.

Chan had hardly crossed your mind in all these years until the very moment he walked through your front door. You could hardly recognize him in the Armani blazer and dress shoes, but it was him. He had the same sharp yet attentive brown eyes since he was a teenager. He was simply all grown up now, as have you. Chan had come to visit a few times in the time he’s been gone but you only ever saw him a brief passing, caught up in your own life. 

Once our eyes have landed on him, it’s as if time has stopped. The acting school must’ve done this because his image seemed to be crafted in utter perfection. He was slightly taller than you remember, chiseled than you remember, and the least of all, more handsome than you remembered. You emphasize that you never saw Lee Chan attractive, not once, but here you were, devouring every detail of him.

He saunters over with flowers in his arms–noticeably two bouquets, one full of daisies and another with sunflowers–and stands before you and your best friend with a smile on his face. He congratulates Chanmi, handing her the bouquet of sunflowers and a hug, and within earshot saying how he knew she could do it.

Then came you. The expression on his face is something you’ve never seen him make. It bordered the line of surprised, startled, perhaps aroused, and you don’t know what to make of it. You clenched your legs anxiously before you pushed yourself up from your seat, seeing how much taller he really gotten since. It was funny since you had gotten used to being the taller one in your youth but it seems some of that has changed, along with everything about him.

“Congratulations, Y/n.” He hands you your daisies, unable to tear his gaze from you, fingers brushing against yours as he places them in your hands and electricity flows through you both.

“No hug,” you ask, trying it. His grin gets wider, arms now coming around you, and you feel his larger than life biceps close in a tight embrace. The scent that entered your personal circle now engulfed your senses, blackberries and cream. He smelled sweet, comforting, and if you help it, down right edible. 

You sigh, hugging closer, closing your eyes to fully appreciate his warmth and he spoke to a lethally soft tenor, “You’re looking good, Dirt cake. Welcome to adulthood.”

He felt strong and safe, yet left you breathless when he smoothed his hand over your back. You wonder how there can be so much tension in a seemingly platonic gesture. He makes you feel like the only other person to exist, but it ends when he pulls away, and his ghost lingers over your form.

The attention is all on him when his parents see Chan arrive, proud to have gotten the family back together again. Your parents greet him the same, having once known him to be a placeholder of a son they would’ve loved to have. Everyone is joyous.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him, the rest of the party or the rest of the night that matter, thinking only what he’d like underneath those clothes. As children, you’ve had your fair share of beach days, pool parties, joint family vacations to rented lake houses, but that was a time when Lee Chan wouldn’t even be considered in your dating pool. You were both children, almost like family at some point, and thinking of him in any manner besides that was icky. So, so icky.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t watch him tear off that blazer and put it away in a closet. His muscles ripple through his expensive dress shirt, sleeves pulled up to cut off at the elbows, revealing blue veins so thick and pulsing you imagine how they’d feel against your tongue at the sight of them. You lie in bed at the thought of them, overwhelmed at the pool it causes between your legs and goes to reclaim your arousal. Your digits languidly follow the trail of their escape and bite on your other pillow to muffle your ache.

Your head throws back into the duvet as you plunge two eager digits in your sopping core. The perfect arch you make goes unnoticed in your lonesome. You pleasure yourself in solitude, when in your mind one other person takes your fingers’ place.

“Cum all over me, sweet angel. I can feel you close.”

He had never uttered those words in his life, at least not you, but can hear them almost as clear as day.

Your hips slew in a circular type motion. Your moans get more curt as you bite hard into the cotton felt. Legs tense up, lifting off the bed, and hushed whimpers are all you communicate as you’re overcome with your release, taking the time for your legs to settle down. Your pulse would take a longer time to process your journey. Chan was still on your mind after all. Along with all the guilt built up from the considered betrayal you’ve made to his sister, your best friend, you were wondering if you could ever face her, or Chan, again.

“Oh my god, when was the last time we were out together like this?”

Chanmi’s enthusiasm combated your desire to hide away forever from guilt. You pick apart your burger, making sure there were no pickles as you’ve requested, and humming content as your message was received. “3-4 years. If you include that lunch, Chan took off in 10 minutes.”

The culprit chuckled, depositing a fry in his mouth. “I'm in high demand. You should be proud to be sitting so close to me.”

Chanmi snickers, shoving a nugget in his face, “Here, shove this in your pie hole.”

He happily accepts the excuse to shut up and enjoys it like it’s the most delicious thing on earth. “Yummy.”

You all laugh at his lighthearted nature and talk as if no time has passed. It’s familiar, warm, but jarring, because seeing you all united together proved that time came with age, and apparently for Chan, a new appreciation for a fully equipped gym.

He’s the same personality-wise, but you can’t help but focus on the physical. Looking at him while talking felt like he had been body swapped with some foreign adonis. You don’t forget the more stylish hair cut he sports, tapering slightly short at his sides and longer up top. He was becoming everything he meant to be.

“How’s shooting,” you curiously ask, “I’m sure it’s really exciting to be working on a bigger project like this.”

Chan took off the middle of your childhood to enroll in a boarding performing arts school. He wanted to pursue acting professionally one day, and he believed the networking and immersion of the curriculum would allow him to hone that skill. He made a pretty penny doing TV commercials in his attendance there, but his senior year he finally got cast in a small film. His mini break.

He played a minor role but got all the perks of a lead, besides the fame. He pushed himself hard to get recognized in his field of work. Corpses on criminal mind-esque shows, taking on five-minute extra characters, becoming a regular on a cable show with a beloved modest fandom, and finally now he’s done it. He was going to be a lead on an online streaming series that would be broadcasted internationally. Although, he hadn’t gotten the male love interest he strived for. He had claimed the role of the second love interest instead, and everyone always loved the second lead more than the first, he rationalized.

“It’s so exciting. Everyone is so talented and cool. I almost can't believe it.” He expresses with an excited glint in his eyes.

“It’s a big deal,” You cover his hand with yours, squeezing it affectionately. “You deserved this.”

You exchange proud smiles at each other. You wish you could feel the warmth from his lips as he lets out a quiet “thank you” as he places his over hand on top of yours. This feels too tender to be real, and you wonder how you could ever have noticed those creased smile eyes in the past.

The moment is interrupted when a text tone goes off and Chanmi claims it. “Oh, gotta go. I have a date.”

Chan rolled his eyes as his giddy sister hops out of her chair, releasing himself from your hands, and they suddenly drop cold. “Can't believe you planned a date in one of the few days I’m in town.” 

Chanmi lands a quick peck on your cheeks and sticks her tongue at brother in defiance, scurrying away in a quick farewell and she’s gone behind those double doors of the restaurant. This leaves you three: you, Chan, and the impending arousal that slicks your walls for being alone with him any longer than a second.

“It’s crazy isn’t it,” Chan breaks your silence, “you guys graduating, me being in a lead. It’s so wild how far we’ve come.”

You nod, “It really is. Everything’s different now.”

“Well, besides school, what else has happened? Now’s the time to catch up.”

You hummed, “where do I start?”

Let’s see where you could start.

The moment you walk right through that front door, I cannot stop thinking about your hands on my body how you would press me up against a wall and fuck me senseless, stupid, or just straight up use me until I can’t even remember my own name. It’s been only a few days since I last saw you, but every day since then I thought about you. I touch myself to the thought you. I wondered how you would say my name. I wonder if you would say my name at all. I even wondered what you would want me to call you, if that was even necessary. For you, I would lay my body with only the purpose of fulfilling every one of your desires. I’d have myself milk you until the end of our days.

You kept that to yourself. You were ashamed those words even ran through your mind in the brief moment it did, and you held your breath. “Well, since college is over, I can focus on the internship I got into. It’s a lot less intense than I’m expecting, just waiting for that adrenaline to pick up when it does.”

“You’re so grown up. I can believe I missed that.” There’s so much tenderness and fondness in his eyes.

I could say the exact same about you.

“So, Chanmi’s dating. You seeing anyone lately?”

If I was, they’d be gone the second I saw you.

“No, not really,” you respond, averting your gaze to your drink, “college guys kind of suck if I’m being honest.”

Humor is evident as Chan stifles a laugh, wiping away the reminder of his sandwich away from his face. “That I’ve heard of. Good. You deserve more than a guy just trying to get his dick wet.”

You halt, pleasure churning in your stomach at his vulgar language, hunching over the diner table in anguish. The pool of arousal spreads further. “That’s one way to put it. And you? Anyone caught your eye?”

Please say no. For the love of god and Buddha, say no.

“No luck on my end, either.”

Fuck yes.

“Oh, well, that sucks.”

“I have had a lot of work on my hands, so I don’t really fall into the practice of dating. I guess I’m just taking things as they come”

You nod, completely aligned with him. You didn’t see the point in dating apps if its purpose was only to put you out there in the world. You did plenty of that on your own. 

“And sex?” What are you doing?

He snorts, his pearly whites on display. “What about sex?”

Stop before you’re in too deep. “Are you having any?” For Christ's sake.

He bites his lip, amused, taking the last sip from his sprite before setting it aside. “At the moment, no. Why? Are you offering?”

YES.

“No,” you scratch your head, blinking in feign innocence, “just gathering intel to sell to paparazzi before you become a superstar and leave us.”

He crumbles up a napkin, a scrunched up smile on his face, before launching it at you, “You jerk. And no, I’m not fucking anyone.”

God, the way he cusses feels like drugs in my veins.

“Are you asking because you are,” he asks, “are you having sex with someone?”

There’s a sense of childish curiosity in his voice, like peers gossiping about the latest tea, but beneath it is something else. He circles his drink from his hands, eyes locked in place, mouth dropped in a way that screams ‘I dare you to answer’ and how his jaw tenses up after immediately asking, sets a fire into your inner thighs.

You let out a suffocated breath, pinching the skin of your thigh to snap you back into reality before the heat in his gaze singed your mouth shut. “Nope.”

He hums, relief grazing his harsh brows. “Not hung up on anyone?”

“No. Need an ex to be hung up with someone,” you quickly answer, before the bitter taste of regret stings your tongue.

“Interesting.”

You narrow at him. “What's so interesting about it?”

You want me. Just say it so I can lunge across this table to get to you.

“I haven’t seen you in years and you’re beautiful, smart, single. It doesn’t sound right.” He answers with a shrug.

Call me beautiful one more time. I will suck your dick right now under this table. I don’t care about being caught.

“There’s not really a reason, it’s just how it is. And maybe I’m not looking. Considered that?”

The only person I’m looking at is right in front of me—God, I can smell your cologne from here. Fuck. I want to devour you.

“Maybe, but me personally, I’d sweep you up before any guy could get the chance.” He chuckles.

Then do it. Stop teasing me.

“Chanmi would probably kill me tho. Probably say it’d ruin our dynamic.”

Oh shit. Here you were, lost in a head fogged up with lust and you hadn’t considered your best friends seeing you get shacked up with her brother. You were betraying her every second you though about her brother in a lewd sense. Although, she made no indication she’d be bothered by such a thing, but who wouldn’t? You weren’t going to let yourself off on a technicality.

“Don’t think we have much to worry about, though. I think we’ll be just fine.”

His words were like an anchor dropped in your gut. You didn’t know what was worse. Messing around with your best friend’s brother or the possibility of him rejecting the idea before it even started. You lose feelings in your legs, exhaling through your nose, and cry a little on the inside. You force an agreeing smile on your face. “Yeah. Chanmi doesn’t have to worry about anything.”

The meal comes to a close and you tell Chan you should get going home and he insists on driving. You were insane if you were going to spend another second in his presence, knowing fully well how he made you feel. He’s basically rejected you. It was over. Quit trying.

“Let me know if the AC is too cold. I can turn it down.”

You were that insane. 

“All good.”

You sit in silence. The radio envelopes the air and you interlock your hands in discomfort, while Chan focuses on the road. It's not a long drive from your place, but it sure felt like it was. But it gave you all the time to reflect. You needed some of that. Maybe you could get your common sense back.

