#well except for 'we were at war and I did what I had to do'

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 11: The One About the Heart of the Ocean

My father is a big history buff. He fancies himself a bit of an expert about the U.S. Civil War, U.S. Presidents, and World War II. In fact, he’s gifted me with the Useless Knowledge of which four U.S. Presidents were assassinated while in office (Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy – you’re welcome for that little addition to your own Library of Useless Knowledge).

But, more importantly, my dad has instilled in me the importance of a timeline. The idea that, if you’re collecting information, it’s vital to keep it in chronological order, that way you can look at it, (try to) understand it, and theorize about what happened before and after an event. If the facts are out of order, the conclusion you reach may be in error.

My father and I also like to solve True Crime together. When he visits, we spend hours on the porch studying some random, usually cold, true crime event. We timeline the shit out of it, connect the puzzle pieces together, and exclaim in the end, “We’ve solved it!” I suppose that is part of what keeps me interested in Lukola – not that there is anything criminal in Lukola, except perhaps the “Single White Female” that pops up behind Nicola from time to time – I just enjoy the game of trying to put the pieces together.

Lukola has become a rather intriguing puzzle, don’t you think? It’s definitely one to which I do not have all the pieces. I do, however, enjoy collecting the information and chronologizing it, and now I find it enjoyable to scribble my thoughts out on Tumblr.

So, how did I get here?

Well, it started with boredom and ended with a timeline.

My first entry to the timeline?

July 20, 2024.

What happened on that date?

Well, nothing spectacular really, except JVN posted –

HOLD UP!

HOLD THE FUCK UP!!

OH SHIT!!

YES!

YES, you guessed it! After blowing JVN off for at least three, maybe four, posts in a row, I’m finally getting around to dedicating an entire entry to Their Royal Highness.

JVN is such a fascinating creature. I mean, you get beautiful, witty, and intelligent wrapped into one human being. Oh, and they are kind of a catty bitch, too, and who doesn’t love one of those? That’s why they're the Heart of the Ocean on the USS Lukola; they just give off this very rare blue diamond vibe. Well, that, and because something they did marks the focal point – the heart – from which the rest of my timeline branches.

*I will cut in here to note that I am referring to JVN as they/their in this entry as their Instagram bio indicates they accept “they/he/she.”

Okay, back to July 20.

On that date, JVN posted to TikTok their version of the Charli xcx “Apple” dance. You know that annoying TikTok trend that took over our summer? Yeah, that’s the one – the same one Antonia tried doing – she just couldn’t pull off the JVN version of it. Dear girl couldn’t come close to matching JVN’s “enthusiasm,” and JVN’s version was only made more enjoyable in that they were seemingly mocking Antonia!

But, all’s fair in love and war, right?

JVN’s bestie, Nicola, had already spent the entire summer subtlety combating Antonia over social media. The vibe in the fandom was that Antonia was always trying to one-up Nicola, with Nicola always coming out the victor. I’m sorry, Antonia, you just can’t beat some perfectly timed BTS drops.

So, why did JVN’s TikTok post intrigue me? It wasn’t because it was that amusing. It was because they’d done something I hadn’t noticed before – they’d taunted Antonia on a public forum.

Curious, that.

Now, I’m not saying it was the first time JVN mocked Antonia, but July 20 was the first time I noticed it. That date is the heart of my timeline, but it does not have to be the heart of yours. We can all start at different times but still reach the same conclusions, so long as we keep the information in order.

You would think one wouldn’t mess with the “girl friend” of your best friend’s “best friend,” at least not publicly. But, here was JVN shamelessly mocking Antonia on TikTok. And, just so we’re clear, the public opinion of what JVN was doing with this TikTok is available to view in the comments of their TikTok post. It wasn’t just me that came to this conclusion – and JVN has left these comments up for four months at this point.

JVN’s “Apple” dance was only made more interesting the following day – July 21 – when they included it in their Sunday Dump post on Instagram.

And, Nicola liked it.

Hmm, things were becoming curiouser and curiouser.

Let’s not even pretend that Nicola isn’t street savvy and didn’t understand the context of that video. And, let’s definitely not underestimate the length of her claws.

To be honest, I hadn’t paid too much attention to Lukola since mid-June. It was an “it is what it is” thing for me. Even though I believed the relationship between Luke and Nicola was complicated (see my first blog for that story), Luke had also apparently disappeared into the summertime sun with his friend group, which included Antonia.

Something about JVN openly making fun of Antonia, and Nicola, at the very least acknowledging it with an Instagram like, made me realize something in Luke’s situation must be shifting.

What have I said about little changes? That deviations in modus operandi are what make people start giving the side-eye to a situation.

And, side-eye I did!

I started paying attention to JVN and, on July 25, they posted a series of photos on TikTok and Instagram showcasing “What I would wear if you invited me to your…” We will fast-forward through all the slides until we get to the last one, which read, “…just got dumped and going to take 8 shots dinner at Lupe’s in SoHo.” Was it possible that JVN was hinting at a dumpster fire at the Soho Farmhouse?

If you don’t know what the Soho Farmhouse is, it’s the place where Luke and his friend group, including Antonia, frequented, probably on Luke’s dime (*insert wicked laugh – oh, and a disclaimer that this is all speculation).

Funny that Nicola liked this post on Instagram, too, and it wasn’t even buried in a Sunday Dump.

At this point, JVN had really sparked my damn interest. Like, dear one, what are you hinting at?

On July 29, Deux Moi creeped out from under its rock and reminded the fandom to hate Luke by rehashing Papsmear. Thank you, we needed that. I mean, half of us almost forgot how much we hated him! That’s me being a sarcastic tart, by the way. If we were to fast-forward to today, I’d argue that Luke was the most darling thing to come out of Bridgerton.

Any ways, again, thank you, Deux Moi, for those suspiciously timed Papsmear pictures because they aligned perfectly with the pap pictures People dropped the following day – July 30.

Yep, I am talking about those strangely awkward pap pictures of Luke hanging out in the murky waters of Sorrento with Antonia. Oh, and let’s not forget the video footage of that encounter, which I am sure still upsets and confuses people to this day. In fact, I know it does because, as I was researching this, I had a couple of people get annoyed after I asked them to view it. Funny thing is, that shit never bothered me (I didn’t say that it didn’t later confuse me!). The first time I saw them, I was like, “Luke is not into that girl at all,” and my next thought was, “I wonder how old these pictures are because I would have sworn JVN was hinting at something.”

Now, this story wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t address the rumor portion of it.

First rumor? That Antonia set up the entire Italy pap photo-op because she seemingly knew where to find the cameraman. So, let’s discuss that video everyone seems to hate to acknowledge exists. In the video, you can see Antonia maybe looking in the direction of the cameraman. She then leans into Luke, either to whisper something to him or to reach for something behind him. In my opinion – and this is strictly my opinion – it looks like she’s pretending to reach for something over his shoulder. Still shots of this interaction are the photos People published, presumably because Luke and Antonia looked like they were cheek to cheek.

Okay, notice I said, “first rumor,” because, yeah, there’s a second rumor, too! But, it fits snuggly into that first rumor. Almost immediately – because that’s how fast the Lukola Sleuths get to work around here – rumors began to circulate that Antonia was following on Instagram the photographer that took the Italy pap pictures. In fact, several people I’ve spoken to swear that they witnessed during a TikTok Live a host prove that Antonia was following this photographer. That’s a bit suspicious, isn’t it? Yeah, it fucking is.

Let’s keep moving.

That same day, we had that video drop of Luke watching fireworks, at night, with sunglasses. Speaking of sunglasses, I guess Luke found those motherfuckers because he sure as shit didn’t have them while floating around in that dirty ass water. Any ways, at the end of the video, Rory appears behind Luke, looking in the direction of the camera and smiling like a condescending, sneaky little shit. Now, who was the cameraman? Well, a possible suspect would be Antonia since she was not seen in the video. Go figure.

Alright, so that day finally ended and on July 31, JVN posted to TikTok a cutesy video of themself at the market titled, “When you catch someone trying to sneak a pic but you were born for these moments.” They prance around the market and randomly look at the cameraman (Mark) with a smile and a pose. The caption reads, “I welcome sneaky pics but I can’t guarantee I won’t sneak some back or put on a show for you.”

WAIT A MINUTE!

Did JVN just inexplicably confirm Luke was getting papped by his own friends?

Yeah, I kind of think JVN did.

And, Nicola liked this one as well when JVN posted it to Instagram on August 8.

Didn’t I tell you JVN was a fascinating creature? And, to be honest, JVN only gets better as this Lukola ship continues on its voyage.

Oh, strangely enough, a few days after the Italy pap crap, Luke returned to London alone. The friend group became unsettlingly silent, and Nicola started to get really, really loud – Chaos Week was incoming! And, so were some more JVN crumbs (and nicely timed clap backs).

[adultemophase]

A VERY LONG ARCANE S2 REVIEW (Not spoiler free below page break)

Firstly, these are all my opinions and everyone is entirely entitled to their own. If you hated S2? That’s fine but I didn’t. So, I will be doing a kind of general breakdown of my thoughts on each act below but first my general review is that I think in terms of overall story telling, season 1 is better.

To ME, S2 seems like more of what they initially had in mind for the show, and they just really nailed the exposition of S1. This is what I think made S1’s pacing feel a lot better - it’s all exposition for S2. Season 2 had to fit a climax and resolution for all of these characters in the same amount of time that they took to set up all of these story lines in the previous season. I genuinely think that each act could have been it’s own season but w/ how expensive the show is to make and the amount of time production took between seasons, I see how that’s not practical. Especially if they want to explore other regions sooner than 15 years from now.

TBH I really enjoyed this season. I understand some people are hating it because of the parts they don’t like but it’s still a visually stunning show with great characters. Do I think there were areas where the story fell flat? Yes. I also think given the time constraints and restriction of this being the last season, the visual story telling was very well done and a great way to move along the story without sacrificing time. I genuinely think it’s such a phenomenal feat of animation that characters expressions convey thoughts and emotions that feel real without dialogue. I still am blown away that it’s a LoL show because despite my love of league lore and characters, I never would have expected that Riot could produce such a heart wrenching show about the tragic nature of love and loss, the things we do for love, and the flaws of our own humanity.

I also think some people set their expectations WAYYY too high for the social commentary aspect of the show after s1, as far as I’m aware there was never any claim made by any part of the prod or writing team that it would be one. Idk overall, I thought it was a lot of fun and still an exceptional show. Not what I was expecting but I’m not upset about how it ended. I think it was conclusive but also not so finite that it leaves zero room for interpretation of the characters implied futures.

It is a little disheartening to see so many immediate negative reactions to it but, again, people are entitled to their own opinions and as much as I complain about people not using critical thinking skills or passing grade 9 literature - art is subjective. Animation, ESPECIALLY at this scale and complexity, is a form of art. I, as I’m sure many other’s did, found it a fulfilling end to one of my favorite shows. Yes, I wish there was more but I can’t bring myself to be disappointed with what we did get.

Below is my (again PERSONAL and NOT SPOILER FREE) 1-10 rating and my thoughts on each act (not really going to analyze anything because I need about 3-5 weeks to scrub through every episode so only my little reviews) :

ACT 1 (7/10) : I think this act is the one with the worst pacing, but I said a whole back in a previous post that I believe to some degree it was intentional. There is suddenly a war happening so I think it’s supposed to feel chaotic a bit chaotic. However I can concede to part of it just being, well, bad pacing. This act is definitely one I wish could have taken up more episodes if there were more seasons since I would prefer flushed out development as opposed to music videos at the beginning of each episode. However, for what it was, they serve their purpose narratively and relay the information that the viewer needs to know. Otherwise, as heartbreaking as the act is, I gotta put myself on blast and say that I LOVE the end sequence of ep 3 when Ambessa makes Caitlyn commander. Like it’s so daunting and cool. Ep 1 fight scene at the memorial? super sick. I also loved the development of the dynamic between Sevika and Jinx. You can feel the characters devolve into a version of themselves that truly is worse and I think that’s so fun. Most of my drop in rating is from how fast it feels.

ACT 2: 9/10

I simultaneously have so much and so little to say. I won’t talk about Isha’s death because to me it was fairly evident that she was going to die from act 1. Anyways, for me this was the most tragic act and I’m still trying to decide between this and act 3 as my favorite. I love them both, in different ways. Seeing Jinx and Vi be brought together and Vander was so touching and sad. You get a real look of how much they still care for each other despite the fact that they’re perpetually ripped apart. I’ve already made a post about the scene between Caitlyn and Vi, so I won’t just say the same thing I’ve already said. I also honestly am not upset that Vi’s “six-ish months of going insane” wasn’t drawn out. Again, I don’t LOVE the music videos, but narratively, it tells you virtually everything you need to know about what’s happened to her and where she is mentally. It’s literally a montage of her life for the past several months. As a recovering addict and someone known to self destruct, I would much rather they condense that like they did rather than draw it out and not handle it well. If you’re going to be cynical, you could say they didn’t anyways but, recovering addict, so I was more worried before the act 2 release that it would be triggering rather than handled poorly.

Jayce coming back and tweaking out was also such a fun touch when it wasn’t explained until the next episode why he was acting that way. Like I figured it had to do with the hex crystal now fused with his body but it was still so interesting.

ACT 3: 9/10

Maybe unpopular but I LOVED this act. Everything was so visually intriguing that on my first watch I wasn’t even fully locked in just because I was focused on how good the imagery/animation is. I thought I was going to hate ep 7 because, unfortunately that leak was real (no I won’t be changing my pfp to a clown like I said I was bc I’m stubborn) but the implication to me of that episode was not “Vi dead so everything good!” it’s that they saw a kid die because of the crystals Jayce had and, in brevity, saw what the tension between the undercity and Piltover was doing to people. I am curious what happened to THAT universes Jayce but I imagine he was probably imprisoned.

Obviously, I have to address the sex scene, and honestly? I don’t mind that it’s in a jail cell BECAUSE of the very obvious parallel to how they first met. It was also done in such a wonderful way that it feels like a legitimately intimate scene between the characters and not just a “man well I suppose they need to fuck, huh.” or male gaze-y “lesbians 🤤” way.

I will be honest and say I don’t like multiverse stuff since it kind of kills the whole “arcane is cannon” thing. I also just don’t love it in general because in recent years it’s been just a cop out for companies to make more money off of IPs (see Marvel) but it makes me want to go back and rewatch s1 again to see if this has always been the plan. I don’t mind Viktor being the wizard that Jayce sees when he is a kid since they tied that up in a way thats really cool. I do think it’s an episode though that, after seeing it a couple of times, is easily skippable since it doesn’t really do a ton for the main plot. Like Ekko gets his Z drive, heimerdinger (i think?) dies, and Jayce discovers the damage hextech can do. Don’t get me wrong, I really like the episode, unfortunately it is just one that I feel like viewers can skip over upon rewatch because of the AU stuff.

Also MEL, I love her storyline with the black rose and I really hope that her putting on the Noxian clothing in the end is an indication that we will get more of her if Riot does a series based in Noxus.

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

I have decided to completely disregard the events depicted in Secret Invasion.

