#which if you know me is a serious thing coming from me

[loonypsychicchild]

(Another response from me to this ongoing bastardy analysises that is bound to happen as this was an issue that the show created and does not seem to be dealing with it well enough as it has no consequence or no commitment to it to explore it well enough except for when they need character to be victims to gain brownie points. )

Starting from the argument that Joffrey was not necessary and too much risk, Rhaenyra should have stopped at 2 children with Harwin aa OP wrote as a response to a comment: You must have an heir and a spare for the Iron throne and the lordship of Driftmark with Joffrey he has a shared dpare for bot of these titles. She doesn't know she will marry Daemon she has to all she can. Also you must know that they live in the medieval era and children die very young even with the noble children. So they aren't like us modern people who can say okay I have done 2 kids it is enough. And this is proved by how her two olderst heirs die in the war they could have still died to diseases before that and she named Joffrey as his heir. The heir some people call unnecessary and needlesly risky was useful, the other kids were too young to be serious heirs. Also arguing a medieval women no matter how magical and royal and well educated would have an idea of planning her pregnancies and children is ludicrous, they are not modern women even if they are thought many things women are seen as broodmares and they don't think a second time about how dangerous and unplanned a pregancy is. Most of the Targ women that say they can't take another pregnancy are still impregnated and they still die. It is not even the general medieval information to understand Westeros, it is in the books that no such thought is given. In fact these girls do not know their sexuality and don't even understand what they are supposed to do in marriage in some occurences. 

While I understand people thinking Rhaenyra acted very dangerously, it is still putting the wrong emphasis on the wrong subject. There was not such an emphasis on this in fire and blood because a clever royal who knows their power can always silence these rumors which is what Rhaenyra does in the books. However the main issue with the fandom's take on the subject comes from the source I think which for many is The House of the Dragon. Because the show gives so much modern understanding of things and modern actions to characters people start to forget these are not modern people and even the most educated of them don't have certain awareness and have reasons to believe they should act in any other way. For all we know Rhaenyra probably thought she needed to have children and she needed to have sex to have children but she did not have been thought to plan these pregnancies because back then women were simple being impregnated according to man's whim. And we must remember Rhaenyra is very young and still a teenager when she has Jace, Luke and Joffrey. She still doesn't understand the game she is playing to a full extent both in the bedroom and the courtroom. So not blaming Laenor who have not tried enough even though having non trueborn sons creates a risk for him and not blaming Harwin Strong who qould kniw better about these things and blaming Rhaenyra does not fit in the in-universe understanding of things as some like to call too. It is okay to blame all of them but no one in the fandom seems to ever mention the two mem in this equation while we have constant endless and same discussions about how Rhaenyra is at fault. And it is about one thing that could be her understandable fault as an heir and not about all of the other mistakes she has done on the show years later after becoming an heir and should be better at it. As she is still a young women who is having pregnancies back to back without much time to understand motherhood in between them is understansable for reasonable people in-universe which is why even tho they can not all men exploit their women. 

Also I simply don't think they have more than very simple understanding of genetics so much so the rumours can be shut down by the ones at power. And it does not even become any part of Rhaenyra's downfall in the books, in universr characters and houses don't have as big of a problem as greens have. It is obvious that only two times this issue is put fort it is Vaemond, Aemond and The Greens, it is just another powerplay to winanother victory in game of thrones. It does not become a victory in any of these times which is why these scenes in the show looks more like used to get an emotional reaction from the audience that an actual problem that will result into something. Also these people do not know about Valyrians and their magical looks, they are just offput about how normal these boys look in the books which has more of George's actual design of events that correlate. As he sees removing a simple rule can break how the story unfolds he does not go long ways to dramatize the events that have no result. In the understanding of Westeros who genuinely don't have any knowledge to make more of these they are just rumors. It comes from lack of understanding in genetics and Valyrian magical people to put it simply. Giving more proof to bastardy by making Valeryons black and Rhaenys not black haired (also not having Harwong Strong and Aemma Arryn's physical descriptiona but that cannot be the case for a TV show so it gets a pass) takes away from the mystery of the heriatge of the boys, which then makes Rhaenyra too stupid to be believable for an heir who has befriended most of the houses in the realm and destroyed these rumors with an iron fist, which you must agree was more capable that the show version of events put her to be. No matter if you believe that the bastardy is true in the book or not book has nuance in a way that cannot be kept in a TV format 1:1 but still a better job could have easily be done in this regard for sure by at least keeping most of the known facts from the books and let the events play out more like how George envisioned them. I think the biggest mistakes of the show comes from not believing George's vision and believing too much that they can do better which resultd in them missing a lot of nuance which gives too little world building to general audience that a lot of the takes start becoming sensless repetition that just does not add anything to the show and only show how some of these decisions do not land as the way they want them to.

Rhaenyra reminds me of those white moms who have kids with a different race father and then refuses to acknowledge that they don’t have the same privileges as her. like she’s had so much privilege and power her whole life she can’t even see the corner she’s just backed her child, her heir into. She’s so dense that it hurts. Jace is right. ALICENT was right. Having three fucking kids with a man whose genes had proved to curb stomp yours IS an insult! Not bc bastards are evil or anything, but it’s a fucking insult to Jace, to Luke, to Joffery to drag them in a situation where they’re constantly demonized for YOUR actions and then REFUSE to own up to it even when your child is begging you with literal tears in their eyes to not take the one thing that saves him from the bullying and harassment YOU brought onto them. At this point, I’m extremely grateful the story ends with the targs in disarray bc none of those white haired fuckers deserve the throne (except for Baela and Jace, with brown hair

And to make it even worse, Jace is RIGHT. When the war is over and your brown haired, pug nosed child who looks exactly like someone NOT his legal father is named heir and you’ve taken his ONLY symbol of legitimacy away what will you do then?? Hmm?? I swear…

[witherby]

With Dick being so angry about Conner breaking in i could only imagine how chatic him actually meeting Conner would be, like having to keeo him in one of those kiddie keashes or he‘ll try to kill the guy 😭

A 17 year restrianing a whole adult man with one of those kid harnesses

Honestly? Yeah. Gimme some genuinely angry Nightwing every once in a while. Let that parentified man get some of that pent-up rage out!!!

The Littlest Wayne: Meet the Family

Masterlist is Here!

Conner opens his eyes and sits up when he hears you step into his room. He stares at you incredulously, then at the darkness and the way it seamlessly folds and bends to your will.

"You're invulnerable?" You ask him.

"Yes?" He responds, confused. It's just past eleven at night, and you've shown up out of nowhere to chat when the only other time you've spoken was when he came to your room three days ago. "A bullet bounces off me at point-blank range. Feels like somebody flicked me with their finger, at most."

"Okay," you say, looking nervous, "because my family found out you broke into the house to talk to me, and they're, like, super livid. I just came to give you fair warning because they might, uh, try to kill you."

Conner chuckles. Your face doesn't change. He stops chuckling.

"What, you're serious?"

"They're looking for their stashes of Kryptonite right now. I hid most of it, but they probably have more I don't know about. Just...be prepared. And don't kill any of them, or you'll have to hide from me, next."

The shadows in his room curl around you again. You step into them and allow darkness to envelop you completely.

"Bye, Conner."

"Um," he blurts, cheeks reddening, "same. I mean, bye. Goodbye to you, too."

He hears you snort in amusement before you're gone again. Conner is then left alone to process, 1, that you were concerned for his well-being enough to come warn him about your family, and 2, that he made you laugh.

He can't sleep the rest of the night, giddy with the swell of adoration he has for you.

--

The next time Luthor has him leave the facility to do his job as Superman, it's when the first Superman has to go off-world again over a month later. Conner stops a bank heist, saves some hostages, puts out a fire, and helps a child find her parents when she wanders too far off in the mall.

Then he meets your youngest sibling.

His moniker is Robin. The implanted information helps Conner identify him immediately, which helps him realize that Robin should not be in Metropolis, and especially not in full costume. Alarm bells are ringing in his head.

"I was warned you might show," Conner says, hovering in the air as he looks down at Robin.

"Then you know what you've done wrong," Robin calls back, unsheathing a sword from his back and pulling a batarang out of his pocket. "Come here and face the consequences."

"I'm fine where I'm at, thanks."

"It wasn't a request, Superboy."

"Superman," Conner frowns.

Robin sneers. "Not from what I see."

Conner feels a flare of anger surge within him. What was the big deal? He just needed to see you. He didn't hurt you — he would never dare — just stopped by your home to talk. And you did the same thing! Why some human with an eye mask and a sword feels like they can berate him for that, he doesn't know, but he's not going to take it lying down.

Faster than Robin can blink, Conner snatches the weapons from his hands and tosses them aside, then flips his cape over his head with a sneer.

"Go home, sidekick," Conner says. "I don't have time for this."

"I do."

Something hits Conner's back. It actually hurts, which is the surprising thing, and he yelps as a man in black and blue spandex descends upon him and starts beating him with a pair of escrima sticks. He falls to his knees, overwhelmed by a brand new sensory input he hasn't experienced before, then brings his arms up to shield his head and curls up further.

Nightwing, his brain registers between the blows. But according to his knowledge base, the man is usually not this violent. He always pulls back from an opponent when they duck down or hit the ground, and Conner is practically in fetal position. His sticks are glowing green, which is not a good sign. Conner feels sick.

"Oh, shit — hey, he's on the ground, pull it back!"

"This wasn't the plan, Nightwing, cool it —"

"I think he's doing great. Let him get a few more swings in."

"Robin you're not helping!"

"Seriously, get off him!"

Conner groans and gasps in pain. His whole body feels like it's on fire. There's sounds of a scuffle happening above him, but he picks up on someone else's shaky breathing a few yards away.

He cracks an eye open and spots a civilian half-hidden around the corner, filming everything happening.

The birds want to come to Metropolis and mess with him? Well, two can play at that game. They're about to be hated by the masses for touching the city's new golden boy.

Conner makes a panicked expression, lifts his arm and waves it in a sweeping motion, and starts shaking his head.

"R-run," he wheezes, "go, get away from here, get to safety!"

"What's he — shit! HEY, C'MERE!" Nightwing gasps, pointing at the civilian. The woman turns and darts into the building she was hiding by, fingers flying across her screen like lightning. "God dammit! Red Robin, can you —"

"I can't," the third figure standing by him says, sounding just as stressed. Conner recognizes both him and the Red Hood's silent figure, who had been physically holding Nightwing back from continuing to swing on him. Robin tsks and presses a few buttons on his gauntlet.

"We'll need to retreat and prepare to do damage control. The batmobile is coming, ETA 30 seconds. What do we do with him?" Robin kicks Conner's arm.

"We can't leave the kid. He's got Kryptonite poisoning and we dunno where his boss is to dump him for medical help," Red Robin says, crossing his arms and sighing. "We gotta take him with us and get the shards out."

"I say leave him anyway. It's just a couple pieces, and if he's as stupidly strong as the real Supes, he'll walk this off," Red Hood suggests.

"We wouldn't have to debate this if Nightwing had kept his cool," Robin grouches. Nightwing has the good graces to look chagrined and tucks his sticks away.

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking about...I'm sorry. C'mon, B will skin is alive if he finds out we left him for dead. Get him in the car."

They're about to abduct him, now, too? Conner almost laughs at the absurdity. All of this, just for paying you a visit? It's madness. But then he imagines some other stranger breaking into your room to talk to you, to touch you, to hurt you, and has to focus his energy to not start burning everything with his laser vision. It's not really absurd anymore. If he could draw a full breath without feeling like white-hot knives are slicing his vary atoms apart, Conner would attempt to explain himself. But he can't, so he doesn't.

He doesn't resist when two of them lift him and start loading his body into the back of a sleek, black vehicle. Metropolis' threats have been neutralized for today, so he technically doesn't need to stay in town. Instead, he closes his eyes and allows himself to drift.

They're taking him to Gotham, which is where you live. He has no qualms with that.

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 21

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: Angst, tension, arguments, hurt.

Nick and I stand there, frozen.

My stomach drops to my ass.

Christina is in Matt’s bed.

Fast asleep, wrapped up in his sheets like she belongs there. It reminds me of when I stayed in his bed in the house.

How could he allow her to do the same.

I feel Nick tense beside me, he's silent but I can almost hear the cogs turning in his mind, like he’s piecing together the same horrifying realization I am.

Then the ensuite door swings open.

And out walks Matt.

Messy hair. Shirtless. Sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Looks like she helped him out last night instead.

The second he looks up, our eyes meet.

And everything inside me stops.

Nick moves first, he could never be silent for that long. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Matt’s mouth parts slightly, but Nick doesn’t give him the chance.

“Seriously?” he seethes, stepping forward. His voice is a dangerous mix of betrayal and anger. “You fucking lied to me. To her.” His arm motions toward me, but I can’t move. I can’t even breathe.

Matt tries to speak.

But Nick gives him no mercy.

“I don’t wanna hear it!” he snaps, his voice rising. “I don’t wanna hear a single fucking word come out of your mouth right now.”

Matt’s face hardens, but he stays silent.

Nick scoffs. “You had one thing to prove, Matt. That you meant it this time.” He shakes his head. “And you couldn’t even do that.”

I can’t stand here anymore.

I need to be in my room. So I turn and leave the room.

Not fast. Not slow. I honestly feel like I'm floating.

I can hear Nick’s voice from down the hall, and he's not letting up easy.

“You either care about her or you don’t, Matt.” His words cut through the thick, suffocating silence.

“So which is it?”

I don’t hear Matt’s answer.

Because I don’t think I could handle it.

Nick’s POV

Y/n turns and walks away, and I don’t blame her.

I watch her go, watch the way her arms wrap around herself like she’s holding herself together, like she has to hold herself together because Matt sure as fuck won’t.

But I’m not done.

Not even close.

I turn back to Matt, still standing there like a fucking idiot, like he’s the one blindsided.

“You’ve gotta be fucking joking.” I breathe, the disbelief thick in my voice.

Matt doesn’t even try to defend himself.

Maybe he knows there’s no excuse.

Maybe he just doesn’t have one.

Matt motions me out of the bedroom before closing the door behind him, the two of us stood in the hallway.

“What, I might wake your precious Christina?” I sneer, pointing at the door. “Wouldn’t wanna interrupt her beauty sleep, huh?”

Matt exhales sharply. “It’s not like that.”

I laugh. “Oh, really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like that.”

He shakes his head, but I don’t soften.

“I’m so disgusted with you.” I shutter. “I thought you would be real this time. That if you were serious about Y/n, you’d to fucking act like it.”

Matt clenches his jaw. “Nick-”

“And what do you do?” I cut him off. “You self sabotage. Again. Like you always fucking do. Because you never know how to handle something real.”

Matt’s eyes darken.

I don’t care.

I take another step forward. “And Y/n?” I point a finger toward the door she just walked toward. “She’s the realest thing you’re ever gonna get. And you know that.”

He drops his gaze for a second, but it’s long enough for me to see it.

Guilt.

Good.

“You know it” I repeat, voice quieter but my tone stays the same. “And you just threw it away.”

Matt opens his mouth, but before he can get a word out, a door behind me swings open.

“Jesus Christ” Chris groans, stepping into the hall. He looks half asleep, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Can you two shut the fuck up? Rachel’s asleep in my room.”

I whip around. “Oh, of course she is!” I snap. “So what, you’ve got a girl in your bed too?”

Chris blinks at me, like he wasn’t expecting that reaction. “What?”

I throw my hands up.  “Seriously, who the fuck thought it’d be a good idea to bring girls out here?” 

I don’t care who hears me.

I don’t care if I wake up the entire goddamn villa.

Chris shrugs, unfazed. “I did?” looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“The fuck are you freaking out about?” he scoffs. “I like Rachel, so I flew her out. I can do that, you know.”

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Oh yeah? And you think that was a good fucking idea?”

Chris crosses his arms. “Why the fuck wouldn’t it be?”

“Because look at what you just caused!” I snap, throwing a hand back toward Matt’s door. “You might not have been the fire, but you sure as fuck were the fuel.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“No, I’m being real.” I hiss, stepping closer. “I want them out. Within the next two hours. I don’t give a fuck what needs to be done. I want them gone.”

Chris’ expression hardens. “That’s unfair.”

I shake my head. “Unfair?” I scoff. “You wanna talk about unfair? Y/n spent this whole trip thinking her and Matt were finally on the same fucking page, and now she walks in to find Christina, of all fucking people, in his bed? And you wanna stand there and act like I’m being unfair?

Chris opens his mouth, as Matt stands awkwardly next to me.

Chris locks eyes with him.

“Wait, what?” Chris’s brow furrows. “She’s in your bed?”