Of course, Lee Chan wasn’t going to fall for you. Not like this. Maybe if you and his sister weren't attached at the hip, it’s possible. But then again, he would be living a life of fame, the spotlight, other people way hotter and more suitable for him. Face facts.

“So, since you haven’t dated anyone, I’m assuming you’re a virgin.”

Oh. He was going to keep going.

“Um, not quite,” you chuckle nervously.

He raises a brow. “So, you lied to me.”

You shake your head, “Of course not. I’m not having sex right now with anyone or a single person consistently, if that’s what you were saying, but I’ve had sex.”

“Did you?”

Something in his tone makes you want to turn your head to his side. You don’t regret your decision seeing the whites of his knuckles as he grips the wheel. His voice may have sounded friendly, but he held himself taut, visibly restraining himself.

Oh, Chan.

“Yeah. I didn't consider them exes, just flings,” you thought to add.

“Flings.” He repeats. 

You grin to yourself. “Yeah. I think a few times in high school and then a few more in college.”

“My, my. Aren’t you all grown up now?” You can almost hear him gritting his teeth, and you relished in it.

“Well, this is me.” You point at the building Chan forces himself to park at. He tightens his jaw in view, tapping the leather of the wheel in contemplation. Possibly at the revelation you’ve revealed to him. You lean in where your face comes into view, smiling an innocent smile. “Want to come in, Chan?”

You can see the dilemma in his eyes. There's a war going on his brain and either way, he was losing. Inevitably, he helps you unbuckle his seat before deciding to do the same thing to him. He plays your game with a humorless smile. “Why not?”

When you’re finally alone in the comfort of your home, it took everything in you to not jump him right then and there. His eyes scan over your living area, taking in the kick knacks, the tchotchkes you bought over time. It was as if he was rediscovering you, all of you, and for some reason, that made you more nervous than anything else. But that meant he was curious about you. He wanted to know more past what he saw as a child. He wanted to see you.

He snorts, crossing his arms, eyes finally landing on you. “I like your apartment. Am I the only guy you brought here you haven’t fucked?”

That could change.

You shrug, gallantly walking further and further away from him. “I don’t usually bring people over here. If I’m hooking up, it’s usually at their place.”

You let him watch. His eyes trained on your walk, a resisted urge tempted in every step you take. “You know that’s incredibly dangerous, right?”

“Anymore dangerous than letting them know where I live?” you retort.

He saunters over to you, side grinning in challenge. “Why are you trusting towards me?”

“Because,” you mimic his arms, “We have nothing to worry about. You said so.”

He glares down at you, taking one step closer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Whatever do you mean, friend?”

He cocks his head, “You’re really testing your luck aren’t you, Y/n?”

You shrug, an obvious grin on your face, “I’m not testing anything. Exactly what are you implying?”

“Don’t push me, Y/n. You don’t want to find out what happens.”

“That’s funny,” now you’re the one backing him in a corner, pushing him, showing him, knee his shins until his fingers grip back in the arm of a couch, saying words you only ever dared to think, “Maybe don’t be a coward and fuck me already.”

His breath noticeably hitches and drinks in your assertion and feeds you back tenfold, pushing himself off the couch and colliding your lips, and a shock of immense arousal takes over your body. Goosebumps pebble your skin and involuntarily you moan in the lip lock, taking you longer than necessary to realize that Chan has backed you against a wall.

Your hand crawls into his hair, pushing him down to deepen your kiss as his hard member prods at your stomach. Hands run down to catch him, his clothed cock in your hands, feel how the zipper of his pants constricts him from taking up any more space, and you help spring him free.

“All this fat cock all for me? Chan, you shouldn’t have,” you playfully comment.

“It's what you wanted, isn't it?” He thrusts up against you, hiking up your leg to dig into your already pulsing core. “You want me to want you. To fuck you? Is that it?”

“Yes.” You answer definitely. “I want you to want me so bad it hurts. Just as badly as I want you.”

“It’s not some addiction you have? Move on from one fuck thing to the next?” He questions, venom on his tongue. He speaks with doubt, but his body defies him, drawn to you like opposing ends of a magnet, in need of you as much as you were in need of him.

“I don’t say things I don't 100 percent mean, Chan. If I wanted to just fuck you, I’d do it already.” You squeeze around him slightly tighter, wrapping your fingers around strands of his hair harder, hearing that stuttering grunt of his to reveal itself. “There's fucking, and then there’s you, Chan. I  don’t just want to fuck you. I want to worship you.”

You catch a glimpse of his reaction to your startling response before lightly shove him off of you to get on your knees, scraping them against the textured wood. Lowering yourself gave a good view of the shift in his eyes, watching how they go from pure animosity to earth shattering enthrallment. Your hands come up to his hips, fingering from the waistband of his briefs and pulling it down with his pants, just to push it aside. His cock is big, hard, veiny, perfect to push down your throat. 

You wrap your fingers around his girth, fingers trailing over his veins, counting the estimated inches. Disappointment didn’t even cross your mind.

“You have such a pretty, pretty cock,” you gasp, “have you thought about it? My lips wrapped around your cock. I know I have.”

Chan’s bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth. His eyes dilate as your lips purse over the curve of his tip, kissing the slit. His mind then settles on your previous words, wondering what they entail. “Worship? With that kind of offer, I’d hate to refuse. What about you?”

“What about me?” His shaft hugs the curve of your cheek.

“If you’ll worship me, what’ll happen to you?”

Your smile stretches across your face before kissing his length between speeches. “Well, if you let me. I’ll be all yours. Your tits”—kiss—“ass,”—kiss—“your pussy,”—“your mouth. I’ll be all yours.”

Chan can’t help but smile with you. His hand finds a way to thread through your hair, getting a good angle tug, and ripping a flirtatious giggle from your lips. “I get all that? Deal of the century.”

You hum in agreement before you feel him hug the inside of your mouth, fluttering your eyes at his size. Your tongue runs along his skin, taking it calmly, slowly. You make sure you’re breathing from your nose, savoring every second. 

Chan breathes out controlled breaths, boring his lust driven gaze into your presence. His cock is more than pleased in your hot, wet mouth coating him in drool Your sweet, swollen lips were like the cherry on top of sundae. They were gloriously full and glossy getting him off. “Your lips are perfect around me. And this mouth is mine, you say?”

You nod as you bob down, not expecting him to thrust inside you, flinching against the wall. He puts either hand on either side of your head, holding you in place. Your eyes shut tight, feeling him twitching in your throat before pulling out. A ribbon of translucency stretches from your lips to his head.

“My pretty, little mouth.”

There is a darkness in which he stares at you, like releasing of pandora’s box. He was lost in power, greed, filth. Whatever it was, you were ready for more and you didn’t mind what it took. He pets your hair, dragging his fingers from root to tips, saying his scary final words before he fills your cheeks more with his cock. “Cherish that last breath. You’ll need it.”

Your head stays pinned to the wall, cock plunged in your mouth, the view of Chan’s unfailing erection and groin the only sight you’re able to take in this moment of suffocation. He wasn’t slow with it and he didn���t plan to be. Groaning, his hips push in your mouth, the back of your head hitting the wall behind you with every thrust, and the length flossing the pipe of your throat. You become a makeshift version of a glory hole. Your hands steady themselves on his hips until they are forced to pin above your head.

You wretch at his sheer force, but take every inch. Your tears burn your cheeks, feeling the tremble of your limbs. You cough, gag, swallowing him as you’re pushed past your normal limits and finally meet the base of his cock. He rams in you, lips to lap, mouth stretched and sore. Full didn’t even begin to describe how it felt for him to fuck your mouth like this. 

He shows mercy when he feels close, thrusting in all the way and holds in your mouth for an exact five seconds until he lets you go. Your saliva and his pre-cum dribble all over your chin and neck, but a dazed smile on your face despite the mess. A hand to your neck, he pulls you up from the ground, pressing you full bodily back in the wall. 

“Well, aren’t you a pretty fucking whore.” he hisses.

His hand invades the depths of your pants. Your sopping folds are easy to find as they coat his fingers like syrup, sweet and thick. “Pussy’s mine, hmm? Ass too?”

“Yes. yes, take all of me.” You impulsively part your legs, the gateway of your throat closing up as his grip gets tights. All the stars you were seeing shined brighter than the stars in the damn sky.

Chan tugs off your bottoms, throws it aside like garbage and lifts you on top of a kitchen counter. The cool marble stings your ass cheeks but you hardly notice as Chan nose deep in your pussy. His fingers dig deeper, tongue flicking starved at your entrance. “Sweet Jesus, you’re fucking wet. Fucking dripping down my arm.”

“I wasn’t lying to you, Chan.” Your leg hangs off his shoulder, feeling light as his tongue makes himself home in your warmth. “I want you, every part of you.”

They were more than enough words of encouragement as he’s lost in your thighs. The curve of his lips suck on your clit, eliciting a moan and would forever be ingrained to every wrinkle of his brain. His fingers–now down to his knuckles–traveling you at an unforgivable pace. He makes it known that he’d give you what you want, anything and everything in between, but he wouldn’t give you his patience.

His hand comes down at you hard on the center of your core, rubbing between every strike as he licks deep stripes, causing your whines of ache to grow louder. “More, Chan please. Touch my pussy more, like that.”

Your pain receptors could usually take so much pain, but with Chan, you’d sacrifice your nerves just to have him cum covering every inch of your body. 

Swiftly, he reveals his upper body. Taut, firm muscles, packed in every region. Gleaming with sweat, his honey glazed abs flexes from the tension in his stomach. God, it was better than you ever imagined.

You watch as his strong arms pull you closer in his mouth. He latches on you like a leech, draw circles, finger fucking you until you’re drawing out his name in short bursts. Your jaw drops slack, clenching around his tongue, and pressing himself against you until you’re close. Oh, so close.

He pulls off at the worst moment and before you could protest, you taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling him pull off your blouse in the process. Tits in either of his hands, he roughly squeezes them, pinching tight at your stiff peaks enough for you to let out high pitched screeches. “Chan hurts!”

“Good.” He takes one in his mouth, nibbling one in his teeth before pinching the other one just as hard as before. You’re stuck between pain and pleasure, but as liquid escapes past your legs and the victor is clear.

“My tits…taste so sweet…like honey.” he mumbles.

You feel loved, worshiped, wet. You were wrapped around his finger, and if you get to be soe lucky, he’d feel that same way about you. After he’s done swelling your skin, he’s escorting you to what clearly is your room despite the first time of him being there and he dumps you on the bed.

“Ass in front, right now.”

Promptly, you do as he says, getting on all fours on the bed, lifting your ass welcome for him to take.

“Spread wider. I want to see that pretty pussy.”

Your legs naturally part further, the pigment of your sensitive flesh clear on display. Chan takes initiative. Putting himself between your divide, his tongue finding that familiar sweetness he parted with only a few minutes ago. “You taste so fucking good. I forgot all about saying that while in there earlier. You seem to do that to me.”

His hands come over the flesh of your ass, the sting of his hand is momentary before his tongue’s presence takes over, tasting you, inhaling you delicious scent, “Condom?” He manages to breathe out.

You shake your head, perspiration trailing your forehead. “But I’m clean, and on the pill. Like I said, you can do anything with me.”

Chan is blown over with a sense of relief, fishing his erection before lining up at your slit. He takes full strokes inside you, achingly slow, and you quiver at the fullness but whine when you’re immediately empty. He does that repeatedly, giving you the sensation before he rips it from you in mere seconds.

Yo pound your frustrated fists in the mattress. “Chan give me your cock… I want you please..”

“Really, Is it me you want?” He teases, “Or it is my cock fucking so deep in your pussy you feel it in your mouth?”

Vivid images in your head, you shudder at the depth of his now husky voice, “I want that from you. Only you. Please, I want you to cum in me…”

“Shit.” Hearing that made close already. “F-fine. Just shut the fuck up.”

He thrust in you, finding a pace to reside in. His mouth makes an o-shape at the clench of your wall. “Fuck wet pussy,”—slap—“wet, tight. All for me.”