In much the same way that Marvel/Feige have disregarded the very real effects which Stephen Strange's grueling, excruciating painful emotionally & physically, 1,500+ year search for the path to victory over Thanos, have had upon him.

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence summaries of every TMA episode

(1-60 i'll add more soon)

part 2 up!

world's most effective anti-smoking PSA

man DOES NOT open coffin. everyone claps.

woman is judgemental towards neighbor even though she has hobbies that are just as weird.

book makes multiple people fall off chair.

man finds bag of teeth and decides he absolutely needs to fuck around and find out.

worm sti.

there was a SCARY MAN in the WAR.

fuck this tree

well at least ted bundy was a great father :)

i'm like 55% sure vampires are real and i'm willing to take those odds

bitches be dying. you're next.

we kill this man because he made the soda too warm.

sorry ur husband's dead. maybe get some help.

Unbox with me ! (GONE WRONG)

hah i'm safe from this one because i have decided to Never Go Into a Cave Ever.

man is so annoying about this spider that even his cat can't be bothered

man's bully finds a book about a Bone Turner and subsequently begins turning people's bones.

this guy sucks at DIY home improvement

aw maybe this priest didn't do anything THAT bad!

oh fuck nevermind

THE SKY ATE MY SON.

the worms stole my identity. i haven't left the house in days.

man beats german children at game of bravery and wins a coin (he later loses this coin)

my ex boyfriend gets casted in the muppets and dies

sorry mom, i've abandoned jesus for a new religion : jesus in the dark.

tall squiggly and HANDsome

old man arm wrestles demon through door knob

the buzzfeed unsolved guys finally catch a ghost but it's their sound tech

immortality but at what cost

working at the big meat factory was so traumatizing it made me vegetarian

i go to america and get almost killed by a furry

well if you love that wasp nest so much why don't you MARRY it (and then she did)

antisocial boat crew bands together to exclude one guy from a midnight party. he dies from the rejection.

bone apple teeth

remember when that norwegian guy threw a tantrum about us not digging a hole? turns out we were right to not dig that hole.

babe come over my parents have taken ill and passed away

man fucks around and it costs him everything

HOMOPHOBIC CHINESE VASE

oh god oh fuck the worms are here

thank you for participating in worms! please rate your wormsperience from 1 to 10.

the wormsperience has left me deeply scarred. i'm going to get lost in a tunnel about it.

🎸music makes me loose control🎸

spooky stories to tell at the next police slumber party

child threatens to run away and join the circus one too many times, and now the circus has come to cash in.

these mosquitoes are mad sus

man frequents local barnes and noble and then dies(?) after liking a book too much.

realtor gets eaten by the backrooms twice. it's a terrible shame.

both me and this weird goth dude have an unsatisfying italy vacation

guy who turns people's bones gets a new job where he continues to turn people's bones.

man who should never be allowed to build prisons builds a prison.

Something Big Is In The Water.

what if u heard me about 15 feet behind you fumbling around and calling out ur name 😳 (and we were both prison guards)

i'm going to be honest i didn't retain anything from this episode except that this guy has the silliest old man voice ever

everybody hates the tax man, including these creepy taxidermy animals

hmmgh. ant house.

so turns out being only 55% sure that vampires are real in my career as a vampire hunter has had some consequences.

the only thing keeping you company in space is your abandonment issues

🎶 the snack that smiles back 🎶 (my husband!)

maybe the real treasure was the house siblings we encased in spider web along the way.

your dead brother wrote books about ancient myths and WHAT

Part 2

[velvetvexations]

Antigonism

ANTIGONE: I'll do my duty to my brother - and yours as well, if you're not prepared to. I won't be caught betraying him.

What is antigonism?

Antigonism is a transfeminist mode of thought specifically for transfems that embrace solidarity with other trans people, as well as those who are intersex and the queer community in general, under the belief that it's vital to recognize we're all equally oppressed and capable of doing lateral harm to one another

Beliefs of antigonistic transfems include but are not limited to:

accepting that transandrophobia exists

being mindful of exorsexism

not policing the terms that intersex people use for themselves

awareness that other AMAB people can present as feminine without being some kinna insult to us

recognizing that racial hegemony and the cishetpatriarchy are radically different systems of oppression and any comparison between the two, while possible, must be made with exceptional care

rejecting the "reclamation" of radical feminism

finding it appalling to demand that other trans people define themselves as privileged for not experiencing the same things as us - especially when they do in fact experience much of what is commonly, inexplicably cited as unique to transfems.

Isn't that just trans unity?

Trans unity is also great! But I feel like transfems who explicitly reject trans radical feminism could do with a word that is more forceful and specific. Some would prefer that this just be considered the default, and the vocal minority of people who think transfems are oppressed by other trans people should simply be treated as weirdos out of step with the rest of us, but I think there's value in making a strong statement with a term like this.

I've seen a lot of people who legitimately feel like shit because the vocal minority has been so loudly terrible that it's affecting how comfortable they are with random transfems whose opinions they don't know. I understand the temptation to just say they need to touch grass or whatever, but even aside from the fact that things like anti-transmasculinity within the community isn't purely limited to discourse on a dying social media website, I feel like that's blaming them for their reaction to being treated cruelly. I think antigonism could help drill in that there are tons of transfems who back them up, and that they don't need to search for keywords to know that person is safe.

Because, like, that happens to me, too. So many times I've seen a post I really liked and thought was insightful, only to have my distrustful nature lead me to doing such a search before reblogging and being gravely disappointed with the results. That fucking sucks, yall.

Why "antigonism"?

In the legends of Ancient Greece, Oedipus had two sons. One of them, Polynices, would eventually go on to wage war upon his brother, Eteocles, the king of Thebes. There were many telling of the story, some in which Polynices had a very good reason for doing so and some where he didn't.

Polynices and Eteocles both killed each other in the war, but Creon, who took power after, unilaterally declared that Polynices was a traitor. Antigone, the daughter of Oedipus, however, simply does not give a fuck what Polynices did or did not do. When Creon orders that any who try to bury Polynices will be put to death, she proudly does so anyway.

The most famous teller of Oedipus's family history, Sophocles, wrote a play about the war, but it's lost to time and so we know nothing definite about what version of events is canon to Sophocles' play starring the titular Antigone. Considering that the whole point of Creon's character is his dogmatic clinging to law over sense, his assessment of Polynices as being in the wrong for going against authority doesn't clear things up.

I emphasize this because I don't want to seem like I'm framing other trans people - transmascs especially - as requiring forgiveness for some vague past sin. Quite the opposite, just as they treat us as their sisters in spite of that minority of transfems who are awful to them, we must recognize that they're often the first to shut down transmisogynists amongst themselves. Ultimately the point of Antigone's actions in defying the law to honor her brother is that things like that are entirely irrelevant. The fact that the person accusing Polynices of being evil is a jackass, and we know there were versions of the story where Eteocles had it coming, is even more reason to look past his "crime."

ANTIGONE: I owed it to him. CREON: I had forbidden it. ANTIGONE: I owed it to him. CREON: Polynices was a rebel and a traitor, and you know it. ANTIGONE: He was my brother.

Does that mean we should not call out other trans people who are transmisogynistic or otherwise treat trans women badly? Of course not. But we have no more right to abandon or spit on them than they do us, which so many of them refuse to do in spite of the hostility they've often faced. To be an antigonist is to believe that we can do no less for those who do so much for us, and the creation of the term is intended not to spur more to do that so much as to give a name to those who've already been doing that.

Finally, I understand that the plot of Antigone revolving around Polynice's burial might feel grim. Critically, however, Antigone ultimately dies as well.

ISMENE: I must yield to those in authority. I think it is dangerous business to be always meddling. ANTIGONE: You have made your choice, you can be what you want to be. But I will bury him, and if I must die, I say that this crime is holy. I shall lie down with him in death, and I shall be as dear to him as he to me.

We are oppressed by the same forces. We are allies in the same fight. We are friends, lovers, and family. An antigonist is a transfem who believes that all trans people will live together and die together. We are committed to sharing the same fate with our siblings, one way or another. Antigonists see us all as bound together, headed for the same destination, and we would not for a second ever want it to be otherwise no matter where that road leads.

One more thing!

Even if this terminology doesn't catch on, I hope this effort means something to anyone who sees this. <3 Your sisters do love you, I promise.

[seokgyuu]

What could be worse than a valentine’s day alone? Exactly, a valentine’s day spent with your academic rival, Jeon Wonwoo, stuck in the home eco’s kitchen because you were both sentenced to take over the cookie baking for this season’s day of love. 

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, smut, heart wrenching and tooth rotting fluff (wonwoo is down bad bad)

warnings: sexual content, smut warnings under cut! wonwoo is a little bit mean? but like not too mean? she’s also kinda mean. but they are in love! promise.

word count: 5k

a/n: hi everyone!! this is part of the cupids collab hosted by the wonderful @wongyuseokie for @svthub! this work is dedicated to the wonderful, the lovely, the hilarious @highvern! i hope you like it, babes!! sending you loads of love this valentine's day and thousands of kisses, mwah! i had loads of fun writing this and am happy to be a part of this collab, hehe. also thank you @ourdawnishotterthanourday for betaing, ily! <3

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move.  “Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.”  Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him. “Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.” “I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

smut warnings: minimal degradation (usage of the word “slut”), praising, pet names (princess, sweetheart, darling, pretty girl) oral (f. receiving), begging, softdom!wonwoo, unprotected sex (you know the drill - wrap it before you tap it, folks!), creampie (get it… cream…pie? cookies & cre- ok i’m sorry).

There are approximately seven thousand three hundred and twenty eight places you would rather be than here. 

Nothing has helped you get out of this unfortunate situation. No pleading, no begging, not even wanting to send Seungkwan in your stead. Professor Yoon had been adamant in his decision to send you and him to this god forsaken home eco kitchen to bake the badge of cookies for the Valentine’s day sale. 

“It’s not even a real holiday!” you had whined to Seungkwan, “if it were, we wouldn’t even be at class in the first place!” 

All your best friend did was rub your back and tell you it was all gonna be fine, all while writing a text to Vernon on his phone in his other hand. He was used to your antics when it came to Jeon Wonwoo. Everyone was, at this point. Both of you had not made it hard to get used to - just by the amount of times you had decided to fight and dive right into rivalry when there was no reason to. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t even a bad idea to put you two in one room together for several hours with no one else. It could give you time to talk out your differences. Call for a truce. Screw the anger out of each other. Anything that would make Seungkwan’s life easier. 

That day comes sooner than you wanted it to, and while your hand lays on the handle of the car door, you feel the uneasiness inside you raise. 

“I can’t do this, Seungkwan. One of us is gonna end up dead.”

“Yeah, my money’s on Wonwoo. Please don’t disappoint me.” Seungkwan hums back, hands on the steering wheel and his eyebrows raised. You turn around, your mouth slightly agape before scoffing and opening the door.

“Pick me up at 4?” you ask and your best friend nods, waving at you once the door is closed. He truly hopes neither of you ends up dead (but if push comes to shove, obviously Wonwoo because then Vernon would owe him 5 bucks). 

Professor Yoon had told you that all necessities would be at the university and that you wouldn’t have to bring anything except for a good mood, something you didn’t dare to say was impossible in the given situation. 

You aren’t stupid (Wonwoo would beg to differ), you are well aware that your professor is trying to end whatever war you and Wonwoo have going on by pairing you up for this. And while you get the sentiment and might even appreciate it a little - you’re more than sure that nothing will ever come out of this - Wonwoo and you despise each other. It has been like this since your first semester and it most definitely wasn’t going to change over something as trivial as baking cookies together. 

The home eco’s kitchen is in the basement of the economics building and you are happy to notice you’re the first to arrive. Smiling to yourself, you fish the key to the room out of your bag and unlock the door, walking in and turning on the lights. 

The kitchen is spacious and modern, everything is made out of gray steel, with a few dark wood accents on the cupboards. You spot the boxes with ingredients on the island, and place your bag next to it before unpacking the things provided for you and Wonwoo. It becomes your mission to arrange the cookbook with the recipe in the center of the right side of the island, gathering all the needed ingredients around it in the order you would need it. Then, you search the cupboards for a big bowl, wooden spoon and a mixer. 

You have gathered almost everything except for the mixer, spotting it in one of the higher cupboards you most definitely can’t reach without some sort of help. Biting down on your lip and gnawing on it, you look around the room, coming up empty. There are chairs in the room next to the kitchen, but you don’t have the key for it. With a sigh, you stretch yourself as much as you possibly can, hand reaching for the kitchen gadget - with no luck. Just when you’re about to climb on top of the counter, you feel something shift behind you, a body suddenly pressed against yours and an arm reaching up to grab the mixer for you without any trouble at all. 

Wonwoo. Your body stiffens at his touch and only relaxes once he backs off, putting the mixer down next to the other stuff. Immediately you turn around, your eyes glaring at him.

“Someone decided to show up, after all.” You spit at him and he rolls his eyes. 

“I was forced, if you must know.” He says not even looking at you. His eyes are focused on the ingredients on the counter, his lips slowly drawing into a smug smile.

“Control freak much?” 

Your head burns and you scoff, walking over to the door and feeling his eyes on you as you move. 

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move. 

“Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.” 

Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him.

“Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.”

“I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

For the most part the two of you are quiet. Mainly because you don’t have anything to say to each other. You split the ingredients evenly (either one of you starting with their own batch since there is a whole lot of cookies to bake) and begin working on opposite ends of the kitchen. You get through the first batch without so much as exchanging looks. You do your thing and he does his. Only, when you get the first batch out, you ask him to hand you the oven mittens, which he does without any fuss. You’re surprised but don’t say it. 

It’s when the both of you start to work on your second batches that things… change.

You hate to admit the tension in the room. In fact, you’ve been hating it since the first day you’ve met him. It’s a shame he’s so hot when he’s the absolute bane of your existence. Your friends (mainly Seungkwan, really) tease you about your obvious attraction to the man you call your archnemesis every chance they get, causing you to flip them off, or scoff, or just roll your eyes at how extremely wrong they are. If you could change it, you would! Finding him attractive whilst hating him truly is exhausting. 

Slowly, you let yourself turn around in hopes he doesn’t notice. Thankfully, he is entirely focused on sprinkling chocolate chips into the cookies - white chocolate chips. You let out a gasp and your wooden spoon falls onto the top of the counter you’re working on.

“That’s cheating!” You shout, pointing at the package of sweets that he so obviously brought himself. What a jerk!

Not even looking at you, Wonwoo chuckles at your words, placing the chocolate chips next to him and wiping his hands on the apron he had put on earlier. Then, he turns to you, hip leaning against the counter, arms crossed and his eyebrows raised as he smirks like the douchebag you know he is.

“Cheating, yeah?” He repeats, licking his lips, “not sure it counts as cheating when it was clear from the beginning I would make better cookies, sweetheart.”

His condescending way of talking to you has always succeeded in making your blood boil, just like right now. You scoff, shaking your head and cleaning your own hands with a kitchen towel to your left.