Matt still doesn’t say a word.

Chris shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “Jesus Christ, man.”

I shake my head in complete disgust, looking between the two of them.

“The two of you are fucking idiots” I say, my voice filled with nothing but disappointment. “Absolute fucking idiots.”

Chris exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face, while Matt just stands there, still not saying a goddamn word.

I don’t have the patience for this. Not right now.

Without another word, I turn on my heel and storm down the hallway, heading straight for Y/n’s room on the other side of the villa. My blood is boiling, not just at Matt but at Chris too. They both fucked up, and they both know it.

As I walk away, I hear Chris let out a frustrated sigh before opening his door and stepping into his room.

Matt?

I don’t hear him move at all.

I get to Y/n’s room and try the handle, but the door doesn’t budge. It’s locked.

I sigh, knocking gently. “Y/n, it’s just me.”

A few seconds pass, and then I hear the soft click of the lock. The door opens, and there she is, completely wrecked, her eyes red and swollen, tears streaming down her face. My chest tightens at the sight of her.

“Ah no Y/n.” I mutter, stepping in without hesitation.

Before she can say a word, I pull her into me, wrapping my arms around her tightly. The second she buries her face into my chest, she breaks, her sobs shaking her whole body. I squeeze her tighter, resting my chin on the top of her head.

“He’s an idiot” I tell her. “A fucking idiot.”

She doesn’t respond, just keeps crying, and I hold her through it.

After a minute, I guide her over to the bed, and we settle in. She wipes at her face, sniffling, and I wait, letting her take her time.

Finally, I ask, “What happened last night?”

Y/n takes a deep breath, wiping at her damp cheeks before finally looking up at me. Her voice is quiet, shaky.

“It was fine at first” she starts. “Obviously I was so happy for you, then you’s got up and left after Chris did.” She trails off, taking another breath.

“Then Chris came back with them.”

I already know exactly who she means.

“Christina and Rachel” I say, and she nods, pressing her lips together like even saying the name makes her sick.

“Chris kinda insinuated to Matt about them two catching up.. Nate and I felt awkward, so we went and did two shots and when we came back Matt and Chris were gone, it was just Rachel and Christina in the booth.” She says, staring blankly across the room.

“I mean, I knew things had happened between them before, but Matt told me.. he told me he hadn’t been with anyone since..” She pauses, blinking rapidly, like she’s trying to stop fresh tears from falling. “Since that night in the house. And Vegas was after that, so I didn’t think, I hoped, nothing happened. But the second she started talking, I just knew.”

She clenches her fists in her lap, shaking her head.

“She was smug. She kept making these little comments, insinuating that they were a thing. And when I asked her outright how Vegas was, she just smirked and said “WhAt HaPpEnS iN vEgAs StAyS iN vEgas.”

My jaw tightens.

“That was it for me” she says. “I didn’t want to be there anymore. I knew if I stayed, I’d just get more upset, and I didn’t want to make a scene. I just needed to leave.”

She looks at me with tired, blood shot eyes.

“Nate asked if I was okay, and I told him it was just a weird situation, but.. the truth is, it wasn’t just weird. It hurt.” She pauses. “I don’t think anything happened in Vegas.. Well, I didn’t. But the fact that she’s still here, still acting like she has some claim over him, and the fact that he-” Her voice breaks, and she swallows hard before continuing. “That he let it happen? That he didn’t even try to stop it? It just made me feel like a fool.”

I shake my head, anger building in my chest.

“You’re not a fool.” I tell her firmly. “He is.”

She gives me a weak smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Me and Nate ended up leaving then, he didn’t want to stay either” she says. “I didn’t even say goodbye to Matt, but at that point, I didn’t care. I just wanted to be away from it all.”

I nod. “Was anything said at all?”

She sighs. “Nope, when we got back to the villa. I checked my phone, hoping stupidly that maybe Matt had messaged me. I know he’d seen I left. I just hoped that he’d care.”

Her voice wavers on those last two words, and I clench my fists.

“But there was nothing” she whispers. “Not a single message. Not a bit of concern. And I just, got so angry because I knew why I was angry. Because I care. Because I have feelings for him.”

She blinks, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

“So I turned my phone off and went to bed, hoping that if I slept, the night would be over faster.”

I take a deep breath, letting everything she just told me sink in. I already was mad, but now? Now I’m fucking fuming.

I run a hand through my hair, shaking my head. “I'm going to say it again, but Matt’s a fucking idiot” I mutter.

She lets out a small, sad laugh. “Yeah. He is.”

I pull her in again, letting her rest against me.

I let out a deep sigh, rubbing my face. “I feel awful for not being there for you last night” I admit, my voice heavy with guilt.

Y/n immediately shakes her head. “No, don’t feel bad. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were living your life which you deserve, you were oblivious to everything.” She sniffles.

I lean my head back against the headboard, exhaling sharply. “Well, this whole situation has officially shocked me into being completely sober.”

That earns a small giggle from her, and I smile, relieved to see even the tiniest bit of light return to her eyes.

I tilt my head, looking at her. “Do you want me to stay in here for a bit?”

She hesitates for a second before shaking her head. “No, I think I’d like to be on my own for a little while.”

I nod, respecting her space. “Okay. But if you need anything, I mean it, Y/n, just come get me. I don’t care what time it is.”

She gives me a grateful smile. “Thanks, Nick.”

I squeeze her hand one last time before getting up, heading for the door. Before I step out, I glance back at her, still curled up in bed, her eyes staring off at nothing.

I want to fix this for her. I want to fix Matt. But for now, the only thing I can do is be here for her.

So I leave her room, closing the door gently behind me, and head to my own.

Y/n’s POV

I drag myself off of my bed to  push open the balcony door, letting the early morning air into my room. I feel like I’m suffocating in here, like the walls are closing in on me.

I crawl back into bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing and everything all at once. Numbness settles over me, and I let it. I don’t know how long I lie there, my mind running in endless circles, but it must be at least an hour.

Then, faintly, I hear voices outside on the patio. My ears perk up at the low tones, one voice sharper than the other.

Nate and Chris.

I don’t move, barely breathing as I listen.

Nate’s voice is quiet, laced with disbelief. “I just don’t get it, man.”

Chris sighs. “What?”

“This whole thing. I came home with Y/n last night, and I thought-” He pauses, like he’s still processing it. “I thought Matt was different with her. That he actually gave a shit.”

Chris exhales, and I hear the scrape of a chair moving. “I don’t know what the fuck is going if I’m honest.”

Then followed by a pause.

“The girls are leaving soon” Chris says after a moment, his voice more certain. “I told them they have to go.”

Girls? So that means Rachel is in the villa, too.

I close my eyes, pressing my fingers into my temples. The thoughts of the four of them being in that booth all night. It’s not the four it should’ve been.

“Good” Nate finally says, though his voice is distant, still caught up in his thoughts. “That’s good.”

Neither of them says anything after that, just the occasional sound of movement. I don’t know what to do with any of this. Do I go back to sleep and pretend I didn’t hear? Do I stay curled up in bed and wait for them to leave?

I don’t know.

All I do know is that I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I hear the girls voices outside, light and carefree, like they have no idea the storm they’ve left behind.

They laugh, saying their goodbyes, talking about how much fun they had. Christina’s voice is the loudest, going on about how this trip is "so needed." Rachel thanks Chris for having them over last night, her tone full of gratitude, like this was just some casual getaway and not the disaster it turned into.

“We’ll let you know when we’re back at our hotel” Rachel says smoothly.

Chris responds almost too casually, “Yeah, do that. Hopefully, we can meet later. One on one.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the sting in my chest. Of course. Of course, he’s already setting up another meetup, like none of this meant anything. Like bringing them here, ruining everything, was just some minor inconvenience.

How long are they even here for?

I hear the shuffle of movement. I hear Christina giggle, making some passing comment about how wild the night was, and then the sound of the front door closing.

They’re gone.

But the mess they left behind? That’s still here.

I should feel relieved, but all I feel is exhausted.

I don’t move from my bed for the rest of the day. Not for food, not for water. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything settle over me. My mind replays every moment, every touch, every look, every promise Matt ever gave me.

Was it all fake?

Did he ever mean any of it?

Or was his plan to play with me all along?

I feel stupid. Completely and utterly stupid. I let myself believe in something real. I let myself believe in him. And now, I’m left here, in this bed, in this villa, drowning in the realization that I was just another girl to him. Another meaningless moment in his never ending cycle of self sabotage.

Tears well up in my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I’ve cried enough.

Instead, I just lay here. Empty.

Four more days in this place. Four more days of agony, of being in the same space as Matt, of pretending I don’t care when it’s eating me alive. Within the last 10 days, everything felt different, full of excitement, possibility. Now, it feels like I’m trapped in a nightmare I can’t wake up from.

It’s confusing. All of it. The way he looked at me before, the way he made me feel like I mattered. And now? Now he’s just another person who’s shown me that words mean nothing. That promises are empty.

But one thing is clear.

I don’t want to speak to Matt again.

a/n : GET HIM NICK GET HIM (dw any questions you may have will be answered)

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[angelackless]

LOVER

Joaquin Torres x Stark!reader

"YOU KNOW WHAT,SAM?I CHANGED MY MIND" JOAQUIN STOPPED IN FRONT OF THE TOWER.

"what do you mean you changed your mind?I got you a date with the girl you wouldn't shut up about for months now" Sam stopped to look at him "you can't do this man, she was so excited!"

"she was?" Joaquin asked, his voice filled with hope

"she was, when I told her about you she really seemed interested, and if you bolt right now, Stark gonna beat my ass and then yours when he finds you, and you don't want that,right?"

"I guess no" he shaked his head "alright, i'm just gonna give her this flowers, say she looks pretty and have a fun night with her" Joaquin said, mainly to reassure himself "Yeah, I can do it"

"yes,you can, now get inside pretty boy because I don't want (y/n) to think I pranked her again"

"wait,again?" Joaquin asked as he followed Sam inside the huge tower.

As they arrived at the level where the living room was, he immadetly saw (y/n), and Joaquin felt like he is gonna faint right there, he saw and was with some beautiful woman in his life but, you?hell, he thought he saw a freaking goddess, how the dress that you picked hugged all your curves in all the right places,yeah, he wasn't sure he can keep his hands to himself.I mean, come on, everyone thought (y/n) Stark is gorgeous, and he sure as hell didn't felt ashamed anymore for begging Sam an entire month to set this up.

"Hi, you're Joaquin, right?" you stepped closer to the boy with a kind smile "Sam told me a lot about you"

"only good things I hope" he glanced at Sam for a minute

"just good things" you answered giggling and he had to stop himself from the huge grin that just wanted to appear on his face "really, don't worry, I trust Sam, I know he wouldn't set me up with a bad guy"

"Yeah,yeah, cause i'm not bad, i'm a great great guy" he nodded his head "uhm...you look beautiful by the way, and I got you tulips"

"it's my favorite, thank you" you said as you took the bouquet from him "how did you know?"

"I know a lot of-" then he felt a sharp pain in his side, which was because of Sam elbowing him there "I mean, I asked Sam,yeah, I asked him"

"how about you two get going?the restaurant is not gonna wait for you two all night" Sam interrupted

"Yeah, let's go" Joaquin said and glanced at you "ladies first"

After a thirty minute drive you two arrived at the restaurant, it wasn't that popular nor fancy, which meant the paparazzi wouldn't take pictures of you and your dad, who is on a vacation, won't find out about your date through the internet.

After the waiter led you two to your table, and even got your orders there were a few moment of very very awkward silence, which he decided to break "Sam said that you're in university, what are you studying?"

"Stem" you answered smiling "which is not as cool as your job"

"what?no, don't say that" he shaked his head "I would die in your place, you're much more cooler than me"

"because i'm Tony Stark's daughter?"

"no, because you're you" he answered "you're smart,pretty,you always stand up for what is right,did I mentioned that you're smart? because I think you're incredibly smart" at his words a faint blush appeared on your face accompanied with a giggle

"you barely know me"

"Yeah,well I'm serious about what I said still, besides, I like you"

"you know, I think I like you too, maybe it's weird because we just met, but I feel like i've known you for twenty years" you looked straight into his eyes

"which means I can take you out again?"

"Yeah, you can take me out again" you nodded "but we will go to my place and I cook for us then"

"sounds like a plan" Joaquin winked at you.

[ladyloveandjustice]

She's a good choice and also has the best chance of pulling ahead!

Mako is super strong, and she can beat up men twice her size even in civilian form. She has no patience for bullies, and saves Usagi from three men trying to shake her down in her first appearance. She's tall and she's had bad luck with men who call her unfeminine, so she's very insecure because of that, especially because she really is actually good at cooking and gardening and likes "feminine" things, but most people assume she doesn't. But over the course of all continuities she gets more comfortable with herself. There's actually an episode in the 90s anime where she really looks up to Haruka (a butch lesbian) for being so authentically herself and comfortable in her own skin, and (though the rest of the ep has serious problems) it REALLY tugs on the heartstrings.

Mako is extremely kind hearted, nurturing, courageous and protective. She acts in kind of a "big sis" role to the rest of the group, especially with Usagi, always putting everyone before herself. This level of self sacrifice comes back to bite her at times. She's generally very friendly and often acts as a voice of reason along with Ami (Mercury), but she can get into childish spats with Minako (and Rei, in the live action) and gets unbelievably pissed and kind of reckless if you hurt someone she cares about.

Her parents died in a plane accident and she lives on her own, which is why she's so self sufficient. There's an EXCELLENT episode of the live action where she's initially very mad at Rei for not being as much as a team player as she thinks she should be, only to see Rei basically forcibly dragged to see her politician father. Rei hates him for pretty justified reasons, and she expects Mako to tell her to get along with him, especially since Mako admits she lost her family. But Mako actually says "Well, I don't have parents so that stuff's unknown to me. Let's get you out of here" and busts Rei out. It's SO good.

have some pics, get to know her:

EXTREMELY relevant to this poll (from the live action) (he very much deserved this in context, dw)

Edit: (while I was typing this she pulled into the lead...the gif was prophetic...but she needs a bigger lead to be safe lets go guys)

[daylighted]

I need more baby!reader Dean , I adore everything you write 😭

i think... it's about time... i give u guys what u want ( dean flirting with baby )

sam had his hands full with lore clinging to him, just as dean had intended for things to go. see, that was the only reason he'd entertained your bizarre wish of turning his dad's journal into a girl at all. not that he'd admit it to himself or anything, but it was true. sam occupied meant that there were no witnesses to the fact that, very quickly, his entire resolve was crumbling away due to all of the chipping you'd done at it.

you! this girl that was yes, once his car, but now was this full-fledged human being. you, who liked to be pressed entirely to the window as he drove, taking in every sight with your nose against the glass. you, who held a hand over your heart every time you got anxious, and then proceeded to tear him apart in one sentence because of that anxiety. and you, who cried your eyes out after you said something you thought was too mean.

dean was screwed — but he was thinking of it less like a bad thing now and more like something that could, possibly, potentially, be good for him? this was just as new to him as it was to you, considering he'd never had someone be so utterly devoted to him like you were.

you were brushing your teeth at the sink, humming a song to yourself in the process. he loved showing you music. each song became your new favorite. dean didn't know, really, if you liked them because he showed them to you, or you genuinely liked them, and honestly? didn't care. he was never going to deny the fact that, no matter what it was, you were too damn cute, humming along to whatever metallica song came on next in his (absolutely not specially curated) cd collection.

"c'mon, baby, i don't have all day," he grumbles, tapping the tv remote against his thigh to the beat of the song you hummed to. "you said you wanted to watch..."

he trails off, because he knows you really well by now, and knows you'll fill in the blank. which you do, excitedly spitting out the foamy toothpaste in your mouth and all but leaping onto the bed next to him. "the witcher!" you were a little unbearable after learning that you came to existence because of a witch. dean in all of his whipped glory, thought it was as endearing as ever. "put it on! now!"

"i'm tryin'," he laughs, holding the remote over your head as he scrolls through the options on netflix. "hard to focus when you're bouncin' around over there." goddamn, was it. "sit still, will ya?"

all it takes is one ask for you to, expectedly. unexpectedly, you've decided to settle right on his lap. dean was well aware of how snuggly you got at nighttime, but this was a new level to it. he is suddenly extremely focused on the tv screen, and definitely not on your bare legs wrapped around his, or your head nuzzled into his chest. or anything in between. please, god, don't let him focus on anything in between.