Chan recalling your moans laced with ecstasy. Hearing you, watching the recoil of your ass hitting his lap, it was something he could get used to, but he could try. He forces his knees on the bed, pushing deeper inside you. He finds your hair before pulling, pushing you into to the mattress and muffling your moans until they melt into an oblivion.

“That reminds me,” he thinks to bring up, not minding the fact you were drowning in the duvet, “what is it you like being called?”

You muffle a response but if you were being honest, you could hardly think with his weight pushed back into you.

“Come on. What is it? Pick your poison.” He slows his pace, a hard, deep stroke taken with every term of endearment, “Baby? Sweetheart? Angel?”

You moan, but not enough.

He blinks, thinking it’s going somewhere when a light bulb goes up in his head. “Mmh, let's try this then. Clench harder, slut.”

You moan even louder, immediately following his command. He then pounds harder in you, lacking any clear remorse as his language becomes grunts, calling you ‘slut’, ‘whore,’ ‘fuckhole,’ every name in the book until you buck at his hips.

Shake as hard as an earthquake, saying his name, speaking your orgasm into existence. It’s all you feel as your vision becomes further away from the comprehensive. You become a lifeless body that takes every second as if you never would again, collapsing on the bed. 

Chan, a man with solutions, flips you on your back. A leg of yours comes up on his chest, ankle over his shoulder and he bottoms out inside you, another tidal wave that jumpstart your adrenaline. “I’m not fucking done with you yet. You said you’d be mine and you will be for as long as I want.”

Your leg takes his side as he folds into you, lips messily meeting yours, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth, he takes you even deeper and your way to feel can't be described as anything else but bliss. You caress his face, while his hand reconnected with your neck. You’re trailing down to feel down his torso, the pads of his fingers pushing against the column of your neck tighter. Life leaving your body, you count each ab, cup each peck, palm over each stiff peak, and trace over each muscle. If you could leave earth by this method, you would. Your voice is raspy, but takes no break from praising him. 

“You’re fucking my pussy so good, feel so fucking good in my hands. Don’t. Fucking. Stop.”

“You like that,” kissing you in a curt repetitive action, sweeter than intended, “can you take…my…cum?”

“Yes,” you frantically nod, “cum in me. I want all your cum in me. Breed me please. I want you, only you, to fuck me, empty out in me, and repeat.”

His load is as warm as a home cooked meal, shooting in you, jerking into your body in a well-practiced motion. His body embraces you, closing in on you, while he tucks you in tight. You only remember the smile on his face when he cums. It looks like love in his eyes, warmth, and you are positive that that’s what it is because you're looking at him the same way. It feels like a perfect happy ending.

But nothing is over until Chan says it is over.

That day turned into night before you know it and all you’ve done is be in each other arms and fucking your shared cum back into places they belong. Despite the performance, Chan ended up being a gentleman, asking you where your spare clean towels were and helping you clean up the mess you’ve made. All the time and energy drained you both and with the lack of motivation to cook, you both called food to be delivered.

In an attempt to be presentable, you take the shirt he once wore and display it on yourself, his scent enveloping you like it were his embrace. That meant Chan had to walk around topless, and by George, that was quite the sight. You join him on the couch. His arm slings over your side, tenderly kissing your face as you feel up his body. You couldn’t help but grin like a love stricken puppy, memorizing every dent of every chiseled muscle, appreciating its entirety. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Chan hums, before muffling a thanks and taking your kiss-swollen lips in his. “I think you’re sexy.”

You giggle, reciprocating, already finding yourself straddling his lap, and that erection that’s already gone and inflated himself. This man had it all didn’t he?

Then it dawned on you. Maybe too late, but it did.

You part from him, eyes furrowed in worry.

Concern is written all over his face, and he curls your hair behind his ear, “what’s wrong?”

“What are we going to do about Chanmi?”

His expression soon matches yours as he sighs. His hand comes behind your head, kissing foreheads, and curls up in a reassuring smile. “I’m sure she’ll be happy for us.”

“And If she isn’t?”

His hands tighten on the fabric of the shirt. “She’ll just have to.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“And she’s my sister. And I’m her only brother. We are two people she cares about and we’re happy together. Why wouldn’t she be happy?”

Your lips curl up in a small smile. “We’re together?”

His smile reaches his eyes. “I don’t think I’d spend all day like this with you if we weren’t.”

You kiss him, chaste and slow, and letting go before the heat travels back to your head, fogging your rationale. “I like you a lot, Chan.”

“I like you a lot, Y/n.”

“What about your career?”

He rolls his eyes, filling rubbing circles in your hips. “Why? Scared this superstar will run away from you for his chance in the spotlight?”

You grin mischievously, “No, aren’t you worried I’ll outshine you on the red carpet? I’ll be your date for every one of them now.” 

“Then they’ll have no choice but to put me in everything under the sun.” He grins back.

[anders-hawke]

a lot of the frustration with part 2 seems to be coming from the fact that people are unwilling to view it as only a part of a whole story. Colin's sensitivity and self-worth issues didn't magically disappear once he admitted his feelings to Pen in the carriage. being with Pen is a dream come true and he's holding her up on this pedestal just as Pen had Colin on a pedestal until the end of season 2. finding out that she's Whistledown knocked her off that pedestal and allowed him to have the necessary character growth to realize that his worth as a person is not dependent on other people. he literally tells Pen that he thought he was the problem when really she has been the problem. and he is so blinded by his heartbreak that he can't understand that Pen being Whistledown is not her "true self" and the Pen he fell in love with and slept with and could be having a child with is not her "fake self" but that they are two halves of her whole self. he's put his entire being into this relationship in the hopes that taking care of Pen and ensuring her safety and happiness and impressing her and all of these unnecessary things would prove to be his purpose. and then he feels that all the things he's just committed himself to have been for a lie.

but Colin's anger isn't a stagnant thing, it evolves throughout the episodes. they argue outside Genevieve's and Colin learns that their relationship is not a lie. Pen loves him. she knows him better than anyone else. he still can't accept that Whistledown is part of her but he is assured that their love is real and that is why he's willing to have sex with her in that scene. because his need to be assured of her feelings has been fulfilled. people mistakenly think of that scene has being angry sex but it's not. Colin is not a man who fucks his way through his feelings. when he was having meaningless sex, that was pushing his feelings away, but he is not willing to do that with Pen. and he is also not willing to have sex with her when he is so conflicted over his role within their marriage. their wedding goes so well because Colin has been assured of Pen's love for him, so even though he's frustrated with her still, he sets that aside as he did the night before to just love her. and she hasn't been writing Whistledown so he feels that he can set it aside for now, and they can enter this marriage and he can convince her to leave the column behind. but then Pen tells him that she is not ashamed that Whistledown is part of her and he says he can't accept that and then, once again, he's unsure how to process his role in their relationship.

and because of that insecurity in his sense of self, he is not willing to have sex with her. he wants to, and he wants to kiss her, and love her, and laugh with her, etc. but he doesn't let himself do any of that because though giving in sounds nice, he is terrified of having no purpose in life, and he isn't willing to be with Pen unless he knows what his purpose is. and then he realizes that he's truly losing her, and he rereads her letters to realize that he always knew the whole of her, and she tells him again that he doesn't need to do anything to be worthy of love, and he realizes that even if his only purpose is simply to love Pen, then that is a fulfilling life to live. (it's not his only purpose, but that's besides the point.) just loving each other for who they are is enough.

[weebsinstash]

so the screenshots are kinda janky but I was rewatching the whole scene with Ozzie and Fizz's morning routine and I remembered there were those shots of like, the imp staff who work for Asmodeus and

is she helping do the laundry in platform thigh high boots, an apron, and a thong 😅 is that her UNIF0RM? Does she pick that out herself??? Is Lust just SO HORNY that it's totally normal that Ozzie's housekeeper is half-naked? Is he banging the housekeeper? Are Fizz and Ozzie exclusive or is it an open relationship? their other imp staff member was literally fully dressed so is this an optionally slutty, pro slut dress code idk

Like I'm sorry I'm just sitting here thinking of Reader who, Sinner or otherwise, is down in the Greed Ring as another performer for Mammon and Fizz is eventually like, "look, working this job is my dream, but it isn't yours. you shouldn't be attaching yourself to Mammon if all you need is a paycheck. I've got a... close friend who always needs extra hands; let me introduce you!!" and you have no idea that he's literally organizing a meeting with The Actually Fucking Cardinal Sin Of Lust until you're standing right in front of Asmodeus himself and he's just so goddamn CHARMING like he'd have me SWEATING AND GIGGLING I'd be straight up embarrassing myself like "o-oh that's not what I expected your voice to sound like hahaha 🥴"

Ozzie assures you the ultra sexy type uniforms are totally optional, and you could be bringing him papers in an oversized t-shirt and crocs and he'd still think you're as cute as can be. But. LORD if you ever decide, "I wanna feel sexy and confident and everyone else is having fun" and wear something sexy. It has him WEAK. Him? Them? Prolly both of them tbh. Like. Ugh I KNOW these two can go from having the freakiest loudest horniest sex imaginable to like giggling and tickling each other in bed and I can just SEE them being SO SOFT for a Reader darling. All your jokes make them laugh or affectionately roll their eyes. They DEVOUR your cooking (I think personal chef/PA Reader would be cute, the boys wake up and you have breakfast ready for them and everything), they're always sending you memes and things that made them think of you, they have a special group chat (of just them) SPECIFICALLY for sharing photos of you or things about you or just, talking about you period. Gosh. Would there be cameras suddenly installed where there wasn't previously just so they can see all the cute things you get up to when they're not around. All the little improv dances and songs... all the times you bend over...

Like the hilarity of Valentino getting absolutely fucking CUCKED when "his" Reader suddenly disappears, and it's because you can travel through the Rings and you work for Ozzie now and Valentino had no idea until he saw a trending photo of you and Ozzie where you guys did a HOT HOT photo shoot together to advertise something, where you're either almost completely naked OR actually ARE completely naked, and it's because Ozzie made you feel safe and protected and unlike Valentino, Asmodeus knows what an intimacy coordinator is-

You can actually go to clubs in those booty shorts with your ass hanging out and wearing whatever else makes you feel sexy and confident now because the second some creep is coming up to you and not taking 'no' for an answer, the creep suddenly has a massive looming shadow over them as an ancient demon turns to you and respectfully asks. "Is this guy bothering you queen?" and then steps on him. In a BAD way :)

GOD ALSO I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT THIA INTERACTION UNTIL I SAW THIS GIF AND. Asmodeus' VA previously described his type as "everyone" and he has a BBW on that fountain like 😩❤️ now I'm thinking of chubby reader who's gotten bullied and bodyshamed by Valentino (who is negging you and is actually down SO BAD) and then you run off to Ozzie who's like. "Baby you are GORGEOUS and if anyone ever says or does anything like that to you again, just let me know and I'll break their legs ok ^w^"

((Also. Non yandere related thing im seeing. He's one of the Cardinal Sins and imps are considered the lowest Hellborns and Ozzie not only has an imp lover but TONS of imp staff, like he is a pro body positivity anti racism fucking 👏 K I N G 👏 BANISHED FROM HEAVEN'S DISCORD SERVER FOR BEING TOO HORNY ON MAIN. i bet he would DESPISE that Heaven is discriminating and choosing who's hot, just, ugh i want him carnally (edit: i noticed they're actually all succubi/incubi and not imps but the point still stands lol))

[steddie-island]

Wiggly worm Wednesday🪱🖋️

I was tagged by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation and @whimsicalwadewinstonwilson

There are brain worms today but they're pretty angsty ones-- with a happy ending, because I can't let something just be angsty!

CW for recreational drug use, talk about addiction, mention of canon character death, PTSD

This is another long one, these get away from me somehow.

No pressure tagging @runninriot @stervrucht @rozzieroos and anyone else who wants to do this. 😌

I keep listening to My Fault by Shaboozey and seeing Eddie, rolling in the fame and glory he fought so hard for. He wonders why that doesn't fix him, wonders why he still has dreams about Chrissy Cunningham dying in front of him, why he still wakes up in a cold sweat with a mob hot on his heels.

