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#who knows! maybe i'm not looking hard enough
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Christopher Brown’s ‘A Natural History of Empty Lots’
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On SEPTEMBER 24th, I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!
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Christopher Brown is an accomplished post-cyberpunk sf writer, a tech lawyer with a sideline in public interest environmental law, the proud owner of one of the most striking homes I have ever seen, and an urban pastoralist who writes about wildlife in ways I've never seen and can't get enough of:
https://fieldnotes.christopherbrown.com/
All of these facets of Brown's identity come together today with the launch of A Natural History of Empty Lots: Field Notes from Urban Edgelands, Back Alleys and other Wild Places:
https://christopherbrown.com/a-natural-history-of-empty-lots/
This is a frustratingly hard to summarize book, because it requires a lot of backstory and explanation, and one of the things that makes this book so! fucking! great! is how skillfully Brown weaves all that stuff into his telling. Which makes me feel self-conscious as I try to summarize things, because there's no way I'll do this as well as he did, but whatever, here goes.
Brown is a transplant from rural Iowa to Austin, where he set out to start a family, practice tech law during the dotcom boom, and write science fiction, as part of a circle of writers loosely associated with cyberpunk icon @brucesterling. After both the economy and his marriage collapsed, Brown started his restless perambulations around Austin's abandoned places, sacrifice zones, the bones of failed housing starts and abandoned dot-crash office parks.
When he did, something changed in him. Slowly, his eyes learned to see things that they had just skipped over. Plants, animals, and spoor and carapaces and dens of all description, all around him, a secret world. These were not pockets of "wilderness" in the city, but they were pockets of wildness. Birds' nests woven with plastic fibers scavenged from nearby industrial dumpsters; trees taking root in half-submerged tires rolled into a creekbed, foxes and rodents playing out a real-life version of the classic ecosystem simulation exercise on the edge of an elevated highway that fills the same function as the edge of a woodland where predator and prey meet.
As Brown fell in love again – with the artist and architect Agustina Rodriguez – he conceived of a genuinely weird and amazing plan to build a house. A very weird house, in a very weird place. He bought a plot of wasteland that had once housed the head-end of an oil pipeline (connected to a nearby oil-storage facility that poisoned the people who lived near it, in an act of wanton environmental racism) and had been used as a construction-waste dump for years.
After securing an extremely unlikely loan, Brown remediated the plot, excavating the oil pipeline, then building the most striking home you have ever seen in the resulting trench. Brown is a pal of mine, and this is where I stay when I'm in Austin, and I can promise you, the pictures don't do it justice:
https://www.texasmonthly.com/style/christopher-brown-edgeland-house-austin/
Formally, A Natural History of Empty Lots is a memoir that explains all of this. But not really. Like I say, this is just the back story. What Natural History really is, is a series of loosely connected essays that explains how everything fits together: colonial conquest, Brown's failed marriage, his experience as a lawyer learning property law, what he learned by mobilizing that learning to help his neighbors defend the pockets of wildness that refuse to budge.
It's an erudite book, skipping back through millennia of history, sidewise through the ecology of Texas, all while somehow serving as a kind of spotter's guide to the wild things you can see in Austin – and maybe, in your town – if you know how to look. It's a book about how people change the land, and how the land changes people. It is filled with pastoral writing that summons Kim Stanley Robinson by way of Thoreau, and it sometimes frames its philosophical points the way a cyberpunk writer would – like Neal Stephenson writing a cyberpunk trilogy that is also the story of Leibniz and Newton fighting over credit for inventing calculus:
https://memex.craphound.com/2004/11/20/neal-stephensons-system-of-the-world-concludes-the-baroque-trilogy/
Brown is a stupendous post-cyberpunk writer, and also a post-cyberpunk person, which I've known for sure since I happened upon him one morning, thoughtfully mowing his roof with a scythe:
https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/46433979075/
You can get a sense of what that means in this lockdown-era joint presentation that Chris, Bruce Sterling and I did on "cyberpunk and post-cyberpunk":
https://archive.org/details/asl-cyberpunk
Brown is a spectacular novelist. His ecofascist civil war trilogy that opens with Tropic of Kansas got so much right about the politics of American demagoguery and was perfectly timed with the Trump presidency:
https://memex.craphound.com/2017/07/11/tropic-of-kansas-making-america-great-again-considered-harmful/
The sequel, Rule of Capture, uses the device of courtroom drama in a way that comes uncomfortably close to the Orwell/Kafka mashup that the authorities have created to deal with environmental protesters:
https://memex.craphound.com/2019/08/12/rule-of-capture-inside-the-martial-law-tribunals-that-will-come-when-climate-deniers-become-climate-looters-and-start-rendering-environmentalists-for-offshore-torture/
And the final volume, Failed State, is one of the most complicated complicated utopias you could ask for. This is what people mean by "thrilling conclusion":
https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/12/failed-state/#chris-brown
As brilliant as Brown is in fiction mode, his nonfiction is unclassifiably, unforgettably brilliant. A Natural History of Empty Lots is the kind of book that challenges how you feel about the crossroads we're at, the place you live, and the place you want to be.
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The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/17/cyberpunk-pastoralism/#time-to-mow-the-roof
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hgfictionwriter · 20 hours
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Self Control: Part Ten - Setback
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie suffers an injury during a game and has to navigate balancing her recovery and caring for you. She feels helpless as she tries to step up for you, but can't the way she wants to.
Warnings: Language. Slight angst.
A/N: Inspired by poor Jessie's injury during the Olympics. And everyone please knock on wood I'm not putting some bad mojo out there with this. Oh, and in this world Janine is still a Thorn 🙏 Rest of the series is here.
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"-and Fleming is down. Oh, that looked like a hard hit. She's moving, but she's not getting up."
Football was a physical sport. She'd seen far too many friends ushered off the pitch to never fully, or sometimes even ever, return. She'd been extraordinarily lucky that she'd been more or less injury-free her career. However, sometimes she did take a few knocks.
Normally, she was most worried about the team anytime she was injured; that she was letting them down. But as you held her hand while she sat on the examination table in the medical assessment room, your eyes filled with concern and worry - at least for the short amounts of time she could manage to look at you; even with dimmed lights it was too damn bright - she felt most guilty about you.