"did you know i love you?" his heart skips a beat every time you say it, even though dean is well aware of how you mean it. not like the way he wishes you would, but somehow somewhere in between what he wants and something platonic. the only type of love that you knew was this, and he didn't want to do anything to selfishly divulge you away from your feelings, however convoluted and confusing they were.

dean nods, his free hand coming up to trail his fingers through your hair. "i know." and dean did. you made sure to tell him once a day, which was another new thing for him. "love you too, angel."

he feels the scowl before you even voice your complaints. you were baby. he should call you baby. but something about the phrase, love you too, baby felt entirely too real and serious, and you could handle it, but he couldn't. not like this.

"there you go," you say, and instantly, dean's mouth tilts up in a smile, "trying to name me again."

your head lifts to meet his eyes, and he watches as the scrunchy irritation to your face melts into a warm smile. you always smiled when he did. you were a girl full of so much love, it just spilled out of every place it could. "it's called a nickname," he says, not for the first time, either. very common occurrence because dean cannot for the life of him stop calling you pretty names, "you can call me nicknames too, you know."

"no." you scoot up in his lap, and he has the willpower and strength of a fucking god, because he does not, in fact, whimper like he could have. could have! but didn't. you really should not fucking do that, but you don't know any better. he has to remind himself that you don't know that you sitting in his lap and gliding against him is enough to set his soul on fire.

dean raises an eyebrow up at you as you resettle on his stomach, your knees under his armpits. he sets the remote aside, his hands going to your waist to steady you. to steady you, he tells himself, even though you've never looked more secure in your life. "no? don't even want to try one?"

"you're dean, and i'm baby. that's just how it is and has been." you lean down quickly, and dean actually gasps, stuttering on his breath in his throat, thinking you're going to kiss him. he deflates when instead, you press your forehead to his, nose-to-nose. you don't know better. it's a constant mantra in his head. "you can't go changing it up now."

"you could call me baby."

your minty breath fans across his face, your eyes trailing over every inch of his face. you always look at dean so reverently. no one has ever looked at him the way you do, like there's nothing broken and nothing to fix, just beauty in every crevice.

"i don't want to." the honesty makes him grin, shaking his head in his amusement.

your hands come up to hold his face in between them, your palms flat on his cheeks, the scratch of his late-night stubble tickling against delicate skin of your hands. he knows it tickles, just by how you start to giggle. god help him. "i could call you angel. or sweetheart. or darlin'. i could call you babygirl."

something shifts in your eyes. it's subtle, barely noticeable, but you've got your face against his and he can see everything from here. he traces his fingertips along your ribcage through your shirt — his shirt, actually, but it'd taken up permanent residence on you. "no."

"no?" he echoes again, his head tilting to the side. your grip on his face tilts it right back, and dean can't help but laugh heartily. "don't tell me my pretty baby hates bein' called babygirl."

"stop it." you're blushing. your skin is warm beneath his hands, and all he wants is to reach under your shirt and feel it properly. a reminder to himself that you were real, and not some hyper-realistic delusion he'd been having for weeks.

it's all too easy to tip his chin up, so close to kissing you that his mouth opens and he feels the brush of your lips against his like electricity. "why? you're baby, and you're a girl. what's wrong with that?"

dean hadn't ever riled you up before. sure, he'd pissed you off, he'd endured plenty of verbal lashings from your sharp tongue, but this was new. this was the first indication that you loved him like he wanted you to love him.

"not funny."

"very funny, baby," and then suddenly, it's just as unfunny as you said, because your eyes fall to his mouth, and now he's a bit frozen in place. he bunches up the sides of your shirt beneath his fingers so it's raised enough for him to slip his fingers beneath, the warmth of your skin against his sending shivers down his spine.

you're going to kiss him, he thinks. you won't know what it means, and you definitely aren't going to know what you're doing, but he's already prepared for that. he'll guide you. he'll show you everything, actually, as long as you let him.

it's barely a proper touch of your mouth to his, but it's electric. he leans up to chase more of it, to seal the words into your mouth—

the hotel room door clicks as the lock releases, and dean stutters back with a jolt, his head knocking against the headboard. you turn your head to the door, not even bothering to move even though you really, really should, dean's a fucking wreck and you almost kissed him and—

"oh, come on, dean." sam's irritation is visible when he meets his brother's eyes, shrugging off the coat he was wearing.

dean lifts his shoulders in an exasperated shrug. "we are witching the witcher, sammy."

lore points at the tv screen. "you are not watching anything. you are queued up to watch cocomelon."

dean stretches his neck to look over your shoulder, and his expression flattens. he was fine with lore, he didn't have any qualms against her existence, but he was beginning to regret letting you swindle into creating her.

dean doesn't know if he's thankful or not when you climb off of his lap and go over to lore, already babbling about... god, what did you two even talk about? every time he tried to focus on the two of you together, he instead just zeroed in on you, and everything else went blank.

everything was still blank now. he watches your eyes light up with the weight of your joy, and he can't help but wonder if it meant anything at all, or if it was just a moment that you two had, and nothing more.

once again, all dean could do was hope it was something more.

notes. how many times will dahlia change her format for baby!reader: the people may never know. this came out sm longer than expected PLSSSS I JUST LOVE BABY & DEAN OKAY !!!

tags. @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @jensenacklesballsack @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra @h8aaz @mahi-wayy @bejeweledinterludes @h8aaz @jjmbbg @valjy

[bradleysass]

Pretend - @black-brothers-microfic - wc: 804

“Sirius, can we pretend to be close brothers for once?”

Sirius is halfway through lighting a cigarette when he hears the words. His fingers slip, the flame flickers out, and he turns, finding Regulus standing stiffly in the doorway of Grimmauld Place’s decrepit kitchen.

His first instinct is to say something sharp. Something about how pretending implies they aren’t, in some way, still brothers, and how that’s just so like Regulus—to act like their bond is a lie rather than something broken. But there’s something in Regulus’ voice. Not cold. Not resigned. Just... tired.

So Sirius just leans back against the counter, flicking the lighter open again but not igniting it. “Alright,” he says after a pause. “What do close brothers do?”

Regulus shifts his weight like he’s second-guessing this whole thing. But then he takes a step forward. “They talk.”

Sirius snorts. “Well, we’re already doing better than we did as kids.”

Regulus rolls his eyes but doesn’t retreat, which Sirius counts as a win. He gestures to the chair across from him. Regulus sits, looking down at his hands like he’s about to confess a crime.

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “Is this where you tell me you’ve been secretly killing people in your spare time? Because I have to say, that would be—”

“James,” Regulus blurts out.

Sirius freezes. Then he groans, tipping his head back. “Oh, come on.”

Regulus tenses. “Forget it.”

“No, no, you dragged me into this,” Sirius says, rubbing his temples. “I thought this was going to be about existential dread or Mum’s voice in your head or, I don’t know, how much you secretly love the family tapestry. But James?”

Regulus scowls. “Never mind.”

“Nope, we’re doing this. Close brothers, remember?” Sirius leans forward, leveling him with a look. “What about James?”

Regulus exhales sharply. He’s gripping his own wrist like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. He doesn’t answer immediately, but Sirius is patient, for once.

“…I don’t know what to do with it,” Regulus finally mutters.

Sirius’ brows furrow. “With what?”

Regulus flicks his eyes up to him, and suddenly Sirius understands.

“Oh,” he says, exhaling. Then, “Oh.”

Regulus clenches his jaw. “Say something.”

Sirius whistles low. “Well, first of all, ew.”

Regulus glares.

“I’m just saying, ew because it’s James.” Sirius holds up his hands. “But alright. Let’s be serious—no pun intended.” He leans on the table. “Are we talking can’t stand him but think about him all the time kind of thing, or I have written his name in my diary kind of thing?”

Regulus scowls. “I don’t have a diary.”

Sirius smirks. “So the first one, then.”

Regulus stays silent, but his fingers flex like he wants to hex something. Which, for Regulus, is as good as a confession.

Sirius lets out a long breath, dragging a hand down his face. “Alright, well, here’s the thing. James is… James. He’s loud, he’s ridiculous, he’s frustratingly kind, and worst of all—he’ll probably love you for it.”

Regulus flinches. “That’s the problem.”

Sirius studies him, then lets out a quiet oh. Because of course that’s the problem. Regulus has never known what to do with people who care about him. He was raised in a home where love was conditional, where affection was earned, and now he’s faced with James Potter—who loves so recklessly, so freely—and it terrifies him.

Sirius softens. “Reggie.”

Regulus glares at the nickname, but Sirius ignores it.

“I know it’s scary,” Sirius says, more serious now. “But you don’t have to earn it. He’s not a test you can fail. He just—loves. And for some gods-forsaken reason, it looks like you’re on the receiving end of that.”

Regulus swallows. “I don’t know how to…” He trails off, frustrated. “I’m not like you.”

Sirius scoffs. “Oh, thank Merlin. If there were two of me, the world would be in flames.”

Regulus gives him a flat look.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Look, you don’t have to be me. You don’t have to be anyone but you. And if James likes that—you let him.”

Regulus exhales through his nose, still looking unconvinced.

Sirius leans back, smirking. “And if you ever break his heart, I get to kick your arse.”

Regulus lets out a quiet, reluctant huff. “I’d like to see you try.”

Sirius grins. “See? We’re already getting the brother thing down.”

Regulus shakes his head, but there’s something lighter in his expression. He stands up, nodding once. “Thanks.”

Sirius nods back. “Anytime.”

Regulus turns to leave, pausing only once at the door. “And Sirius?”

“Hm?”

Regulus hesitates. Then—so quietly Sirius almost doesn’t catch it—he says, “You don’t have to pretend.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Sirius staring after him, cigarette long forgotten.

For once, Sirius doesn’t feel the need to say anything.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 150 (Inventing - or Reinventing? - Time Travel)

To research the possibilities of time travel, Felix Psyded, Esquire, and his girlfriend, Lilith Pleasant, had spent months at Laurel Library in Britechester. Emit's knowledge had proven helpful, but his device was too advanced for modern times and required materials yet to be discovered. They had a lot to learn, and often studied late into the evening.

These two - an attorney and a podcaster - knew next to nothing about programming or biometric sciences. But Lilith, especially, was determined to make a device to chase Emit's time thief, and Felix would stay by her side in any decade.

"I checked out a copy of A History of Time Travel like Ash suggested," she said eagerly. Felix quickly flipped her laptop to The Sims Archives, Volume 2, disguising the webpage he'd really been reading. "Are you enjoying the game? I didn't realize how much I missed playing it!"

He nodded absentmindedly, and Lilith noticed. She was about to raise the question when her twin sister, Angela, emerged from behind the bookshelves with a programming guide. "Geez, this stuff is difficult," she complained. "How are you planning to learn all this to make a time travel device?"

"Ash was taken with a faulty remote," explained Lilith. "He said we need to program it correctly or we might end up lost in time, but he's been a huge help on some things we just can't wrap our heads around."

"It's pretty crazy to let a nine-year-old help you build a device to jump through time. And how did he invent it already, because Emit's here, but not invent it yet at the same time?"

Lilith scowled at her twin. They'd been polar opposites since high school, and Lilith always felt a sense of moral superiority oozing from her earthy pastel pores. "Why are you even here, Angela? We didn't ask you for help."

"Excuse me for being interested!"

A librarian shushed them from somewhere beyond the tall rows of mahogany bookshelves, and Lilith leaned in to whisper. "You're not interested in the device, you're interested in Emit."

Angela caught herself before she let out a yowl, aghast at the suggestion. "A blue-haired time traveler? Please! Do I look desperate?"

Felix poked his head in gently, having built up a good relationship with Lilith's family. "No, but you look infatuated every time he's on TV. I don't blame you, really. He's polite, and he could well be handsome behind those sunglasses. He's mysterious; it's alluring!"

"Lil, if you're not careful, you're going to lose your boyfriend to Emit Relevart."

Lilith rolled her eyes and changed the subject as Angela huffed. "Ash thinks we need to look for something called a shard of time, which he first read about in Theoretical Electronics. He reads so fast, it's amazing! He says the shards are hard to spot, but if you look at something long enough, relax your mind, you'll see slight discoloration in an object. Once you see it, you can pick it up with your fingers. Ash said he found one on the toilet in his bathroom at home."

(This is Ash pondering time travel on the toilet for the quest points. I know it doesn't look like it but some of the event reward animations are sus or my game is broken. The actual books - Theoretical Electronics and A History of Time Travel - never appeared in Lilith's hands. That's why she's reading a violin skill book, which she picked herself when she was done reading the invisible books.)

"So you're going to go stare at toilets for a while?"

"Refrigerators, too," said Felix.

"This is so weird, you guys. Are you really serious about this?"

"After Felix is done work tomorrow, we're going back to Willow Creek to talk to Emit some more." Angela tried to stuff her hopeful expression and Lilith let out an exaggerated sigh. "Did you want to come with us?"

"Well...if you think I'd be helpful I'd be happy to-"

"Ange..." Lilith pursed her lips. She loved her sister, but she was always like this. "I said you could come and meet Emit. Don't act like it's a favour to me."

They made it to Willow Creek Park the next evening, where they found Emit still wandering the paths. He smiled and waved when he spotted the girls waiting for Felix near the public restroom. "Lilith Pleasant! I hoped you'd be back. Most of the gawkers have been unserious, and they don't come around as much now that the news cycle's moved on a little."

"We wouldn't know where to begin, but we've been getting help from someone...Does the name Ash Landgraab mean anything to you?"

After everything they'd learned about Ash's visit from the ghost of Marco, Lilith posed her question carefully. When Emit frowned, shaking his head, her shoulders dropped in relief. "Everyone's heard of the Landgraabs, but Ash Landgraab doesn't really ring a bell. Why?"

The sisters looked at each other. "When you're from, who invented time travel?"

Emit laughed as Felix joined them. "That's one of life's great mysteries! It's thought whoever invented it wanted - or needed - to be protected, so their identity was kept secret. When I was at the academy, there were rumours the inventor was a kid and that's why their name was never recorded, but some say people did know, and the inventor was well known once upon a time, but the truth was lost to history."

Felix chuckled. "Perhaps the truth was hidden by another time thief."

Lilith and Angela laughed with him, but Emit's face held a stern expression. "Time thieves aren't that funny. They could erase history as we know it if they try hard enough. Some days, my wristboard pings so often, each time they move to a new time, I can't possibly chase them alone. We're lucky the one we're dealing with is just dropping household furnishings all over the place. So far." He dropped his voice in an ominous tone. "But even that could break the strings holding time in place."

"Wow, you know so much!" Angela gushed at the blue-haired man, and he looked back to Lilith with a curious expression.

"Is this your clone?"

Lilith laughed, but Angela laughed louder. "This is my twin sister, Angela."

"It's nice to meet you, Angela."

They shared a sweet smile, and Lilith glanced knowingly at Felix. "We also wanted to ask you about shards of time," she said. "Where are the best places to look for them?"

Emit looked back to Lilith as though he'd forgotten she was there. "Shards? Oh shards! Sorry, our tech hasn't had to use shards for a long time. Shiny surfaces are best, but I suppose they could be anywhere, really, if you look long enough."

"That's what Ash said."

"This Ash sounds fascinating. I'd like to meet him, or his guardians, since you mentioned last time he's a child, didn't you? You're...you're not saying he's the one who invented time travel..."

"He hasn't yet," said Angela. "He's almost ten, but these two would probably be hopeless without him. He's the one who discovered the shards."

"A child Landgraab invents time travel? That is a headline!"

"His parents - at least his mother and his stepfather - don't want people hounding him the rest of his life."

"I don't blame them. It's important to protect children - even brilliant ones."

"Should you meet him some day, I think you'd be quite impressed by him," said Felix. "He's nothing like the rest of the Landgraabs."

Emit laughed. "What do you mean? The Landgraabs are incredible. They spent six billion simoleons to end global hunger and built the ship that stopped the asteroid. A Landgraab is president of Simlandia right now. Well, right where I came from."

Felix shared looks of surprise with Lilith and Angela. "Maybe Marco's stunt changed more than we thought," he mused.

Felix and Lilith paid attention to each other while Angela made small talk with Emit. But Emit seemed uninterested in her flirty advances, which he returned with friendly nods and turned glances.

Before they left him in the early hours of the morning, Felix gave him a burner phone so they could reach out if they had more questions. Emit took the untraceable phone willingly, glancing quickly at Angela before sending them home with polite goodbyes.

When they got back to the old three-story home they shared with Angela and her parents in Gibbs Hill, Lilith quickly went to bed. But Felix was mulling something over in his mind.

He tried reading, but his mind moved too fast to take in the paragraphs. When dawn finally broke and he left for work the next morning, he called his favourite grumpy police captain on the way.