Even having the love of his fucking life there doesn't make it all better, doesn't make it go away. Besides, Steve has his own shit, his own nightmares, his own trauma he's still trying to work through. Eddie refuses to be a burden.

So he turns to booze, and to drugs. He parties harder and harder, until he passes out hard enough that he doesn't dream (at least, he doesn't remember dreaming).

Steve knows something's changed. He's not an idiot, he's lived with Eddie for a few years now. He's seen enough rock stars on a downward trajectory, has had a few who crashed on their couch. Eddie's going down and he's going down hard, and Steve is fucking terrified.

He talks to Eddie, who insists he doesn't have a problem, he's fine, Steve's just being a worrier the way he always is. Eddie finally promises to slow down when Steve breaks down in front of him and literally begs.

And it's a promise Eddie means to keep, only slowing down means the dreams come back harder, stronger. So he doesn't slow down for long.

Steve tries to stick around and help him, but he can't handle seeing the way Eddie starts to look like a hollow shell of himself. He's still a livewire on-stage, but there's something more manic to it. The rest of the band notices it, too. Eddie tells them all to get off his dick when they try to have the same talk that Steve had with him.

Finally there's a breaking point. They're at an aftershow party. Someone flirts with Steve (something they're both used to because, fucking duh, Steve's hot). Only this time Eddie snaps, and he ends up breaking this poor asshole's nose, getting his own ass kicked a little, and he leaves in cuffs.

Steve leaves that night. Calls up Robin, who knows how worried he's been, and she and Vicki come help him pack his bags and come back to their little apartment to stay for a while.

Eddie's mugshot is all over the tabloids, followed by news of Corroded Coffin cutting their tour short, taking a break.

Then Eddie disappears from the public. It was one thing for the band to be as pissed as they were, but coming home to an empty apartment (not empty empty, but empty of the only thing he really gave a damn about besides Warlock) almost did him in.

So Eddie, for the first time since he left Hawkins, goes home to his uncle Wayne. Wayne helps him detox. And it's fucking hard. Eddie wants to give up, almost does a few times. Wayne catches him leaned over the bathroom counter and doesn't stop him, just says he hopes the hit is worth losing Steve forever.

Eddie hates him for a few days, but when the worst of it is finally over and Wayne brings him hot chocolate in a chipped Garfield mug, he instantly melts.

That isn't the end of it, though. There are meetings to go to. Apologies have to be made, and not just to the band and Steve. Eddie makes his way down the list, saving the most important person for last.

Finally he does show up at Steve's (Robin's) door, though. He thought about showing up with flowers and candy and the notebook full of songs he's written to try to show Steve just how sorry he is. He doesn't do any of that, he just apologizes. Asks Steve out for coffee.

They get to sit and talk, and it's like old times again. Steve's still cautious, but he has the man he fell in love with in front of him again. When Eddie drops him off at Robin's again it's with a kiss so gentle, so tender, it nearly makes Steve cry.

He moves back in a week later.

divider credit

[hairmetal666]

EDIT: ao3 should be back so you can read this now 😭😭

Robin rips the cream-colored polo out of Steve's hands. "Hey!" his surprise makes him shriek.

"Absolutely not." She jams the hanger back on the rack. "We're in a boutique in Paris. You are not buying a polo shirt here."

Steve pouts. "But it's my size."

"No. I'm putting my foot down." She stomps to get her point across. "C'mon, they have sunglasses in the back."

He leaves the shirt behind, allowing Robin to lead him towards the table of over-sized, dark-framed sunglasses.

She gets lost in trying them on, vamping in the little mirror, leaving him to card through a rack of silk scarves, until a case of vintage wrist watches by the register catches his eyes. He studies the them—Omega, Rolex, Cartier, Patek Philippe—bands of finely tooled leather and steel, inlaid with gold, silver, diamonds; things Steve could never afford for himself in a million years.

He's so lost in contemplating the fine jewelry and the state of his life, everything that will change once he gets home, that it takes him a second to register the increasing noise coming from outside. At first, it's excited voices exclaiming in rapid French, but it quickly becomes near-hysterical screaming.

Steve’s first impulse is to locate the danger, block Robin from whatever might be coming. Before he can move, though, the most beautiful man on the planet skids through the door, long, dark curls flowing behind him like they’re caught in their own breeze.

"Kiss me," the man says. His voice is deep and breathy, and he has the biggest, brownest eyes Steve has ever seen. He loses himself in them—they’re so dark he can see his reflection in their depths—and it takes too long for the words to register.

"What?" Steve mumbles.

This gorgeous guy—long limbed and slender, a cropped cut-off t-shirt showing acres of pale skin punctuated by dark swirls of tattoos—can’t have actually asked to kiss him. This is a lust-based hallucination, it has to be, because this guy has a belly-button ring and wears pants so tight they have to be cutting off his circulation.

"Kiss me. Please?" the man asks again. The shouting from outside is louder now, people are crying, and Steve is sure that, this time, there's a definite note of desperation to his words.

This is a dream, for sure. There’s no way this breathtaking man is actually asking Steve for a kiss. Even so, Steve hears himself agreeing in a voice that doesn't sound anything like his own. The guy—the impossible, beautiful guy—smiles all gentle and soft, cupping the back of Steve's head in his large hand.

He's kissed a lot of people in his life. Like a lot. But nothing like this, not ever. Their mouths slot together, and he's expecting it to be chaste, and it is, but. Something electrical fizzes in his blood, goes straight to his brain, because his mouth is pressing harder and the man moans, grips Steve closer, pulls him until they crash against a clothes rack.

It's wanting and hot, but their tongues barley brush together before the embrace is broken. Steve wants; it infuses his blood stream, becomes a delicious ache in his lower abdomen.

"Thanks, sweetheart," the man whispers, pupils blown and eyes glassy. He brushes his thumb along Steve's cheek, then spins on his heel, disappearing out the door.

Steve can’t move, doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe, mouth still hanging open in bemused shock. What the fuck.

"STEVE," Robin screams.

He jumps, the noise stark in the quiet store and the now ringing silence outside, whatever commotion from earlier gone as though it had never been.

"Robin, what?" He snaps.

"Do you know who that was??"

His face flames crimson. "Uh. Just some guy?"

"Steeeve, dingus, you're hopeless."

"Who was it, then?"

"Oh, only Eddie Munson? The Eddie Munson, Billboard number one for sixteen weeks? First album sold out at stores around the world? Didn't you wonder what all that screaming was about?"

"Oh my god,” Steve says. Hand going up to touch his kiss reddened lips. “Oh my god."

Read the rest on ao3!

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Don't You Forget About Me

Part One

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Description: Sometimes the most unlikely encounters with people have an immeasurable effect on your life. For Bradley Bradshaw, life at 22 right after graduating from college is far different than he ever thought it would be. It kind of seems like his whole life hasn't gone according to plan. No parents, no support system, just one man and his dad's old Bronco against the world. A chance meeting with a blond-haired teenage menace in Texas may just change everything, shaping his future in a way he never would have expected. Disclaimer: This is a Hangster story -> What you see is what you get, folks. Slight mention of homophobic/ lgbtq+ phobic family members. Word Count: 3624 Author's Note: Hiya! I wrote this fic for @roosterforme's Top Gun Rocktober Event based on the song Don't You Forget About Me by the Simple Minds. Everything about it just screamed Hangster when I listened to it again. As anybody who knows me or has read my works can surmise... I can be quite long-winded so what was supposed to be a quick blurb turned into a short two-part series. I hope you all love this fic! (Also I'm self conscious about this one because I do not write in first person. It's surprisingly hard so I'd love any feedback if you've got it!)

It's dark and smoky and loud in here and I can't believe that I let Jessica and David drag me to this party. They've long since disappeared into the crush and left me on the under-stuffed chintz armchair in some frat house’s living room. It doesn't help that I haven't been to Texas in years and I feel even more like I’m out of my depths because of it. My mom grew up here, and most of her family is still here. But she's not. In the years since I graduated from high school, I've turned hundreds of times, looking for her sweet smile, searching for her to take solace in. But she's not exactly on this mortal plane anymore. Neither of my parents are. And the closest thing I've ever had to a dad fucked off after destroying my dreams.

It fills me with an unreasonable rage every time I think about it. I know Virginia, I've lived in Virginia for years, putting myself through school in Charlottesville while working single-mindedly to get into the US Navy. I’m so close to flight school that I can taste it. I just need to get through Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island now that I’ve graduated. One final summer of building my savings by working odd jobs and I’d be free. Or so I thought.

Then, I received a notice telling me my apartment building needed to be tented for termites. My lease was only valid until I left for OCS, anyway. I debated living out of my dad's car, now mine, until I had to be in Rhode Island. That’s when I received a letter from Stephanie Williams, my mom’s cousin, inviting me to spend the summer in Texas. Driving to Texas is far from convenient, but I haven't spent any time around my family, no matter how distant they may be, in so long. And, I’m kind of homesick - homesick for the sense of camaraderie, of walking into the house after baseball practice or school and hearing anyone in the house besides myself.

Jessica and David, Stephanie’s kids, are as nice as their mom. They both attend the University of Texas, but it still feels like there is a distance between us. They can't understand the drive burning in me about the Navy, how I need to do well at OCS, how I need to become an aviator, how I need to be better than anyone else. Aunt Steph doesn't really get it either if the way she practically pushed me out the door when Jess and David mentioned the party is any indication.

It doesn't help that I'm only a week from reporting to OCS, either. I know it’s not flight school, not yet, but I know I need to study more than I need to be in this stupid little ramshackle frat house on Greek Row. The beer’s watered down and warm, tasting like piss in my mouth. Normally, I’d be right in the center of the makeshift dance floor grinding up against the scantily clad girls in sight, most of them wearing bikinis, but not tonight. 

I just want to go home again, but that’s not possible. It hasn't been for years. I leave the mostly full beer behind and search for Jess and David. There are hundreds of drunk kids in the house, and it doesn’t matter at all that I’m taller than most of them, not when people are dancing on the tables and licking alcohol off of each other. I feel like I’m suffocating. The entire house stinks of cigarette smoke, alcohol, and sweat. It takes fifteen minutes to look for either of them in the basement. When I’m halfway up the stairs, I’m tempted to leave them here and drive by in the morning to get them. But Aunt Steph would hate that.

The first floor is even worse than the basement. There may not be anybody dancing on the tables, but there is far more clothing being thrown about. It looks like there’s a drunken orgy happening in the living room on the floor. The carpet isn’t all that clean, to begin with, and add bodily fluids to it, and I nearly hurl on the spot. 

If this is what I’ve missed out on in the traditional college experience, well, I don’t want it, not at all. Thankfully, I don’t have to see either of my cousins naked and that eliminates the kitchen and living area entirely. All I have left are the bedrooms above. Just walking up the stairs, I can hear the creaking of bedsprings and lusty moans. It sounds like a contagious disease waiting to happen, and I don’t make it past the top step.

That’s it. I can’t search for Jess or David anymore and I fight my way to the front door while trying to ignore the tits that seem to get shoved into my face every few steps. As I open the door, a body slams right into me. It’s a kid, gangly and blond, knobby shoulders protruding sharply through the fabric of the worn t-shirt he’s wearing.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” I can’t help the chuckle pouring out of my mouth. I’ve got at least 8 inches in height on him and I could easily break him into two if I wanted to. He must be ninety pounds soaking wet and his indignation is about as intimidating as an angry chihuahua. But I’m not looking for a fight, so I just move out of the way. Something about his angry green eyes and how they glow in the fresh night air is oddly captivating. I’m honestly not expecting to see him again, but just as I reach the Bronco and open the door, I see the same person get bodily chucked out of the house.

He’s shouting expletives into the night air, and when his anger runs out, he hunches his shoulders and stomps in my direction. Of course, a snarl rips out of his mouth the moment he sees me.

“What, asshole? Haven’t you seen someone get kicked out of a party by a bunch of dicks before?” 