"I'm confident we're looking at a Grade 2 concussion here," the team doctor said. "I'm not worried that we're into severe or Grade 3 territory. Y/N, I'm going to ask that you help monitor Jessie's symptoms and recovery over the next couple of weeks. If repeat vomiting occurs, extensive dizziness, or she's having prolonged confusion or headaches aren't improving, please contact me immediately."
Jessie had her eyes screwed shut. She tried to focus on her breathing and keeping herself steady as she attempted to will away the incessant pounding in her head. She opened them as the doctor finished speaking to see you nodding eagerly. Your eyes were trained on the woman before glancing back at Jessie and lifting her hand to give it a quick kiss.
"For the next couple of days - lots of rest. That means physical and mental. Very limited reading and screen time. And you're going to be really sensitive to lights and sounds, so a dark and quiet environment is best.
"Days three and four, you can start some light physical or mental activities again. Short, non-strenuous walks, for example. But listen to your body. Days five to seven, you can increase things a bit more, but-"
"We're moving in less than two weeks," Jessie interjected, wincing as she opened her eyes once more to look at the doctor. The doctor, who she knew well, gave her a look of warning, knowing where this was going.
"You should not be packing or moving furniture in two weeks," the doctor said firmly. "You can take on some light packing maybe 7-10 days from now, but carrying heavy boxes is out of the question."
Jessie shook her head and regretted it immediately, wincing sharply this time, a hand flying up to her temple as she grimaced in pain. Your hand came to her shoulder and she sat very still as she rode out a wave of pain.
"We'll hire packers," you told her sternly. "We already have movers anyway."
"No," Jessie returned stubbornly, still unable to open her eyes.
"Well, she's still coherent enough to argue with me, so I guess that's a good sign, right?" You relayed flatly to the doctor who chuckled.
"It is, actually," she said. "Y/N, you know my number. Feel free to contact me directly if you have any questions. Jessie," Jessie felt the doctor's hand on her shoulder and she slowly blinked her eyes open to face her, "behave yourself. I know you like to be busy and I know you want to take care of your fiancée, but you'll be able to get back to that much sooner if you listen to your body and to me."
"Mm," Jessie voiced noncommittally.
The doctor chuckled and spoke to you again.
"Okay, you can take her home now. And with all of this urgency I didn't even have a chance to ask how you're doing. How much longer?"
"About two months left," you answered.
"Oh my gosh. Final stretch, hey? How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay," you said. Jessie peeked an eye open to see your hand subconsciously rubbing your enlarged stomach while you continued to hold her hand in your other. "She's so active." You shot Jessie a sidelong, mildly teasing glance. "And at night in particular. I blame myself for that one - I'm the night owl of the two of us, so she must be getting that from me. But yeah, some of the third trimester symptoms are certainly popping up, but truly, I can't complain too much. Or shouldn't yet anyway," you finished with a smirk.
"Well, it'll be nice to get settled in your new place before the baby comes. I'm positive you'll sort out the logistics just fine," the doctor added pointedly and Jessie knew it was for her.
"That's the plan," you said. "It shouldn't be bad. We don't have too much stuff. Most of the furniture will be new and we're just getting all of it delivered after our move-in date."
"That's great. Well, Jessie, I will be seeing you in a week for a follow-up, but Y/N, if I don't see you anytime soon, I have my fingers crossed that the rest of your pregnancy goes smoothly. Can't wait to see pictures of your little one once she's born."
The walk out to the car was slow and tedious. Jessie tried to walk casually and easily, dismissing your supportive arm and wanting to walk on her own, but ended up bracing herself against a random car only ten feet in as she became disoriented. Your arms were around her in a second.
"Baby, come on. Don't be so stubborn. Put your arm around me," you told her both tenderly and firmly. Despite the medication the doctor gave her, her head was still pounding and she had to relent.
She was filled with self-contempt as you eased her into the passenger seat and gently closed the door, wary of both the jostling and sound.
"My baby," you cooed after you climbed in and were settled. You rubbed her thigh and placed the cold compress the doctor had given you into her hand. "Here, hold this against you. It'll help."
"I hate this," Jessie said, voice shuddering against her will.
"I know, love," you said gently. "Let's be grateful it's nothing more severe. I know that doesn't help you in this moment though. Let's get you home, alright?"
She opened her eyes to look at you. Your bump was nearly pressed against the wheel at this stage in your pregnancy.
Jessie sniffled and rubbed her face in aggravation. You shouldn't be taking care of her. You shouldn't be worrying about her. It should be the other way around.
Though you drove as steadily as you could the whole way home, even the slightest jostling or bumps sent pain through her. She gripped the seat tightly and breathed heavily as she fought off a persistent wave of nausea.
She leaned heavily on you despite herself as you both walked up to the apartment. You'd found a hat of hers in the trunk and put it on her to block out some of the lights she'd encounter on the journey up. She apologized repeatedly throughout the walk and you tutted in disapproval and shushed her.
You put her to bed and Jessie began sniffling again as emotions began to bubble up once more as she watched you going all around the apartment to get her set up and cared for.
At one point you were in digging through one of the bottom drawers in the bathroom for something. You held onto the counter with one hand to balance yourself and you huffed in exertion, your stomach very much in the way.
Jessie sat up, wanting to come over to help you. She grimaced as her head began to pound anew and her vision narrowed to a point. She swayed in bed for a second before she felt safe enough to move again. She'd only flung the covers off of herself and lowered her feet to the floor when you voice boomed from the other room.
"Jessie," your voice sharp and making her flinch. "Get back into bed," you said insistently, but much softer this time as you walked back over and gently pushed her back down. She whined and sniffled as you did so. You began to laugh and her eyes grew wide as she looked to you in disbelief.
"Why are you laughing?" Jessie asked, her voice so much weaker than she intended.
"You're being silly," you said through a residual laugh. "You're so stubborn. You were levelled onto the pitch, nearly unconscious, less than two hours ago. Please, just relax tonight. Can you do me that favour?"
"I should be helping you," she went on, her voice up an octave as she fought through emotion.