"Hey. I know it's early, but I was wondering if you had a few minutes. I've got a problem I need to talk about..." ->

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Last shot is of Felix is his work attire and not on the phone with Conrad because I liked it. He is not without swagger!

NOTE: If you've played through the event, you know the story is diverging a bit from the strict tasks since Emit isn't the sole source of information for Lilix here. Also, Angela had that instant attraction to Emit and I want to see if I can see that through. Even though Emit is being very professional-adjacent about it, he accepted some of her flirts, but not all, so I gave it a rest before he got mad. But once again, I'm making something much bigger than it is for the sake of plot.

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I Know You? Part 15

Synopsis: You’re angry at Red Hood, not Jason.

Notes: so, this got really angsty at the end. I don’t know what happened. I knew ya’ll where so excited to have our boy back, and everything with Jason is fine, but Red hood… it's rough. Anyway, I guess, enjoy?

Masterlist

When you woke from your nap, you did a mild pick-up of your apartment (not really, just moved things around so it looked more organized), then you sat on your couch to watch TV. You hated it. Your mind would lose focus and wander to other things, things you didn’t want to think about. It led to you staring at your hands far too many times, picturing blood that was no longer there.

You noticed that your knuckles were dried out, cracking a little. It was odd. In the three years you’d lived in Gotham, you never had an issue with dry skin, considering it was an island on water. You rub at the chapped skin and realize you’ve been overwashing your hands without thinking about it. Neither the girls nor Jason had mentioned it, although with how you keep your apartment, you imagine they didn’t think anything of it. You were having a serious Macbeth moment that worried you, but what else could you do?

At the usual designated time slot, you unlocked your window and waited. And waited. And waited. Nearly three o'clock in the morning, you startle awake on your couch. You practically jump over to the window, having heard a noise on the fire escape, but you find nothing more than one of the neighbor's cat on the fire escape. It blinks at you before scampering up the stairs on the escape. You sigh and accept that he isn’t coming tonight.

The upset that had simmered over the past few days returns. You collect his jacket from where it hangs by your door and march to your window. You shove it open, shivering from the cold air, and toss the jacket onto the escape. There was no reason for you to hold onto it. If he wanted it, he could come and get it because obviously, he didn’t want to talk to you, so you didn’t want to talk to him.

You went to bed upset and tossed and turned for the rest of the early morning. By seven o'clock, you gave up on the idea of sleeping. You paced around your apartment before you came to an understanding with yourself. Cass and Steph were right, you couldn’t stay at home forever. That, and you really needed a distraction, even if it was only for four hours.

****

Jason had been worried on patrol all night. Steph and Cass had reported to him that overall, you seemed okay, if not a little overwhelmed in crowded places. He was shocked when they said they had taken you shopping, surprised you willingly left your apartment. He was mostly happy to know that you were on the up-and-up of your traumatic experience much faster than he would’ve thought. Or at least a little bit. They had told him that while you hadn’t rushed them out the door, there was a certain relief on your features as they were leaving, no doubt about finally having an evening for yourself after constantly having people around.

It’s the reason he didn’t show up that evening, at least that you saw. He had stopped by in his old way, across the street on the roof, around one in the morning. He could see your TV running and spotted the lump that was you asleep on the couch. White noise, he assumed. The TV would be better than silence. He didn’t even check the window, just threw a longing glance at your apartment before moving on his patrol, you constantly in the back of his mind. You clearly needed the time alone, which is why he was surprised when he received a text from you about mid-morning.

You: I’m going to work today walk me home?

He didn’t even respond; just picked up the phone and called you. You answered immediately.

“I only tease you about technology, I know you know how to respond to a text.” Is the first thing you say. Jason can feel the tension leave his shoulders just at the sound of your voice. He shakes his head and refocuses.

“Sweetheart,” had he paused, he would have heard the audible pleased sigh that escaped your lips at the name, “are you sure you're ready to go back to work?”

“I don’t really have a choice. I already called Jackie and told her I would come to work half a shift.” You're clearly making up a reason not to back out, dependable.

“I’ll call back and tell them you changed your mind.” He states, not wanting you to force yourself into it.

“Worry not, I haven’t changed my mind.” You tease. The lilt of your voice when you get like this was something Jason hadn’t realized he missed. You were doing better if your attitude was anything to show for it. After a moment of silence, Jason caught up in the sound of you getting ready for work, you repeat the question you had texted.

“Will you come walk me home?” He answers quickly, easily, despite how tired he was from his night of patrol and bad sleep (worrying about you).

“Course. What time do you get off?” There’s a clatter on the other end of the line (a surprised drop from how quickly he answered), and he’s about to ask if everything is okay, but you respond, rushed, about when you get off.

“And what time do you go in? I can walk you to work, too.” He offers. He hears you suck in a stuttered breath all movement stopping.

“It’s okay, Jay. Daylight hours, I’ll be fine.” You reassure him. Jason wouldn’t admit it aloud, but his stomach fluttered at the way you said Jay. You had never called him that before and even though it was just a shortened version of his name, you said it so sickly sweet that it got to him.

“Alright,” He concedes only because he knows you might berate him if he asked if you were sure about it. He manages to keep you on the phone until you're nearly to work, idle silence mostly filling the space between you two. He enjoyed learning that you talk to yourself sometimes as you get ready, and you will share whatever you see with him as you walk, a dog, some trash on the street, or a motorcycle that made you think of him. You had rushed a goodbye to him just as you opened the door to Jackie’s. He eyed the time. Four hours to waste.

Jason only lasted three hours before he showed up at Jackie’s. He parked his bike in its usual spot in front of your building and tried to take his time walking. It didn’t work. You were walking by with a plated muffin as he opened the door. Your eyes lit up when you saw him, and you greeted him happily.

“Jason!” You held the plate away from your body as you leaned towards him, and without thinking, he pressed a kiss to your temple, hand on your shoulder to steady you. When he pulls back to really look at you, he finds your under-eyes puffy and your eyes red, like you’d been crying. He’s about to ask you about it, but you were off to drop the muffin. He hesitates at the door, wondering if he should sit or wait for you to come back. You stop at the table and start talking to the customers. He takes that as his cue to sit down.

He brought his book like always, considering he was early anyway. He reads, periodically glancing up like you'll materialize right in front of him. He becomes focused on his book when you appear. You set his designated drink on the table and sit down in the booth next to him, sliding until your touching, thighs and shoulders pressed. You sag against the seat, and he nearly does the same. He turns his head to look at you, an odd angle, but he doesn’t want to pull away. Your hand wiggles where your thighs meet, and without a second thought, his fingers curl around yours.

“Hi.” Your voice is drained, but you look happy as you settle your chin on his shoulder to meet his eye.

“Hi,” he replies, and before he can ask you his question, you answer.

“I’m okay,” you say with a grin.

“Then why do you look like you’ve been crying?” He brings his free hand to press at your cheek, thumb rubbing at the delicate skin under your eye. Your eyes flutter, and you pull your face off his shoulder and out of his hand.

“Darla brought her granddaughter in.” Your eyes start to water again. “She was so cute and just so small,” your hand leaves his to show him, “Her little head fit in my hands.”

Jason nearly laughs at you for crying about a baby, but the way you pout at him makes him stop. He pats your thigh as a means to comfort you.

“Okay, but you seemed high-spirited when I came in,” he says. You roll your eyes and bring your hand up to swipe at a tear.

“Because Darla brought her granddaughter in,” you say it like it’s obvious, like he’s just being silly for asking the question. He gives you a look, and you shake your head.

“Between Darla and baby Claire, the girls, and you, it was a good reminder that life is long and not just the now. Not everything is bad, there’s still good in the world.” You add, picking at your cuticles. Jason understands now, maybe a little too much. He had spent a year trying to take over Gotham and get back at Bruce. A year with nothing good shining through the darkness. Focusing just on the bad will do that. You seem more even-balanced than he ever was. A silence settles between you two, it's not awkward, though. You stop picking at your hands and settle your head on his shoulder.

“I think I'm tired, too,” you murmur. “It’s making me a little sensitive, I think.” The silence returns, your hands threaded with Jason’s again, and he almost thinks you’ve fallen asleep until the door dings, and you’re up and out of the booth and in record time.

The next hour is spent easily. You’d return and sit for a little while and then leave to attend customers before coming back again. At the end of the work hours, you slide next to him, now apronless. You settle against his shoulder again, reading the book with him. At the end of the chapter, he closes the book and looks at you.

“Ready?”

 “As I’ll ever be,” you answer, sliding out of the booth and working to zip up your jacket. It's a new one, Jason thinks, having never seen it on you before.

“New Jacket?” Your hands stutter your movement at the question.

“I lost my other one, had to drag this one out of storage.” You mumble. Jason thinks for a moment, trying to figure out where you would have lost your jacket. He had seen you wearing it about a week ago before he remembers. When Red Hood pulled you out of the warehouse, he had given you his leather jacket because you didn’t have one. If you had been walking home, you would have been wearing one, which means it's either still in that warehouse or in a police evidence locker. Jason felt guilty for a moment, like he should have gotten you a new one so you didn’t have to drag one out for storage. One that had clearly seen better days based on the melted hole on the sleeve near your wrist.

You don’t give him time to question or offer because you're already headed for the door. He’s quick to rush ahead of you to open the door. You give him a smile with a scrunched nose like you might tease, but you keep your mouth shut. Once out the door and walking down the street, your gloved hand slips into his pocket where his hand was. Fingers curl together in the warmth of the pocket, and Jason has never been happier.

If he was completely honest, the almost two days away from you were ridiculously hard. You were like a drug to him, and his withdrawal made him antsy, waiting to see you again. Enough so that Damian had pointed it out while they were taking down an arms deal. Damian, who is so much like his father when it comes down to the mission. Jason had denied anything, but Damian had just given him a deadpan look that reminded Jason of when Damian was a baby in the league. He pulled himself together for the rest of the patrol.

Walking with you is much like walking with you on the phone, idle silence, and pointing at things of interest. The walk was slow, even though you looked tired and no doubt ready to be home. Once you reached your apartment building, Jason realized why.

“Thank you for walking me home, Jason.” Your touch slips from his, and you sway on your feet, unsure. You were really tired, exhausted even. It irked you that you only worked four hours and felt like you did a double shift. It probably didn’t help that you had practically bawled your eyes out when Darla brought in her granddaughter, a reminder of where life had started, how far you’ve come, and how far you have yet to go. She had shaken her head at you and let you hold the little girl longer than necessary.

Being so tired, you just wanted to sleep, but you didn’t want Jason to leave. During the time the girls were with you, beyond curiosity, you hadn’t really thought about him, but the moment they were gone was a whole other story. Without distraction, you had become conscious of a Jason-shaped gap in your chest.

You knew you liked Jason, that wasn’t news to you, but this was different. It was a tender, nearly guilty feeling. You felt like, perhaps, he was just indulging you and your affections in the last week because you had been through something traumatic. It's why you were not inviting him up to your apartment (and subsequently into your bed). You wanted to, desperately, having already come to terms with the fact that you sleep better next to him. But you can’t do it, not if he’s just gentle and sweet on you because that’s what you need right now.

He stares at you, and you shift on your feet. You feel like your old way of things are filtering back in. He turns without a word to his bike, same spot as always, and you think he’s going to leave without saying anything until he turns back to you. He holds a rectangular box, only a little bigger than your hand. He holds it out to you expectantly, a slight pink on his cheeks. He speaks as you take it and open it.

“I’m always more than willing to walk you to and from work, but if you're insistent about guilt-tripping yourself out of asking me, at least you’ll be able to protect yourself.” You glance up to glare at him for the guilt trip comment, but it falters when you see his knowing look. Inside the box is an unassuming smaller black box with grip grooves on the side. It kind of reminds you of an old Nokia phone. You pick it up and turn it over in your hand, confused.

“It’s a taser,” Jason says, your whole hand hold changes to two fingers holding it away from you. Jason laughs.

“It’s not a gun, sweetheart,” he takes it from you and edges into your space to show you how to use it. A button on the side to start the electricity startling you and he explains where to aim if someone grabs you and then he’s handing it back to you.

“And it’ll fit in your bag.” He adds like he’s trying to sell it to you. You glance at the said bag, then at the taser, then at him. He seems a little flustered, and it makes you grin; the tender, less guilty version of your feelings works its way across your body.

“Thank you, Jay,” his flush deepens slightly in a way that makes you want to tease him just to see how dark the red would get (or perhaps to see how low it would go), but you reel yourself in. You do stand on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek that he seems pleased about.  He nods and pulls back to get his helmet.

“See you later?”

“yea”

He climbs onto his bike, and you take an appreciative glance, having forgotten how good he looked on his bike. He waves at you, and you return the gesture before he’s gone. You sigh as you climb the stairs into your building. You were in deep with this boy, and you had no idea what to do with it.

****

You did manage to take a nap, longer than you expected. Long enough to keep you awake in the middle of the night, which you had not planned. You’re sat at your island, sipping a warm lemon water trying to lull yourself to sleep when you hear the creak of the fire escape. Your whole body freezes. You know it’s Red Hood this time, the noise more obvious. You don’t know why you thought the cat yesterday was him. You hear a knock on the window.

You don’t move from your spot, instead taking another sip of your water, back still facing the window. You wait for him to leave. You had left his jacket out there the night before. There was nothing else he needed here.

He knocks, and you feel your upset and anger flare again. Why can't he just leave you alone? Can't he tell you don’t want to talk to him? You hear the squeak of your locked window opening, a cold breeze drifting in, and then the window closing. You finally turn to glare at him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The jacket you had left outside is already draped on the back of a chair at the dining table. His helmet is off but still in his hands. You wish he had kept the helmet. His normal, hard-set features are that of a kicked puppy. Thank god his eyes were covered because if they weren’t, you would probably have folded at the sight of them. He suddenly seems hesitant, frozen mid-motion, to set his helmet down.

“What?” his voice is quieter than you think you have ever heard. Your chest aches. You missed him in the past four days, but you wouldn’t let that deter you. You were angry and rightfully so; he got you kidnapped.

��I said, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ I left your jacket outside and locked the window so you wouldn’t come in.” You regret the way you're speaking to him. This isn’t like you, but your outrage oversteps your regret.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he says, slowly setting his helmet on the dining table. You glare at the harsh red metal.

“I’m fine. Get out.” You say flatly. This was hurting you more than you’d like to admit. Red Hood was a friend, a good friend, but his presence led to the disaster that was that night in the warehouse. You got kidnapped because of him, and he didn’t even save you; you saved yourself, and you weren’t proud of it.

“It’s okay if you’re not. You killed someone. That’s not something you just get over.” He says. It wasn’t lost on Jason the fact that you hadn’t told anyone what happened with Ted Jackson. He had talked to Cass and Steph about it and had a long conversation with Bruce in Cave about it that Barbara had inserted herself into regarding what she knew from her father, unofficially, of course.

He takes a step forward, and you take a stunned half-step back. You press yourself against the island, despite him being nowhere near you. Your hands curl around the counter edge, and Jason can see your nails digging underneath. This had been what he’d been worried about. Every time he had badged you about how you were doing as Jason was him, trying to goad you into talking about this. He had worried that you had locked it away in your mind as something to deal with later, but he had already seen spurts of it leak into the way you reacted to things. Despite being hopeful that you would talk to Red Hood about it because he already knew, Jason is sorely disappointed when you just repeat your words.

“Get. Out.” Your words are hard, but your voice shakes as you speak them: “I want you to leave and never come back.” Your eyes are watery, but the rest of your features are set harshly. He’s surprised by it. He didn’t think you could look so…cold.

“Sweetheart,” he offers the name softly, trying to coax you into talking, but you cut him off, voice louder than before.

“You don’t get to call me that.” You point an accusatory finger at him, “You don’t get it. I want you out of my apartment, and I want you out of my life.” There’s a light streak of tears slowly moving down your cheek. Jason doesn’t like the way this conversation feels; his heart hurts in the way you speak to him, especially after knowing the blissful touch of your affection. He has to remind himself that you're talking to Red Hood, not to Jason.

“Listen-” He tries again, but now you’re wound up.

“No, you listen! A man is dead, and it’s all your fault his blood is on my hands.” You present your palms like the blood was still there. “I don’t want you here.” Your words are harsh as you yell, despite the tears streaming down your cheeks. Jason feels suddenly inept that he can't comfort you, can’t press into your space, and wipe away your tears. All he can do is stand there and watch you.

You were right, He thought to himself. If he had been quicker, gotten to you faster, saved you like the alleged hero he was, you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this. Regardless of his years of training, he hadn’t saved you. Sure, you were alive, but you had taken a life. Something you never should have had to do. And while he was proud of you at the time (part of him was still proud of you for it, but that was his secret), he’s upset with himself for even letting it happen.