“I have, kid. But I wanted to know if you were okay. Your knuckles look rough.” It’s true. His knuckles are bloody and bruised like he’s been punching something hard with no control. Those are going to sting like a bitch in the morning.

He snorts and must see something unassuming in my face because he uncrosses his arms and says, “I’m not a kid, I'm seventeen.” He’s a little young to be running around the UT campus and getting thrown out of parties, but I have the feeling if I say anything, he’ll probably just jump down my throat again. “I’m Jake.”

“Bradley.” I grin back. “Get in.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but I don’t get into cars with strangers.” He’s quick-witted, that’s for sure.

“No.” If my eyes roll as I look at Jake, that’s just between him and me. He must feel like shit if he hasn’t called me out for it yet. “I have a first aid kit in the glove box. I wanted to look at your knuckles before they scab over.” Jake looks shocked. I can almost see the gears grinding in his head as he thinks my words over.

“Move over.” I have to hide my grin until he’s safely in the passenger seat. I don’t know why it feels like such a victory, having this stranger accept my help. I leave the door open and lean in. He smells coffee and spice with an undertone of musk, sitting in my passenger seat with his eyes looking far too green in the low light.

“You don’t go to UT, do you?” Instead of responding, I just pop open the glove compartment and tug out the med kit.

“So what is this, Bradley?” He sounds disgruntled. “No answers without you taking care of my hands?”

I just hold my hand out until he puts his into mine. It’s a long-fingered hand, thin and bony. No well-fed eighteen-year-old boy has hands that look like this. Hands that look like they’ve been working every day of their life. I want to know why Jake’s got such a big chip on his shoulder and why someone so young has hands that look so worn.

“I’m really alright, you know?” I’m as gentle as I can be, patting at scraped knuckles with an isopropyl alcohol soaked cotton ball. Jake may talk a big game, but he’s wincing with each word. 

“Who’d you punch to fuck up your knuckles so badly?” 

“My asshole ex-boyfriend. He was cheating on me with one of his teammates. And I just found out today.” Jake’s voice chokes on a sob, and I can’t help the twinge of sympathy that goes through me at his words. Maybe I’m too quiet, because there’s a sharp tug on my sleeve.

“D’you have a problem with that?” Jake’s glaring at me, and it takes me longer than it usually would for me to figure out why.

“About the fact that you had a boyfriend?” He nods, the movement jerky and sharp. “Why would I care about that? You love who you love, that’s it.”

He looks blown away by my immediate acceptance of who he is. But Jake seems uncomfortable at the same time, uncomfortable enough that he changes the subject. “You never answered me earlier. You don’t go to school at UT.”

“No, I don’t.” I collect the trash into a small ball and put the kit away again. It feels weird to stand out in the night and talk when I have a perfectly good driver’s seat right on the other side of the car. I can already see a hundred questions on the tip of Jake’s tongue, so I hold one hand up and point to the trash bin nearby. I can feel every bit of his gaze on my back as I lope to the can and back, opting this time to get into the driver’s seat. Of course, no sooner am I buckled in, Jake’s looking right at me.

“Why are you here, then? Why were you at that party tonight?” I can hear the naked curiosity in his tone.

“I’m staying with some of my mom’s family over the summer. A couple of my relatives go to UT for school and invited me to the party. I just graduated from college and I’m joining the Navy in a week.” It sounds so real as I say the words. They sound equally real, it looks like, to Jake.

“Why the Navy?" I haven't felt like I'm the focus of another person in a long time. I feel flayed open, horribly, uncomfortably, seen.

My voice is quiet, a little rough, a little raw as I say, "My dad was in the Navy."

"What did he do?" I blink a little, not expecting this question so soon. Normally people want to know why my dad was in the Navy, in the past tense. They want to know what happened to him. They never want to know what he did or anything else about him.

"He was a Naval Aviator, a Radar Intercept Officer, to be specific." It makes me smile, like always, remembering my dad.

"What does a Radar Intercept Whatsit do?" Jake's nearly open-mouthed in the passenger seat, body turned my way in a jumble of limbs that looks nearly too cramped to be comfortable, beat up sneakers on the floor and wholly fascinated by every word pouring out of my mouth. That's unique too. I've never felt this rush, this instant connection before with anybody. 

"A Radar Intercept Officer," I repeat, earning myself an eye roll, "is the person sitting behind the pilot. They're responsible for enabling communications with ships and other jets, navigating and monitoring the radar. Pilots fly the plane, but RIOs do everything else." 

"Sounds boring." I have to chuckle at that, because when he's not angrily grumbling, Jake's actually handsome. And that's not a realization I ever wanted to have about a seventeen-year-old I just met. Forget the place, there's the matter of how this is all the wrong time, too. I can't afford any distractions, not even cute little twinks with more attitude than sense. I'm joining the military for fuck's sake. Don't Ask, Don't Tell is still very strongly enforced and Jake seems like the type to bulldoze his way on base one day just for the hell of it. Better stick to talking about flying, that's all. And that’s if we manage to stay in touch until he’s actually legal, too.

"Do you want to become a RIO too?" His voice is hesitant as he sounds out the acronym.

"Nah, I've always wanted to become a pilot. Actually fly the planes, y'know?" I swear I can see literal fighter jets flying around Jake's head, he's so enraptured by the idea.

"Is it hard?" 

I have to shrug at that, because maybe I just have flying in my blood. "Not any harder than learning how to drive or ride a bike - at least that's what it was like for me."

I can see Jake think of a few hundred more questions, but stop him with one of my own. "What’s a seventeen year old doing at a UT frat party?" 

 His nose crinkles, "Who said I’m not a student at UT?"

"Nobody. But something about you tells me that you aren’t a UT Student, even though seventeen-year-olds join universities as freshmen all the time." I’m almost afraid to see that look on his face. But instead, Jake seems to be feeling the same awe that I was earlier - horribly, uncomfortably, seen.

“Nah. I work at one of the coffee shops on campus.” No wonder he smells like cinnamon and coffee.

"But you don't want to, do you?"

His nod is sheepishly affirmative. "My uncle says I should get out of the house and do something with myself over the summer. If he had his way, when I graduate in a year I’ll be doing the same thing. But I want to do something exciting, not farm work or work in a factory or hell, even be a barista anymore. I think the Navy might be just the thing."

I have to grin at his enthusiasm. But a part of me can’t help wondering if the reason why Jake is so interested in escaping Austin is because of something else. But I’m not quite sure how to broach the topic. It’s silent and still in the car for a little bit. Jake looks like he’s thinking of what to say, and I’m struck by the halo the streetlight we’re under makes around his hair. He’s pretty, indescribably so, even with a purplish bruise rising on his cheekbone. His long lashes shine golden against the freckles dotting his cheekbones. I reach for the polaroid I always keep in the car and snap a couple of quick pictures. I hand one to Jake, but just as he’s about to ask me why I did that, I see red and blue lights in the rear view mirror and hear sirens blaring our way.

“Shit! C’mon, Bradley! Drive the car!” It takes me a few seconds to process what he’s saying but when I do, I put the car in drive and drive sedately down the street. 

“What the fuck, Brad!” I haven’t heard anyone call me Brad in years. That’s what my mom called me, what Mav did too. “Drive a little bit faster, why don’t you?! You keep driving like a fucking turtle and the cops will catch us in no time flat!”

“I’m driving at the speed limit.” I chuckle at the way Jake grumbles under his breath. “The police won’t pull us over if we’re doing everything right. You probably don’t want them calling your folks to tell them you were at a party, underage where alcohol was being served and an orgy was happening on the living room floor, now do you?”

We’re thankfully able to leave the scene without any trouble, and I let Jake direct me through the late night Austin streets. It’s quiet, and in the half-light I can’t help noticing how incredibly small and delicate Jake is at this moment. He has me pull over a few blocks away.

“Do you make a habit of running from the cops?” He laughs at that, a genuine belly aching infectious cackle bursting out of his mouth.

“No, I don’t.” Something dark glows over his eyes just as easily as the laugh. “My uncle wouldn’t have been happy at all if he had gotten that call.”

I really don’t know what to say to that, so I just wait.

“My mom always says that she doesn’t know who my dad was, and well, I don’t know if you know much about conservative Texans, but that was a no-go for most of my family. She’s out of state, working in a library in North Carolina, I think? And I’m with my aunt and uncle until I turn 18.”   

“I’m sure the minute that happens, I’m going to get kicked out. They didn’t approve of me just because I was born out of wedlock. They hated me even more when they found out I wasn’t exactly only into girls. My mom doesn’t know how bad it is for me here. And I’m not going to tell her either. I just don't know what to do.” He sniffles, sitting in the passenger seat, cheeks pinking in the glow of the streetlights. “I don’t really know why I’m telling you this either. But it feels like the universe wanted us to meet tonight. It feels like I can trust you.”

I’m struck dumb by those words and the butterflies swarming in my stomach. I’m flattered by his trust. It has me spilling all of my biggest secrets. I tell him more about my dad, about mom, about Mav. I tell him about my biggest victories and darkest regrets. We talk for hours, taking turns baring our souls until the sky turns gray at the edges. It's the small hours of the morning, that small section of the twilight zone where everything feels extra still. My throat is scratchy and my eyes are dry. Jake’s not much better.

The sleepy drawl in his voice makes shivers trail up and down my spine and it’s still so foreign feeling like this for someone I’ve just met. It’s a little terrifying, too. Far too soon, we’re pulling up in front of the party house. 

"I should get going." A part of me wants to stop him, offer to give him a ride, anything to stay in his presence just a bit longer. But the more rational part, the one chanting US Navy and Top Gun is screaming just as vehemently no.

"Do you need a ride?" My voice is nearly too loud for this time of night.

"Nah, Bradley. I live right around the corner." Jake gives me a two-fingered salute and begins to walk away, his shoulders bowed and looking incredibly small. It's a surprise when he stops, turns back around and jogs back to the car. He flings the door open, and I'm surprised to see the two spots of pink high up on his cheeks.

"Can we stay in touch? I'd love to pick your brain about the Navy, sometime?"

I'm nodding before my common sense can speak, ignoring the insidious little voice that says, "No you won't ever see him again. You're joining the Navy."

I hand Jake a pen and a scrap of paper I found in my pockets. What I get back is his first name and a phone number. "This is my landline. See you around, Bradley?"

My reply is too quiet as I roll the syllables of his name over my tongue. By the time Jessica and David have staggered their way out to the car, I'm sure Jake was just a figment of my imagination. Two weeks later, when it's my first turn with the phones on base, I call that number. I get a message telling me that the phone number I'm calling has been disconnected. I never get rid of that note though. It's almost like something's screaming at me to remember Jake. Maybe one day I'll find him again. And who knows? Maybe he's a lot closer than I think he is.

Nine Years Later

It’s been a long road getting to Top Gun. Walking through the halls it feels like everything I’ve worked and struggled for has finally paid off. I’m a pilot, I’m talented, if I do say so myself, and there is nothing I want to do more than finally put the Bradshaw name on that trophy. Walking into the classroom that first morning, I feel like this is the start of something great. Until the first hop later that week. There’s a blond in class with an ego that cashes checks for money he doesn’t have. But he has the skill to back up his words.

“Rooster, Rooster, Rooster. Are you ever going to get off your perch?” Hangman. Even his callsign fills me with rage. I’ve never met a more annoying person in my life. But there is something about him which seems familiar. Why does Hangman of all people seem so familiar? It’s a puzzle I can’t devote any time to solving. Not when I have to knock a blond idiot down a few pegs. I wonder what the Jake I met all those years ago would think about Hangman. I hope he’s doing well, wherever he is.

Taglist:

@chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @mayhemmanaged @desert-fern @cassiemitchell @dakotakazansky @roosterforme @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @sarahsmi13s @horseshoegirl

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[jweekgoji]

Yandere!Five x Reader x Yandere!Lila (Ghostface AU)

a/n: happy Halloween btw, gonna do my request soon again.

warnings: dark/yandere content, mentions of killing people, some violence, no good ending for reader, Lila and Five is the best frenemies, my small headcanons about Lila&Five&The Comission, some threats, swearing, Lila is flirty, Five is the grumpy little old guy.