"You can help me by resting," you told her patiently. "Oh, I have to text your parents back. They're worried about you."
She really wasn't in the right state of mind, because suddenly she felt her face screw up and she began sobbing, made worse by the physical pain the action triggered inside of her.
"Jess," your tone gentle and inquiring, but clearly in shock at the sudden outburst. You sat down next to her immediately and began caressing her head. "What's going on?"
Jessie winced in pain as her shoulders shook while she cried.
"Oh my gosh," you said, underlying concern in your voice as you began to rub her back and you took her hand. "Is it your head? What can I do, baby?"
"I'm letting you down," Jessie forced out, breath hitching at the end of her sentence. "I should be taking care of you."
"Oh my God. Babe, stop that," you said gently, but urgently. "You're not letting me down at all. You take care of me all the time. You're injured. It's okay."
"I'm not a good partner," she sobbed. She heard the sound of surprise from you, but she couldn't stop herself. "I'm not around enough. And that's bad enough. And now we're having a baby? I'm never going to be around. I'm going to be an absent parent. And even if I'm here, I might be injured and you'll have to take care of us both."
"Jess. Oh my God," you said in bewilderment as you rubbed her back further. "Baby, please. None of those things are true. Take a breath."
You placed a hand on her chest, pressing firmly and somehow it immediately caused her to slow her breathing. She brought her hand to yours and clutched it tightly.
"Breathe," you said patiently. "It's going to be okay."
Within those few moments, Jessie's breathing began to normalize and she felt her pulse slow once more. She exhaled and the tightness she'd held in her brow relaxed with it.
"It's okay, baby. Just breathe," you coaxed softly as you continued to rub her back and hold your hand and hers to her chest.
Her eyes remained closed as she let you calm her. Her shoulders hitched periodically with a residual cry, but eventually, she sniffled and opened her eyes to look up at you. The room was dark, but she could still make out your features.
"I don't want to let you down," she whispered, voice still trembling as her throat tightened once more, emotions threatening to spill over once more.
"You never let me down," you told her resolutely. "Ever. And I mean that." You let those words sink in before carrying on. "You are the absolute best partner I could ever hope for."
Jessie watched quietly as you smiled, but it faltered. Looking closer she saw tears starting to form in your eyes.
"I'm serious. You know my family. My parents marriage was absolute shit. I didn't know - for a long time - that relationships could be good. That they should be. The way you love me, the way you care for me, is something I didn't even want to hope for because it seemed so impossible. And then even if it was possible, there was no way I'd find someone like that for me. That I would deserve to be loved like that."
"Babe-" Jessie went to interject, but you stopped her.
"When I tell you you're incredible, I really mean it. You're far more than I could've ever hoped or dreamed for. You show me more love and affection in a day than I felt for years at a time. I swear. So please don't ever worry about letting me down."
Jessie was sniffling now, blinking tears onto her pillow and she lifted your hand to kiss it, holding it there against her lips and clutching you tightly. She hated that you felt that way for so many years. And though she was happy that she could make you feel loved like that, it broke her heart, too. She just couldn't fathom someone not loving you wholly and completely.
You leaned down and kissed her forehead, removing your hand from her back to caress the side of her face. You chuckled lightly, speaking against her forehead.
"Short of cheating on me or having some secret family on the side, you could never let me down."
"Babe," Jessie complained, shifting her head to try to look at you. "I would never do that."
"Just saying," you said lightly as you sat back up. "That's the line. For clarity purposes - even if you fell out of love with me and chose to end things, you still wouldn't be letting me down. I'd be devastated, of course, but I would respect that and still love you."
"Babe," Jessie started whimpering again and you consoled her.
"Okay, okay," you placated. "Last thing. Yes, you travel. Yes, you'll be away sometimes. And yes, it is possible that you could get injured again. But that's okay. Of course, I don't want you to get injured, but because I love you. You need to understand that we're partners. We take care of each other.
"And lots of parents travel for work. I know you sometimes forget, but I'm pretty independent and I'm capable," you smirked. "Plus, we have lots of support in case I or our daughter need anything while you're away. What stands out most to me is our daughter will grow up seeing her mom pursue what she loves, working hard to be the best as what she does, and inspiring a new generation of players. That means so much and I wouldn't change it."
You laid another kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest, baby. I love you so much. I'm going to take care of a few things, but I'll be back soon and we can lay together, okay?"
She gave a faint noise of acceptance and you rose from the bed, pushing off slowly, now having to lean back and get your balance to counter the weight of the baby. Jessie's hand shot out to brace your back, and though you delivered a stare her way after you were steady, it dissolved into a smirk.
"See? You're still helping me."
------
The week dragged on so horribly slowly for Jessie. She was so frustrated and upset with herself. She would've always wanted to be able to get up and go, do things, but especially now. You’d taken over essentially all of the household chores and errands and she felt exponentially guilty.
One day you came home, shuffling through the door with bags of groceries hanging off your arms. Jessie shot up off the couch to help you, but her vision began to peter out. She paused a few steps in to brace herself against a nearby chair.
"Jessie," you chided.
She could hear you putting down the various bags. And she pre-emptively put up her hands in defense. "I'm fine." When she opened her eyes again, she was met with a disapproving look from you. She dropped your gaze immediately.
"Sit down, please," you instructed.
"I can help you put everything away," she insisted as she tried to push past you, only to have you hold her back.
"Jess," your voice was curt and she knew you meant business. She could feel your gaze burning into the back of her head and she forced herself to look at you. You went on softer this time. "I'm sure you could help me with groceries. But I'm fine. Honestly. You can help me most by doing as your doctor said, and taking it easy."
She was contemplating a rebuttal, which you saw it coming from a mile away and you continued.
"Don't make me resort to tactics of emotional warfare," you said sarcastically and Jessie huffed, recalling how you told her the other day that the more you had to wrangle her, the more your daughter kicked and squirmed and tired her out.
Jessie sighed begrudgingly and collapsed into the couch, an instant pang shooting through her head at the jarring motion. Served her right for being petulant, she thought ruefully. Despite her antics, she felt your hand caress the side of her head.
"It's like a preview into parenting," you joked before kissing her head and returning to the groceries. Jessie opened her eyes and glared at your retreating form.