“Okay,” he resigns as he digs a hand into his pocket, “but before I leave, I have something for you.”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Your voice is weak and choked, and he hates it. He pulls out the locket necklace he had Barbara make for you, and he presents it, holding it by the chain.

“Jewelry won't fix any of this.” You sniffle. He sighs at your comment. He wants to step closer to you, to hand it directly to you, but he won't. He pops open the locket to show you the button inside.

“It's an emergency alert,” he meets your reddened eyes, “you were taken, and I couldn’t find you fast enough. If something happens, press this button and someone,” he doesn’t offer himself, “will come find you and help you, one of the bats. We’ll all get an alert that you're in trouble.”

He places it on the table and picks up his helmet, sliding it on, pulling on his jacket. You haven’t said anything else, only staring at the gold locket.

“Wear it, please. If not for my peace of mind, then for yours. I’m sorry… for everything.” You still don’t say anything. He takes that as his cue to leave. Out the window and down the street, he doesn’t even wait on the roof to watch you lock the window.

He was genuinely hurt, if not a little surprised by how the evening went. He had planned to talk to you about what happened, to help you deal with it all, to give you someone to talk to. He hadn’t expected you to blow up at him like that, hadn’t realized how good you were at hiding your inner turmoil from the people around you. He understands, he thinks, why you are upset.

However, it just made his plans that much harder. He wanted to tell you about being Red Hood. Not yet, but eventually. But if you hate Red Hood, carrying a disdain for him, what would happen if he did tell you the truth? He had told himself before that if you hated him for Red Hood or his feelings, then that would be fine, but now, seeing the blank glare you had given him the entire time. He doesn’t think he could do it. It might actually kill him if you looked at Red Hood and Jason like that. Maybe it just won’t ever come out. Maybe he could hide it forever, right? That will work out just fine, he decides

****

The moment you see his figure disappear from the fire escape, you break down sobbing. You collapse on the floor and curl in on yourself. You hate this, you hate this. This ugly, complicated feeling, you hate it so much. Why? Why did you have to feel like this? You thought everything was fine, that you were over it, that you were dealing. It’s okay if you’re not. Both Jason and Red Hood had said something along those lines. Your stupid Jar rattles, and you wish it was real so you could chuck it at a wall.

As much as you hated the way you were feeling, you hated yourself more for how you spoke to him, hated the way you just let the words slip out. Words spoken in anger were the ones most regretted. You didn’t want him to leave your life forever. You wanted him to come back, to be there for you. Even if it was just to judge your cooking skills and tease you about your pickiness.

He was your friend, and you didn’t have a lot of those. Of course, you chased him off, letting your fear of loss hide under a shield of anger. You can't let a good thing last. Better to make it bad before it’s gone.

You sat on the floor, having your own personal pity party for longer than you're proud of. By the time you stood up, your hips ached from sitting on the hardwood floor. You throw a longing glance at the locket but don’t pick it up or go near it. You drag yourself into your bed and curl into a ball. You feel cold, sad, and ashamed. Ashamed for yelling and letting your emotions get out of hand. You cry yourself to sleep, wishing you could take everything back.

Additional Notes: I am so sorry about that ending. That was so rough. Anyways, next week is a filler chapter with Jason. Yay for complicated feelings. Thank you for reading. Let me know what you guys thought! <3 <3

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant

[httpsminsgirl]

please wounded leehan getting into a fight with some guy that was flirting with you or sum and now you’re taking care of his wounds and he starts kissing you and getting so possessive

nah because this is so hot... possessive guys and wounded guys... yes please !!! hope you like it... I really REALLY tried my best

''You're mine, only mine.'' K.LH

sypnosis: your boyfriend Leehan got in a fight with an annoying guy that was almost harassing you at the club. He might have won the fight and your heart once again, but he also got some 'battle scars' and now you were back home tending those. pair: Leehan x f!reader contains: suggestive, making out, no intercourse just masturbating (f receiving), ''pretty'', ''darling'', ''baby'', PRAISING!!, hair pulling, dom! leehan, possessive! leehan, marking, height difference. A/N !!!!: I'm dyslexic and english is not my first language so I apologize for any grammar mistakes or any misplaced/mising/wrong punctuation! low case intended!! (WC: 992)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶⊹︶︶

''you really need to stop behaving like this Leehan'' you said in a serious voice tone as you grabbed your boyfriend's chin keeping his face still, applying some iodine in his split eyebrow as he hissed slightly making you blow on it. ''he deserves it'' he whispered as his hands now rested on your waist caressing it softly. He started looking at you with his puppy eyes and you shook your head with a faint smile in your face ''don't look at me like that, it's not gonna make me less upset'' he chuckled and as you finished putting the band aid on his eyebrow he stood up and grabbed your chin forcing you to look up at him. ''come on, pretty. Don't be upset at me... you know how I get when some dude is trying to take what's mine''

''I know, I know... but no one's going to take me away from you'' you explained as he looked down at you. Both of his hands slowly but firmly going up and down your waist and hips as he brought you closer to him. You saw him licking his lips as he looked at you, now flushing you against his chest ''yeah? how so?'' he asked as his right hand climbed up to your face, caressing your cheek as he cut off the distance between you. ''how are you so sure of that?'' he asked now centimeters away from your face as you felt his warm breath. ''I just am... I don't want anyone else but you, Leehan'' you replied quietly as you swallowed gently looking into his eyes, his gaze turning into a darker one slowly. ''yeah?'' he asked whispering and you could feel your heart flutter and your breath catch in your throat slightly. He knew the power he had on you, specially whenever he spoke with his low soft voice. ''yeah''

''good... good girl'' he said before cutting the distance and start kissing you, it wasn't harsh, it was soft but full of passion. His left hand squeezed your hip as his right hand cupped your face tilting it to the side to deepen the kiss, as you started making out it became more and more needy. He just swiped the things off the bathroom counter with his arm not caring about the things that fell to the floor and grabbed your waist making you sit on it. he pulled away from the kiss to start trailing your jawline with kisses slowly going down to your neck. ''you only want me?'' he asked again and you nodded ''yes'' you replied with a breathy moan, putting your hands on his shoulders, as you said that he nipped on your neck making you gasp and he then started sucking on the skin there leaving a hickey ''L-Leehan'' you said now. ''shhh'' he cooed you softly to now go back to kissing you.

you corresponded the kiss as you caressed his shoulder and your hand went up to caress the hair on the back of his neck slowly going up. He opened your legs positioning himself in between them and bringing you closer to him letting you feel his dick which was already hard. ''tell me you're mine, darling'' he said as he pulled a bit back, looking into your eyes. His hand went to cup your face as his thumb brushed your lower lip and you felt his heavy breath. ''I'm yours'' he got closer ''again''.

''I'm-'' he cut you off as he started kissing you again, his hand that was cupping your face now going to your hair pulling it, forcing you to look up and giving him free way into your neck. ''you are...?'' he asked again expecting you to finish the sentence as he nipped on your skin leaving soft red marks, going to your bare shoulder that was exposed thanks to your low dress. ''I'm yours, Leehan''

''good girl'' he whispered now grinding against you making you moan. he lifted you up slightly to lift your dress and his hand instantly went to your clit caressing it on top of your lacy bottoms. He watched you moan and move your hips instinctively as he kept on teasing your clit, now sliding your panties to the side letting his fingers run along your pussy teasing your wet entrance. ''gosh, you're so wet for me baby'' he said almost moaning as his face was centimeters away from you, he licked his lips looking at your squirm slightly buckling up your hips trying to get his fingers to move. He started kissing you, a kiss that was almost bruising as he introduced his heart and middle finger into your needy hole. ''say it again, pretty'' he commanded, pulling your hair forcing you to keep your face up and look at him as he fingered you. ''I-I'm yours, Leehan'' you desperately said in between moans.

''yes... you're mine, only mine. Right?'' you nodded desperately and he started teasing your clitoris with his thumb. ''good, good'' he whispered just admiring you. He let your hair go and pulled your dress down exposing your tits to him. ''mine only mine'' he repeated in a low voice kneading your bare chest, his fingers kept on caressing your clit and fucking your hole rentlessly pushing you closer and closer. Noticing this he curled his fingers up reaching that spot that made your eyes roll back and moan louder. ''cum for me, pretty... cum for me if you're truly mine'' he said now, and you of course couldn't disobey his words. it didn't take you longer than seconds for you to start holding his arm strongly, as you tried to get closer to him looking for support and even comfort as he made you cum. He just cooed you softly, holding you. He let you ride the waves of your orgasm and once you were done he left a kiss on your temple.

[fandomtherapy44]

Work Rivals Gojo Satoru x Fem! reader

Paring: Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader

Warnings: SMUT, language

Reblog Banner and 18+ Banner

and divider

cafekitsune

CW: 1,815

Summary: Y/n and Gojo have always been in competition fighting for who's the best. So what happens when an elevator breaks down and they are forced to face their real feelings?

Satoru Gojo, how do you describe someone who is a giant pain in my ass! My whole life I have been in consistent competition with him our whole life. It started in high school, where in each class and each test I felt like if he was just one point above me he would be laughing about it to everyone. I mean, I wouldn't know, I haven't really met him, but I knew if I was not on top, my family would think I was a failure. We both come from super old families that always expected that we were the best in everything from classes to who had the best lunch. I’m serious about the lunch thing in elementary school, our parents would send chefs to school and would make whatever we wanted.

And somehow he would always beat me, always one point ahead of me. It made me infuriated, also my parents breathing down my neck did not help. So when we finally got out of high school, I thought I could breathe and focus on myself, I was very wrong. First day Gojo had my job too. Every day got worse and worse to this little competition. Also, it wasn't great that my friend thought he was hot and would constantly talk about him.

“Y/n!” She ran after me as we went for coffee. “Did you see Gojo this morning, like oh my gosh, can he get even more perfect like I’m pretty sure he was wearing a Gucci shirt.” She sighed dreamily.

“Kai, what does it matter if it’s Gucchi or not?” I muttered while stirring my coffee in my cup. Trying to hold back my disdain.

“Um, how about the fact he’s rich too Y/n!” She shoved my shoulder in disbelief. 

“He’s not that great!” I raised my voice without meaning to everyone who looked at me.

“You talk about him like he’s the devil reincarnated but you've barely spoken to him.” Kai studied me with suspicion.

“Wait? Don’t tell me you guys used to date!?” My eyes widened at that.

“No! God No! It’s just that we went to school together.” I mumbled again.

“WHAT!” I spring up and cover her mouth and drag her into another room.

“Don’t scream that!” I swatted at her.

“Girl how could you keep that from me! That you went to school with Gojo Satoru!” 

“It’s not like we're friends we actually were in more of a rivalry then anything.” I crossed my arms looking down.

“Is that why you pretty much hate him?”

“I don’t hate him… It just annoys me how perfect he is.”

“Gotcha… well if that was me I would have hopped on that white-haired train a long time ago.” She moves her eyebrows up and down in a suggestive way.

“I know everyone would if they could.” Another thing that annoys me. 

Our elevator sucks we've told our boss like twenty times to get it fixed so you know we don’t die, but it’s still broken. I enter it sighing thinking about all the work I had to do and then I hear a voice yelling to hold the door.

“Wait, hold the door!” It was a smooth, low voice, the kind that would make any person pass out. And of course, it has to belong to fucking Gojo Satoru.

“Close close come on close!” I slammed on the button but the thing is broken so it’s slow as all hell.

“Thanks L/n.” He has a little pep in his step getting in the elevator. I roll my eyes and step to the side. I have to say he looks handsome today. A white button-up and black tailored pants. A silver Rolex on his wrist, pointing attention to his veiny-toned forearms. When he shifts, you can see his muscles bulge through the white fabric, making you want to see more. His leather briefcase scented with a light pine mixed with his cologne which was a Seawood and cinnamon musk. I hated how he could just be that handsome without even trying.

“So how is your project going?” He asks me to try to past the grueling three minutes.

“It’s fine Gojo,” I stated flatly.

“What you're not going to ask back?” 

“Why would I? I’m sure it’s going great for Gojo Satoru.” I scartiscally say huffing out my chest. 

“What’s with the attitude L/n?”

“I don’t know, Gojo, maybe it’s the fact that you don’t even have to try.”

“You don’t think I have to try!” He angrily expressed.

“Really you're playing the dumb card. Fine play it that way.” I couldn't believe him acting like he didn't know what I was talking about.

“I really don’t know what you're talking about!” He threw back. It seemed all my emotions of the last years had piled up and were being released like pompi.

“What about the fact that you have always won every competition, every test and now even at my job!” He lets the words sink in.

“You mean those stupid competitions that our parents put us in when we were kids!?”

“They were never stupid to me!” I’m practically in his face now. The anger in my veins pushing me forward.

“Oh my gosh L/n! Is that why you've always been so pissy towards me just because I've won all those things! When it’s not even my fault!” When he puts it like that, I look at my actions.

“Well, if you did-” I have to stop because the elevator stops abruptly, making me almost slam into Gojo, making him catch me.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure someone will come soon.” He tries to reassure me.

The small canvan of the elevator is now encased in a blue emergency light barely letting us each other. But I can’t even open my eyes, being terrified, if I did open them we would throw down the shaft. He notices my fear and grabs my hand.

“Hey Y/n we’re going to be okay.” With those words, I opened my eyes and did something that surprised both of us. I kiss him. I don’t know compled me do so the fear coursing through my body or maybe it was years of pent up sexual frustotion in one kiss. As soon as I realized I did I let go.

“Gojo, I’m so sorry. I-” I didn't get to finish before he pulled me right back and slammed his lips on mine. Our lips had found a groove that we didn't know we were missing. This second kiss was desperate, messy, unrealting as he lead me to hit the back mirror. Our hands clawing at each other’s bodies. When we finally let go in the blue hue I could see his lips puffy and red and mine were left with a sweet sting. In that moment, his hands go around my waist and his lips go for my neck this time.

“I've always wanted to do this with you,” he whispers in my ear, making shivers go down my spine.

BELOW

“Oh you little-” I’m shut up by him biting down on my neck. “Fuck Gojo!” I moaned out.

“That’s what I like to hear~” He purred out. Gojo licks over my hickie and makes a mess, he suckles at my neck. His tongue licks all over the sore spot. He keeps on nipping and tugging on the spot making my body junt out looking for some more relief. He lets go and my neck is left feeling the cold, I then feel his bulge through his pants on my knee. I pull him by the tie.

“Does pleasuring women turn you on, Gojo?” I tell him as I nip and lick his ear shell. He nods his head. “Then let me show you my appreciation.” I pull at his ear again and get down on my knees. I slowly pull down his pants zipper. 

“You don’t have to Y/n.” He breathed out.

“But I want to Gojo.” I can see through his briefs that his cock was already leaking pre cum. And his bulge was taking up a lot of space of the outline. I reach up and pull his briefs down his cock pop’s up. It is the biggest I have ever seen, it’s about seven inches and his head is red and puffy, ready to be squeezed. I lick my hand and start pumping it. As I touch it, it instantly gets harder.

“You're so big Gojo don’t know how I’m going to fit this.” At that I put my mouth around it. 

“Ahh shit Y/n you feel so good.” he throw his hand to the wall to steady himself. His cock pusles around my tongue. My tongue makes rings around it. I can feel veins and his taste is delicious, it was sweet and salty. Like a chocolate crossient that would melt on your tongue. I start to deep throat and he can barely stand it. It doesn’t fully fit in my mouth so I have to use my hand to ring the rest. He then grabs my hair and starts to fuck in. He starts to go faster and faster. “I’m going to cum!” He let’s go. His cock flops out. “That was… fucking amazing Y/n.” That sent confidene all through my body.

“Thank you now are you going to fuck me with that monster or not.” He smirks and lifts me up my legs wrap his waist. 

“Of course I will I got to fuck the attiude out of you don’t I?” There’s the cocky asshole I like. HE goes to kiss me again. Our teeth mashing together. His hand travels down under my pencil skirt and rips my fishnet tights at my crotch. I am soaked.

“All this is for me huh?” He slid my panties to the side and line’s uo his cock. “I’m going to go in okay?” I nod and he steadily sinks in. Just at that I felt so full. “You feel so tight, Y/n so good let me know when I can move in.” I barely hear anything because I am so distracted by this feeling.

“You can move kay.” I get out somehow and he starts slowly thrusting up. I put my arms around his neck. His cock get’s comfortablpe and thicker. His hip’s mett mine with each thrust. His balls slapping against my pussy. It goes in circles, drawing more and more out of me. 

“How is it, Sweetness?” 