Lila and Five are already quite an interesting duo, but put these two together and add a little more craziness and these two will be the last ones you want to run into.

I mean, the two of them worked as assassins, they have a hell of a lot of experience in this, their childhood was fucking terrible and they also have superpowers?? what are you even supposed to do?

when they have to work together, they are very good. just think, Five can easily guess that Lila is hiding something, like being the reason why your recent boyfriend suddenly disappeared. would anyone else notice? I don’t think so. 

and there’s Lila. she’s annoying him and getting on Five’s nerves a little too much, Five already have to deal with another 6 mentally unstable adults that still acting like a kids and add to this all Lila? that always trying to strike him back because of their past? this man is done. 

Lila may try to make fun of Number Five all the time, but she’s not stupid. 5 is literally a legend for the entire Commission. Yes, he is the founder, but above all, he is one of the best assassins in the entire timeline, for everyone he should be an example of exactly how to do their job properly. Lila hates Five for killing her parents, and of course she spent a lot of time dreaming about how exactly she would get revenge on him. but if you plan to kill someone, then you need to know them better.

“Ha! I know it has to be you, little psycho,” Lila smirks proudly, her hands on her hips as she looks at him. “I mean, it`s easy to guess.”

Five rolls his eyes in annoyance, turning away from this crazy woman. “I’m glad you finally found the opportunity to show off your intellect, Lila,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But right now I’m busy if you didn`t notice.”

“Why won’t you just ask for help, huh?” she shrugs, sitting down on the dresser.

“What?” he frowns slightly, looking confused.

“Ask for help,” she says again. “Do you want me to spell that? A-s-k f-o-r h-”

“I don’t understand why would you even need to get into this mess and helping me.” he wipes sweat off his forehead, sighing softly when takes a quick look at her before going back to work.

She pauses for a moment, thinking about his words. Lila would never get into something like that for Five Hargreeves, no, never in her life. But she would never loose the opportunity to prove something to Number Five, who has so many fans inside the Commission that it’s makes Lila sick.

“So do you need my help or not?” now she is the one who sounds annoyed, but rather offended. “I won’t ask twice, jumpy guy.”

“You know what?” his gaze softens and he tosses towards Lila a sponge with a pair of rubber gloves. “You can actually be very helpful sometimes. Now come on, we don’t have much time until they come home.”

Lila catches everything quickly, smiling widely again, after which she jumps off the drawer and walks towards Five while wearing gloves. She accidentally step on a pool of blood on the floor, and her boots leaving several red dirty prints on a perfectly clean surface.

“Oops.”

“I just fucking ended cleaning here-”

They get along well with each other when it is good for both of them, but not when it comes to the fact that they have to share you. No, don’t even think that they will somehow find a way where they are not going to kill each other, as soon as one of them cross the line and decides to find their own separate way with you and only with you. If Lila will try to steal all your attention from Five - bad for her. If Five will try to do the same - bad for him. It also means problems and for you.

So basically we doing this cool “the one who makes the calls” and “the one who kills” trend. Well, if we going to compare Lila and Five with Billy and Stu there is no doubt that Lila will be as Stu and Five will be as Billy.

Lila can do both roles, not gonna lie, but she really loves those long and intimidating, somehow silly conversations with you while talking on the phone, her cute attempts to scare you, make you tremble and run around the house trying to close all the windows and doors, and it’s actually makes her laugh, especially knowing how useless it is , because come on, we all know that 5 can just teleport wherever he wants and Lila can just… do the same.

Lila sometimes forget that calling at your phone in the middle of the night is an attempt to make you afraid so you’ll be more pliable and when you’re on the verge of going crazy, because almost every day you hear two different types of voices that calls you, one of which threatens to make you suffer if you continue to ignore them, and the second flirts with you, only to say something weird and scary at the end.

You’ve been wearily watching some random horror movie on your TV screen. In fact, you had already lost the countdown a long time ago, you were tired and wanted to go to bed, your eyes were barely open, but part of your waking consciousness could distantly hear the lines from the movie.

An unexpected phone call makes you jump up and wake up immediately, picking up your phone, only to find out it was some unknown number. You decide to answer this call and put the phone to your ear, expecting to hear someone’s familiar voice, thinking that it could be your friends who wanted to prank you or one of your work colleagues but from a different phone number.

“Hello?” you speak uncertainly.

“Hello, who is this?” the voice asks.

“Who are you trying to reach?” you shift slightly in your seat, rubbing your eyes.

“I don’t think it matters now, doll,” the unknown chuckles softly. “You have a pretty cute voice by the way.”

You scoff at their comment, finding this amusing how they tried to flirt with you. “Uh, thanks. But I’m kinda busy with something right now like watching a movie.”

“Is that so?” the stranger pauses briefly before continuing to speak. “What kind of movie?”

You hum softly and tilt your head slightly towards the TV, trying to remember what you watched. “It’s Halloween, so I’m definitely watching scary one.”

You can hear the voice of an unknown person laughing softly at your sarcastic response.

“You’re must be really brave little one to watch this movies all alone at night, huh?” the person asks. “So what’s your favourite scary movie, pretty?”

You yawn in the first half of the person’s sentence and don’t really paid attention to their words, stretching slightly, trying wake up fully and concentrate on the dialogue again, taking the cassette, reading the title of the film. “Uh…Saw, I think?”

“Good choice, this one was so bloody,” you hear their cheering. “So, you have a boyfriend?”

A slight smile appears on your face and you rise from the couch, walking towards the kitchen, still holding the phone in your hands.

“No, I don’t have one,” you answer, playing with a strand of your hair. “Why, you wanna ask me on a date?”

“Maybe I want,” they say and you sighs softly at their attempts. “But you still didn’t told me your name, love.”

“Why do you need to know my name?” you ask nonchalantly as you pop a bag of popcorn into the microwave.

“Because I want to know at who I’m looking right now.”

You freeze in place. It could have been a simple prank in an attempt to make you scared, but still, it really worked on you. “What did you say?”

“I said that I really want to know with who I’m talking-”

Lila doesn’t have time to finish and you immediately end the phone call, which makes her almost break the device she is holding in her hands.

“Damnit!” she swears, sighing loudly in displeasure. “This time was so damn close!”

Lila’s complaints makes Five smile smugly to himself and that only irritates her more. Five leans against the wall with his shoulder as if he was already know how this would end up.

“Don’t smile like that, you little shit,” she grumbles, trying to call you again and again, but you seem to just ignore her attempts.

“Congratulations, Lila,” he shrugs carelessly. “You screwed up again.”

Five will at first be someone you hardly notice when he does his job. Some idiot bothers you? Disappeared. Are you bullied at school? They are all gone. Is someone too close to you and you show genuine interest in them? I’m sorry, but they won’t call you back after the date. Don’t worry, you can cry in the shoulder to your best friends like Lila or Five who will be always here for you. Huh, what a coincidence…

I think Lila will often act as the one to make the calls, as she seems to be the only one who is successful in this and can hold a dialogue with you for more than a couple of minutes. Unlike Number Five. But he really wants to try talking to you. He craves it and he wants to prove that he can make the calls just as well as the dirty work like killing. He would use this as opportunity to tell you everything that he wouldn’t tell you if he was in front of you right now and you would know the real identity of the person who is always calling you so late. But he really just melts because of your sweet voice and he can listen to it for hours while you tell him about your day or plans for the future, Five is a serious and professional man who does his job perfectly. He knows that he has his own work and it needs to be done even though he really wants to forget it all and rest for some time.

“Stop calling me, you weirdo,” you say tiredly.

“Don’t even dare to hang up on me,” 5 warns you, but you immediately end the call despite his words.

As soon as you end up the call, Five, on the other side, closes his eyes and sighs, trying to calm down, them he calls you again. You barely had time to go to bed when you heard the melody of your phone and you had to pick up the device again. You really wanted like to yell at the person who was bothering you, but you are immediately interrupted.

“No, you listen here. Hang up on me and I’ll gut you like a fish, do you understand me?” he threatens you and the tone of his voice makes you tremble. “Now, do you think you can handle that for me, dear?”

I don`t think that any of them would go to kill some person in front of you. Firstly, they don’t want to hurt you, they go too far just by harassing you with calls, but it’s more of a warning, like “don’t go with that guy because he’s not good enough for you” or “you should stay at home tonight and don’t go to that party”. Yes, Ghostface most often calls victims to scare them and then kill them, but they will never touch you. And I also don’t think that they will harm any of your family or just your friends, only those who can potentially / already harm you, otherwise they warn you about it. You really should listen to those scary people that call you or be more attentive when you look out the window and notice a mysterious figure in a black costume in your backyard with those silly scream mask. you have two pairs of eyes that follow you everywhere and they can clearly see more than you so keep it in mind. but yeah, I think Lila sometimes really can just make some calls to you just for fun so Five need to bonk her time to time to remind her job.

[berrypass-de-murdler]

51. The Grave Death at the Graveyard

With that, season three begins

Introducing motives allows me to write quite a bit more for the episodes, so they're longer, yayy!!! (or not yay if you don't want that-)

Lady Violet is complete, and while I'm not in love with the design, she did turn out a heck of a lot better than the original idea I had! Hoping she'll look better digitized :3

And Logico, I swear to fuck you better not start singing.

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

The most somber music begins to play as Logico walks slowly amongst the crying clouds. 

I should have let you win at the party. Let you down and down again, in front of everybody Beat you every fight, fought you every time I didn’t bother looking deep into my own crime… I didn’t care about their words until you did… I didn’t care about what it meant until you did… Why did you come into my life to take everything from it… I didn’t care about the world until you did…

Logico watches the casket be lowered into the ground in Irratino’s favorite graveyard.

And I know at first I thought that you were batshit And every foolish claim you made I soon redacted And it’s still not sinking in, after everywhere we’ve been That I’m never blessed to see your sweet face again I didn’t care about their words until you did… I didn’t care about what it meant until you did… How could you come into my life then take everything from it… I didn’t care about myself until you did…

After his ballad, Logico realizes that the person that was gonna give the eulogy has been murdered.

Azure is there, because she is sad. Grey, Tangerine, and Cloud are there for other reasons. All activity seems even more suspicious to our short king, seeing Cloud near the weird shack and Tangerine whispering about their twisted body-stealing dream. 

LOGICO: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU NEED IRRATINO’S BODY FOR? TANGERINE: I promise, I never said anything about a body. 

The weapons are creepy too, like another disembodied skeleton arm, a magnetic field device (probably Irratino’s), and a bubbling cauldron of merciless slop. Logico stops and imagines the perfect image of Irratino’s face in his brain. Immediately, the figure speaks.

GHOST IRRATINO: The body thief has that broom. LOGICO: WAIT! Before you go…

No, the vision is just a vision and it disappears. But Tangerine is not the culprit.

GREY: He had my bags! Antique tea bags that I let him borrow, and I suspected he was brewing them, instead of appreciating them as the art they were! So yeah, maybe I robbed him, but I was robbing back MY OWN BAGS! And he tried to stop me… So I killed him, fine. LOGICO: Quiet.

Meanwhile, poor Azure was genuinely looking for Irratino’s ghost, Tangerine’s plans of stealing the goat corpse are thwarted, and Cloud’s affair will not be spoken of.

Without even bothering to have SOMETHING happen to Grey, Logico storms off violently, DONE with the ceremony.

The end!

our dear short king is in a poor headspace

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[bittersweetresilience]

sunny's favorite asukiess creations

hearth (18,589 words)

Because how do you describe a dream once you wake up, when it’s fleeting and slipping through the cracks in your mind like it’s a sieve? You can barely wrap your lips around the concepts and words before you realize it has slipped through like water, and what lay in your hands is just a pang in your chest? When every moment away from it clouds your mind just a little more, until the memories are threadbare? or: Adrien understands what it means to have a home.