“You know, considering these are for the day of love it is quite ironic Professor Yoon paired me with you, the person I hate the most.” You present Wonwoo with a honey dripping smile that couldn’t be more fake. Wonwoo doesn’t waver though. He just continues to smirk, his eyebrows shooting up even more, and before you know it he starts walking towards you, a click of his tongue almost making you flinch.

“See, love and hate are like siblings. While on the surface they couldn’t be more different, in their core they are irritatingly similar,” his voice is deep and his eyes are right there on yours and somehow you feel like he has taken away your ability to breathe. What the hell is he doing?

“You were always fascinating to me, darling. Always so sure of your opinion, never wavering. That first day we met, do you remember? How you were on my ass for the rest of the day because Professor Cha liked my answer better than yours?”

“He did not!” You shoot back, surprised by your own whiny tone. Looking at Wonwoo’s face, the defined jawline and cheekbones, the round specs on top of his nose and the brown soft curls falling into his forehead, you immediately regret speaking up at all. There is something in his eyes now, something you have never seen before  - at least not on him. Something inside of him shifted, like a switch that had been flipped, and the way he looks at you makes all of your skin erupt in goosebumps. 

“Ah, so I imagined things?” Wonwoo only so much as whispers, his large frame coming even closer, “Are you saying I’m a liar, pretty girl?”

Pretty girl. What the fuck? Your eyes widen and you feel your throat closing up. Absolutely not, you could not freeze right now! He was testing you, seeing how far he could go before you actually fell for whatever he was trying to do. Gathering all your confidence, you bring your hands up to place them on his chest and softly push him away. It gives you extreme satisfaction when you see the surprise on his face.

“And if I am? What are you going to do about it, Wonwoo?” Your smile turns smug and the little vein on Wonwoo’s forehead pops out just slightly. About to retrieve your arms, you are met with his hands around your wrists and his body even closer to yours. 

To say he catches you by surprise would be an understatement. Your lower back is pressed against the counter, your hands in his grip and your lungs missing the necessary air to not get dizzy. Why does he smell so good? You catch yourself thinking thoughts you normally would try to suppress at any given time - especially when Wonwoo is right in front of you. This time, though, there is no escaping. Not with him so close, not with him staring right into your soul.

“I have learned one thing over the years we’ve known each other, Y/N,” he breathes, eyes not leaving your face, “you can be a real fucking brat.”

The gasp you want to let out gets stuck in your throat. Instead, something like a choke comes out, something that makes Wonwoo smirk and your legs weak.

“You really think you’re sly. Do you honestly believe I don’t know how attractive you find me? How you need to look away everytime I come in wearing tighter shirts or pants that hang low enough to see the waistband of my underwear? You always try to act like you hate me and, you know what, maybe you do, but what I said earlier isn’t wrong, darling, love and hate are like yin and yang - they can’t exist without the other.”

He has your wrists in a strong grip and his lower body is now pressed against yours, something you never realized you craved. Feeling his growing erection against you, knowing he is turned on by you, by the situation, you feel like your head is about to explode. 

“So, what if I tell you that maybe I don’t actually hate you, but I actually find you attractive as well? What if I tell you nine out of ten times I want to shut your annoying mouth up by shoving my cock right down your tight throat? Or how whenever you bend over your desk to tell someone something you, of course, know better than them, I want to take you just like that and make everyone see just how much of a desperate pretty slut you actually are?”

You’re done for. With every word he’s saying, you can feel yourself actually becoming what he says you are. Desperate. The heat between your legs has turned into liquid in your panties, has turned into your heart beating at triple speed. 

“Y-You can’t just say that!” You stutter, knowing full well he will just laugh at you. And he does. He laughs and he throws his head back and then he looks at you again, his eyes glinting with want that only gets emphasized by the hard cock pressing against you. 

“Oh, sweet, sweet baby. Of course, I can,” he hums, finally letting go of one of your wrists to carefully tug a strand of hair behind your ear, “you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re flustered.” 

He must be playing with you. It has to be one of his games. He wants you to give in, wants you to fall for this only to hold it over your head for the rest of your college life. His mixture of dominance and sweetness is about to give you whiplash, especially when he begins to caress your cheek and leans down, his breath hitting your cheek. 

“We need to finish those cookies, Wonwoo.” The words are whispered and almost inaudible, but he hears you and he smiles.

“We’re alone in this basement, sweetheart. We’ve got all day to finish those cookies.” His hand wanders down, finding its place on your hip. You shiver slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips and when his nose bumps against yours, something tells you that maybe he is serious. 

When he kisses you, you figure that something is correct. What’s supposed to start soft turns into something deep, and hot, and uncontrolled, right off the bat. Kissing Wonwoo feels like the only thing you had ever missed out on in life and now you finally got the chance to take what belongs to you. His lips are soft and his tongue is warm, pressing against yours and entangling it in a dance of fire. Your hands are in his hair and his are on your hips and you’re sitting on top of the counter with all of your ingredients pushed to the side, your wooden spoon falling to the floor when Wonwoo lifts you up. 

As if on instinct, your legs wrap around him and you moan against his lips when his hands move up, groping your breasts through your shirt. He licks into your mouth, your fingers digging into his nape, nails dragging along his skin. 

If you could see into Wonwoo’s brain you might have gotten scared. Not because he’s thinking actual scary thoughts but because of how many times he has imagined this. You’re always there, somewhere in his brain, your smile, your eyes, your laugh. And when he’s alone and can’t sleep you’re there too, but this time it’s how he thinks you’d sound when he’s inside of you, when he sucks on your neck and squeezes your tits. There hasn’t been a day since he met you that he hadn’t thought about you. 

It’s a shame you immediately called him out to be your academic rival on that day because all Wonwoo wanted to do back then was to make you his girlfriend, basically falling in love with you at first sight. As cliché as it sounds, it’s even more cliché considering he just played along with you, acting like he hated you, riling you up during class in ways he would rather switch for moments like this one right now. 

Never had he imagined he’d get you alone, especially considering how good you are at avoiding him. But when Professor Yoon had asked him to bake the cookies for the Valentine’s day sale - he couldn’t help but suggest you as his partner. Hours would be spent together in a kitchen, hours you had to spend with him. 

He loves how right he was. How right he was about you giving in, about you finding him hot, about you wanting him. He loves the sounds you make when he begins kissing down your neck and when his hand wanders under your shirt and shoves away your bra to touch the breasts he had been dreaming about. He sucks marks onto your neck and feels himself grow harder with every passing second. There is nowhere on this earth he’d rather be than right here, between your legs. 

“Been dying to do this, you know?” He mumbles against your neck, licking up to your earlobe and twitching in his pants when he feels you shivering under his touch.

“R-Really?” You whimper back and Wonwoo nods, both hands moving to your cheeks, lips back on yours in a heated, passionate kiss. He thinks that nothing will ever feel as good as kissing you. 

“Yeah, baby, wanted to kiss you forever, fuck,” he moans when your fingers move underneath his shirt, when you touch his bare skin and all of him begins to burn.

“Wanted to touch you, taste you.” His words echo in your mind and you open your eyes, a horny daze in them that makes Wonwoo question his sanity. He moves down now, kissing your neck again and shoving your shirt up to kiss your stomach and breasts over your bra, nimble fingers opening the apron you had laced around your hips earlier. 

“Can I taste you, pretty girl?” He asks then and you think you nod, at least you want to nod, but your head is clouded and you feel like you’re about to pass out. When he moves to get the apron off of you, focussing on opening your pants next, you figure you did in the end. 

Having you half naked in front of him makes Wonwoo feel like he has reached the gates of heaven. Your pants are on the floor and your chest is heaving, eyes glossy as you watch Wonwoo move to the floor, his tall body still reaching the top of the counter when he kneels in front of you. He moves his arms, wrapping them around your thighs and pulling you closer, his nose tapping against your sensitive core the next second. With a gasp, your hands reach for his head of hair, grounding yourself in it as you stare down at the way he eyes your pussy as if he had never seen anything more delicious in his life. 

When he moves your panties to the side, his finger softly gliding over your folds, you feel yourself shiver once more. You let out another whimper, biting down on your lip that feels hot and a little bruised after the way Wonwoo had kissed you. 

“God, I can’t even tell you how many nights I’ve dreamt of this moment.” He kisses the inside of your thighs, making you moan quietly, fingers coating themselves in your juices, ready to please you. 

Watching him is messing with your head in the best way possible. The way he looks at you, so full of endearment and adoration. How he touches you as if you’d break if he touched you too vehemently. He lets his tongue glide over your skin, moving until it reaches your dripping cunt, licking over your lips, tasting you for the first time. The moan he lets out has you digging your nails into his scalp, mouth dropped as you continue to stare down, continue to watch Wonwoo, your archnemesis, begin to devour your pussy like a Michelin star dish. 

He starts off slow, licking over your folds, not touching your clit even once. If he died right now, he’d be content. Tasting you, hearing your sounds when you’re aroused, him being the cause of it - it’s almost all of his dreams coming true. His fingers move, one of them circling your entrance, your whines growing louder by the second. You want his fingers inside of you, you need them inside of you. Wiggling your hips against him, Wonwoo chuckles at your antics and finally moves his finger, inch by inch sinking into your needy hole, your eyes squeezing shut as you clench around him. 

“So, so eager, princess,” he mumbles against your pussy, another breathy laugh causing you to thrust forward, his finger now completely inside of you. And, fuck, do you feel wonderful. So much better than anything Wonwoo had experienced before, better than anything he could have imagined. Perhaps, he figures, it’s because it’s you. 

Next thing you know, Wonwoo’s lips are around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking against it and leaving you to moan his name time and time again. Your hips move against him and he lets you, his cock straining against his pants in desperate need for attention. But not yet, he isn’t done with you. First, you’d have to come undone on his tongue and his fingers, first you had to scream his name as you experienced complete and utter satisfaction. Wonwoo does everything in his power for that to happen. He adds another finger and fucks you open, his long fingers meeting your sweet spot with every thrust as if he had studied your body for hundreds of hours. His tongue does the work of a god, his lips kiss you like you had never known you needed to be kissed, especially down there. 

“D-Don’t stop! Oh, fuck, Wonwoo!” You cry out, your head thrown back as you focus on nothing but your pleasure, on how he feels on your pussy, how it all is too much and yet not enough. You think about what’s to come, about how he will fuck you next, will sink into you with his cock, will make you feel like you’re the most precious woman on this planet. Even more than he already does. Your high is nearing, it’s so close you can feel it right there in front of you, that tight knot in your stomach about to break free and give you one of the most intense orgasms of your life. 

“Cum for me, baby. Fuck, I want you to cum on my tongue.” Wonwoo’s words are like magic, like a spell that he puts on you. A lewd whine escapes your throat and you do as he wishes, cumming all over his tongue and fingers, your juices drenching his face. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, anticipation filling him when he finally parts from you. 

Immediately, you pull down to kiss him when he stands. Tasting yourself on his lips with your hands opening his apron and getting it off his tall frame with his help, you can’t wait to get even closer to him. You slip out of your panties with his lips steadily on yours, a faint sound in your ears when they hit the floor.

“Need you so bad, Wonwoo, please hurry,” you cry out and he laughs, kissing your neck and your cheek, his hands opening his belt, zipper and button, shoving his pants down only for you to gasp at the sheer size of his bulge. He grins, hands back on your face to make sure you’re looking at him.

“Naughty, aren’t you? My perfect, pretty slut,” he kisses your lips again and your eyes roll back, your pussy throbbing in want. And obviously he knows how much you want him - he wants you just the same. As he continues to kiss you, he moves to pull his briefs down, his hard erection springing free, angry tip red and smeared with pre, oh-so ready to sink into your warm embrace. You part from him, eyes now setting on his cock, your mouth watering at the sight. 

“Fuck, you’re big,” you say, swallowing down the saliva pooling in your mouth. Wonwoo only grins wider, his big hands finding purchase on your hips as he leans down again. 

“Beg a little for it, baby, and you might get it.” You shiver and bite down on your lip, your hands wandering over his still clothed torso and down to his cock, slowly wrapping your hand around it.

“Please, Wonwoo, please fuck me…,” is your whispered plead, and the man standing in between your legs groans against your neck, sucking yet another mark into your delicate skin before nodding and grabbing his cock out of your hand, lining it up perfectly with your entrance and slowly sinking in.

His forehead is leaned against yours when he bottoms out and his hands caress your head, coming to a stop on your nape. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing the tip of your nose and you smile, giving the tip of his nose a kiss back. Then, he parts from you and the look in his eyes changes from soft to dark. He does his first thrust, catching you off guard, a loud moan escaping you. Your hands grab onto his shoulders as he continues his thrusts, fucking you deep and hard, his eyes focused on your face that contours in absolute bliss. When he said you’re beautiful, he meant it. 

He is holding onto your hips again, pulling you as close to him as he can, his hips chasing yours, his cock in the deepest bits of your pussy, your gummy walls squeezing him for his pleasure. There is nothing you can do besides begging him to go faster, begging him to not ever stop and crying his name when he leans down to suck on your hard nipple over your shirt. 

“Wonwoo! Fuck!” You clench over and over again, stars dancing in front of your eyes accompanied by beautiful lights that slowly but surely turn into fireworks. With every thrust of his hips, you feel yourself coming closer to the edge again. You want him to fill you, want him to claim you as his, make you feel full of him and only him. Nails are digging into his shoulders, your head falling back against the kitchen cabinet, his groans and the beautiful sound of your name coming out of his mouth chasing you off the cliff and into the warm waters of yet another intense orgasm. 

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, oh- Wonwoo!” It’s done, you are done, your climax hitting you hard and making you gush all over his length that is still so deeply buried inside your sensitive cunt. Wonwoo moans, feeling your pussy clench around him, squeeze him, beg him to cum, to decorate you in his shades of white. And he wants to, god, there is nothing he had ever wanted more. His breathing becomes labored and he leans forward, engulfing you in yet another heated kiss, one arm wrapped around you, the other letting its hand rest on your cheek, thumb caressing your chin as his tongue flicks against yours over and over, mixed with his breathless moans. 

When you squeeze him the next time, he erupts. He moans your name, hips becoming frantic as he shoots his load into you, spurts of white and hot cum filling your spent pussy, your and his combined releases dripping down your thighs even as he fucks his cum so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants against your mouth, continuing to kiss you right after, riding out his orgasm and only stopping when you’re both completely out of breath. 

It’s silent for a few moments, the only thing audible your almost synchronized breathing. Your hands are still on his shoulders, his hands are still on your waist and your cheek. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and he softly kisses your sweaty skin, nothing but pure happiness running through him at this point. He softly caresses your face as he leans back again, his eyes searching for yours. 

“Y/N,” he then breathes, a small and maybe even shy smile playing on his lips.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh back, pulling him into a hug that he accepts with a laugh, both his arms now fully wrapped around your body. He’s still inside of you and only leaves you when you part from the hug, more of his release now dripping out of your core. He doesn’t ask whether you’re on birth control because for all he cares he would love to have you pregnant with his child. The thought alone makes his head spin. 

“Well,” he begins, a smug smile on his face as he leans down to pick up your panties, “that definitely gives ‘cookies and cream’ a different meaning.” 