"Yeah? Are you going to threaten our kid with guilt trips, too?" She'd meant it as a bit of a snide joke, but immediately regretted her words as soon as she'd said them. Your movements stilled and you slowly turned back to face her, your expression one that made Jessie sink further into her seat.
"Do not start with me, Jessica."
"I'm sorry," she muttered. "That was uncalled for."
"You're still injured. A brain injury at that," you replied as you went back to the bags before giving her a pointed look. "I'll chalk it up to that. You get one freebie."
Jessie was silent as she watched you work. Your movements were laboured at times and she see how much effort it took to do certain tasks. Still, it was true, you managed just fine.
When you were finished, you returned to the living room and sat heavily next to her, a sigh of relief on your lips as you leaned back. You were short of breath, and Jessie looked away quickly when you felt her watchful gaze and peeked open at eye at her. You held out a hand, gesturing for her to relax.
"She's pushing against my diaphragm; it's making it harder to breath, it's not a big deal," you reassured her pre-emptively. You placed your hands on the cushions and pushed yourself up to sit straighter before you met her eyes again. You took her hand.
"I know you want to help. But you have to pace yourself. You can't spring up and sprint over, or you can't be up and down trying to pack and lift things. Not right now. You know better than that," you said gently.
"I already texted Janine and Kelli about packing. They agreed to come over tomorrow," she pouted, spurred on by another failed attempt of hers yesterday. You sighed and kissed her cheek.
"Thank you for doing that. I feel much better about that approach," you told her.
"I'm sorry," Jessie said, fingers fidgeting as she remained slumped on the couch. She sat up and gave you a hopeful look. "I'm feeling better every day, though. I'll be able to help out a lot more around the house soon."
You gave her a patient look and cupped her face in your hands.
"I'm pregnant - not infirm. Did you know...there are thousands of women, for one reason or another, who do this alone? I am very, very lucky that I have you and you’ve been so attentive and wonderful. But there are many women who manage all by themselves. I can do the same - not even, actually, since you’re still here and supportive - for a couple of weeks."
Despite your words of reassurance, Jessie's face fell and she snuggled into you, resting her head on your shoulder. She frowned as she felt your body jostle with a soft chuckle as you wrapped your arms around her. You kissed the crown of her head.
"My sweet baby," you chuckled further against her though she groaned. "Don't worry. A few weeks from now when I'm complaining 24/7 and can barely get out of bed, you'll be relishing these moments."
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True to their word, the next day Kelli and Janine were over and were making serious progress on packing up the apartment under Jessie's and your watchful eye.
Despite their help, it was a struggle for Jessie. She was very particular about things like this and she wanted things packed up and organized in specific order and way. With some coaching from you, she'd had to let some of that go, but it wasn't easy.
She and you packed up the lighter things, but anything heavy, and particular full boxes, were left to the girls. And what upset her even more was that she was having trouble focusing. Between all of the lights - clearly, none of you could pack in the dark - and physical exertion, she found herself having to take more breaks than she liked and you'd had to take over quite a bit in directing the girls.
Still, when she was able to, she tried.
"Oh, that needs to go over here," Jessie interrupted as Kelli was setting down a box in the obviously wrong pile. Kelli rolled her eyes good-naturedly and picked up the box once more with a heaving motion, balancing it against her thigh as she adjusted her grip before moving it to the appropriate area.
"Better, princess?" She asked, eliciting a scowl out of Jessie. She knew Kelli was just joking, but it was grating on her. Kelli called her that a few times now, along with a couple of other cracks in that vein.
Her friends, throughout her entire life, had always loved teasing her. Maybe it was the way she blushed when she got flustered or worked up, but people just seemed to love poking at her. Normally, she took it in stride, but it was hard to laugh them off today.
She had all of this mapped out and was fully ready to tackle it alone. Did Kelli think she wanted to ask them for help? No. She hated it.
You were supposed to have your feet up without a worry while she took care of it all. Instead, you were on your feet, packing alongside them and doing more than your fair share of directing and corralling. She saw how you stood there, a hand on your back as you caught your breath, a veiled wince now and then. She could see how sore and tired you were getting.
Her stare followed Kelli as she bounded back over to Janine to gather up some more items. Jessie could feel the heavy tension between her shoulder blades and she felt her face and ears growing hot. She took a steadying breath, she knew this feeling; if she wasn't careful she'd be blinking back tears soon.
She released a slow, deep breath as she returned her attention to the box in front of her and labelled it accordingly. She was setting down the marker when out of the corner of her eye she caught you waving Kelli over. She watched as you spoke in a hushed tone to her and nodded to the other room.
Jessie frowned as she watched you two retreat. Something seemed off, confirmed when you partially closed the door behind you. Jessie quietly padded over and held her ear close to the opening. She whipped her head around, gritting her teeth momentarily at the way the sudden motion aggravated her symptoms, when she felt Janine sneak up, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"What's going on?" Janine mouthed, ever curious. Jessie shrugged the girl's hand off her shoulder tempermentally.
"I don't know," she mouthed back with a mild glare. Janine rolled her eyes and they both leaned in.
"-I appreciate your help. I know you don't have to be doing this. But you need to stop making jokes. She already feels bad enough. She doesn't need you making cracks at her expense. She wouldn't do that to you if situations were reversed. So stop. Please."
Jessie's stomach sank. Now you were defending her as well. She went to push the door open, but Janine pulled her back and away, well out of earshot.
"Let it go," Janine told her.
The emotions Jessie had been working to keep at bay just minutes ago were now raging forward. Her ears were burning and she sniffled.
"Jess," Janine warned her with underlying care in her voice. She knew the last thing Jessie would want right now is to have an emotional meltdown. Janine placed her hands on Jessie's shoulders and spoke calmly, but firmly. "It's fine. Nothing to get worked up about. Y/N loves you a ton. She's being a mama bear to you right now. And fair enough. You're not feeling well, so she's looking out for you. Kelli's a big girl. She'll get it. She'll be fine."
Jessie sniffled and folded her arms against herself.
"It just sucks," she said as she worked to regain her composure.