Back when I first met Autumn I was on a reading spree and I saved this fic for last and it just completely stunned me. I remember whipping out a textbox page to annotate for my comment, and that's what kicked off insanely long commenter™ Sunny. No matter what Autumn says! This! Is! My! Favorite! Autumn! Fic! At least until I see the secret one she won't let me see... but no, it will always be special to me.

the secrets we keep (14,661 words)

In the wake of a summer that Adrien never wanted to end, all that he wishes to push away comes back to haunt him when the school years starts again: self-doubt from identities that feel no more real than anything else; ghosts of parents who still talk to him; and most all, a fear that the people he loves will leave him in time, too. however, maybe the person who can relate most to him is the one he's never far from.

The best memories of reading this fic as Autumn wrote it and chatting about it and being teased with every Félix mention and being in love with her mind forever and always... if you've ever liked an asukiess meta post or idea post you'll love this. Combination of all of those beautiful things.

wip i saw as of yesterday

Perhaps premature to put it on this list but I have to include it because it was a taste of AUTUMN ORIGINAL WRITING!!!!!!!! AUTUMN ORIGINAL CHARACTERS!!!!!!!! And theater kid Autumn, too. Autumn could be published... Autumn could do anything... if those fools don't get it I'll start my own Autumn publishing company...

switching shenanigans (1,337 words)

Félix.............. first Autumn Félix.............................

felinette fics

FERAL EXPLODE BOOM DECEASED GRAVE HEADSTONE FIRE HOUSE EMOJIS

The art piece whose WIP inspired a fic out of me which was Autumn and my friendship's origin story... FUCKING NATHALIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I accept this. Such a drop dead gorgeous piece.

The most insane fic ever with the most insane fic art ever... WITNESS!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

EEEEEEEEEMOOOOOOOOOOTIOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love how much Autumn loves this piece, every time she reblogs it it makes me happy. Get some horror in this Felinette tonight.

POLAROIDS I LOVE THEM. LOVEYBUG AU WEEK I LOVE YOU

Can you even function after looking at this. They. Shrimping.

HE'S EVERYTHING TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

This is criminally underrated... Look At Him. HIS FUCKING BUNNY

I ran out of link blocks but I also wanted to share Unrequited. HAMBDS.

AND AUTUMN'S SUPER SECRET LOVEYBUG ZINE WIP

AUTUMN AND HER CLASSICS!!!!!!!!!! AUTUMN AND HER HUMONGOUS BRAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I worship this. It's all Autumn, I just helped with images.

Okay, I was slightly more involved with this one, but Autumn's contributions literally made it 1 billion times better and I will forever cherish the memory.

Hnwhnfhwnfjgnhsnghsnhsfshwhgwnhgwghgh... Emilie...

autumn's felinette and adrifelinette thoughts

Just in general. I am so lucky.

autumn's friendship

I scrolled through our pinned messages and almost cried laughing...

[decaydanceredacted]

how is nobody talking about how infatuation is basically mx sinister part 2 ??!

she just can’t help herself she needs to watch everything you do and bring you down with her. you’re like a drug, she just can’t control herself when you’re involved. it’s a sick sick obsession but you give her these little shots of salvation when she sees you and she just needs more

them watching u thru the window. anything they can get. your sinful mouth as you eat your breakfast. they need you. one day they know they’ll snap and get you. finally get your lips around them.

hiding in your closet until you start to undress and he jumps out, grabbing you by the mouth and holding your wrists behind your back. he’s just so much bigger and stronger it’s not like you could even have a chance fighting him off, so eventually you just have to give up. him tying your wrists together and duct taping your mouth while he finally gets to fuck you in your bed. he weeps into your shoulder as he finally gets relief. you’re weeping because it hurts and you’re terrified and he’s raping you. but for some reason once he’s done (coming in you and pushing it back in as he watches it drip from your hole) he takes the tape off, knowing that you’ve been good and are too exhausted to try and get away, and curls up with you, holding you bone crushingly tight like a kid with their favorite teddy bear because he’s afraid you’ll suddenly disappear and he’ll be alone again. he doesn’t want to ever have to be without you again and he keeps whispering about how perfect you are, how he’s sorry for scaring you but it’s all gonna be ok, it’s over now. it’s like the words that he stuttered out while he fucked you but you couldn’t hear over the sound of your own heartbeat. and you. you feel comforted. after you fall asleep he leaves with sorrow in his eyes as he has to turn away. and when you wake up you think it might have all been a dream but your wrists are torn up and you’re sticky between your legs and you have little bruises scattered all over. you shower it off but you just feel so numb. and part of you misses the way he held you after. nobody had held you in a long, long time.

you don’t know why you don’t tell anyone. maybe it’s because he’s a stranger and you could barely see him in the dark, maybe it’s because you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

a few weeks later he comes back again and it’s still terrifying and you’re sobbing and you don’t want it and he makes you gag on his cock until you throw up in your mouth and he still doesn’t stop until you swallow his cum. but he tells you how well you take it. what a good puppy you are. and he doesn’t duct tape your mouth at all. and when he’s done he kisses you even though you’re frozen in place and don’t reciprocate because something deep down inside you is so deeply disgusted by him. but then he holds you again until you fall asleep and he keeps telling you he’s proud of you how grateful he is for you for not telling. and you feel wanted. nobody ever praises you, appreciates you, like he does.

and maybe the next time he doesn’t even zip tie your wrists, just lets you struggle against him so he can hold you down his his body and his hands and his strength. his towering form that you could never win against. and maybe when you wake up he’s still there and he lets you watch him go.

maybe you still don’t want it, won’t let yourself, because it’s sick and perverted. but eventually you realize you’ve stopped struggling as much. you realize you can’t take hookups home because you don’t have it in you and you’re scared he’d be mad at you. and maybe eventually you give in. because you know that deep down inside you do want it. you want him.

and maybe it’s too far and you’re terrified again just as you were starting to accept things and you thrash against him when he takes you home afterwards after one night. brings you home and keeps you in the basement for a little. but it’s just for a little bit. at the end of the weekend he takes you back while you’re asleep. sets your alarm so you can go to work like nothing happened.

and you hate it and he’s a monster but he loves you. nobody’s ever actually loved you. and you hate to admit it but you crave it like a drug. maybe you’re just as sick as him. maybe he’s made you sick. perverted.

it becomes a routine. he keeps you with him every weekend, and you don’t tell anyone. slowly pulling away from your few friends because you can’t tell them about your secret life. they wouldn’t understand.

and he learns to fuck you until it actually feels good. maybe he actually goes down on you one night and it’s sloppy but once he finds that he likes it he researches it and the next time it’s just so good. and he does it again and again as you come over and over and beg him to stop until you pass out. because at the end of the day. even if you like it. it doesn’t matter when you don’t. he’s in charge.

but you know he knows best. that he keeps you safe. that he cares about you more than anything else in his life and he tells you again and again that you never have to worry about anything again now because he’s got you. you’re his.

when your in his basement you wear a collar with a tag. your name on one side and his on the other. you’re terrified that he might ever leave you. even though you know he never would. you need him just as bad as he does you. he’s your protecter. you couldn’t live without him.

…. well that was long. i’ve been having thoughts(tm) about the song came out and just procrastinating writing it all out here for a bit bc i knew it would be super long. and it was. yolo ig.

-spiral anon (your humble, rabid, servant)(🌀forever)

sometimes i walk around and i’m like omg nobody here knows i’m spiral anon on the decaydanceredacted tumblr blog. ps can you tell i just learned to italicize stuff in these lmao. spiral out. hope u enjoyed.

.

[wolfsbane-666]

So I just saw the new Willow episode and I wanna share some thoughts about Kit's character and her relationship with Jade, Boorman, and Elora.

Spoilers ahead.

Episode three certainly was something. And while it had a great impact on a lot of characters, I want to focus on Kit a little bit (mainly because she's such a little shit and I love her for it).

This episode changed a lot of things for her. Kit can no longer deny that Dove, this unimportant kitchenmaid who just seemed to be her brother's latest plaything, is actually Elora Danan, the woman who is destined to save all of them. Kit saw the result of Elora's magic.

But what does that mean for her? What does it change? The answer is everything.

First it means that her mother has lied to her all her life. In episode one, Sorsha said:

"[...]Tomorrow Prince Graydon marries my daughter, Kit. At last unifying Tir Asleen and Galladoorn, [...] strengthening us against any threat we might face. [...] may they rule wisely and justly, and defend our realm till that day when the true empress Elora Danan returns"

When I first saw this scene, I must admit, I was a little pissed. Sorsha basically called her daughter a fucking stand-in.

But looking back now gives this scene even more weight. Because Elora was never gone. She was there, hidden in plain sight, the whole time. Sorsha was willing to marry her (very gay) daughter off to some guy she doesn't even know, obviously forcing Kit into a situation she felt very uncomfortable with, just to keep up her charade. Something she even admitted to Boorman later on.

That alliance through marriage is only necessary to unite the kingdoms to protect the realm until Elora returns. If Sorsha had decided to let Willow train Elora from the beginning on, the marriage most likely wouldn't have to exist since the realm would already be united under Elora.

I don't know if that's too far-fetched. If Kit still would have been married off to Graydon to secure an alliance. My point is, that Kit feels betrayed by Sorsha. She already did so because Sorsha tried to force her into a loveless marriage, but that betrayal just became a lot more impactful.

But her mother is not the only person she feels betrayed by. If Elora was with them all the time, it also means that Madmartigan didn't have to leave them to protect Elora. That tale, that explanation of his departure that Kit tried to make up for herself, has now completely fallen apart.

So far as Kit knows, her father left her and Airk to chase after some myth about magical armor. And that's where Boorman comes in. He was with her father. He knows what happened to at least a certain point.

The thing is, he is obviously not being completely truthful either. After episode three I honestly don't really trust him anymore. He acted very suspiciously when they reached the Slaughtered Lamb. Plus he lied to Kit about what he found in the well. So I keep asking myself, what is his goal. Boorman claims that Madmartigan found the Kymerian Cuirass, yet he never returned from his adventure.

I doubt Sorshad would have sent Boorman away with her daughter if she truly thought that he had something to do with Madmartigan's disappearance. But I'm sure that Boorman knows a lot more than he lets on and that he is following some sort of agenda on his own.

And that he is using Kit to get to it. He keeps feeding her breadcrumbs about her father and although she keeps asking, Boorman always deflects from Madmartigan's fate.

Of course, that's only theory and could be complete bullshit but at the same time, I find it too suspicious to just ignore.

And that leaves us with Jade in the end. Over the first three episodes, their relationship got pretty dented. At first, Kit felt betrayed by Jade because she was prepared to leave her when she needed her the most. Jade felt hurt by this as Kit wasn't happy for Jade following her dreams. All of that changed, however when Airk got taken. Kit clearly appreciated Jade coming with her and probably wasn't even that mad at her anymore (given the straddling and kissing and overall very gay behavior).

But then Elora came into the picture and better turned to worse again. They became hostile toward each other and more distant. Before Dove's true identity was revealed, there were comforting touches (like when Jade talked about her deceased parents) or soft smiles (like when Jade was watching Kit sleep). But once Willow said who Dove really was, that stopped. Jade believes in Willow and Elora, something that Kit clearly didn't. In Kit's eyes, they were just wasting valuable time that could determine Airk's fate. Airk, who she had a very big fight with. Kit is feeling a huge amount of guilt.

So their relationship strained over time, but the reveal that Jade let Kit beat her during their sparring sessions, that was a huge blow. You could literally see the hurt and betrayal in Kit's eyes. How she questioned everything. Has Jade been letting her win since the beginning? Has she ever actually beaten her or was it all just an act? How much did Jade hold back? Was their friendship just an act too? Was Jade only her friend because she was the princess? What else has Sorsha told Jade to do?

And now combine all that with the fact that Kit has feelings for Jade. That fucking hurts.

But Kit still cares. When Jade was forced to kill her mentor, Kit tried to comfort her, even if they were interrupted before she actually could.