You stare at him, slightly bewildered, for around three seconds before you burst into laughter, grabbing your underwear from him and jumping back onto your shaky feet. “You’re horrible,” you say and shake your head and Wonwoo’s smile grows even wider.

“Maybe. But I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll never ever be horrible to you again.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that, Mr. Know-It-All,” you smile and give his cheek a peck that he reacts to by turning bright red. 

It is in that exact moment you realize Wonwoo was never your archnemesis. Nor has he ever been as much of an ass as you had made him out to be. Jeon Wonwoo is nothing but a loser who’s been in love with you since the very first day you met him, and perhaps you had always known. Perhaps you finally let yourself realize right now, the moment after he had cum inside of you and still blushes like a little kid when you kiss his cheek, that the only reason you had chosen him to be your rival was to run away from how much you knew you’d fall for him if you didn’t. 

“Come on, let’s do what we actually came here for.”

And for the rest of the day you and Wonwoo bake the cookies for the sale and talk about what your plans are for Valentine’s. To no surprise those plans immediately involve hanging out together. Maybe, you think, to give ‘cookies and cream’ that new meaning over and over again. 

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Burn Out

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you try to juggle hunting with school, but one day you just can’t do it anymore.

“Hey kid, we need you in the war room.”

The knock on your door followed by Sam’s voice had your head shooting up from its position on your notebook.

“What?” You mumbled under your breath, before you got your bearings. “Oh no…”

You looked down at the notebook in front of you—under the drool, there was a half-finished history report. It was due tomorrow, and you hadn’t been able to get started on it until an hour ago, because you and your brothers had been on a hunt. How could you have fallen asleep on it? You had to get this done!

“Y/N?” Sam knocked again. “Can you hear me?”

“I—yeah!” You closed your notebook—hunting was more important; people’s lives were more important. You could finish the report later. “I’m coming.”

…

“I think we should call it a night,” Dean said. You stole a glance at your watch as you put down the lore book that you weren’t even halfway through—it was almost 2 a.m.

“Good idea,” Sam agreed, slamming his own book shut and heading for his room.

“Go and get some sleep,” Dean told you, reaching over your shoulder and closing your book for you. “We can finish this tomorrow.”

You weren’t sure how that was possible, since tomorrow was a school day, but you didn’t argue with Dean. You stumbled back to your bedroom, heading not for your bed, but for your report.

…

You never did make it to your bed. You were pretty sure that you dozed a few times—or at least blinked really long—but you still ended up finishing your report in time.

As soon as it was done, you got yourself ready for school, taking a quick shower and hoping it was enough to make you look refreshed.

Your next stop was the kitchen; you were hoping you had enough time for some breakfast before Dean took you to school. Only, Dean wasn’t in the kitchen like he normally was. Curious, you checked the library, the war room, the shooting gallery, and finally the garage—not only were Sam and Dean not there, but neither was the Impala.

There were only a few options; a last-second hunt (except they would’ve told you they were going), the local library for more books (which hadn’t been necessary lately with all of the books in the bunker library), the grocery store (except the kitchen was fairly well stocked), or a diner for an excuse to get out of the bunker. You figured the last option was most likely—none of the others made sense, and the guys had to be stir-crazy after all the research. They must have wanted to let you sleep in, which meant they must also have forgotten you had school.

“It’s ok,” you mumbled to yourself. “I can still make it.” You’d have to skip breakfast, but if you ran you might still make it to class on time even without the Impala.

It was going to be a long day.

…

You didn’t make it in time, but you were fast enough to just get a tardy instead of an absence.

“Glad you could join us,” the teacher greeted as he gestured towards a seat—in the front.

You didn’t respond as you collapsed into the seat, reaching into your backpack to pull out your report when your phone buzzed.

Dean: Where r u?

So he had forgotten about school. He was probably too sleep-deprived to remember what day it was; you could relate to that. You were just typing out a response when you noticed a shadow over your desk.

“I’ll take your report,” your teacher stated, holding his hand out. “And your phone.”

“But I was just—“

“Your phone, please.”

You handed your phone and your report over without another word, hoping Dean would remember where you were on his own—the last thing you wanted was to freak him out.

“Now, if we’re done with distractions, we need to get started.”

…

You tried to get your phone back at the end of class, but your teacher assured you that—

“You’ll get it at the end of the day. Just stop by the office before you go home.”

—which was bad enough, but when he followed it up with—

“Oh, and I think you should take this back.” He held out your report.

“Wha—why?” You asked, your heart sinking.

“It was supposed to be three pages, not two. If you get it back to me tomorrow with three pages, I won’t have to dock as many points. I think it’s your best option.”

“Um—ok.” You took the report, hoping that you’d actually get the chance to get that third page by tomorrow.

“Just a page more,” your teacher said. “Maybe expound a little more on the individual paragraphs and you’ll be good. And try not to stay up too late doing it,” he added. “I’m guessing things have been pretty busy with you lately—you never used to forget stuff like this. Are you—“

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “I just…I have to get to class.”

You turned on your heel, and your teacher didn’t try to stop you. You knew he was just concerned about you, but in your life you couldn’t afford to have people be curious about you. It never turned out well.

And you just couldn’t take anything else going wrong.

…

You’d forgotten to bring your lunch or any money to buy some from the cafeteria, so you hid out in the bathroom for most of your lunch hour. You got told off by three separate teachers for dozing in class, and there was a pop quiz in the last period over reading that you hadn’t had time to do.

When the final bell rang, you couldn’t get out of your seat fast enough. You made a beeline for the office, hoping that your phone hadn’t been blown up with messages—hoping that Dean wasn’t freaking out.

You didn’t get a chance to find out; you’d forgotten to charge your phone last night, so by the time you picked it up from the secretary, it was dead.

“It’s fine it’s fine it’s fine,” you muttered to yourself over and over on the walk home. You would get home, your brothers would be fine, you’d take a little nap…

You opened the door to the bunker, but you didn’t make it halfway down the stairs before.

“Sam! She’s here!”

Dean caught you at the bottom of the stairs, his hands going to your shoulders, which he gripped tightly.

“What is wrong with you?! Where were you? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“Dean, I—“

Dean wasn’t listening.

“You can’t just disappear like that! Sam and I have been going insane! Of all the stupid, irresponsible things to do—“ Dean cut himself off, waving an angry hand in front of his face as if waving off the rant. He didn’t even notice the way your face was scrunching up, or the tears that were beginning to track down your cheeks. “You know what, forget about that. Forget about how you scared the crap out of us, and people are dying out there because we had to stop researching the hunt to look for you. Forget about how you made us think you coulda been dead. Where. Were. You?!” Dean’s grip was back on your shoulders, and he was shaking you. His face was tight with rage, his form towering over your own.

“I-I—“ your voice squeaked and broke, but Dean was still stiff with rage and waiting for your answer, so you tried again. Your voice was as tiny as you felt right now as you finally managed to choke out. “I was at school.” You didn’t notice the way Dean’s face changed—the anger melting from it as realization hit him like a train—because your eyes were too full of tears. “They—I—“ you wanted to tell him they took your phone, you wanted to tell him that you tried to find him before you left, you wanted to tell him you were doing your best…but you couldn’t. You couldn’t find it in you to give any excuses that could make him yell at you like that again. “I’m sorry, I…I’ll go help Sam with research.”

You ran past Dean, heading for the library.

“Dang it,” Dean mumbled under his breath, smacking the wall with his fist as he huffed. “So stupid, I’m so stupid!” He took a long moment to breathe, not wanting to look angry when he saw you again.

He had enough of a mess to fix already.

…

No one was in the library when you got there, so you went right to pulling books off the shelves.

After the first few books, you spotted one on a higher shelf. You were just reaching for it when you heard—

“Y/N!”

You turned around to see Sam heading right for you. You were already stumbling out an apology before he even reached you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I thought you—“ you were blubbering, having not stopped crying since your encounter with Dean. Sam noticed immediately and his approach slowed as his hands rose innocently.

“Whoa, hey, it’s ok, you’re ok.” Sam continued to step forwards, but that just made you feel cornered against the bookshelf, and you started to panic as you couldn’t make yourself stop crying.

“I’m sorry Sammy, I was at school, I’m gonna help you now, I’m sorry I’m sorry—“

You didn’t notice the books slipping from your hands until they clattered to the floor. Your hands were starting to shake, and your knees were shaking so hard that you had to slowly lower yourself in a crouching position on the floor before you fell. You tucked your head into your knees, finally letting out all the stress of the past weeks as you sobbed.

“Hey hey hey…” Sam knelt down next to you and grabbed onto your shoulders. “It’s ok, just take some deep breaths. You’re ok.”

You could hardly breathe between sobs, but you tried your best to listen to your big brother’s instructions.

“Kid?” Your head lifted just a little when you heard Dean’s voice. He joined Sam next to you. “Slow down, sweetheart. Breathe.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you whimpered, taking deep breaths between words. “They took my phone and I didn’t know what—“

“It’s ok, don’t explain,” Dean insisted. “Just keep taking deep breaths for me, ok?”

“Ok.” You sniffled, grabbing on to Dean’s offered hand and breathing slowly until your sobs subsided.

“Good, good.” Dean sat back on his heels, running a hand over his face. “I should’ve slowed it down, I should’ve known we were burning you out.”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “I thought maybe you would figure it out—I can help you now—“

“No, no” Sam interrupted. “This isn’t your fault, don’t apologize. And the research can wait—I think you should get some sleep.”

“And food,” Dean added. “Did you eat today?”

You rubbed your sleeve over your face, trying to stop your tears.

“You don’t have to baby me,” you said finally. “I-I can still help you guys.”

“Not today,” Sam countered. “And maybe not for a little while. We’ve been burning you out too much.”

“Look,” Dean added before you could argue. “Sometimes we can forget that you’re still just a kid, and you still have kid stuff to worry about—like school. That’s on us, not you. This isn’t your fault; we need to do better. And that starts with making sure you take care of yourself. So go get some food, and get some sleep. Everything else can wait, ok?”

You hesitated. “Ok.” You let your brothers help you to your feet, and then you couldn’t help yourself—you pulled Dean in for a hug, burying your head in his jacket. You felt his body shake a little as he chuckled.

“You’re ok kid,” he said, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“It’s ok,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Ok.” Dean was smiling as you pulled away. “Now get going.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[fancyfeathers]

Yandere Capitano thought

Genshin Impact 5.1 Archon Quest Spoiler Warning

So in act four of the Archon Quest we see that whole war and just the devastation it has on Natlan, over two thousand people who could not be resurrected. With Capitano lending his and his subordinates strength to the Pyro Archon it is only natural that he sees some of the most terrible of things in this war, including a very harrowing sight after he cleared out another group of monsters from the Abyss. It was near a remote farm house and he was going to help them evacuate to the stadium but he was far too late. When he goes to check the house everyone was dead, not a soul around except a young woman.

She was clearly not a fighter, crying, shaking and curled up in a corner while covered in the blood of her family. The image of this just sends him back five hundred years to all the people he could not protect, and this poor thing did not ask to be born in the nation of war and she clearly wants little to do with the traditions of her people with the pilgrimage and the night warden wars, so why should she be here?

The Captain does not have much time to dwell on her in the moment, just picking up the shocked girl and handing her off to his subordinates to get her to safety. Capitano had saved hundreds of people by that point but the people of Natlan had courage and she clearly did not, it just struck a chord with him.

He does not see her again until it is all over, while people are celebrating their victory, she is alone with no where to go and no one to be with, they were all dead. She is just sitting by herself while everyone else who fought is at least somewhat happy with their victory. Then Capitano overhears the words she speaks to another, one of the new heroes or perhaps the Archon herself…

“I wish I died with them.”

Her friends had started their future…

Her brothers and sisters were married or had their partners…

Her parents had each other…

But she has no one…

She is the only one left to mourn what happened to them, and no one there is there to truly comfort her because everyone else is busy or counting their own losses.

The Captain is able to recognize her potential self destructive behavior and is smart enough to have his subordinates keep a close eye on her after he heard that because there is just something about her…

Then the next time he sees her is when one of his subordinates drags her to him, she is crying and yelling at them to let her go and at first the Captain is irritated that his subordinate would handle her like this, well that is until he is told what happened.

She tried to join her family…

In death.

In her mind she has nothing left to live for, but thanks to this the Captain has found his something to give his life true meaning again, to protect her from rotting away.

(Just when I was adding the tags to this I remembered the song Flowers from Hadestown and it just fits so well with this idea)

[captainamericasmotercycle]

can I request a Cregan Stark fic with a Targaryen!reader (rhaenyra's daughters maybe?) where they were betrothed then married, and she is struggling to adjust to life in the north?

thank you for the request <333

warnings: reader is shorter than cregan, no physical features mentions except that reader has silver hair, readers father is unspecified, cregan is ginormous and i need to fuck him, allusions to smut, reader is a little homesick

When your betrothal to Lord Cregan Stark was announced, you dreaded it, you never wanted to marry. That was until you met him.

You expected him to be a cold and angry man, much like your step-father and uncle, Daemon, but he was nothing of the sort. Cregan was warm and welcoming and he did anything you had asked him to.

The only issue in the marriage, seemed to be you, well rather your struggle to adjust to your new home.

You had never even been to the North before your wedding, but even now after months of living there, you still felt alien to the foreign land.

It was much colder than your home on Dragonstone, nobody spoke your mother tongue, there weren’t any other dragons to congregate with Grey Ghost, everyone stared at your silver-locks, and the way of life tended to differ much from what you were used to.

You felt guilty for not being adjusted to the North yet, after all, Cregan brought you to the North to protect you from the impending war; gave you and Grey Ghost a home, (building a large, warm enclosure for him); provided food to eat; and expressed unconditional love and service.

You spent most of your days inside of Winterfell, staying within the warmth, occasionally visiting your dragon. Cregan has been nothing but helpful towards you, and you fear you’ve only shown hostility back.

This morning, you woke alone, something you were not used to. You dressed yourself and started your hunt for your husband. After looking in the library, the dining hall, and his study, you could’t find him anywhere.

Stopping a handmaiden in the hall, you asked of his whereabouts, only to be met with a headshake.

You tried to retire to your room, but upon your arrival, you found Cregan sitting on the edge of your bed.

He smiled and walked towards you, “I have been hoping to find you wandering around Winterfell.”

“I have been looking everywhere for you.”

He came to hold you around your waist, looking down on your face, “I though we could go out today… I could show you around the town, you could learn a little of the North.”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you only wanted to spend time with him, and you really did not want another reason to feel out of place in your new home.

He had you dressed warmly, with the approching winter coming, you needed every layer possible. He held the small of your back and guided you through the market.

It was swarmed with many adults and children alike, all shopping for something different.

As you and Cregan walked, everyone around nodded regally at you. Small children gawked at your hair, prompting you to pull your hood up.

Cregan led you to some of his favorite stands; you tried your best to read the signs, but you were unfamiliar with the Northern language. The more time you spent out, the more you wanted to return to your home on Dragonstone.

By the sixth stand, Cregan noticed your discomfort, “Shall we return?”

You looked at him and smiled, “No, it is alright, I’m fine.”

He shook his head at you, “No, we will go.”