“So good toru~” I moan out. He then add’s a finger to my clit to really drive it home. “FUck!” My wetness is now gushing like a waterfall.

“That’s my girl almost there right?” 

“Yes!” He pumps a couple more time’s and my pussy squzze’s and we an sexual explosion we cum together. I guess Gojo Satoru isn’t too bad.

I also have another Gojo smut fic if you like! Valentine's Day

[flowery-mess]

kill the silence

Pairing: frat boy Noah x female reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / argument with reader's mother / mother's asshole boyfriend mentioned / mentiones of alcohol / I think that's it, let me know

Words: 2,8k

Author's note: don't you just love when writers self project themselves in their works? Because that's exactly what I did lol. Hope you like getting to know more of Ella's story💕

frat boy Noah masterlist

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“Can we talk about it?”

“Ella please, act like an adult.”

You rolled your eyes after reading your mom’s messages. Yesterday she called you on facetime to show you the big diamond on her finger, throwing the news of being engaged at you.

Your parents divorced when you were 4 and it has been a wild ride since then.

You stayed living with your mum, seeing your dad only a few times a month. You’d think that something like this would make your and your mom's relationship stronger, but it was the opposite.

She started dating different guys, but no one was serious enough for her to bring him home for good. She introduced you to some of them, but you never liked any of the men that walked through the door of your home. And you didn’t hide your dislike.

You never crossed a line with doing something rebellious, but you always made sure that they knew you’re not a fan of them with the way you talked to them or about them behind their backs.

Your mom always put up with it, but it brought lots of fights between you two. She never blamed you for her failed relationships, because they weren’t meant to last. Until she met him, Richard.

Richard was a few years older than her, with no kids and with a nice house. Moving to his place wasn’t a question, she just told you to pack your stuff. “You’re my child, you’re gonna follow me wherever I go. I don’t care that you don’t want to.” will probably replay in your head until the day you die.

Sadly for you you were still underage and with no other place to go, so you moved to his place and that’s where the hell started.

Heated arguments with your mom every day, silent treatments from both of you and cold shoulder for Richard. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance, you dismissed him at the very beginning.

You hated the house and you cried yourself to sleep every other night.

He turned out to be a narcissistic and arrogant guy which you couldn’t stand. You were counting the days until it was time for you to move away for college. The best thing that ever happened to you.

Seeing your mom and Richard less was a good thing for keeping the family relationships at least somehow working. After a few months of not seeing them you finally found the courage to come back for a weekend and somehow you three acted like the hell before you left never happened.

You got along with Richard for a few hours and then left their place again. It wasn’t home for you, it was just their place. And since then you visit them occasionally.

You got used to their relationship and swallowed all your opinions for your mother’s sake and happiness.

That was until yesterday though.

You didn’t know what reaction from you she expected, but it probably wasn’t “Are you fucking serious?” and hanging up on her. Since then you didn’t pick up any of her calls nor replied to any of her messages.

“Ella please, just a few minutes so we can talk about it.”

You read the next message and rolled your eyes again. You finished the drink in your hand before standing up and going outside.

Little did you know Noah was watching you look at your phone every other minute, rolling your eyes and making sad faces. He could tell something was wrong so he wasn’t surprised to see you storm out of the crowded living room.

He wanted to give you a few minutes and see if you come back, if not, he knows where to find you.

In the beginning of your friendship with benefits you two sometimes sneaked away from your friends and met in the backyard in a small place that was separated from the rest of the big garden by bushes. There was an old swing, too small for both of you, but it provided you lots of fun. Also the almost broken fence where Noah pinned you many times just to steal kisses from you was there. It became “your place” any time you two couldn’t find each other and texted the other “our place?” and time, you both were there.

Your place was exactly where you ran off. The drink you just finished gave you enough courage to face your mom’s voice over the phone and tell her your opinion.

She picked up almost immediately and started talking, but you cut her off.

“Finally darling, ca-”

“No mom, you let me talk now.” you started, taking a deep breath before letting it all out. “I’ve been silent for the past few years, but I can’t let you marry him without telling you my honest opinion.”

You kicked a few rocks that were laying around and walked back and forth, a habit of yours when you were too nervous.

“I don’t think he’s good for you. I don’t think he’s enough for you. You were always a strong independent woman who knew her worth, I never thought I'd see you running around a man like you do now. You always laughed at women who served food under their man’s nose or had to pack a bag for them. But now that’s you mom.” you stopped talking, expecting some protest from her, but there was just silence at the other side of the line.

“You do everything he says, you’re like his maid mom. That hurts me to see. You should find a man who’s gonna carry you in his arms and worship the ground you walk on, not someone who tells you he won’t eat the food you made because it tastes weird, but also refuses to cook his own meal. He’s a child mom.” you threw your hands up and down in a frustrating gesture.

She finally spoke and you could hear the hurt in her voice. “That’s not true Ella.”

“You know it is, you just don’t want it to be.”

“Listen, I know you don’t agree with my relationship, but you need to respect it. I’m finally happy.”

“I don’t think you really are.” you whispered back and couldn’t stop the tears running down your cheeks. Of course you want your mum to be happy, but if this is how happiness looks like, you hope you’ll never find it.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion. I just wanted to tell you that we will be sending invites next week and I’d really appreciate it if you’d come to the wedding.” there was a short break before she added “Please.”

She rarely used “please”, “thank you” or “I’m sorry” with you, so you knew how hard it must’ve been for her to say those words out loud.

“I have to think about it.” you told her the truth. You didn’t want to make any promises in case you’d decide to not attend in the end.

“You’re hurting me Ella.” there she was, back at attacking you for your feelings.

“Bye mom.” and before she could say anything else you pressed the red button and silenced her voice that could only say more hurtful things.

Your eyes stayed on the ground, colors of the grass and dirt mixing together as your tears formed in your eyes, one blink of your eyelids sending them down your cheeks.

You were hurting too. You were hurt, sad and angry. The anger took over your body and before you could think of what you were doing, you threw your phone away and only heard a loud bang when it landed somewhere in the dark in front of you.

When Noah thought you were gone for too long he decided to go after you. He found you with your back facing him, your hands by your sides, but you weren’t talking or moving, you were just standing there.

“Did something possess you?” he joked. He expected a silly comment back or you saying “shut up”, but you stayed silent.

The tears kept running down your cheeks, because you suddenly felt so small. You felt betrayed by your mother and you felt like you were standing in your childhood room listening to her “I don’t care what you want” speech all over again. You just wanted to cry.

You heard Noah's question, but what possessed you was just a pure sadness that was making it impossible for you to move or speak.

Noah made a few steps to be closer to you and reached for your hand, but before he could do that you finally spoke up.

“Can I have your phone?” even with your back still facing now very confused Noah, he could hear the tremble in your voice.

“What?”

“Your phone.” you turned around to face him. When you did, his confused face turned into something softer. He saw your wet cheeks and the small shakes of your chin. “I threw mine somewhere in the bushes and I need to find it.” you said it like it was the most obvious thing and waited for Noah to give you his phone.

He didn’t ask any questions and just handed you his phone, turning the flashlight on for you.

You turned around and went in the direction of where you thought your phone could be. Noah just stood there in silence, his eyes following your every move.

Well, now you really looked like something possessed you. Your hands were snapping the twigs that came your way, some of them got stuck in your hair while you tried to find your phone.

With no luck finding it, you got out of the bush and dived straight into another one.

“For fucks sake.” Noah couldn’t keep watching this shit show in front of him and yanked you out of the bush, took his phone from your trembling hand and started looking for your phone himself.

You cleaned yourself from the mess and leaves that were stuck to your clothes and hair. The need to escape this loud place made your body shake. You were thinking about telling Noah to stop and come for the phone tomorrow or even buy a new phone with a new number so your mum couldn’t call you again.

“Here.” Noah’s voice took you out of the trance you were in, looking at you with a proud smirk and leaves in his hair, but he had your black phone in his hand. And it looked like you didn’t break it when you threw it away.

“Thank you.” you took it out of his hand and put it in your pocket.

Noah, scared of what you’re going to do next, stood in silence and waited for your next move. But you just kept looking around, avoiding his face. You for sure didn’t make it easy for him.

“Do you want a hug?” he asked you, unsure look on his face.

“What?”

“Isn’t that what people want when they're sad?” just as he finished his question your hands were wrapped around his torso.

You didn’t want him to see you cry again, so you just hid your face in his sweatshirt. You tried to hold your sobs and cries in, but you felt like you’re going to explode, so you let everything out.

Noah didn’t know what else to do than just rub your back and gently sway you from side to side.

After a few minutes your breath calmed down and you stepped out of Noah’s arms, cringing at the wet spot on his grey sweatshirt.

“Sorry for that.” you whispered and pointed to the place that was covered in your tears.

Noah just looked down and laughed. “It’s okay. Come on, let's take you home.”

He took your hand in his, but you realized how crazy you must look after this meltdown, so you stopped in your tracks, making Noah stop too.

“I can’t go there. I look crazy.” you panicked.

“Yeah you do, but everyone is drunk at this point, they won’t notice.”

“No, Molly and Clara will and I don’t want to explain it to them.”

Noah just sighed and looked around, rubbing his jaw with his palm and thinking of ways to leave the fraternity without anyone seeing you.

“We can jump the fence.” he proposed.

“Are you out of your mind?” you looked at the tall metallic fence around you.

“It’s either that or the main door.”

“It’s impossible for me to jump over it Noah.”

“I’m gonna help you.”

You looked at the fence, then at Noah and then back at the fence.

He’s tall and strong and falling on your ass in front of him was better than doing the walk of shame.

“Okay.”

He led you in the direction of the fence. “Okay, so, you’re gonna put your feet in my hands and I’m gonna push you up. Then you have to carefully move over the top and jump down, okay?”

“How are you gonna do it?” you asked him, because there's no way you're going to help him from the other side.

“Haven’t thought of that yet.”

“God, don’t laugh at me if I fall.” you made him promise before he leaned forward and intertwined his hands low enough for you to step into them.

“Grab my shoulders. I’m gonna count to three and then push you up okay?”

“Okay.” when he started counting you were sure that neither of you knew what you were doing.

You felt yourself being lifted from the ground, reaching for the top of the fence and swung your leg over it, then the other one.

“Jump!” Noah yelled at you, because he was scared you’re going to fall back at him.

You closed your eyes and jumped, landing perfectly on your feet.

“I did it!” you turned around to see Noah through the metallic barricade between you, laughing at the situation.

It was Noah’s turn to jump over the fence and after a few failed attempts you had to hold in a laugh and said “You know you can walk through the inside and meet me in the parking lot?”

Before Noah gave you an answer, he was happy to hear you wanted to leave with him. He was scared you’re going to push him away and won’t let him comfort you like you did to him many times.

“Can’t let you have all the fun.” he snorted, laughing at himself after another failed attempt.

After he finally managed to climb to the top of the fence, one of his legs betrayed him and he fell down on his ass in front of you.

You gasped, not knowing if he was okay, but then you started laughing. He looked up at you, shame all over his face, but he couldn’t help laughing too.

“You know, I did that just to make you laugh. It was intentional.” he shrugged his shoulders after he stood up and used his hands to get rid of the dirt from his clothes.

“Smooth Sebastian, real smooth.” you laughed, but appreciated his attempts to lift your mood.

—

Noah paid for the cab to his place even though you insisted that after everything he’d done for you it was your turn to pay.

He sent you in the direction of his bathroom after he found a few leaves in your hair in the elevator and ordered some food while you washed the dirt of that night of your body.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Noah asked after he swallowed his food, looking at you at the other side of his sofa.

“Not really. Long story short, my mum is engaged to her ass boyfriend, we had a fight over the phone and I’m probably gonna have to buy a new dress for their wedding.”

“I’m sorry.” he didn’t know what else to say. Your mood was better now, no more tears and throwing things around, so he thought he did a good job.

He wasn’t good at those things, taking care of people, so he was proud of himself for returning the care you gave him many times before.

“Don’t be, shit happens. I just need time to process it.” you put away the take out box. “And maybe some cuddles would be nice.” you made your puppy eyes at him.

“Ugh, women.” he acted annoyed, but you didn’t miss the smile on his face when he lifted the blanket on his lap so you could lay down on his chest.

He put on his favorite show and you two watched in silence.

You were happy he found you in the garden. You loved your friends, but they wouldn’t give you the comfort you needed.

You realized that you want comfort from Noah just as much as you want to comfort him when he’s feeling unwell.

His fingers played with your hair and his eyes were focused on the TV. You laid on his chest, playing with the fabric of his t-shirt and thought about the upcoming wedding.

As if Noah could read your mind he suddenly said “You know, I could be your plus one at the wedding if you decide to go.” his gaze stayed on the TV.

“Shut up, you mean it?” because if you’re going to go, in a place so uncomfortable and full of people you haven’t seen in years, you’d appreciate someone by your side.

Do you want part two?

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This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

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[dubiousanon]

Do you have any more kakanaru ideas?

God, you don't even know the half of it. Here have a few but I'm dead serious, they're fucking unending. Title: 'Til Death Do Us Part Summary: In which Kakashi agrees to let Naruto practice seals on him, only for Naruto to go and "accidentally" bind them together for eternity in the first ten minutes. This wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if Kakashi weren't actively head over heels in love with him, and now their emotions are connected and Naruto knows it. -Post war, Kakashi falls in love with Naruto over the course of the village's reconstruction and sits silently on his crush for about two years, hoping it'll go away. News flash: it does not, in fact, go away. It gets like, ten times worse.

-Little does he realize, Naruto loves him back and the whole seal thing was fully intentional. Kakashi thinks that Naruto can't remove the seal. Naruto completely knows how to take it off, but after realizing Kakashi feels the same, he pretends he doesn't know how.

-Kurama cheers them on like the fangirl we all know he is and Naruto does his best to woo Kakashi, who is firmly in the "this is wrong, I'm a dirty old man, I couldn't possibly!" camp. So much so that, despite their emotions being connected, he remains blind to the fact that Naruto feels the same. Title: The You Inside of Me Summary: After Kakashi gets hit by a jutsu that de-ages him, suddenly he's nineteen years old again and has no idea what's going on, how he got here, or what to do with himself. When Naruto takes it upon himself to help Kakashi adjust, Kakashi can't help but notice how... pretty he is. Like, really, really pretty. -Naruto is also nineteen years old. It's just after the war and everything is kind of in shambles. Kakashi still believes himself to be ANBU and almost runs off thinking he's stuck in some genjutsu, but Naruto practically sparkles like gold in the sunlight, so Kakashi stays. -Naruto is unendingly kind to him to the point that Kakashi doesn't know how to react other than to melt. He's basically side-lined from missions while they try to bring him back to his actual age and with every passing day, he finds himself falling harder and harder for Naruto. To the point that he doesn't want to be aged back up again if it means he can't have this.

-As if age would stop Naruto Uzumaki from getting what he wants. Though honestly, he doesn't mind either way. Watching Kakashi discover Icha Icha for the first time is a true novelty.

Title: A Spoonful Of Sugar Summary: Post war, Naruto comes back to his apartment to find its been leveled to the ground. With so much destruction, Konoha is launched straight into a housing crisis that makes hunting for somewhere new to live impossible. Enter: Kakashi, who has an entire house to himself and is hardly ever there anyway now that he's Hokage.

-Kakashi thinks it's a great idea up until Naruto sleep walks into his bed in search of warmth in nothing but a tank top and the smallest shorts known to mankind and makes himself at home. Naruto's a cuddler, too, but Kakashi loves it so much that he silently hopes every night that he'll wander in. Even if the guilt practically devours him alive.

-Konoha is on pause for missions, but Naruto will die if he doesn't keep busy. Kakashi wasn't trying to get a live-in maid or anything, but the homecooked meals every time he comes home make his heart flutter. Naruto's also is helping with the reconstruction, which means he comes home sweaty. It does NOT help. -Basically, Naruto moves in, never leaves, and accidentally seduces Kakashi by doing absolutely nothing but being himself. Kakashi is helplessly enamored by it. Title: No Time (Like The Present) Summary: Naruto reaches adulthood and it's like a switch flips. Whereas he had absolutely no interest in relationships before, suddenly all he can think about is being with someone. Couple this with the strange urge he's had to let Kakashi-sensei bite him, he's pretty sure he knows exactly who he's going for.

-Or: Naruto's animal hindbrain belatedly kicks online and suddenly he's desperate to find someone. He feels naturally drawn to people who ALSO have animal hindbrains, whether he realizes it or not. This narrows his options down to Kakashi or... Kiba.