How Kit handles the situation in the next episode is going to be very important. I love her, but girl needs to forget about her pride and swallow that ego of hers.

She saw that Dove truly is Elora Danan. And she saw that Willow was much more than she originally thought. And I believe that that will have a huge impact on not only how Kit interacts with those around her but also how she views this quest.

[two-white-butterflies]

WAITING FOR A BUS

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Daemon Targaryen x Reader (MODERN)

Description: A new promotion at work prompts you to move into a small modest town with your boyfriend, Aemond Targaryen. There you meet a few friendly faces. It seems like life is going where it's supposed to. That is until you meet your new boss, Daemon Targaryen, who is your boyfriend's estranged uncle.

It doesn't help with the fact that you've been having dreams about him since birth.

masterlist | chapter twenty

After the conversation, Olenna left the both of you alone - she figured that giving you time to think was important. "He murdered someone. Bloody crazy." you mumbled, retracing the conversations that you had with him - searching for signs that he was only showing you a facade of what he was.

"I knew that he was unhinged, but not fucking mad." he replied rubbing circles on his palms.

When a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin - madness and greatness are their two sides.

"That could've been me," you huffed, forgetting about the coffee in front of you. Aemond has always been - different, anger pumped through his veins and his emotions changed as easily as he breathed. "I wanna get the hell out of here, Daemon." you added, finding comfort in his presence.

"I don't want to see anyone that we know. I don't wanna see Aegon, or Helaena or Alicent." you rambled off, remembering the times that they defended Aemond's hostility towards you. They didn't harm you - but they tolerated the harm that was happening to you.

He would scream at you in front of them, talk about indecent things in your presence, and all that they could say was: it was normal.

Yes, it was normal.

It was normal for Aemond to act that way, but it didn't make it right.

Daemon watches you descend into the past. His hands snake towards the small of your back, comforting you silently with his warm palms. He could see right though you - every neuron and thought that went through your brain.

"Did they know about the murder?" you ask, eyes narrowing at the thought of death. Alicent was a good person, but a mother will go through lengths to protect her children.

He leans into his chair. He takes a deep breath before opening his mouth. "Apparently, Aegon testified in his defense." he answered truthfully, recalling the words that were written in the report. "Fuck, that's messed up." you cursed, burying your head in your palms.

"I-I don't think I can ever look at them in the same way again." you stuttered, a permanent title was etched above their names. Criminals and defenders.

"You don't have to look at them again. We can move away from here - and forget all about them. You studied five-years in law. You can continue studying if you want to." he offered, retracting his hand and playing with his watch.

He's been thinking about leaving for a long time. He's been wanting to finish his Ph.D since he's stepped foot inside Dragonview. He only stayed because there was a reason to stay.

"I'd love that."

(Five-Years Later)

It's been five years since you disappeared off the face of the earth. You can still remember the day that you left: May 8, 2023 - and everything after that was pure bliss.

You and Daemon quickly moved into Switzerland, enjoying the snow - and the scenery around you. He finished studying for his Ph.D a few years quicker than he was supposed to - you however postponed finishing your law degree. Instead, you focused on teaching kinder-gardeners and healing from your scars. The both of you were lucky to welcome your first child, Maekar Targaryen.

After Switzerland - you moved to Siargao.

The warm sand was kissing your barefoot. The shoreline was beautiful in the morning, but the sun was far different than what they had in Canada. There was humidity in the air, and the sun felt like razor blades in the afternoon.

"Do you wanna go for a swim?" Daemon asks while pulling your hand closer to the water.

"It's not safe yet, I don't want to get stung." you whined but he keeps laughing and pulling you inside the water.

The water was warm - slightly colder than the sand. It was comforting to be in paradise - the constant feel of the current on your legs, and his warm hands that were wrapped around yours.

"They're not gonna bite you, I promise." he smiled, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. He was enjoying life - the both of you were. "The last time we took a morning swim, I had to get hauled to the hospital." you recall and he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry for that," he laughed, as the both of you walked deeper into the water. The seaweed was tickling your feet. You tried to avoid the corals and the fishes. The smell of salt-water flooded your nose. You remove your hand from his own. You lift both of your arms, holding onto him for balance.

You couldn't reach the water anymore - and he was the only person tall enough to reach it at this point. "It's nice here," you mumbled, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He smelled like home.

"Let's stay here for a while." you add, his hands wrap around you for balance. "We should live here - I'll buy a house right there, beside the celebrity's house - so Maekar can swim whenever he wants to." he imagined, earning a playful glare from you.

"And who's going to watch him?" you huffed, his hands wrap around you tighter. "Me." he answered, reaching for your jaw with his free hands - pulling you closer and bridging your lips together.

His lips tasted like salt, but his mouth was sweet.

"I love you, Dae."

"I love you too."

You walked slowly to your beach-chair - hair dripping with water. Maekar and the maid were sitting on one of the chairs, watching the sun shine. Your little boy liked being on the beach - he also hated wearing sunscreen, much to your dismay.

He was wily, and talkative. He blabbered about a subject, but none could understand what he was talking about - he was only four months old anyways. He always reached for your hair, bite his father's fingers - and laugh at everything he saw.

He was half of your soul. You love him with all of your heart.

You fish for the phone inside of your bag. There were a few notifications from work and pilates, but one of them managed to catch your eye - it was Rhaenyra messaging you from the abyss.

NYRA 5:49AM It's been a while. I was hoping that you and Daemon could come back here. It's very important. NYRA 5:49AM As you know...Alicent's been struggling with her disease for a long time now. She died peacefully inside her house. Aegon and his kids were there, but she's getting buried a few days from now and none of us know where you are. NYRA 6:00AM It would mean the world for us if you attended. The funeral's being held in the Clubhouse, come whenever. 💚

You read out the long message, tears flooding your vision as the news became too heavy for you to bear. "Daemon!" you call out to him and he emerges from the waves, wearing a badge of confusion.

"Yeah?" he asked, reaching for the towel on the sand. He wraps it around his torso - eyebrows merging into each other as he sees the tears that were flowing from your irises. "Alicent's dead." you informed, before wrapping your arms around him in grief.

"Oh no," he replied, combing through your hair.

He didn't believe that Alicent was part of the family - but she was the mother of his niece and nephews. She suffered under the abuse of her husband, his brother, and that earned her respect. Her existence didn't leave a mark on his life - but it left a mark on yours.

"We need to be there, I need to see her." you pleaded and he nodded his head. He could never disagree with you. "I'll book the tickets. We'll take the quickest flight out of here." he promised while turning his head towards his baby boy. "Hello, Maekar." he leaned down on the chair, taking the boy out of Liz's hold.

"We'll bring him. His cousins should meet him." you inform, staring lovingly at the little boy. He tried to reach for your hair, but Daemon pulls him away.

"You silly boy, always reaching for mama's hair." he chuckles, rocking the baby gently.

next chapter>>

taglist: @urmomsgirlfriend1 @namelesslosers @immyowndefender @ammo2022 @perihelioneclipse @gracielikegrapes @joliettes @ammo23

ONE LAST CHAPTER (for my own self-indulgence)

[shady-swan-jones]

Silicon Valley fic Masterlist

Hallfoyle, mine:

Schrödinger's cat 

"First you say ‘I like you’ as if I haven’t spent the last three years watching you being a mean sarcastic asshole and not caring about anyone’s feelings. Then you add ‘not like that’, disappear, and proceed to never mention it again. And go to extreme lengths to avoid me. So, for fuck’s sake, Gilfoyle, what is your deal?” -/- Monica is furious. Gilfoyle falls back on science and philosophy as a way to address his feelings. Naturally.

The Road Not Taken 

Laurie offers Monica everything she ever wanted if she goes back to Bream-Hall. But is it too late now that she's helming Pied Piper? Did she make the right choice, risking it all for a dream and a New Internet?

What Are You Waiting For 

Gilfoyle has the chance to write the algorythm that will make him post-Pied Piper famous, the king of System Architecture. Monica has received an offer she doesn't share with the group. But why do they both procrastinate when they're faced with what is, arguably, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? -a short fic about holding back

This Guy Fucks 

There were a number of instances in the last year that left Dinesh Chungtai utterly dumbfounded. Yet, nothing came close to surprising him more than seeing his satanist buddy leaving a cup of coffee on Monica’s desk like it’s normal Gilfoyle behavior. - a Hallfoyle story

Don't SCRUM it up, Gilf 

“At least I didn’t put my girlfriend in prison because I was too much of a pussy to break up with her”, Girlfoyle grips. Dinesh pauses, the beer bottle halfway to his mouth. “At least I had a real girlfriend, instead of stringing someone along while mooning over a girl who doesn’t even bother to reject me”.

Hallfoyle:

Can't Keep My Hands Off Of You by ShyRomantic

Gilfoyle and Monica were having a hard time keeping their hands to themselves, they keep getting caught but they just can't bring themselves to stop. Their friends handle their passions in the best way they can.

Attractive Opposites by Ariana (ariana_paris) [complete]

Gilfoyle likes Monica. Monica doesn’t like Gilfoyle. Or at least she doesn’t until she knows he likes her. Not that she wants a relationship with him, of course. They are complete opposites, after all. But you know what they say about opposites…

Halloween Hijinx by ShyRomantic

Pied Piper decides to throw a halloween party for the office, blow off some steam. Monica might have forgotten her costume but Gilfoyle has a trick or two up his sleeve that might help, and Dinesh might have a full meltdown in the process.

I Like You by DialandyouShallReceive

Takes place after "I like you" happens in 5.08. I love these weird nerds.

together_a five times prompt by blackfodder 

Gilfoyle and Monica are in a relationship. People find out as time goes on.

Perfect Illusion by Ariana (ariana_paris) [c]

Monica urgently needs a plus one for a school friend's wedding. Since nobody suitable is available, she takes Gilfoyle.

Only the Good Die Young by ProgramasaurusRex [wip]

Monica's a Catholic. Gilfoyle's a Satanist. Both of them are confused.

Running a Half-Cryptonomicom by Ariana (ariana_paris)

Set during 6x02. Monica is upset about something and Gilfoyle's ego is slightly bruised.

Purgatory by Cole88 [wip]

Gilfoyle has convinced himself that he is content. Monica disagrees. Sort of.

National Anthem by violet_saturn [wip]

Pied Piper's CFO and Systems Architect haven't interacted much since their victory over the 51% attack. Will Pied Piper's first 4th of July party change things?

Jared/Richard:

The Weight of Us by  @onequartercanadian

The Uber Kidnapper had been on the loose for two years, using Uber to abduct unsuspecting passengers who are never seen again. His last three victims were in San Francisco and Palo Alto. When Richard is his latest victim, Jared stops at nothing to find him. Especially when he realizes what his true feelings for Richard are.

Set It Up by @iambickentameter

In an ingenious attempt to occupy Jared's time, Monica and Gilfoyle take increasingly extreme measures to set him up with Richard.

work friends who live in their workplace by iknowandimsorry

After Pied Piper fails, Richard doesn’t travel. He goes back to the Hacker Hostel and rots. Jared goes with him.

I like me better when I'm with you by @seasiderendezvouss [c]

Hiring Jared was supposed to be a simple act of revenge. Richard would poach him to get back and Gavin and that would be it… at least, that was supposed to be it.

One Last Chance by Ilsistemaperiodico

They may finally find a way to make Son of Anton works.

the curve became a sphere by darklips_paleface

Richard needed space to figure out how to talk to Jared again, how to let him know that Richard wasn’t some tech messiah anymore and that Jared needed to stop treating him like he was something special when he was just some guy now. Or maybe he’d go on this whole global adventure thing, and Eat Pray Love himself into being a better person, a better friend. Here's hoping.

i'm sorry, okay? by lohoron [c]

“You have to take care of your cuticles, Richard,” Jared had whispered kindly, “Such a beautiful person like you should have the neatest cuticles in the world.” Richard had brushed it off. Another Mr. Potato Head of Beautiful People comment. It wasn't a big deal. But he felt a swelling in his tummy he can only describe as gratitude.