He thanked all of the stand merchants, and led you back to the horses. The ride home was silent.

During supper, you sat across from your husband, “Tell me… do you like it here?”

The sudden question startled you, you shot your head up, “I— I do.”

“You seem hesitant, why?”

“I do like it here.”

“You only make it less believable. Tell me the truth, love, I do not wish to command it out of you.”

“I just miss home is all… I feel out of place here.”

“Why?”

“I do not know your language, or your traditions. I was meerly lost at the market, looking at all of the unfamiliar tools.”

Cregan stood from his place at the table, coming to kneel beside you, “Why did you not tell me, my girl?”

“I just— I suppose I felt that I should not bother you with such menial things. I figured I could do it alone.”

He took your hands in his, “Nothing about you is menial. You know I would do anything for you.”

“I know but you have other duties to attend to—”

“And yet none of them are more important than you.”

He stand and kisses you sweetly.

“I will teach you everything, I only wish you had announced your insecurities sooner. I will teach you the language, the tools, the traditions. You are a Northern Lady now, and I want to make sure you feel as if you have always been one.”

You couldn’t have asked for anything sweeter than him. Suddenly you fears seemed to subside as he showed you how much he loved you.

“Thank you, Cregan. I appreciate you more than you know.”

Smiling rather darkly, he pulled you from your chair, he flipped you over his shoulder with ease, “Our first lesson shall be how a Northern man pleases his lady wife.”

You giggled as he carried you back to your chambers.

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

The Prince - Chapter Six

A/N: Hello hello! Here I am with more pain for you, my friends! Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your support on this fic! We are over halfway done with the story and I hope you all stick it out until the end. As always, keep the likes, reblogs, and comments coming, and let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 4.3k Synopsis: Jace and the reader bask in the glow of finally acting on their feelings, only for that light to be stomped out as Jeyne arrives in King's Landing and Baela learns of their relationship.

Tag List: Hi all, it seems like the taglist is being wonky (thanks tumblr) so instead of tagging you all here, I'll tag you in the comments, that way I know it actually gives you the notification!

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Jace awakes early that next morning, his first thoughts immediately of you. As he dresses for the day, he is thinking only of ways to steal a moment alone with you, and what he’ll do when he does. He passes one of the servants on his way out the door, foregoing the breakfast they are bringing in.

He moves down the hallway quickly, no particular plan in mind, except to run into you somehow. However, when he turns down the next hallway from his own, it’s not your face he sees, but his mother’s.

“Jace,” she says with a smile, “You’re up early.”

“Yes,” he says, stopping in front of her. She brushes a hand to his cheek, studying his face for a moment.

“Any particular reason for your early morning?” she asks. The look in her eye says that she suspects but is giving him the opportunity to deny the events of last night.

“Just eager to start the day,” he says with a half-smile. She nods her head, completely disbelieving him.

“I’ve given thought to your request,” she says, taking his arm in hers. He walks in pace with her, towards her council chambers. “I want to give you my blessing, Jace. You have proven yourself time and again, especially during the war, to be a perfect heir. You deserve to be happy,” she says, looking at him.

“So why can’t you?” he asks.

“Baela,” she says simply.

“Our family is already well connected with the Velaryons, through your marriage to Daemon,” he says, “What advantage to our line is there if we marry?”

“She fought alongside me as well,” Rhaenyra says. “She expects to be queen. She's earned it.”

“I know,” Jace says on a sigh.

“I can’t in good conscience cut her out like that,” she says. They fall into silence for a moment as they near the council door. “Has something happened, Jace?” she asks. “You seem . . . changed.”

“I am,” he says with a smile. She searches his face with a furrowed brow.

“I will keep considering it,” she says, “I don’t want to hurt you, or Baela. I am afraid that whichever way I chose, I am heading towards that path, anyhow.”

“Baela doesn’t want to marry me either,” he says. Rhaenyra gives him a disbelieving look. “Really. She feels the same as me.”

“If that’s the case, I will happily relieve you of this betrothal. But I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Jace,” she says, “Baela would be giving up the crown, not just you.”

“What are you smiling about?” Joffrey asks.

“What?”

“You’re smiling,” he says, gesturing towards the wall you had been staring at. “At nothing.”

“Sorry,” you say, averting your gaze from him, and back to the book in front of you. Joffrey had requested your aid in helping him learn about his future seat, Driftmark. You have maybe read a page, so distracted are your thoughts.

“Did something happen?” he asks, leaning in closer. His eyes meet yours. “With Jace?”

“What?” you ask quick, shaking your head. “Of course not.”

“Your blush says otherwise,” Joffrey says.

“Why are we talking about me at all?” you ask, “I thought we were learning about . . .” You glance down at the book in front of you, picking the first word you read, “High Tide.”

“Tell me what you know about the building of High Tide,” Joffrey says, a smug look on his face. You open your mouth, planning to bullshit your way through an answer, but Joffrey starts laughing. You roll your eyes, trying to hide your own smile.

“Just tell me what happened,” he says.

“Nothing happened!” you say, a bit too loudly. You both peer around the library, making sure no one turned their attention to the two of you. When you’re sure they haven’t, you say again, “Nothing happened.”

“I’ll pretend to believe you,” Joffrey says, sitting back in his chair. For the next ten minutes, you sit in quiet, actually reading the words in front of you, just to ensure that Joffrey can’t catch you daydreaming again. He is the first to break the silence.

“Hello, brother,” he says. You exhale through your nose, not lifting your head.

“Not funny, Joff,” you mutter.

“Good day, Y/N.” You lift your head, a blush already forming across your cheeks, as you see Jacaerys standing next to you.

“Your Highness,” you say breathlessly. Jace has a smile on his face that he seems to be trying to hide. Joffrey looks between the two of you, a giddy look spreading across his face.

“Right,” he says, looking to you, “Nothing happened.” You glare at him, but Jace only laughs at his brother.

“What brings you to the library, brother?” Joffrey asks.

“I wanted to see how your studies are going,” Jace says with a shrug.

“I am here every day,” Joffrey says, “You’ve never once come to check upon me.”

“Well then, all the better I’m here now,” Jace says, his hand nervously clutching the pommel of his sword.

“Lady Y/N could tell you better than I,” Joffrey says, “She’s just read up on the forming of High Tide.” Their attention turns to you, and all you can do is glare daggers at Joffrey.

“I regret ever offering to help you,” you say, flipping the page back to High Tide.

“As do I,” he says, “You’ve been of no help.”

“You’re right,” you say, closing the book, “I’ve been a distraction.”

“You have,” he says, smirking, “But really, I think it’s more my brother’s fault than your own.”

“Joff,” Jace warns.

“You both should probably leave and attend to other matters,” he says with a wave of his hand. You are equally annoyed and enamored to him. He can clearly see that something has changed, and although he is being a jerk, it is for the two of you.

“Good luck with your studies, My Prince,” you say, standing. Jace is suddenly so much closer than you realized, and you both take a step back quickly. Joffrey lets out a tut of laughter.

“Can you put these back?” he asks, gesturing to the books littering the table. “I’m sure Jace would be happy to help you.” You exchange a look with Jace that sends dragon fire to you.

“You are incorrigible,” you mutter to Joffrey, picking up all the books. “I don’t really need your help, Your Highness,” you say to Jace. He gives you a small smile and nods.

“I’d like to help, nonetheless. At the very least to show you that not all the princes are as horrible as this one,” he says, glaring at Joffrey. The younger boy just smiles.

Jace follows you down the long hallway in between the stacks. You keep your back ramrod straight, as if just his close proximity sends a chill over you. You turn down the aisle where the books initially came from, and Jace takes the books from you seamlessly. One by one, you put them back in their respective spaces.

“What was he on about?” Jace asks quietly.

“Just being insufferable,” you say with a smirk.

“About what though?” he asks, a smile on his face to match your own. You look down for a moment, laughing to yourself. Jace takes your hand in his own, drawing your eyes up to his.

“He thought something might have happened between us,” you whisper, the smile never leaving your face.

“I see.”

“Obviously, I told him he was imagining things.”

“Is he?” Jace asks, a playful look on his face. Slowly, he leans in closer, his lips just brushing against yours. You sigh into the kiss, into the taste of him that you have craved since last night. A hand to his shirt, you pull him into you. Jace grips your waist, smiling against your mouth as he presses you into the stack of books.

At that moment, the library becomes your new favorite spot in the castle. Secluded in the rows of books, no one hears the slight whimper you make when Jace kisses along your neck. The shelves are so abandoned, the sound of Jace’s frustration when you break away from him, your teeth pulling on his lower lip as you do, is heard only by you. He lets out a breath, laughing softly.

“What?” you ask.

“I’ve never needed someone like this before,” he says.

“Me either,” you say. His hands and yours are still on each other.

“Joffrey is going to be very smug if we’re back here any longer,” you say.

“Let him,” Jace says, kissing your lips again.

For the next few days, every moment you and Jace can find to get your hands on each other, you take. Whether its meeting him in the dark hallways that lead to the sparring grounds, pulling you into a servant’s hallway, or your midnight meetings in your quarters, you can’t seem to get enough of him. All thoughts of suitor hunting have fled your mind.

Sometimes, after he leaves your quarters, or when you’re returning to your own, guilt seeps into you. Not only are you not doing what Jeyne requested, but you are going behind the backs of the family who brought you here. At night, you tell yourself that it must be the last, until you see Jace the next day. It was true – he was ruining you – but you were gladly letting him.

Jace lips are on yours the next day. Even though you spent the night before together, your need to be with him only seems to be growing.

“Y/N,” Jace says against your mouth.

“What?” you ask, in between kisses.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning back from you.

“Nothing,” you say, reaching for him. He takes your hand but stays back from you.

“You can tell me anything,” he says, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin.

“I know,” you say.

“So, tell me," he says. You sigh, looking down at your entwined hands.

“I love you,” you begin, “And I love being with you, but I also know that we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Y/N,” he says softly, pulling you closer. “There might still be a way this all works out.”

“Maybe,” you say, giving him a soft smile, “Logically, though, I know there is a greater chance that this all burns down around us.”

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, his eyes filled with pain.

“Not at all,” you whisper. You brush a hand over his face, bringing your lips together.

“I love you,” Jace says when he breaks away, “I’m not going to give you up without a fight.”

Jeyne arrives later that same day. You had know of her arrival for months now, but still her presence surprises you. Too long, your thoughts had lied only with Jace, and unfortunately, Jeyne had fallen to the back of your mind.

Queen Rhaenyra invites you both to a dinner with her family, wanting to officially thank Jeyne for sheltering her sons and Rhaena during the war. Seeing her makes you realize how much you’ve missed her.

As always, she is the center of attention, regaling the group with stories from the Vale, embarrassing anecdotes about you, Rhaena, and the boys. Multiple times in the evening, you catch her eyes lingering on you for a long moment, or glancing between you and Jace. You even catch her looking at Balea, looking to see if the princess can see what Jeyne herself was seeing quite clearly.

“So,” Jeyne says, flopping into a chair in your quarters after dinner, a smile on her face, “Tell me of all the excitements of King’s Landing.”

“I think you saw a great deal of it tonight.”

“Yes, I did notice some things,” she says, meeting your eyes with a knowing look. You try to hold it for a moment but too quickly have to look away. “The prince’s attentions seem to not have strayed from you."

“You think so?” you ask, sitting in the chair next to hers.

“Everyone at that table should think so, I presume. What they might not have noticed, though, was the look you gave the prince in return.”

“Jeyne,” you say quietly, a smile growing on your face. She furrows her brow at you, studying your face, until her face clears and a grin grows instead.

“You return his affections?” she asks.

“Yes,” you say, whisper soft. This is the first time you have been able to voice these feelings aloud, other than with Jace.

“Y/N!” she says excitedly, taking your hand in hers. “Your letters hinted that you were enjoying his attentions more than you had in the Vale, so I thought it was a possibility, but then your letters started coming less and less.”

“I’m sorry about that,” you say, “Things just got away from me.”

“Clearly,” she says with a cocked eyebrow. “So, what has happened between you two?”

“I love him, Jeyne,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “I don’t know how it happened, I was fighting it for so long and then sort of all at once I couldn't, but . . . I love him,” you say with a shrug, meeting her eyes. There is nothing but happiness on her face.

“Well, I can’t blame you for your changed feelings,” she says, “He has had quite the transformation since he came to the Vale.”

“He has,” you say, heat growing along your cheeks.

“Does anyone else know?” she asks.

“Joffrey, I think. Mostly, he’s just suspiciously accurate,” you say. “And, the prince has at least told the queen of his affections for me.”

“He means to break his betrothal?” Jeyne asks, her face immediately changing with interest.

“It won’t happen,” you say with a shake of your head. Suddenly, the fear from before is back, the crippling guilt.

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“Rhaenyra is not going to cut her husband’s daughter from the throne,” you say, “No matter how much she loves Jace.”

“Jace,” Jeyne says with a smile at the casual way you say his name. You let out a breath of laughter. “Does Rhaena not know then? Baela?”

“Neither of them knows,” you say. “Which has left me feeling awful, after all the work they’ve gone through to try and find me an appropriate suitor.”

“They have to be blind, to not see the way he looks at you,” she says. “I noticed it the very moment I met him, and again, when I arrived here. He loves you.”

“Regardless, the betrothal to Baela remains.”

“Well, how about the pursuits of your own?” she asks. “Anyone standing out?”

“No,” you say. “Not like Jace, and ever since I gave into these feelings, I have completely forgone the mating hunt.” A strange look passes over Jeyne’s face, one that dulls her good mood, but before you can ask about it, she jumps up from her seat.

“We need wine. This is the first I have seen you in months,” she says, gesturing to your lady’s maid. “And I only want to hear about the good.”

“Jeyne,” you start.

“No details until we have wine,” she says. When it is brought to the two of you, you thank Brigitta and pour the both of you a glass. Once Jeyne’s is in hand, she takes a hearty drink.

“So, tell me everything.”

The next morning, you are still feeling the effects of the wine. You forgot how much she likes to drink, and it has been a long time since you've kept up with her. Regardless of that, you feel lighter that morning. Keeping Jace a secret had been eating at you, and even though nothing had changed about the circumstances, you felt better just voicing your feelings.

You get out of bed, the morning light just beginning to pool into the room. You hear a soft snoring, and turn to your couch, where Jeyne had fallen asleep the night before. You had completely forgotten she was here, but just the sight of her makes you smile.

Brigitta enters into the room, startling you slightly, but a welcome addition altogether.

“Good morning, My Lady,” she says.

“Good morning, Brigitta,” you say. “I think we’ll need a few extra pastries this morning,” you say, rubbing your forehead. “And maybe that tonic from the Maester.”

“Of course, My Lady,” she says, “Before I fetch that though, I should tell you that the prince is waiting at your door."

“He’s what?” you ask in shock, a smile creeping its way across your face.

“At the door,” Brigitta repeats, with maybe a ghost of a smile on her own face. You move quickly towards the door, swinging it open so fast, it startles Jace.

“Sorry,” you say.