-Obviously he's not choosing Kiba, ew. After coming to the astute conclusion that he wants Kakashi to bite his neck and pound him into a mattress, he starts to relentlessly pursue him in the bluntest way possible. Which is to say he marches up to him and boldly declares that they should fuck.

-Kakashi is flabbergasted, terrified, and also desperate because now that Naruto's mentioned it, he can't stop thinking about it. And Naruto also smells really good, and Kakashi's hands would be so big on his waist, and it would be amazing. But also wrong. But also... well, he'll only hold out against Naruto for so long anyway, I guess.

Title: Planetary Summary: After a seal gone wrong, Naruto thinks he got off without any consequences. The sudden wet dreams he keeps having about Kakashi-sensei are weird, but he kind of enjoys them a ton, so he doesn't mind. It never occurs to him that they might be real.

-Naruto blows a seal up and suddenly he and Kakashi have connected dreams. Neither of them realize that they're both cognizant, that the dreams are real, and they're both lucid. Kakashi thinks he's having the same old wet dreams he's been having for the past year. Naruto thinks it's a cool, neat new feature.

-Kakashi basically ravishes Naruto every night thinking none of it is real and that he's finally just gone off the deep end and is having insanely detailed dreams as a result. Tons of filth, but also a lot of desperate kissing, 'I love you's, and various desperate apologies. Naruto is slightly taken aback but enthusiastically there for the ride.

-Eventually, a few vague mentions make it click that hey, they're both experiencing this same thing. The tension is insane. Naruto wants to climb him like a tree. Kakashi is drowning in self-righteous guilt. You know the drill.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

"Nosferatu" (2024) Prologue Breakdown

In one interview, Robert Eggers revealed the prologue of "Nosferatu" (2024) is based on backstory novellas he wrote for all of his characters, to make this story is own: “Most importantly, I was thinking, ‘Who are these characters, and how can I build out their backstories and make them real people?’ I also wanted our version to be Ellen’s story. The previous Nosferatu films start out as Thomas Hutter’s story, or Jonathan Harker’s, and then become Ellen’s story, but I wanted it to always be her story. Our film’s prologue comes from the work I did with the novella.”

At the prologue, 15-year-old Ellen is crying and then prays for “a guardian angel, a spirit of comfort, a spirit of any celestial sphere, anything” to come to her. As she’ll reveal to Professor Von Franz and Thomas Hutter, she was deeply alone, and wanted company, comfort and tenderness: “I was so very alone, you see and... I wished for comfort...” and “I sought company, I sought tenderness, and I called out...”.  

To Professor Von Franz, she’ll elaborate on her background story, and provide an explanation for this prayer. Ellen has been a somnambulist since infancy, even before resurrecting Count Orlok (“sometimes it was... it is like a dream”). She also had premonitions (“And I know things”), from simple things like “always [know] the contents of [her] Christmas gifts” to more serious like knowing when others would die (“I knew when... that my mother would pass”).

She had a connection to nature during her childhood and early teenage years (Ellen calls these two phases “childhood” because the concept of “adolescence” didn’t exist before World War II, it was “childhood” and “adulthood”). Like she says to Professor Von Franz, she enjoyed being in the forest and at the fields: “Father... he would find me in our fields... within the forest... as if – I was his little changeling girl.” Her father called her “changeling girl” as in the European folklore of babies kidnapped by fairies or demons and a substitute child being left in their place; because Ellen liked to be in nature so much, when she was supposed to be indoors (domestic sphere). 

But, as she was growing older, Ellen’s father started to forbid her from being in nature, and her, as a typical teenager, would rebel against her father’s orders: “But as I became older it worsened... Father dispraised me for it”. Ellen, as a young girl in early 19th century society should start learning and preparing to be the future wife of a respectable husband, not spending her days at the forest, and the domestic sphere was, also, a "woman’s realm” (sort of speak), not the outdoors (social life). On top of this, her father also stopped giving her physical affection (hugs, and the sort), and it’s highly implied he would recoil from her touch: “I frightened him. My touch.” 

And this is when Ellen resurrects Count Orlok with her prayer, and the context for the prologue from Ellen's side. From Orlok's perspective, there is a recognition: his first words to her are "You". "you... you..." He not only knows what she is (enchantress), but who she is.

Robert Eggers’ Count Orlok isn’t a random demon vampire; he was once a man. Eggers doesn’t want us to know the full backstory on his Count Orlok, but he wrote an novella on it and gave it to Bill Skarsgård (and it influenced Skarsgård’s entire performance and even the meaning of the ending): "I don’t want the world to know his backstory. But he had a very detailed one.” We know he’s a 16th century Transylvanian nobleman, from the 1580s (voivoide, “lord” and “lordship”), he’s not Vlad the Impaler (15th century). He was a occultist warlord, an enchanter (Şolomonari), and he was married, and had a family (which is present in the set design of his castle: multiple sarcophagi on the castle crypt, and the couple bedroom he attacks Thomas, which was his and his wife's bedroom).

From the clues on his character design and iconography (sigil and coat of arms), he was a Hungarian-speaking Count of Székely lineage, a sorcecer-warrior (Slavic historical hairstyle), and his castle is at the Eastern Carpathian Mountains. He’s not a “Devil worshipper”, he’s a Pagan enchanter, follower of the Dacian God Zalmoxis, owner of the secrets of life and death, and immortality. He has also known reincarnations throughout the centuries, because Robert Eggers has revealed he's an ancient soul who pre-dates the Roman empire, which means he's probably Dacian in origin.

Robert Eggers has said, in several interviews, his "Nosferatu" is deeply rooted in folklore, especially his Count Orlok: "One of the tasks I had was synthesizing Grau’s 20th-century occultism with cult understandings of the 1830s and with the Transylvanian folklore that was my guiding principle for how Orlok was going to be, what things he was going to do, and the mythology around him. I was synthesizing a mythology that worked with all of that".

“Cinematic vampires have lost their power and what makes them frightening,” says Eggers, who “went back to the folklore to understand the time when people believed vampires existed and were truly terrified of them.” and “so it was clear to me that I needed to return to the source, to the early folkloric vampire, to written accounts about or by people who believed that vampires existed – and who were terrified of them. Most of these early accounts come from Balkan and Slavic regions. Many are from Romania, where Stoker’s Dracula resides.”

Robert Eggers' Count Orlok is a strigoi morti from Balkan folkore, with roots in Dacian mythology, from his appearance, psychic nature (feeding on souls), behavior, to his haunting of Ellen. Like Robert Eggers said, the early folkloric vampire legends are the basis for his Count Orlok mythology.

In Romanian folklore, it’s said when strigoi raise from their grave the first time, they return to those they have loved the most, because they wish to relive their life together. And they make an appearance at their windows, asking for entrance. Which is what we see at the prologue of "Nosferatu" (2024):

The motif of the strigoi lover has been a staple of 19th century Romanian Romanticism and stories of women and men being visited by their dead lovers were very popular, both in folklore and in high culture.

However, that connection was broken and the world of the living cannot be in contact with the Afterlife (death). As such, the very presence of the strigoi is life threatening, and they will, inevitably, drag their loved ones to their graves, as they will progressively be drained of their life force, wither and die, if the haunting isn’t stopped. Which is what we see in "Nosferatu" (2024), as Count Orlok is dragging Ellen to an early grave for them to be reunited in the Afterlife ("you are not for the living. You are not for human kind. And you shall be one with me, ever-eternally. Do you swear it?").

Next, we see Ellen walking outside of her family manor, and, in garden of lilacs, she starts to moan, in obvious sexual pleasure, as she swears to be one with Orlok ever-eternally. As Linda Muir, the costume designer, has confirmed in one interview: "Ellen starts off with wealth, which is apparent from the bedroom in the estate and the lilacs that she’s writhing around under."

However, he’s not touching her in anyway, because when he does touch her, she has a violent seizure. He grabs her neck, and almost suffocates her in the process, as he reveals himself to her:

And he's a vision inside of her head, because the next shot clealry indicates he's not physically present (nor he could ever be because he's a strigoi, he can only astral project himself as a shadow or a ghost):

Ellen was masturbating and her sexual energy caused Orlok to materialized inside of her head (sexual energy being what conjures him for telepathic communication to happen will be further confirmed by Herr Knock’s ritual). He grabs her neck, which is a reference to the strigoi myth of these creatures suffocating their victims to death. Like Robert Eggers refers in his own essay about "Nosferatu" in "The Guardian": "Most surprisingly, many of these early folk vampires do not even drink blood; rather, they might suffocate their victims to death or spread plague and disease."

Was Orlok trying to kill Ellen in this scene to get her soul to join him in the Afterlife? Probably. She just swore to be one with him ever-eternally, and the only way for that to happen is for Ellen to die. He obviously wasn't successful, because Orlok has to be physically present in order to do physical stuff. There's no "sexual assault" going on between these two characters nor ever was.

On a symbolical level, a demon (strigoi) appearing here is connected to Victorian views of female sexuality (sin, demonic and wicked if not owned nor controlled by a husband) and masturbation (the ultimate sin, called “self-pollution” and “self-abuse”, and in women it was considered a “anti-social behavior”, a form of insanity (“lunacy”) and epilepsy, and was believed to increase the risk of hysteria). This connects Ellen's "epilepsies" with "masturbation", the Victorian diagnose of her character. This scene is symbolical of sexual awakening. Ellen's power (death) awakes in this scene, too. Ellen also goes to her beloved outdoors (nature) at the prologue, and doesn't give Orlok entrance into her family manor, establishing the connection between Orlok and nature in her character arc.

But this whole sequence is also connected to the novella Robert Eggers wrote about Count Orlok’s background story. Ellen’s is easier to identify, because she will mention it in later scenes with other characters. However, how is Orlok himself connected to all of this? He’s the other character at the prologue, after all. This scene establishes the connection with Ellen, Olrok and the lilacs, which will endure throughout the film, until the very end (visual storytelling), when they both, symbolically, return to their garden of lilacs, as Professor Von Franz (the only character who understands the depth of Ellen and Orlok’s connection according to Willem Dafoe on his interview to "Deadline") places their symbolic lilacs around their bodies.

There’s the strigoi haunting, and the returning to the one they loved the most in their lives. The reincarnation theme is introduced here. Ellen is the reincarnation of Orlok’s wife. It was confirmed, by Linda Muir, that lilacs remind Orlok of his human life, and we have a garden of lilacs at the prologue, associated with Ellen and sexual pleasure. Since Thomas Hutter arrives at Transylvania on the first day of Romanian winter, we can't see any lilacs flowers at his castle (since they bloom in the Spring), and the only outdoor space Thomas explores is the courtyard. Nevertheless, this seems to indicate 16th century Ellen and Orlok had a connection to a garden of lilacs somewhere, with implications of sexual encounters involved. Since 19th century Ellen swears herself to Orlok in this garden, maybe he proposed to her (marriage) in a similar setting in the 16th century, too.

"You are fortunate in your love."

Orlok will hold on to Ellen’s heart-shaped silver locket ("maiden's token") well into the second act of the film, and he keeps smelling it. It’s the scent of lilacs on her hair he treasures (not the locket or even the hair itself). There are deep memories associated with lilacs from Orlok’s part from his human life, with both sexual and romantic connotations.

[lelengerine]

pairing. zhong chenle x reader

synopsis. you became chenle’s academic rival because it was the only way to make him notice you. it was supposed to be harmless—just a little friendly competition, a fleeting thrill of being seen, but when you overhear his friends saying you’re nowhere near his type, you realize you’ve might’ve been playing a losing game from the beginning.

tags. highschool au, academic rivals to lovers, mutual pining, a splash of angst but mainly fluff, one cuss word, plot is a lil stupid but it's MY kinda stupid, she/her prns are used for reader!

wc. 1.6k words

notes. it has been a while... again... anyways.... i hope you're all doing well 😁 likes, reblogs, and feedback are very much welcome!

꒰ m.list ꒱

it all begins with a single test.

a perfect score, a name at the top of the list. not his. yours.

chenle doesn’t look at you often—not outside of necessity, not beyond the casual acknowledgment of two students who happen to sit near each other. you were just another body in the classroom, another hand raised during discussions, another mark on the ranking board.

yet, that changes the moment you manage to surpass him.

“that was sheer luck,” he says when he sees your score, as if the idea of you outperforming him was absurd, as if there was no possible universe in which you could be his equal, but that was what it took for him to notice you, to know you.

so you do it again. and again. and again—until your name and his become inseparable, linked by competition, by late-night study sessions and quiet acknowledgments of each other’s efforts; until it becomes expected that when scores are announced, yours will be the first name he looks for.

and at some point, the rivalry stops being just a game to you because you like the way his brow furrows when he barely edges you out. you like the sharp wit in his teasing, the way he leans back in his chair and smirks whenever he catches you staring. you like the quiet satisfaction in his voice when he tells you, “next time, i’m winning.”

you like him.

not in any serious way—just the tiniest bit. a trivial little crush. nothing that would ever mean anything.

at least, that’s what you tell minjeong.

“you’re actually insane,” she says one afternoon, watching you scribble furiously in your notebook.

you don’t even look up. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

minjeong kicks at your chair leg. “oh, please. you started a whole academic rivalry just to get chenle to notice you.”

you blink innocently. “and?”

“and that’s the most unhinged thing i’ve ever heard!” she gestures wildly. “like, do you even hear yourself? you willingly turned your crush into your competition just so he’d acknowledge your existence?”

you sigh, finally looking up. “it’s not that deep.”

minjeong gives you a look. “it is exactly that deep. you could’ve just flirted with him like a normal person.”

you scoff. “i am flirting. just… academically.”

“i call bullshit!”

“it’s working, isn’t it?” you tap your pen against your notebook. “before this, he didn’t even properly know my name. now, he’s the one finding me to compare exam results.”

minjeong groans, dropping her forehead onto the desk. “i can’t believe i’m friends with someone this delusional.”

you grin. “you love me.”

she lifts her head just enough to glare at you. “i tolerate you.”

and maybe she has a point—maybe it’s ridiculous, maybe it’s a little (very) pathetic, but in the end, what does it matter? it’s just a harmless game. a fleeting thrill.

it’s not like you actually expect anything to come of it.

right?

ʚɞ

it was all an accident.

you didn’t mean to overhear jaemin and jisung talking in the cafeteria, but the moment your name slips into the conversation, your brain snags onto it like a hook.

jaemin sighs, voice quieter than usual. “i feel kind of bad for her.”

jisung, chewing absentmindedly, glances up. “why?”

jaemin nudges his tray with his fork, brows drawn together. “i mean… it’s obvious, isn’t it? she’s been competing with him like crazy, but…” he pauses, choosing his words carefully. “i don’t think she realizes that chenle doesn’t usually—” he exhales. “he’s never really looked at anyone that way before.”

jisung frowns slightly. “you think she likes him?”

jaemin gives him a pointed look. “come on, you don’t?”

jisung hesitates, then sighs. “yeah. but it’s not like it’s completely hopeless. i mean, he respects her now, you know? it’s not nothing.”

jaemin leans back in his seat, thoughtful. “yeah, but respect and interest aren’t the same thing.” his voice drops, softer, like he almost doesn’t want to say it. “and if he was interested in someone… it probably wouldn’t be her.”

jisung’s expression hardens. “not because she’s not good enough, right?”

“no, of course not,” jaemin says quickly. “it’s just—you know how he is. he likes people who challenge him, but he also looks up to experience. he’s always been drawn to older people, people who’ve done more, seen more.” he sighs. “if he ever did like someone, it’d probably be someone like that.”

jisung drums his fingers against the table, lips pressing together. “i mean… who would wanna date their rival anyways? that sounds a bit exhausting.”

jaemin huffs a quiet laugh. “yeah, exactly.” then, after a beat, his voice softens again. “i just don’t want her to get her hopes up.”

your stomach twists.

and just like that, the air shifts because suddenly, everything that once felt light, fleeting, manageable—your silly little crush, your harmless rivalry—becomes something heavier. something that leaves a pit in your stomach, pressing down with the weight of every joke, every glance, every moment you thought maybe.

there was never a chance. not even the slightest possibility.

and you were stupid to ever think otherwise.

ʚɞ

you don’t talk about it.

not to minjeong when she nudges your elbow during class, whispering about the way chenle has glanced at your direction three times in a row already when it’s only the first period. not to your friends when they ask why you don’t seem to argue with him as much anymore.

and certainly not to chenle himself.

you tell yourself you’re getting over it, that it doesn’t matter.

you stop challenging him for the sake of it. you stop lingering on the way he says your name. you stop waiting for him to look at you first. you let yourself lose—because what’s the point of competing for something you were never going to win?

“what’s with you lately?”

chenle’s voice cuts through the quiet hum of the nearly empty classroom. you don’t look up from your notebook, feigning disinterest as you continue underlining a phrase you’ve already marked twice.