"I know," Janine said as she patted her on the shoulder. "You'll be all better soon though. Take it easy on yourself." She smirked. "Y/N said you were planning to paint a few rooms in the new place a couple weeks from now. You're on your own for that."
Although she fought it, Jessie had to laugh. She was about to comment when she noticed the door open behind Janine and you and Kelli stepped out. She studied you both and to her surprise nothing seemed odd.
Janine followed her gaze and looked back at her with a wink before going back to help Kelli, who, at least as far as Jessie could see, was in fine spirits.
You must've noticed Jessie's behaviour because you soon approached.
"Everything okay, babe?" You asked.
She looked to you, her gaze eventually falling to your rounded stomach. She placed her hands on your pronounced bump and ran a thumb lovingly along it before lifting her gaze back up to you and all of the boxes around; a physical manifestation of the new chapter you both were starting together. She smiled at you.
"Yeah. Everything's good."
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lee-laurent · 1 day
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T'es ben chix - Luke Hughes
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Summary: Amélie decides Luke Hughes is the cutest boy she's ever seen, but she doesn't know how to tell him.
wc: 7k
content: fluff, a little bit of angst, kissing, panic attacks, anxiety, quick make out session, a couple dirty jokes, long distance relationship (let me know if missed anything!)
notes: don't let the title fool you, this fic is still in english!! i realized the other day while doing schoolwork that i don't have a fic that discusses being french-canadian. so... here we are! this fic was super fun for me to write and i incorporated experiences and challenges i have faced over the last few years. a lot of the mistakes that amélie makes are mistakes that i have made or that other french speakers make when speaking english bc sometimes we try to directly translate things and it just does not work lol i reallly hope you guys enjoy!!! and to any other francophones out there: let's be friends!!
just finished writing and it's about 5k words more than i was planning
Amélie honestly wasn't the biggest fan of going out back home, so going out in a place where she could barely speak the language was even worse. But a few of the girls she'd befriended had convinced her it was a good way to get to know more people and to let loose. She sat with the three other girls at a small table, her fingers drumming against the glass of her cocktail.
"Yeah, what did you think of that guy that presented today, Am?"
"Hm? He did... good."
"No, silly. Did you think he was cute?"
"Oh, um, he's... how do you say... not my type?"
"Not your type? Then what is your type, Am?"
"Probably that guy she's been making googly eyes at all night," one of the others teased.
"Who? The tall, curly haired guy in the corner?"
Amélie blushed, sipping at the alcohol for courage.
"Ooo, she's totally into him!"
"You should go talk to him, Am!"
"No... I tell you... no American boys," she waved them off.
"Well, that's too bad. Cause it looks like he's comin' over here. We'll be at the bar if you need us."
"Guys..."
But it was too late, the other girls were already up and headed towards the bar.
"Calisse," she mumbled, trying to ignore the tall figure approaching her table.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked. She looked up at him, her lips pursed. He had the same curly hair and boyish smile that her friends had been teasing her about. She really hadn't planned on talking to anyone tonight, let alone any boys. The girls knew her rule: no falling for any boys while she was in America.
"Uh... sure," she replied, gesturing to the empty chairs across from her.
He smiled, sitting down casually, rubbing his palms on his pants. "I'm Luke. I, uh, I thought I'd come introduce myslef since we, uh, made eye contact so many times."
Amélie bit her lip, nodding as he spoke. She barely knew enough English to follow what her friends were saying, and now she had to talk to some random guy at this bar she didn't even want to be at. "I, uh, I am Amélie."
"Amélie? That's a really pretty name. Did I, uh, did I say it right? Amélie?"
Her cheeks flushed, her eyes flickering down to her drink. "Yeah... that is right. Thank you." Her fingers tightened around the glass, trying to think of something to say next, but everything just came in French.
Luke could sense her hesitation, suddenly becoming way more nervous about coming over. Maybe it had been stupid. Maybe he was making her feel uncomfortable. "I just thought... I don't know. You seemed nice. Do you, uh, want to talk, or...?"
She met his gaze, taking a deep breath. He was trying and he seemed nice, like he really wanted to talk to her. "I... my English, it is not very good," her accent thickening as she spoke. "It is... hard for me."
Luke nodded, leaning forward slightly. He had teammates that didn't speak English as their first language, so he kind of knew what to expect. "That's fine. I'm sure it's better than my French. That is your first language, right? French? Sorry, I just assumed cause your name-"
"Yes, French," she cut him off, giggling at his rambling.
"I can barely say anything in French, so you've already got me beat."
His attempt to make her feel better worked... a little. "It is easier... to write. But speaking... more pressure, I forget the words lots."
"I get that. But we can just... talk slowly."
She sipped at her drink, waiting for him to continue.
"So, what brings you to Jersey? Not a lot of French people here."
"Exchange... at Rutgers. I am from Québec. Saguenay. But I come here... and I work on my English."
"That's super cool. It's awesome that you're pushing yourself to get better. I, uh, I went to Umich for a bit, but-"
"Umich?"
"Oh, right. University of Michigan. I lived in Michigan before I lived here."
"You move here because..."
"For hockey. I play hockey."
"Oh... that's cool. I like Les Canadiens. You play in the LNH?"
"The NHL? Yeah, I do. You like hockey?"
"Everyone in Québec likes hockey. Very popular."
"But you didn't know who I was," Luke teased.
"Only like Les Canadiens, sorry," she shrugged.
"Well, that's fair, I guess. The Habs are pretty big in Québec, huh?"
"Yes! My family... all big fan." She felt comfortable talking about her family, talking about home, the things she liked. Her dad watched every Habs game on TV and sometimes he'd even drive down to Montréal for a weekend to see them play.
"My family loves hockey too. Everyone plays. My mom, my dad, me, and both my brothers. It's like in our blood... or something."
"They play for... the same team?"
"One of them does. Jack, he plays with me. My other brother, Quinn, he plays in Vancouver," Luke tried to keep it casual, not wanting it to seem like he was bragging.
"Ah! The Canucks!"
"See, you know a bit about other teams," he teased.
"Shhh," she giggled. "Your family... they seem very... what's the word... talented."
"Guess you could say that."