“That’s alright,” he says, looking between you and Brigitta, who is standing behind you. She shuffles by the two of you once you step out of the way. You beckon Jace into your room, making to tell him of Jeyne’s presence, but before you can, he grabs hold of you, wrapping you in his arms. His face burrows into your neck. You squeeze him just as tightly.

“Hi,” you say, when he pulls back enough to look at you.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” you say, “It’s been so long that we haven’t spent the night together.”

“It was torturous,” Jace says. You laugh as you lean in to kiss him softly.

“Believe me, it was good to catch up with Jeyne, but I agree, it was quite torturous without you.”

“Glad to hear it.” You both snap your heads in the direction of Jeyne, who is sitting up on the couch, a smirk on her face. “Good morning, Your Highness,” she says to Jace. He is blushing furiously but nods his head to her.

“Lady Arryn.”

“You two are very beautiful together,” she says with a smile, “And I hate to part you, but I should remind you that Rhaena is meeting us for breakfast this morning.”

“I completely forgot,” you say, breaking from Jace’s arms. “You need to leave.” You begin to usher him towards the door, Jace laughing and coming up with half-hearted excuses to stay. At the door, he turns back to say something else or kiss you, but you only look at him sympathetically as you shut the door in his face.

“Thank you for reminding me about Rhaena,” you say, sitting down in the chair across from Jeyne. Brigitta walks in a minute later, a tray of pastries in her hand, and a pot of tea. You pour a cup for yourself and another for Jeyne, but she waves you off.

“Tell me, what did you mean by spend the night together?” Jeyne asks. “Don’t tell me you’ve bedded him.”

“Jeyne!” you scold, your cheeks flaming. “Of course we haven’t.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?" you ask in disbelief. "Because I am to be married, and most likely that husband is not going to be Jace.”

“Men can’t tell if you’ve done it before,” she says with a shrug. “Also, by the way he looks at you, he wants to badly.”

“It doesn’t matter if he does,” you say, taking a greedy, anxious bite of a pastry.

“It’d be good, I reckon,” she says, continuing, completely oblivious to your growing shame, and the fact that the door opened on the opposite end of the room. “With how much he loves you, he’d do you right.”

“You are shameless.”

“What is there to be shameful about!” she declares with a laugh. “Just sleep with him!”

“Stop it,” you say with a shake of your head.

“Why? I’m the one that saw your love from the start! That puppy dog look never left, it just got hornier, and it spread over to you, too.”

“What are you talking about?” Rhaena asks.

She stands in the entry way of your chambers, a smile on her face. She thinks this is another one of Jeyne’s jokes, that she’s talking about one of the suitors that she looked so hard to find for you. This is your worst fear coming true, and you see it all happening before it does. No gods come to stop it, no matter how hard you beg.

“Rhaena,” you say, standing quickly. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Clearly,” she says. “Were you talking about . . . Jace?” she asks, looking between the two of you. “Joffrey said Jace was acting differently,” she says, brow furrowed, “He was teasing him, about falling in love. A puppy dog look . . .” she ponders, “They were referring to you.”

“He’s not in love with me,” you say quietly, knowing it’s a lie. Jeyne focuses her attention into her cup of tea.

“I know we used to joke about it,” Rhaena says, shaking her head. “I just never thought . . .”

“I promise you, nothing has come of our feelings,” you say, speaking too quickly to realize that you’ve slipped, in trying not to do so. Before you can correct yourself, Rhaena takes a step back.

“’Our’ feelings?” she repeats.

“Rhaena, I . . . What’s going on with Jace, it’s . . .” You give up trying. There is no explanation, because you can’t explain to yourself what’s going on with him. There are no steps to the dance you two are doing, no instructor to stop you from waltzing to your destruction.

“I need to go,” she says softly. “Good day, Lady Arryn.” She only gives you a look in parting as she walks back out through the doorway. You watch the closed door for too long, regret seeping into your bones.

“She’ll get over it,” Jeyne says, gently.

“She’s going to tell Baela!” you say, spinning to face her.

“If she doesn’t already know, she’s going to make a terrible wife,” she says with a sad laugh. You look at her in confusion, which makes her laughter stop. “Every nobleman cheats on his wife. If she doesn’t see it coming, she’s the one at fault.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say. About them both.”

“You think you’re the first wrong girl a prince ever fell for? It is an age-old story. They are bound by duty, they’ll produce heirs, but their hearts and their cocks still lie within the ones they truly loved,” she says sagely.

“And what happens to the girl?” you ask, “The one they really loved?” Jeyne looks at you for a long moment, her face falling even further. She swallows before speaking.

“Lord Blacktyde is a bachelor again,” she says softly. "His wife . . . died under mysterious circumstances."

“What?” you ask, your voice dropping as you do, too, into the seat across from her.

“I just got word a few days ago. I thought about writing, but it felt like something better shared in person."

“Of course,” you say with a shake of your head.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Jeyne," you say. "How long ago?"

"My source thought maybe two months back. Obviously, they've kept details about her death quiet," she says. She sighs as she meets your eyes. "I'm afraid he'll come looking for you again."

“I should be able to protect those of my house,” she says firmly, her eyes watering. “If he does come, I will do everything in my power to keep you from going with him. I won't stop--"

“I know you won’t,” you say carefully. “I'm so foolish for not finding a match quicker, we knew this was a possibility, I—”

“No, you are not foolish. At all.” She looks at you plainly for a long moment. “Fuck the prince, Y/N. You might never get the chance to be fucked by a man who loves you as much as he does. You deserve it at least once.”

“What about Baela? About—”

“What could she do?” she asks with a sad shrug. What fate, worse than Blacktyde, could she sentence you to, her words seem to mean. “She’ll get to fuck him her whole life. Only fair to give you a turn.”

Baela and Rhaena are standing in your room, talking in low, urgent whispers, when you return to your quarters, that night. When the door creaks open, they quiet and look at you. Rhaena’s expression is anxious, her eyes wide and watery. Baela’s is the exact opposite. Dragon fire is ablaze in her eyes, and you are smart enough to be nervous.

“Before you say anything,” you say, “I just want you to know that—”

“I don’t wish to hear what you have to say,” Baela says quickly. "No more lies, Y/N."

“I never lied to you,” you say. She lets out a tut of laughter.

“Maybe not to my face, but you certainly went behind my back with Jace.” You say nothing, because apologizing won’t do anything right now. “I don’t have to remind you of what the kingdom has just gone through. Another fight for the crown will end us all, I fear.”

“I want no fight, Baela. Jace and I haven’t done anything. They are feelings only, and ones I do not wish to act on.”

“Why not?” she asks, her eyes narrowing.

“What?”

“Why don’t you wish to act on them?” she asks. You scrunch your eyebrows, but shake your head.

“Because I care about you and your sister,” you say, looking to Rhaena. “And because I know that no matter what, I am not good enough for the prince, and never will be.” Baela studies you for a long moment, some of her anger washing away.

“The prince and I need to sort things out,” she says, when she does speak again. “I think it’d be better if you weren’t here when we do.”

“What?” you ask, panic shooting through your body. You look to Rhaena.

“I don’t want you in the Red Keep anymore,” Baela says, lifting her chin regally. “But seeing as Lady Jeyne Arryn is here, I will not send you home. Dragonstone should be a fine location until we can get this all settled.”

[umnitsa]

Dirty old man

Summary: Joel is on his seventies, but he still has needs.

A/N: Ok, so. One pic made the rounds in one of the discord servers I frequent and it made me wild, I won't lie (it was a pic/meme with aged Pedro Pascal). Highly inspired by @toxicanonymity's GILF!Joel (mine is a bit of a perv, but this isn't really a dark fic). It was also inspired by @atticrissfinch's MMITB (I wish I had a fraction of her talent for dirty talk, but I'm not even a native speaker of English, so I do what I can). Now you go read them both, I ASSURE YOU it'll be a good time. Huge thanks for all the people that cheered me on with this: Toxi, @romanarose, @beefrobeefcal, @gwendibleywrites, I love you all. (I must admit that I don't know if I'll ever continue this, honestly, although part of me wants to get to the sex scene. xD)

Pairing: No outbreak old man!Joel x Reader

CW: Joel being bold, dirty talk. That's it <3

No beta, we die like lonely writers xD

It wasn’t a bad job.

Sarah wanted to hire you to take care of her father, Joel. He wasn’t that old, but years of hard work in construction gave him some mobility issues. Sarah worried he spent too time alone, and that he could fall, get hurt and trapped without help because of his pride (which seemed to be a real possibility, considering Joel didn’t want to lose his independence in any way).

You were supposed to get the night shift, which was nice. The night shift was calm, except when it wasn’t. Sarah assured you she talked to her father, she wanted to introduce you to him, before you started working.

You prepared for war, if the man was as stubborn and grumpy as his daughter described.

Sarah introduced you and the old man looked at you over his glasses.

“You sure this pretty thing can lift me off the floor?” He asked, a crooked smirk stretching his lips. You considered answering him, but he raised his face defiantly and winked.

He was teasing his daughter.

You chuckled, to Joel’s delight. Sarah hired you on the spot.

***

Joel was grumpy most of the time. You could understand. Getting older was specially hard on some people. Losing their independence seemed to be a horrifying blow.

You admired the family pictures displayed on the walls and the bookshelves. They showed a younger Joel, large and proud, wearing tight tshirts that showed his big arms.

He didn’t change much, to be honest. His hair now was completely silver, as his beard. The wrinkles didn’t spoil his roguish smile. He was on his seventies, but looked younger, somehow. You blamed his brown eyes.

***

“You know what I miss most about my youth?” He said softly one day, entering the living room. You were looking at his pictures. He slowly moved by your side and placed a hand over your back, rubbing gentle circles. “All the pussy.”

You turned to him, astonished at his boldness. He smirked, then shrugged. You felt your face getting warm and a different, slick, syrupy warmth pooling on your lower belly. He licked his lips and sighed.

“It was easy to get pussy with those looks.” He pointed at one picture of himself and smiled proudly. “Didn’t fuck as much as I wanted, or as much as I could. Tried to be a good dad. Don’t regret anything, but... Oh boy, I miss it.” He looked you up and down, his smile turning appreciative.

“Thought old pervs like you liked tiny thin teenagers.” You scoffed.

“Only dumbasses want those.” Joel chuckled, his hand sliding lower on your back. “I like them older. Like you. With those eyes, like you know and did everything under the sun.” Joel hums, closing his eyes. “Get them cockdumb and they cry so sweetly… Mmmm, the surprise in their wide eyes...” He licks his lips, watching your reaction. You laugh, trying to hide your own arousal.

“Well, Joel, I think the preference is because they are supposed to be tight.” You said firmly, standing your ground. You refused to look shocked, and you saw no reason to scold him, at least not yet. Maybe it was your pussy talking.

Joel leaned over you slowly; you stayed very still. His warm breath tickled your ear.

“After a certain size, honey, everything feels tight.” He said softly, grabbing his half hard cock through his pants. You looked down and gasped, noticing the girth of his bulge inside his huge hand. Joel stepped back, smiling proudly, and moved into the house, dragging his feet. “Lemme know if you want a ride, sweetheart. Them blue pills are easy to get.” He turned and winked at you.

[nthspecialll]

I think we sometimes as a fandom tend to hyper-focus on certian characters' backgrounds simply because we like the character when in reality other characters who might not be as interesting has way better backstories, because no, Javier, Arthur and John are not the only ones with sad backstories

Like why does no one talk about what happened to Leopold's sister? Why does no one talk about young Lenny tracking down and killing folk? Why does no one talk about Javier actually in a way working for the government for a while and the reason why he killed that powerful military man? Why does no one talk about why Dutch is called Dutch and not by his actual first name? Why does no one talk about Bill's worst childhood fear coming true? Why does no one talk about both Swanson and Micah saving Dutch's life or that Tilly is also a murderer?

Anyways here is a full explanation of all the Van Der Linde gang members backstories.

Sean MacQuire

Sean Macquire and his father lived in Ireland possibly with more family but had to flee because the English (who were at the time in charge of ireland) were chasing them. They fled for their lives and they were in Boston for a month before his dad was shot in his sleep, showing the remaining Sean that there was truly no honor or shame in the world.

He was then sent to a reform school, which we all know was abusive and a living hell, so he ran, living as a low-life thief, he was a teenager, when he in a bar somewhere in North Elizabeth saw Dutch and Hosea and liked Dutch's watch. He followed the two into an alleyway and threatened them at gunpoint, however they laughed at him and told him to shoot, so he did, except the two others had noticed him first and taken the bullets from his gun. Sean started crying, thinking they were going to kill him but instead of doing that they gave him a home, a place to belong.

Lenny Summers

Lenny's grandparents as well as parents were slaves and his mother was born on a cotton field and taken away from his grandmother, who hadn't even known she was pregnant, immediately. His grandmother was then told to simply get back to work.

After the civil war, the old overseer kept making advandages towards Lenny's grandmother, to a point that in the end she needed to kill him and just barely escaped being lynched. Lenny's mother never saw the grandmother again.

Lenny's mother later met Mr Summers who was an educated man and taught Lenny to both read and write, however when Lenny was 15, his dad was beaten to death by several drunk men. Lenny stole a gun, tracked and hunted down the men, shooting them and showing no remorse even years later.

Kieran Duffy

Kieran Duffy's father was an Irishman who came to America with a dream of farming. It was there that he met Kieran's mother and not long after having Kieran, they both passed due to Cholera and not shortly after that the stables that he worked at to support himself threw him out. He decided to join the army to support himself but it didn't last long before he quit due to it "not working out well."

After returning from the army, he fell into work with a bunch of unnamed outlaws, though they all passed away, leaving him alone once again.

At some point he ran into the O'Driscolls who gave him a choice, to ride with them or to get killed, esencially forcing him to join them and work as a stable hand for them, though he was at the bottom of the latter simply working with the horses before being kidnapped by Arthur Morgan and joining the Van Der Linde gang.

Leopold Strauss

Leopold Strauss was born into severe poverty in Austria and his family struggled heavily with food. By the time that Strauss was only twelve, his older brother was beating up nightwatch men for whatever cash and food scraps they had on them. By that time Strauss's father had already sold his younger sister Anna, by the age of nine, into bonded labour to be able to provide for the rest of the family.

When Stauss was seventeen he was sent with his uncle to the US due to health problems, however the hellish sight of Brooklyn gave Strauss's uncle a heart attack on the spot, leaving Strauss alone in a forgein country. To survive he began doing illegal money scams and after doing so for years Dutch picked him up.

Tilly Jackson

Tilly Jackson was the daughter of a slave and became an outlaw by the mere age of twelve, running with a gang called the Foreman brothers who kidnapped her but after murdering the leaders cousin after he made advandages on her, she had to flee. She returned to her mothers workplace but found that she had already passed.

Later Tilly ran into Dutch Van Der Linde and as he was already taking care of John Marston and Arthur Morgan, he took her in, becoming just as much as a father figure to her as to the boys.

Micah Bell

Micah Bell was born directly into a life of crime as his father Micah Bell jr was a petty but ruthless and violent outlaw. Already when Micah was 17 him and his father were on run from the law as they had slid Jean and Roscoe Briggs throats and later hung them as well. His father was also his primary partner in crime, however he also seemed to have teamed up with his brother Amos a few times as well, however Amos regretted his past life and started a proper one with wife and children and threatened to kill Micah if he came close.