“with me?” you ask, barely sparing him a glance. “nothing’s wrong.”

he scoffs, shifting his weight against the desk. “you haven’t tried to beat me in anything all week.”

the accusation is laced with something you can’t quite place—curiosity, maybe. or frustration. maybe both. but it doesn’t matter, none of it does.

you shrug, keeping your expression neutral. “maybe i just don’t care anymore.”

a pause. too long, too heavy. you feel the weight of his stare pressing into you, waiting for something—for you to crack, to admit to something you shouldn’t.

then, his voice comes quieter, but sharper. “you expect me to believe that?”

you tap your pen against the desk, the rhythm steady, controlled. “i don’t expect anything from you.”

and there it is. the truth, laid out between you like an open wound.

chenle exhales, tilting his head, his gaze never wavering. “so that’s it?”

you force yourself to nod, as if it’s that simple. as if your stomach doesn’t still twist every time he looks at you.

another pause. then—

“so it has nothing to do with my ideal type being someone older or whatever?”

your fingers stiffen around your pen.

the air shifts, charged and suffocating. for the first time since he walked into the room, you hesitate. your body betrays you before your mind can catch up—shoulders tensing, breath hitching, the smallest flicker of your eyes meeting his before you can stop yourself.

chenle sees it all.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, voice clipped, turning back to your notes.

he doesn’t let up. “jisung and jaemin,” he hints, like he’s been waiting for this, like he already knows you heard them. “that’s why you’ve been acting weird.”

you grip the edge of the page, trying to keep your hands steady. “it’s really not.” 

his gaze burns into you, unrelenting. “right,” he murmurs. “so it wouldn’t… i don’t know… bother you if i said they were wrong?”

your heart stumbles.

wrong?

the word unravels in your mind, the possibilities spinning out of control before you can stop them.

they were… wrong?

wrong about what? that you never had a chance? that he would never look at you that way? that you were playing a losing game from the start?

or—

that maybe, just maybe, you had never been losing at all.

your throat feels tight. you grip your pen harder, grounding yourself in something, anything other than trying to figure out the meaning behind his words. you tell yourself not to ask. not to hope.

“no,” you mutter instead. “it doesn’t matter.”

chenle exhales, a quiet huff of amusement, as if he can see right through you. “it does matter, though.”

his voice is lower now, softer, careful, and you hate the way it makes your pulse stutter.

“cause you’re the same age as me.”

the words settle between you, deceptively simple, but you can feel the intention behind them, the unspoken meaning in the way he says them—like he’s handing you a puzzle piece, daring you to put it together.

slowly, reluctantly, you look up.

chenle is already watching you, waiting. his expression is unreadable, but there’s something beneath it—something pleased, something almost satisfied. like he’s just solved a problem that’s been bothering him for a while.

like he’s just confirmed something he always suspected.

a slow, knowing smile tugs at his lips. “so?” he murmurs. “still want to pretend you don’t care?”

and suddenly, it clicks.

the teasing, the competition, the way his eyes would always flick to your scores first. the way he’d smirk whenever you challenged him, like he was waiting for it. the way he never let you win too easily, but never let himself lose without a fight.

the way he always met you where you were, like he had been waiting for you to catch up.

it seems you weren’t the only one playing a game.

[dvrylgal]

⋆༺𓆩 kehetu: chapter twelve 𓆪༻⋆

synopsis: the farm is overrun with walkers, and during the melee daryl realizes more about his feelings for you... and rick reveals a secret that has you fuming.

cw: canon typical violence, gore, profanity, mature themes, cannibalism (zombies), zombies (obviously), racism (Merle), reader is black, reader is from jersey, reader is a mechanic, reader was raised native (ish), reader's a bit of an atheist

a/n: next chapter might be a lil short idk

"Rick an' Shane ain't back?" Daryl asked as the two of you reentered the house, the whole gang gathered nervously around the living room. "We heard a shot."

"No," Lori denied, heart visibly dropping. "Maybe they found Randall."

"We found 'im," you corrected.

"Is he back in the shed?" Maggie chimed, stepping forward.

"He's a walker," Daryl sighed.

"Did ya find the walker that bit him?" Hershel's brows furrowed.

"He wasn't bit," you shook your head, still quite confused yourself. "His neck was broke."

"So he fought back?"

"Thing is... Shane an' Randall's tracks were right on top of each other," Daryl stated. "And Shane ain't no tracker. So he didn't come up behind him... They were together."

"Would you two please get back out there, find Rick and Shane and find out what on earth is goin' on?" Lori stood from her seat, walking up to you both.

Glancing at Daryl, you flashed him a quick, hesitant look.

Something seriously wrong was happening here, and you wanted no part in it.

But he returned with an assuring, slightly pleading look, discreetly nodding toward the worried expression on Lori's face.

'Fuck's sake...'

With a soft sigh out your nose, you caved, quickly turning around to trudge back out the door.

"You got it," Daryl nodded, adjusting his grip on his crossbow.

"Thank you."

Though, of course, you hadn't made it two steps onto the porch before you were met with a most disheartening sight, your stomach instantly dropping to your feet.

"Oh, you gotta be fuckin' with me..."

At your remark, Daryl's brows furrowed, and he, along with the whole family, quickly moved to join you. 

Only to be met by a horde of over a hundred walkers, the majority of which nearly at your doorstep.

"Never a dull moment in this place."

"Patricia, kill the lights," Hershel ordered.

"I'll get the guns," Andrea dismissed herself, turning to go back into the house.

"Maybe they're just passing, like the herd on the highway. Should we just go inside?" Glenn asked, nervously.

"Not unless there's a tunnel downstairs I don't know about," Daryl scoffed, leaning up against the banister. "A herd that size'll rip the house down."

"Carl's gone!" Lori exclaimed, quickly rushing out the house.

"What?"

"You're kidding," you deadpanned.

"He-He was upstairs. I can't find him anymore."

"Maybe he's hiding," Glenn suggested.

"He's supposed to be upstairs. I'm not leavin' without my boy!"

"We're not," Carol assured, taking her hand before reentering the house. "We're gonna look again. We're gonna find him."

"Take your pick," Andrea returned, plopping the gun back down along with Maggie's multitude of shotguns.

"Maggie..." Glenn remarked with surprise as she handed him one.

"You grow up country, you pick up a thing or two."

"I got the number—it's no use," Daryl denied.

"You can go if you want," Hershel replied as he loaded his double-barrel. 

"You gonna take 'em all on?"

"We have guns. We have cars."

"If we file down enough of the herd, we can use the cars to lead the rest off the farm," you chimed. "We'll have to deal with the damage later."

"Ye serious?"

"This is my farm," Hershel stated, seriously. "I'll die here."

With a sigh, Daryl sat leaned against a column, drawing his crossbow.

"All right. S'a good a night as any," he caved, grabbing you by the waist and tossing his legs over the rail before lifting you with him, dragging you toward his motorcycle. "C'mon, you. Yer comin' wit' me.

You scoffed, eyes widening with surprise and cheeks glowing with fluster at the feeling of his hand on your hip.

How he did such things without a second thought never failed to boggle your mind.

"Y'know, a please woulda been nice," you played off, avoiding eye contact as you sat down behind him. "Woulda been the gentlemanly thing to do."

"Never said I was a gentleman," he chuckled, glancing back at you with a cocky smirk. "Now ya gonna grab on or what?"

"Shut up," you huffed, quickly looping your hands around his chest. "Doesn't take much t'strangle you from this position."

But rather than shake with fear from your "terrifying" threat, he laughed, revving up his motorcycle before sharply kicking up the kickstand.

"Yes, ma'am."

Sadly, despite your best efforts to fight them off, the farm fell to the walkers.

With no option but escape, the group was split and scattered in all directions, you and Daryl doubling back the way you came after nearly being cornered.

Which brought you back to the highway that started it all...

"Oh, thank God!" Maggie exclaimed as she ran to Hershel and Beth, a wide smile on her face.

The moment T-Dog pulled to a stop, Lori rushed out of the truck, enveloping Carl and Rick in a large, bear hug.

"Where'd you find everyone?" Rick asked, turning to you and Daryl as you both dismounted his motorcycle.

"Well, with those guys' tail lights zigzagin' all over the road—figured he had to be Asian drivin' like that," Daryl remarked.

Glenn chuckled, amused, "Good one."

Slowly, you blinked, fighting hard to keep your eyes open and your body upright.

'The hell?'

"Where's the rest of us?" you asked, attempting to wake up.

"We're the only ones who made it so far," Rick answered, resting his hands on his hips. 

"Shane?" Lori asked, standing from her knees.

Solemnly, Rick shook his head, glancing down at the ground.

"Andrea?" Glenn's brows furrowed.

"She saved me, then I lost her," Carol chimed.

T-Dog shook his head, leaning against a car door, "We saw her go down."

"Patricia?" Hershel asked, turning to his girls.

"They got her, too," Beth choked, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Took her right from me. I was holdin' onto her, Daddy, she just—"

Suddenly, she remembered something, lifting her head from her father's shoulder.

"What about Jimmy? Did you see Jimmy?"

"He was in the R.V. when it got overrun," Rick sighed.

"You definitely saw Andrea?"

"There were walkers everywhere."

"Did you see her?"

"M'gonna go back," Daryl stated, moving toward his bike.

"No," Rick denied.

"We can't jus' leave 'er."

"We don't know if she's there," Lori reminded.

"She isn't there. She isn't. She's somewhere else or she's dead. There's no way to find her."

"So we're not even gonna look for her?" Glenn asked, confused.

"We gotta keep movin'. There've been walkers crawling all over here."

"I say head east," T-Dog suggested.

"Stay off main roads," Daryl agreed, stepping forward and taking aim at a walker approaching from the rear. "The bigger the road, the more walkers, more assholes like this one."

With a sharp twang, his crossbow fired, putting down the creature with a sick squelch.

As the others loaded back into their cars, you took a teetering step toward Daryl's bike, the move not going unnoticed as the man made his way back toward you.

"Hey," he started, brows furrowed as he steadied you by the bicep, holding you up with one arm. "S'a matter? You look like yer bouta pass out."

Softly you hummed, glancing up at him with a hooded, tired look that had his stomach performing its familiar churn.

"S'nothin'. M'jus a lil' tired," you shrugged off, slightly slurred and not convincing at all.

"When's the last time ya slept?"

"..."

"(y/n)."

"When did we talk 'n the coop?"

"Three days ago."

"I took a nap th'day before that."

"Fuckin' Christ, woman."

With a sigh, he plopped down on the bike, allowing you to carefully sit down behind him before revving the engine to life, fighting off the stir in his chest as your hands slowly and smoothly slid their way around his chest.

"Take a nap while we're goin'," he ordered, glancing back at your exhausted expression. "Can't have ye passin' out on me if we get cornered."

"M'not gonna leave you alone," you yawned, your lids feeling as heavy as boulders. "S'not fair."

"That wasn't a question," he flicked your hand. "M'tellin' ya to—"

But just like that, you were already gone, cheek pressed softly against his back while quiet, soft snores left your lips.

The sight was utterly adorable, your expression relaxed and without a care in the world, a tiny stream of drool already about to drip onto his jacket.

But somehow, the man couldn't bring himself to care, too enraptured by your face and the tenderness of it all.

In fact, when he had grabbed you earlier, he had felt the same thing. 

How could such a rough woman feel so soft in his grasp?

It was thrilling, and—as much as he'd never admit out loud—felt so utterly right.

Like an addiction, he had taken his first hit, and now wanted to drag you around with him everywhere he went.

By your waist, by your arm, it didn't matter.

He just wanted his hands on you.

"Daryl!" Rick called as he pulled off to the other side of the highway. "Let's get a move on!"

Instantly, Daryl was snatched from his reverie, cheeks turning a faint crimson as he quickly faced forward and revved his bike, slowly weaving around the stationary cars.

But even still, he couldn't help but allow his gaze to trail back to you every minute or so.

Oh, he had it bad.

'Fuck's sake...'

"You out?" Daryl asked Rick as he pulled the bike to a stop, the lack of movement stirring you awake.

"Runnin' on fumes," Rick sighed, approaching the two of you.

"We can't stay here," Maggie stated, stepping out of her car.

"We can't all fit in one car," Glenn countered.

"We'll have to make a run for some gas in the morning," Rick turned to the group.

"Spend the night?" Carol asked, crossing her cardigan over her chest.

"I'm freezing," Carl shivered.

"We'll build a fire, yeah?" Lori suggested.

"You go out lookin' for firewood, stay close," Daryl sighed, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. "Only got so many arrows."

"M'runnin' low, too," you stretched to life, leaning against his arm. "Can scrounge around for some sticks to make more."

"How you doin' on ammo?"

"Not enough," Rick sighed, removing his jacket and giving it to Carl. 

"We can't just sit here with our asses hangin' out," Maggie reminded.

"Watch your mouth," Hershel corrected. "Everyone stop panickin' and listen to Rick."

"All right, we'll set up a perimeter. In the morning, we'll find gas and some supplies. We'll keep pushin' on."

"Glenn and I can go make a run now, try and scrounge up some gas—"

"No, we stay together," Rick denied. "God forbid somethin' happens and people get stranded without a car."

"Rick, we're stranded now," Glenn exhaled.

"I know it looks bad, we've all been through hell and worse, but at least we found each other," Rick continued, firmly. "I wasn't sure—I really wasn't—but we did. We're together. We keep it that way."

He glanced down the road, wistfully, the entire group sharing looks of concern.

"We'll find shelter somewhere. There's gotta be a place."

"Rick, look around, okay? There's walkers everywhere. They're migrating or something—"

"There's gotta be a place not just where we hole up, but that we fortify, hunker down, pull ourselves together, build a life for each other. I know it's out there, we just have to find it."

"Even if we do find a place, and we think it's safe, we can never be sure for how long," Maggie stated. "Look what happened with the farm. We fooled ourselves into thinkin' that that was safe."

"We won't make that mistake again," Hershel assured.

"We'll make camp tonight over there," Rick continued, pointing towards the dell not too far away. "Get on the road at daybreak."

"Does this feel right to you?" Carol leaned forward, turning to you and Daryl.

"What if walkers come through, or another group like Randall's?" Beth piped up.

"Y'know we found Randall, right?" Daryl added. "He'd turned. But he wasn't bit."

"How's that possible?"

"Rick, what the hell happened?"

"Shane killed Randall," you stated, simply. "Just like he always wanted to."

You had come to that conclusion some time ago, but Rick's expression only further confirmed your theory.

"And then the herd got him?"

Rick paused for a long moment, staying completely silent as his eyes raked over each and every one of you.

It did not bode well, not one bit, and you felt your brows furrowing in suspicion.

"We're all infected."

 Instantly, your body froze, eyes widening at the sudden revelation.

"What?" Daryl asked, sharply.

"At the C.D.C, Jenner told me... whatever it is, we all carry it."

"And you never said anything?" Carol piped up, tone rising.

"Would it have made a difference?"

At that, you let out a small chuckle, swiping a hand over your mouth as you attempted to process the words coming from his lips. 

"You knew this whole time?" Glenn asked, chest aching with betrayal.

"How could I have known for sure? You saw how crazy that mo—"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," you sharply interrupted, stepping away from Daryl's side and toward Rick. "Lemme get this straight..."

You blood was roaring with anger, every muscle in your body itching to pounce on this man.

You'd put your life on the line for this group countless times of your own accord, but you weren't a soldier.

You wouldn't be ordered around like one, and you sure as hell wouldn't be lied to like one.

"We are in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse... and after visiting the last functioning government facility in the country, you learn that we are all infected with the virus that has destroyed civilization..."

With a breathy scoff, your eyes flicked up to his, blazing with fury.

"But rather than tell the group, you kept it to yourself?!"

"Well, I thought it best that people didn't know," he sized you up, the look in his eye silently telling you to shut up.

Obviously, you didn't.

"I don't give a rat's ass what you thought! This isn't some fuckin' platoon!"

"(y/n)," Daryl attempted, moving to rest a hand on your shoulder.

"No!" you roughly shrugged him off, eyes still trained on your leader. "I don't care who you think you are, you don't fuckin' lie to me! Whether we could do somethin' with it or not, that was information worth fuckin' mentioning!"

You were so angry, you were nearly shaking.

If he omitted something as huge as this, what else could he be leaving out?

What else could he be lying about?

With another scoff, you turned around, moving to march into the woods on your own.

"Un-fuckin'-believable."

"(y/n)!" Daryl called, moving to follow after you. "(y/n), jus' wait!"

"Not this time! M'fuckin' done!"