She took another sip of her drink, her mind buzzing with questions to ask, but none of them coming to her in English. She wanted to ask more about his brothers, about how he started playing hockey, but her mouth just couldn't keep up with her brain. She also didn't want to come off as rude or obsessed with him because of his title, so she just nodded.
"You don't have to worry, you know. I'm not judging you," Luke comforted. "So, what do you do when you're learning English or watching the Habs? You got any other hobbies?"
"I like to... read. And bake... when I have time."
"Reading and baking," Luke mused. "What do you bake?"
"Everything," she giggled. "Tarte au sucre is my preferred. My mom... she always bakes with me."
"Tarte au sucre? What's that? Sugar pie?" Luke's eyes lit up. "You'll have to make me that one day. I've never had it."
"Maybe. You will have to see."
"Challenge accepted."
Amélie went to respond, but her phone buzzing stopped her. It was her friends calling, probably ready to head on to another bar. She didn't want her conversation with Luke to end, but she knew she couldn't stay there all night.
"I have to go. My friends... waiting," she sighed.
Luke's face fell a little but he nodded. "Yeah, I get it. But I, uh, this was fun."
"Me too."
There was silence for a little, neither of them wanting to be the first to say goodbye. "You should give me... your phone number. So you can try my tarte au sucre."
"Sounds like a plan," Luke said, handing his phone over for her. She typed in her name and phone number, adding a '<3' next to Amélie.
"Text me," she giggled, waving goodbye as she joined the other girls at the bar. Luke watched as the four of them started talking amongst themselves quickly, giggling as Amélie told them about her conversation with the hockey player.
He finally stood up, making his way back over to the table where his teammates were sat. Curtis raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk plastered on his face.
"Well, how'd it go, Romeo?" He leaned forward, failing to conceal his grin.
Luke rolled his eyes, "Good, actually. Really good."
Nico raised his pint, "Told you. You just had to go for it."
"So... what's next?" Curtis nudged him. "You ask for her number?"
Luke nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, we'll probably meet up again."
"Probably?"
"Okay, fine. Yeah, we'll see each other again. I'm going to try her sugar pie she was talking about."
"Sugar pie? Is that what we're calling it nowadays?" Nico teased, causing the whole table to erupt in laughter.
Luke shook his head, letting the teasing slide. His mind was too focused on the girl with a French accent and promises of baking him pie. He had to see her again.
~~
Luke found texting Amélie way easier than he'd imagined. She wasn't lying when she said her writing was better than her speaking. Her texts barely ever had mistakes, in fact sometimes they were worded better than his.
They texted back and forth constantly, which earned Luke some teasing from his colleagues. In writing, Amélie was much more confident, returning his flirting with practiced ease. Her personality really shone through in a way it hadn't at the bar. She'd occasionally crack jokes, usually about how he didn't know any French and that she'd have to teach him. Their conversations flowed, talking about their days, sharing stories, discussing the schoolwork that Amélie had, and sometimes sharing pictures of their meals. Although Jack did most of Luke's cooking, he'd never admit that to the girl.
You have to come and try my tarte au sucre soon! Only if you're brave enough though ;)
Luke grinned at his phone, his fingers furiously typing back a reply.
Oh, I'm brave enough. Just let me know when, and I'll be there.
I will. Maybe next week? I need to make sure it's perfect first.
Deal.
~~
Amélie paced her apartment, making sure that everything was in order before Luke came over. She was even more nervous than she had been in the bar. She really wanted things to go well. They had decided to label the event as their first date, and although a bit informal, she was still shitting herself.
The pie was sitting on her kitchen island, untouched. She didn't want to eat any of it until Luke was there to eat it with her. She was worried he'd get in trouble because it wasn't part of his meal plan for work, but he had reassured it multiple times that it wasn't a big deal if he had a little pie.
Just as she was about to rearrange her throw pillows for the third time, there was a knock at her door. She froze mid-step, wiping her hands on her jeans as she made her way to the door.
It was just a pie. And it was just Luke. Nothing to be too worried about.
She hesitated for a moment before she pulled the door open, tilting her head back to look up at Luke. He was standing there in a Devils hoodie and some track pants, a baseball cap covering his curls. He looked relaxed, his hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. Amélie hated how nonchalant he looked in comparison to her.
"Hey," he greeted. "I brough my appetite, as promised."
"Good. I hope you are ready," she joked, stepping out of the way to let him in. He pulled off his shoes, taking in her cozy apartment. He laughed when his eyes landed on the big Québec flag hung behind her couch.
"I'm sure it'll be amazing. I'm looking forward to it, don't worry."
She nodded, though her nerves didn't disappear. She led him into the kitchen where the pie sat waiting. The smell of it filled the small space, warm and sweet.
"Wow, looks good, Am. Guess you weren't kidding about being a good baker."
"It's like you with hockey. My talent," she giggled, blushing as their eyes met.
"I don't know. Your baking skills may be miles ahead of my hockey skills."
"Don't lie. Let's see if it tastes as good as the smell," she grabbed a knife, finally cutting the pie into pieces. She placed a generous slice in front of Luke, taking in how comfortable he looked in the situation. She really admired how easygoing he was compared to her. It was their first date, but his demeanor made it seem like they'd been seeing each other for months. Meanwhile, her heart hadn't stopped racing since she opened the door minutes before.
Luke picked up his fork, flashing her a grin before taking his first bite. His eyes widened and he let out a pleased hum, "Holy shit, this is so good."
"You like it?"
"Are you kidding? This is like the best dessert I've ever had... don't tell my mom I said that. But really, Amélie, you've ruined all other pies for me. Can I take some home to show Jack?"
"Of course! I'm glad you like it. Is my mom's recipe."
"You should probably teach me how to make this, so I don't have to beg you every time I want some."
"I wouldn't mind," she giggled, taking a bite of her own slice. The taste reminded her of home and she suddenly felt a lot less nervous about messing up her English in front of Luke. They continued to eat their pie as they talked, shifting the conversation to more personal topics, wanting to know everything about each other.
Luke told stories about growing up with his brothers, sharing embarrassing moments from their childhoods and the occasional hockey-related mishap. Amélie found herself laughing more than she had since she'd arrived in America, her body filling with warmth.