Micah had several partners in crime later in life, including Joe and Cleet who appears later in the game, as well as a fellow named Norman.

Micah runs into Dutch Van Der Linde in 1898 in a bar as Dutch is trying to sell some stolen goods, however the deal doesn’t work out and Micah steps in to help Dutch and save his life, earning a place in the gang.

Bill Williamson

Bill Williamson, also known as Marion Williamson, was born into an abusive family with a father who lost his mind to alchohol, even going to the point of mixing moonshine with whiskey. Watching this Bill always feared falling in love with liquor and suffering the same fate.

Bill always showed signs of being more of a troubled kid and being sent to a reform school did not stop him from building s solid criminal record as a kid.

Bill would later apply to the military and serve in the 15th infantry, fighting against the native americans before being dishonorably discharged for deviancy and attempted murder in 1892. For a year after he lived rough, truly falling in love with liqour and stealing from people om the side of the roads, one time being robbed himself by a "woman" (likely a cross dresser or genderqueer person).

In 1893 Bill tried to rob Dutch and got angry as the man simply laughed at him, however he calmed down as he was allowed a spot in the Van Der Linde gang.

Daniel(?) "Dutch" Van Der Linde

Dutch's mother was an english woman named Greta and his father a dutch man who lived somewhere near Philadelphia who fought in the civil war and died, which is why Dutch hated southeners.

Dutch's nickname rumors to come from his father's desperate attempt at keeping touch with his ancerstory.

When he was 15, he left home due to troubles with his mother whom he never got along with and simply saw him as a disobedient and troubled kid. He wished for freedom above all so to gain this he started a life of crime and in mid 1870 met Hosea Matthews.

(Second edit: I am not 100% sure Daniel is his true name, thus the ?, however I found it on his wiki page and added it)

Hosea Matthews

Hosea was born in around 1844 and lived the majority of his earlier life in the mountians, growing to love fishing and hunting. His father was mostly absent, living a life of "sin and debauchery that would make an emperor blush." Hosea saw his dad only about three times in his life but loved him none the less.

He tried to make his way with comedy as a stage actor, however he turned to petty thieft, stealing from his audience and later others in town. He was caught by the sheif stealing a chicken and sentenced to be hanged. Luckiy for Hosea the town folk saw it as a punishment too cruel and a riot broke out which ended with someone shooting the noose around Hosea's neck, allowing him to flee.

Mid 1870 Hosea found Dutch sitting by a campfire and decided to rob him, however found that Dutch had already robbed him. Hosea feared for a moment for his life but it ended with the two of them laughing it off and teaming up.

Molly O'Shea

Molly O'Shea was born into a wealthy Irish family, set up to live a proper and educated life, however she quickly got bored and showed little interest in the life set up for her, so she ran off to America in search of adventure and excitment. At some point she ran into Dutch Van Der Linde and found an interest in him and his life style, only to later genuiently fall in love with him.

Arthur Morgan

Arthur Morgan was born to Beatrice and Lyle Morgan in northen US. His mother died in his early life and he never really got along with his father whom there are rumors was abusive. Lyle lived a life of petty crime and was arrested and executed. Arthur saw his father die and although not having the best relationship, Arthur kept his father's hat and picture.

In 1877 Arthur was 14 and a wild delinquent. He ran into Dutch and Hosea, being picked up and taken under their wing, taught not only the ways of crime but also skills like reading, writing, hunting and so on.

Uncle

Uncle was born in Ohio (insert Penelope Braithwaithe shutter) with the only family present being his parents who died when he was nine and an "uncle" named Jeb whom Uncle hints at being a pedofile.

After his parents death he was on his own and was forced to a new city where he had to care for himself, and from that time to the game start in 1899, we know he has been married at least twice.

Uncle tells many stories of his past such as going to Africa and being worthshipped like a god by the locals, however the truth of these stories are highly doubted due to his tendency to lie. He does tell stories of being a "one shot kid" in his younger days, the truth of these also being doubted, however it may have been his tricket into the Van Der Linde gang.

Susan Grimsaw

Along with Hosea, Dutch and Arthur Susan was one of the founding memebers of the Van Der Linde gang, having run into Dutch during a poker game where both he and she found interest in one another, causing the curious couple and their unruly son to stay in the area a bit longer, paying poker long into the night while Susan sat on Dutch's lap.

Having gotten into a romantic relationship with Dutch, Susan was allowed to join the small group and even stayed when Dutch moved on to Annabelle, now serving as a form of housemother, making sure that people did their work, took properly care of themselves and made camp feel like home.

You can also hear Susan talking to Mary-Beth one time in camp, admitting that she had a fiance once however he went to heaven.

John Marston

John Marston was born in 1873 to an illiterate scottish father born on the boat to New York and a prositute mother who died during his birth. At first John lived with his father who constantly spoke of Scotland and his love for the country, however he was blinded in a bar fight south of Chicargo and later died when John was eight. The true cause of his father's death is unknown however John was told it was a barfight.

John spent a few years in an orphanage before running off and living on his own, at the mere age of eleven commiting his first murder by shooting a man, though he claims it was not his fault.

At the age of twelve John had been caught stealing from homesteaders who planned to have him hanged, however Dutch stepped in and took him under his wing.

Orville Swanson

Swanson used to wrok as a Clergyman but after indulging in the "earthly pleasures", being seduced by alchohol and sex, he lost his family, job and in the end faith, though he desperately tried to regain it.

At some point or another he fell in love with a woman named Margaret, though she was already married, so he simply added bigamy to the list of sins he had already commited. When the two of them were in San Fransisco, the law finally caught up wth them and while she fled onto a ship headed for Shanghai he was stuck and never saw her again.

Under unknown circomstances Swanson came to save Dutch's life and due to Dutch's debt to Swanson he was allowed to join the gang.

Mary-Beth Gaskill

Being a woman of good nature, Mary-Beth did not struggle getting close to her victims after having found herself needing to find a living in the streets. Due to her looks and personality she could with ease fool the richer men into thinking they were saving a poor maiden in need while her fingers slipped into their pockets.

It was through this that Mary-Beth got in trouble with not just the law but her victims as well. One night she had gotten a few foul men on her tail that she ran into the Van Der Linde gang who saved her and asked her to join them.

Charles Smith

Charles Smith was born to a Native Mother and a free African American father, all three of them living fairly happily with his mothets tripe together with a few other free men before the US army chased them away.

They continued to live together but a few years later Charles' mother was captured by the army, leading Charles' father to fall into alcoholism and a deep depression.

At the mere age of 13 Charles left his father and began to live on his own, becoming a supreme survivalist from an early age.

Some point during the late 1898 ran into the Van Der Linde gang in the Grizzlies and joined them.

Simon Pearson

Simon Pearson's family were whale hunters and although Pearson wished to follow in their footsteps it did not go that way due to the whale industry having lessened by the time that he got out of school. Having been forced to look for new employment options, Pearson joins the Navy where he even managed to get stranded for fifty days on a ship filled with plauge, watching his friends and coworkers slowly drop one by one.

After having returned from the Navy Pearson begins to struggle financially and takes a loan, however unable to pay it off loansharks comes after him and it is during one of these attempts at getting to Pearson that the Van Der Linde gang saves him and brings him to camp as a cook.

Abigail Marston

Abigail Marston, originally born Abigail Roberts, was orphaned at a young age and started roaming around bars, scraping whatever few coins she could take from folk before starting a work of prostitution, making an earning by selling her body and at some point running into Uncle at a bar who introduced her to the gang.

Now living with the gang, Abigail still worked as a prositute up until falling pregnant with Jack Marston by John Marston.

Josiah Trelawny

Josiah Trelawny was born in England though he has no memories of his life there, he later imigated to America where he starts working as a conman and trickster. It was during this line of work that he met yhe Van Der Linde gang and joined them bur with a special advandage as he, unlike the others, was allowed to appear and disappear as he pleased, always knowing when Dutch planned to cut him off and return with a big hit.

Josiah has a family living in Saint Denis concisting of a wife and two sons named Tarquin and Cornelius. Just as with the gang, he would disappear on them for months.

Karen Jones

Karen Jones lived as a scam artist in her early years and absolutely loved the outlaw lifestyle and hoped for a bit more which partly drove her to accept the Van Der Linde gang's invitation, hoping to achieve more.

Javier Escuella

Javier Escuella was born in Mexico to a drunkard father who worked for Allende' (a main antagonist in rdr1, a military man) uncle. When he was young he saw his own uncle as well as four other separate men get casterated and fed to pigs for simply suggesting fair wages for their work.

Javier moved on to become a violent and known bounty hunter and revolutionary, fighting against what he saw as a corupt system.

Javier ended up killing a powerful former military man for a woman that he loved, fearing for his loved ones life he fled to America where he knew no english and had no work or food, leaving him starving.

It was in America that he ran into Dutch as they both were trying to steal the same chickens. Dutch took Javier in, fed him, gave him a family and a life, leading Javuer to idiolize Dutch also for his revolutionary ideals.

At some unknown point someone attempted to kill Javier, leading to him having a prominent scar on his throat.

Sadie Alder

Sadie Alder grew up in a harsh envioment and from a very early age learned how to hunt and ride to care for herself, things that Jack Adler fell in love with. The two of them married september 1896, moving to a ranch in Ambarino where they had three happy years of marriage before the O'Driscolls arrived at their cabin.

[haveagarbageday]

Defeated \\ Charles Leclerc, Oscar Piastri, Jenson Button

summary: Charles and Oscar both fall in love with you, and they do their best to impress you. But you're not interested, and eventually they find out why.

additional info: Mercedes!driver!reader. Jenson won the vote, so here we are. No happy ending for Charles and Oscar. Anyway, I'm like a dog with a bone, I'm not letting that Webber idea go. So expect a story where Oscar loves reader, but he finds out she's with Mark.

warnings: age gap

After the whole adoption joke, the friendship of Charles and Oscar reached a new stage. Sure, they had been friends before, but this shifted the dynamic in the direction of something better, something based on mutual respect. They helped each other, they kept in touch outside race weekends too–to the point Oscar was often invited to family dinners since everyone took that joke far too seriously–and everything was great in general.

That’s until the beginning of the 2025 season. Mercedes announced your arrival the year before, but you were just another rookie, someone they didn’t know that well. But then you scored some precious points on your first race, and you kept up this exceptional performance, eventually challenging your teammate for higher positions. This caught their interest, although they weren’t alone. Many drivers looked at your twenty-two years old self as a little sister, someone they wanted to protect from the sport’s toxic environment.

But these two didn’t see you as a sister, far from that. They had a soft spot for you after getting to know you better, and without ever discussing it, they both started to flirt with you in their own ways. Oscar decided to befriend you first, giving himself the chance to talk to you even when you weren’t in the paddock together, he invited you to hang out with him, and he always made sure to sneak a few sentences that hinted at his intention into your conversations. Charles was more straightforward with his compliments, whether it was related to your driving or the way you looked that day, and he even brought you small gifts, always saying he just happened to think of you when he saw them.

They both noticed what the other was doing, which led to a cold war between the two of them, slowly poisoning their relationship, although they didn’t let it show. They kept talking on the race weekends, they didn’t unfollow each other on social media, but the tone of their conversations became a lot colder. But one day they decided to talk about this, and even though neither of them said it out loud that this was the reason for their meeting, deep down they both knew they had to discuss what they should do.

As they were sitting in the secluded corner of a café back home in Monaco, just a day before they were supposed to head to their next race weekend, Oscar let out a long sigh and took a sip of his coffee and looked over at the door when someone walked in. He wanted to figure out how to bring you up, how to shift the conversation about the upcoming race to you, about the situation they found themselves in.

But Charles seemed to be a step ahead of him, because he cleared his throat to get his attention, then went, “You like her, don’t you?”

The Aussie nodded, a small smile unintentionally creeping on his face at the thought of you. “I believe you feel the same,” he said after a short break.

“What’s not to like?” the fellow driver asked, and the younger man across from him nodded once again in agreement, muttering true under his breath. Charles unexpectedly let out a troubled sigh and leaned back in his chair, a hand now resting on the back of his neck. “I don’t know about you, but she keeps me at arm’s length. It’s like I’ve been friend zoned.”

Oscar’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You too? I thought she was acting like this because she chose you,” he admitted.

His friend watched him with narrowed eyes, his brain in overdrive as he thought about the possible reasons. Did you have someone? Were you focusing on your job instead of looking for a relationship? It must be the latter, after all you had once told him you wanted to survive your first year without any kind of drama. You also said you were using Oscar as a reference point, because he managed to exist in this world with his private life mostly kept private.

“I wouldn’t be here if she chose me. I would spend every free moment with her, but she’s just not interested. What do we do now? I don’t want to forget her, I don’t know if I could,” he said.

The McLaren driver licked his lips and looked down at the cup in front of him. “Me neither. But what if we have no choice? We can’t force her to choose between us,” he began, stopping for a moment while he thought. “What if our attempts are futile and she wouldn’t pick either of us in the end? Maybe it’s time to admit we have no chance.”

Charles let out a laugh as he shook his head. “You can give up if you want, but I’ll keep trying.”

Despite their little competition being perfectly fine until now, Oscar felt the need to set some rules, just so their chances were even. He suggested the other man to tone it down a bit, to stop trying to buy your love with gifts, because those meant a lot to you, you had told him that yourself before. It’s not that he wasn’t ready to shower you with things your heart desired, he just didn’t think it was fair to manipulate you like this. But the Monegasque only laughed at this and said maybe it wasn't him who had to tone it down, maybe it was Oscar who had to step up his game.

Either way, you still didn’t show any interest in them, not romantically at least.

On one race weekend Jenson Button showed up, being there for Williams, but spending some time with Sky Sports too, doing interviews with a few of the drivers. Oscar was waiting for his turn not far from them, watching as you answered the questions with that big smile on your face, and he couldn’t help but smile himself, because it made him fall in love with you again.

Then he heard Jenson go, “I heard you felt a little sick this morning. Do you think it could affect your weekend?”

Your eyes widened, clearly surprised by the question, but it only lasted for a second, because you were quick to respond as calmly as you could. “I’m fine, maybe it’s just some dehydration, I’ll drink more, and I’ll be good as new,” you said with a small smile forced on your face.

After a few more questions it was a wrap for you, and you began to walk away, but Jenson excused himself and went after you, probably to apologize for bringing up your health problem when you hadn’t talked about it yet. As you said, it wasn’t serious, maybe there was no reason to mention it. Now, Oscar didn’t want to eavesdrop, he usually respected other people’s privacy, but neither of you noticed he was nearby, and you began to talk in a normal voice that made it impossible for him not to hear it without walking away.

“What the fuck was that? We agreed, everything that happens behind closed doors stays there,” you hissed angrily.

The Aussie had his suspicions, but maybe he was wrong, maybe it was just his imagination running wild. But when Jenson let out a sigh and raised his hands in defense, he knew his first instinct was right. “I thought we agreed that you would go to the medical center to figure out what this is. You said you didn’t, what was I supposed to do?” he asked.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “So what, pressuring me on air was the best you could come up with? I’m fine, I already told you, let’s just drop this.”

Jenson took a step closer to you, his hand slowly reaching out to touch you, but he changed his mind last minute. “All right, you’re right, it wasn’t fair. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you tonight. How does that sound?” You watched him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Good, we’ll discuss the details later. Be a good girl until then.”

After you waved him goodbye and left, he returned to his place in front of the camera, and Oscar was finally told it was his turn. But after seeing this? There was no way he could keep his cool while talking to him, or at least it would take a lot more effort than usual. Now he knew why you weren’t interested in either him nor Charles, and this broke his heart. From all the people around them, you seriously had to pick someone so much older than you? Someone you couldn’t openly date?

In the afternoon, he sent a text to Charles, asking for an emergency meeting in the evening, and so now the two of them were sitting in his hotel room with a bottle of booze and two glasses in front of them. Oscar told his friend everything he had heard and seen that day, and they both became absolutely depressed, hitting the rock bottom by the end of the story. They tried to figure out what to do now, but they agreed that exposing your relationship would have been a terrible move, and they didn’t even feel like intervening.

“Do you think she loves him?” Charles asked with a sigh as he looked up at the ceiling.

Oscar shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, she was smiling so brightly, especially when she was talking to him. And Jenson brought up her sickness because he was worried about her, so maybe it’s a mutual feeling.”

Silence fell between them as it became obvious that they had no chance, not before either you or Jenson got bored of the other and broke up. Once they emptied the bottle, Charles stood up and said goodnight, deciding to go back to his own hotel room to get some proper sleep so he could focus the next day. “My heart is already broken, I don’t want my car to be broken too,” he told Oscar before leaving. It was painful, yes, but maybe they would have a chance to fight for you. Maybe one day you would realize that being in a relationship you could openly talk about was much better.

[ultrasharpy12345stuff]

SUCCESS STORY (manifesting)

OMFG you guys! I did it! I made it to my desired reality! I'm living my desired life!

All I did was decide it's done. More specifically, I just did Angel's fulfillment challenge (which you don't have to do). Everyday I just decided to live like I was in my desired reality right now as often as I could and whenever I wanted to.

If I vented, I vented. If I ranted I ranted. If I sabotaged my manifestation I just decided it wouldn't matter and that nothing would ruin my manifestation and everything was ok and fine.

And this is totally optional but I affirmed sometimes. I just did to remind myself that it was done.

My affirmations were:

-I'm living my desired life

-Nothing can ruin my manifestation

-I'm in my desired reality

-I'm in my desired reality in my penthouse in Tokyo

-I have all my desires

-The 3D conforms instantly

And it worked! And now I'm happy! I woke up today IN my penthouse in Tokyo! The view of the city is amazing. I checked my bank account and it turns out I'm super rich! Like I literally have BILLIONS of dollars. And it's like I always get millions of dollars out of nowhere! So it's like I get paid just to exist!

Also life in this reality is soooooooo different than on Earth. Like the people in the city are nice... but they aren't just humans beings. I'm seeing Japanese monsters walking around wearing uggs! I can also see Godzilla walking around in a place in the city it's so cool! (don't worry, they made a place in the city specifically for her)

I can also enter the void anytime I fall asleep. Like everytime I go to sleep I wake up IN the void state completely aware. I know this because I just decided I would go to sleep and I did! (one of the things I also manifested, to fall asleep instantly)

And guess what? I also revised my ENTIRE life. Like all the shitty, terrible things that happened to me and all the awful things I've done are GONE! They never happened. All the arguments I had with people on Youtube are gone, they never happened. I never met those people. All the people who I argued with on Discord, well I never argued with them. All the problems with my family are gone.

I also have new memories of me being in Highschool. It went great! I made some friends, they never got angry at me, I got to play my videogames, and I never had to deal with any kind of stress. And I also have my college degree even though I never went to college.

Also let me show you what I look like:

This body:

This is my hairstyle (except it's white colored):

This is my face (trigger warning: AI art, also dw I'm black):

And I'm like popular on Twitter. I'm as popular as @rariatoo. People follow my art and they love drawing my OCs and characters, it's so much fun. Plus I have a patreon and a redbubble. I get to make my OCs as plushies and stickers and ship them off.

And the best part is that there's no wars! No covid, no genocide in the Congo or Palestine, no racism, no problems. And there never will be, everything is fine! Its literally a Utopia.

Summary of what I manifested:

-Desired life & reality

-Freezing Time

-Revising entire life

-Different family (same soul but different looks (slightly) and better personality)

-Entering the void whenever I fall asleep and at will

-A butler friend who I can summon and make disappear at will (he's super nice and never have any problems, perfect personality, kinda shy, and we just had some woopie 🥵🤪)

-Magic (I can do LOTS of crazy stuff)

-Being able to shift realities at will

-Visiting my family through a magic door (my family lives in what I call, "Reality # 3 and I can visit them anytime I want)

-Spawning groceries and food whenever I want (I still go out, dw)

-Friends on discord and some IRL

-Money money monayyyyyyyyyyy

-Perfect health and mental health, no problems with my body

-Never getting yelled at ever again or abused/nobody gets abused/abuse doesn't exist. Yellers don't exist.

& a lot of other personal things

You guys got this! You can get your dream life! Go for it! *I didn't get my dream life yet, that's why the title reads:

"SUCCESS STORY (𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴)" When you put "manifesting in the title it means you haven't gotten your desires yet but you're doing it to help you live in the end. SO please don't be angry or offended.*

[qqueenofhades]

Not that anything's a for sure bet but my read on the general situation re: Harris-Walz is that there's going to be a lot less headwind to fight for Harris specifically as opposed to Clinton because the amazing right wing media hasn't had twenty years for poison to seep into the layperson's thoughts about Clinton's "worthiness"

Well, that and the fact that the MAGA crowd are just really, really bad strategic planners (especially since a solid 75% of their strategy is "lol we'll just cheat and win it that way, we don't need anything else.") They howled for 3.5 years about how Biden was too old to serve and should step down, and then when he did, they had zero plan how to run against Kamala and Trump is now practically begging Biden to magically get back into the race and save him. They ran an anti-Shapiro influence campaign by encouraging the antisemitic online left and planning to exploit the issue among Democrats divided on Israel/Gaza, then furiously melted down when Walz was picked and had no plan to deal with him either. Fascism is a helluva drug, kiddos. Don't try it at home.

The reason Harris has been able to rocket so high is simple, which is that she's channeling Obama 08 energy in more ways than one. Obama also came onto the national political scene four years before (with his speech at the 2004 DNC) and four years later, he was the party's nominee. It didn't even matter that he was a skinny brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama, because people were so tired of the chaos and war and incompetence of Bush Jr that they latched onto a simple message of hope and change and the historical nature of his candidacy felt like an optimistic risk worth taking. Why couldn't it be time for the first African American president? Yes, of course, there was incredible vitriol and we are still dealing with that backlash in some ways now, but still.

As I have said before, Trump is technically not the incumbent, but the last 8 years have been dominated by his hatred, chaos, division, rage, and treason in a way even Bush could never quite manage, and when people get to that point, there's a lot of coiled-up energy that has at last come bursting out. We needed Biden's old-moderate-white-man cred to defeat Trump as the sitting president in 2020, when most of his worst scandals hadn't even happened yet, but this is not 2020 (or 2016) and the dynamic is different. We are now on offense and playing to win, people have readily and eagerly embraced the absolute god tier karma that would come from a black female prosecutor finally ending the Orange Menace's reign of terror once and for all, and the Republicans are spitting smoke and spinning gears running frantically through their usual tired old stupid cliche attacks. GAY TRANS EVIL BIRTHERISM SWIFTBOAT FOREIGN FAR LEFT COMMIE LIBERAL HEATHEN!! they scream desperately, trying to find something that sticks. Except this time, no matter how hard the corporate media tries to help them out, nobody is listening. Nobody is buying it. We know exactly what BS they're trying and we're just shrugging and going "Yeah, no. Weird."

It absolutely helps that Kamala is not dragging the ball and chain of 20 years of Republican smear attacks, yes. But there are a lot of reasons why the GOP is imploding before our eyes and it's probably now more statistically likely that there is a blue tsunami than it is that Trump wins. I still cannot, CANNOT, believe it has been barely three fucking weeks. If this is a dream don't want to wake up, etc. Let me goddamn stay in this timeline just a little longer. And if we do the work, we can in fact make it that way, and Yeah. Yeah.

[motherofdogs1010]

A Jedi in Arrakis (Paul Atreides x Reader)

Summary: While on the run from Empire troops, Jedi padawan Y/N comes to find out that hyper-driving in a compromised craft can have some major setbacks when she discovers not only is on a new planet but a whole new galaxy as well...

Warnings: jedi!reader, eventual 18+, NSFW, angst, fluff, eventual smut/pinv!sex, oral sex, talks of questioning the Force and teachings, more to come as story progresses

A/N: Like Ahsoka, I left Reader to have white, which means they are neutral and I feel Anakin would have taught any other padawans to be neutral when it came to the Force. The type of lightsaber Reader has for any photo reference is the same type Darth Maul has!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part II

She had e/c eyes that looked at him softly as she laid beside him; the white silk she wore over her body showing the curves she possessed as she reached a hand out and caressed his cheek.

"Paul", she softly said, her skin tanned and soft.

Her hair fell around her and framed her face as she blinked.

"Paul..."

Her voice lulled him before he heard a humming, a buzz of electricity coming to light before a white light took over, shielding him from her...

🪐

In a galaxy far, far away...

Hands gripping the steering wheel of her craft, Y/N looked at the controls to see if hyperdrive was even possible and saw that it was not yet as she dodged another Imperial craft shooting at her.

"BB, you better hold onto your metal butt", she called out to her robotic companion.

BB-1 was a BB prototype similar to the R2-D2 design with the little robot being circular and having a teal color scheme; she heard the little robot let out a squeak as it rolled to secure itself to something.

Y/N hadn't thought of the Empire being on Dantooine but she thought wrong; she had been sent there by her Jedi Master, Anakin while Ahsoka (her fellow padawan/classmate) was sent to assist in the Clone Wars on the field. This intel was supposed to be useful to the Rebellion against the Clone War and Y/N knew if she was captured, that could only result in terrible things.

"BB", she said as she dodged a meteor in their path. "Connect to the database and upload what we got then delete everything."

BB let out a little beep followed by a whirling noise before getting to the task as she saw the Storm Troopers still on their path.

It was an agonizing five minutes of waiting for BB to upload the data, hearing an excited beep from BB as she had just winced as their craft was hit with another beam from the Storm Trooper craft just as she saw that hyperdrive was possible as the system alerted her of all the damage.

"Alright, BB!" she said, looking over her shoulder. "Now really hold on to your metal butt! It's going to be bumpy!"

BB let out a whirl of noises just as she hit the button for hyperdrive...

Her head was pounding as heard BB's concerned noises before she heard the beeping of the ship and opening her eyes with a gasp and looking around, it all rushing back to her of the system failure during hyperdrive, her trying to navigate as they were descending fast onto an unknown planet.

"Hold on, BB", she said, "let me... let me grab my-"

She grasped at her side where her lightsaber was clipped as she un-clipped herself from her seat, standing up as she winced from the headache; BB came towards her and beeped, Y/N patted its round little head as she went to the door of the ship, hitting the button to open it but saw wouldn't budge.

With a sigh, Y/N went to where her supplies pouch was and making sure she had plenty of water and food before activating her lightstaber, its white energy glowing as she stuck it into the metal of the door, doing her best of welding it open.

And with success she did as she managed to budge the door open to show a endless desert with hot air that hit her in the face; it reminded her of Tatooine with its similar landscape except she would say Tatooine had more rocky structures than this place.

"Where are we, BB?" she voiced as she stepped out.

The sun was hot against beige tunic and she frowned under the force of the heat, looking at BB before putting her hands on her hips.

"I guess let's do some exploring, huh?"

🪐

It was hard walking through all the sand, making sure she didn't stumble as she walked. And it was pretty boring considering there was just sand and oh, more damn sand; she wondered why it looked like the sand glittered at some points as her and BB continued their journey before her eyes widened at the sight of a large machine that reminded her of AT-AT Walkers except this one was larger in width and was... digging into the sand?

Either way, that had to mean that people were around as she began to jog towards there considering that it was so close.

BB rolled easily over the sand as they heard the sound of aircrafts and looking up, she saw two that resembled a bug, a dragonfly really. It hovered in the air as if it was looking over the machine and she squinted as she looked before beginning to feel the ground begin to shake violently to the point that she was knocked over.

Looking around, her first thought was a Nightwatcher worm and she looked at the machine as she begun to run with BB following closely; she held her lightstaber in her hand, her pouch bouncing as she ran with all her might to the machine.

Paul watched as the dust cloud grew as the sandworm quickly approached the Harvester, his father arguing that it was better to save the men on the Harvester than prioritize the Spice.

"Forget the Spice, we need those men", Leto argued and Paul's eyes squinted as he saw two figures running towards the Harvester.

"Look there", Paul pointed, his father leaned and looked.

"It's a girl and a... robot?" he said.

A.I. and anything of that nature had been banned in the Empire since the great war against A.I. so many centuries ago so it was curious as to who this was.

"How many men are on that?" his father asked.

"21", Shadout responded. "23 with the girl and the robot."

"We can only carry 6 on each ship", Paul mentioned.

"We'll make it work", his father confidently said.

🏜️

She was right that machine would draw in people as it was being evacuated as the sandworm was coming closer. BB was squealing as the sandworm was hot on their trail before she panted, "Go, BB! I'll hold it off!"

BB squealed and she said, "Go! I'll be there too!"

Turning around, she panted as she sucked in a breath and held her hand out, focusing her mind on the Force and its power as the creature closer. She felt vindicated as she saw the creature hit a invisible wall, panting and sweating as she held back the creature, the heat exhaustion getting to her as she tried her best to keep the creature back as black began to spot into her vision.

Suddenly, a hand gripped her shoulder and she looked to find two men: one around her age with handsome, pale features and dark curled hair, and an older man with greying hair.

"Come on, follow us", the older man said, she nodded.

With a final push of the Force, she ran behind the men onto one of the ships, stumbling but gleefully cheering once she saw BB there, who twirled in happiness and squealed.

"BB", she said, the robot rolling to her and she hugged it. "I told you I'd make it."

BB let out noises and she laughed.

"You understand that?" a man asked.

"Don't you?" she asked as she stood. "Where am I?"

"You're on Arrakis", a older man with thick dark hair and a facial beard said. "I'm Duke Leto of House Arrakis and this is my son, Paul. Do you mind telling me where you're from?"

"Arrakis? I've never heard of it", she mumbled, "I'm Y/N L/N from Naboo. What star system is this?"

"Canopus", Leto said and Y/N's eyes widened. "Where is this Naboo? I've never heard of such a planet in the Empire?"

Y/N now realized where she was as BB let out a concern noise. They weren't just in an entirely different solar system, they were in an entirely different galaxy...