"And that's how Jack ended up chipping his tooth. Our mom was furious, but Quinn and I thought it was hilarious," Luke explained, shaking his head at the memory.
She laughed, her shoulders shaking. "You and your brother... troublemakers," she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she listened to him talk. God, she could listen to Luke talk for hours. His accent was the cutest thing she'd ever heard and his smile curved up more on one side than the other, almost like a smirk. He was so perfect.
"Yeah, we were. Still are, I guess. But what about you? You got any fun stories about your family?"
"One time my dad, he take us to Montréal for a Habs game. And my older brother he had... he liked one girl he saw. But she was anglophone, no French. He goes up to her and he tries to talk English. But it was soooo bad. Even worse than me. He only knew maybe like three word. I think he said like 'Hey, you pretty, drink?' and she looked at him like he was... insane! He... he panicked and ran away. We bullied him for years after. Our dad, he will still talk about it at dinner sometime."
"That's brutal," Luke laughed. "Glad our first conversation didn't go like that."
"I am just better than him."
Luke shook his head, flashing his lopsided smile that made Amélie swoon. "Clearly. You've got the charm, no doubt about it."
"Maybe a little. But still I get nervous. When you arrive, I think maybe that I would die."
"You hid it well. I didn't even notice. I was the nervous one."
"You? Nervous?" she raised an eyebrow, placing her fork between her lips .
"Yeah, you were... well you are, like the prettiest girl I've ever met," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't want to mess it up."
"Is that a joke? You did not... mess up. I like talking with you."
"I like talking with you too, Amélie"
~~
It was their fourth date and they were back at Amélie's apartment. Luke was sprawled out on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he playfully scrolled through one of Amélie's French-to-English learning apps.
"Come on, give me a word," Luke teased, turning to look at the girl sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her.
"Alright. Alright. Um... try... 'papillon.'"
Luke squinted, trying his hardest to translate it. "Papillon," he reapted slowly. "Uh... sounds like pasta, maybe? Wait, no, wait... um, balloon?"
She let a burst of laughter, learning back against the arm of the couch. "Non! It's butterfly!"
He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock anguish. "Butterfly?! That doesn't even sound like butterfly! What?!"
"You are needing more practice," she giggled, comfortly placing a hand on his thigh.
Luke's eyes widened at her touch, but he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, clearly I need a lot more practice. You might have to become my full-time tutor."
Amélie smiled, her fingers lingering on his thigh, sending a warmth through both of them. They'd been spending more and more time together, and things were less awkward, but still full of nervousness. The banter between them was easy, but there was an ever-growing tension gnawing at them both.
Luke reached for a throw pillow next to him, lightly tossing it at her. "Give me another one. I swear I'll get it this time."
She swatted the pillow away, but her focus had moved on from French. The space between them had slowly been shrinking and she had just noticed how close they were. She tilted her head, her eyes flickering up to meet Luke's. "I think... maybe you are better at other things than French."
Luke's grin faltered, his breath catching in his throat at her new tone. He glanced down at her hand still resting on his thigh, then back at her face, then back to her hand again. "Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Like... this."
Before he could question what she meant, she leaned in, her lips brushing his, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, hesitant, but the second their lips connected, everything they'd been holding back snapped into place.
Luke's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened quickly, no longer hesitant, but instead filled with the feelings they'd been dancing around for weeks. Amélie sighed against his mouth, her hands sliding up to his chest, gripping his shirt in his fists. Luke groaned softly, the sound muffled by her lips.
Their kisses turned hungrier, more urgent, as the tension in the room built. Luke shifted, gently pushing Amélie back against the couch as he leaned over her, his body pressing against hers as their kisses grew sloppier. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Luke's hands slid up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing her cheek as the kiss deepened.
Neither of them wanted to pull away, not wanting to be the first to end the kiss. Luke realized he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He gasped for air before kissing her again, harder this time, his lips moving with more urgency than before. Amélie let out a soft, breathless moan in reponse.
They pulled away again, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath. Luke brushed a strand of her hair, that had gotten stuck between them, out of her face. His eyes were still half-closed as he whispered, "I've wanted to kiss you for so long."
Amélie smiled, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to fill her lungs with air. She looked up at him, her lips still tingling. "Me too. I... I did not expect it to feel... like that."
"Good or bad?"
"Good," she whispered, her fingers tracing the back of his neck before pulling him in again, her lips finding his once more. There was no hesitation this time, just unfiltered desire as they gave in to the kiss.
~~
"Where you goin'?" Jack asked, pausing his video game as he heard Luke head for the door. He turned around, noticing his brother wearing his Michigan backpack. "And why do you have a backpack?"
"Amélie's place. I'm spending the night."
"Damn, Lukey boy's finally getting laid."
"Shut up, Jack... there's no confirmation that that's what happening. She just asked if I wanted to sleep over."
Jack smirked, leaning back on the couch with a knowing look. "Uh-huh, sure. You don't pack a bag just to sleep over, bro."
Luke rolled his eyes, adjusting the straps of his bag. "It's not like that. We're just hanging out, maybe watching a movie or something."
Jack snorted. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, lover boy. But just in case, be safe."
"It's not like that," Luke groaned, grabbing his keys off the counter, trying to escape Jack's teasing.
"I'm just saying! Good luck, bud!"
Luke mumbled to himself as he stepped into the hallway, heading for the elevator to the parking garage. His heart was racing more than usual, not just because of Jack's teasing but because tonight did feel different. Spending a night together was a big step in their relationship, especially since they weren't officially official yet.
They hadn't even discussed labels yet, and although they were very close, there was an unspoken worry of figuring out where things were heading. Luke really, really liked her, but he didn't want to rush anything. If Amélie wanted to take things slow, then he would take things slow.
He sat in his car, getting ready to leave when his phone buzzed.
Just picked out a movie. Hope you like rom-coms ;)
Only if we watch it in French so I can practice
Deal.
When he pulled up to her building, he practically leaped out of the car, taking his backpack with him. He knocked on her door, his heart in his throat.
Just go with the flow. No pressure
Amélie giggled when she opened the front door, dressed in one of Luke's Devils hoodies and a pair of shorts he couldn't see from under the large sweatshirt.
"Hey. You look cute," he leaned down to kiss her.
"Hey! Missed you."
"It's only been three days," he laughed, allowing her to wrap her arms around his waist, propping her chin on his chest. "You ready for my horrible French?"
"Ready for anything," she giggled as he ran a hand through her hair.
They stood in the doorway for a few moments more, before she grasped his hand and pulled him into the living room. They settled on the couch, a blanket thrown over their entwined legs.
"Am, I've been thinking..." his thumb brushing lightly against her thigh. "I don't want to overthink it anymore than I already have, but... we've been spending lots of time together. And I really like you."
"I like you too, Luke. A lot."
"Good. Because... I want this to be official. I mean, us. I want us to be official. I don't wanna be just 'hanging out' or 'seeing where things go' anymore. I want you to be my girlfriend." His voice softened at the end, his heart out on a silver platter just for her.
"You really want that?" she gushed.
Luke nodded, "Yeah. I want you. I want... us."
"I want that too," she smiled, shuffling impossibly closer to him, pecking his lips.
Luke pulled her back in for a deeper kiss, relief flooding his body. When they pulled apart, Amélie rested her forehead against his, her fingers gripping the front of his hoodie.
"So, it is official?" she whispered.
"Officially official. You're my girlfriend now."
She kissed him again, laughing into his mouth. "Well... now that we have... figured that out. You have French to practice... boyfriend."
"Let's get started then, girlfriend."
~~
"So... when do I get to meet her?" Jack grinned, knocking Luke's shoulder.
"Oh, um, I can ask her."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You can ask her?" he teased. "What, you haven't mentioned me?"
Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have, Jack. I just... didn't think you'd be so excited."
"Dude, of course I'm excited! My little brother has a girlfriend now! And you know I've gotta approve, see if she's good for you. Duh."
"She's not a test subject, Jack. I'm not bringing her so you can interrogate her."
Jack snickered, loving how flustered his brother was getting. "Relax, I'll be nice. In fact, bring her out with us and the guys this weekend. Some of the other girlfriends will be there."
"I can ask her. Just... don't be weird about it. She get's nervous."
"Me? Weird about it? Never. I'm charming."
"That's what I'm worried about."
"Come on, it'll be fun. She'll get to meet everyone, and you know the guys will love her. Plus, if she can survive a night out with us, she's a keeper."
"Look, I'll ask. But I know she's been busy with schoolwork. I'll ask her tonight. But seriously, Jack, don't freak her out. Please."
"Scout's honour, man. I'll be on my best behaviour."
"You're not a-- never mind. I'll let you know what she says."
~~
Luke laid next to Amélie in her bed, his arm draped over her waist. She was scrolling through TikTok, laughing at French words he didn't know yet. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, peeking at the screen where some girl was speaking rapid French while doing her make up.
"Hey, Am."
"Hmm?"
"So... Jack and some of the guys are going out this weekend, and a few of the girlfriends will be there too," he paused, thinking over his next words. "Jack was, uh, wondering when he could meet you. He kind of suggested you come along."
She blinked, "Meet... all of your friends? This weekend?"
"No pressure! If you're too busy with school, I totally get it. I just thought it might be fun. Only if you want to, of course," Luke quickly added.
She bit her lip, thinking it over, and Luke could tell she was weighing her options. "I'm nervous. I would... like to meet Jack. To be... part of your world."
He pulled her body closer to his, pressing more kisses to her shoulder. "You're already part of my world, Am. And trust me, Jack's been bugging me about meeting you since our first date. He's... well, he's Jack. But he means well."
"Okay. I will come. But if Jack, he makes me feel awkward, you owe me a very good dinner."
Luke laughed, "Deal. And don't worry, I'll be there the whole time. Plus, survivng Jack means you can survive anything."
~~
"C'est très cute, non?" Amélie asked, showing her outfit off to Luke.
"You look like a millon bucks, baby," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.
"What?"
"It's... it's a saying."
She tilted her head slightly, repeating the words back to herself. "A million... bucks."
Luke thought her accent made it all the more adorable. "It means you look beautiful. Like super, super beautiful."
"English says, they are so strange. First you tell me it rains cats and dogs... now I look like I am money. You explain me all of these sometimes, yes?"
"Of course, baby. But I mean it, you looks amazing."
"Thanks, Lu. We should go?"
"If we have to," Luke pouted, leaning down to give her another kiss.
~~
Amélie gripped the straps of her purse so tightly that her knuckles were white. She had never felt so nervous in her life, not even on their first date. She had so many people to impress tonight and probably less than half the words they had in their vocabularies.
Luke was quick to notice her anxiety. She usually walked with so much confidence, but her posture was slumped and her lip was held between her teeth. "Hey, you okay?"
She nodded, but her choked voice betrayed her. "I... I don't know if I can do this."
"You'll be fine, Am," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Jack's going to love you, I can promise you that. And it's just a few of the guys--nothing big. And hey, some of them aren't even native English speakers themselves."
Her eyes were still full of uncertainty, her fingers busying themselves by picking at the skin around her nails. "But maybe I will say something wrong. Or they ask me things, and I do not understand them? Or they will all laugh at me."
"You've been doing so well with your English, love. And if you're ever feeling stuck, just squeeze my hand and I'll come to your rescue."
The bar was pretty empty for the most part, just a few tables of friends talking and sharing drinks. In the back corner, Jack was sitting with a few of the other guys and their better halves.
"There they are!" Jack cheered as soon as he saw them approaching, standing up to greet his brother as if he hadn't seen him in weeks. His tone was loud and confident, and Amélie could feel every set of eyes at the table move towards her and Luke.
Luke gave his brother a quick bro-hug before turning to his girlfriend. "Jack, this is Amélie. Am, this is my brother, Jack."
Amélie felt like all the moisture in her mouth had disappeared, her hand gripping Luke's with a vice-like strength. She opened her mouth to speak, but all her words got stuck. "I, uh, I... hi."
"Nice to meet you, Amélie," Jack said. "Luke's told me loads about you."
She gave him a tight lipped smile, her mind scrambling to find a response, but nothing came. She felt like the weight of everyone's expectations were holding her down. She wanted to wow everyone with perfect English, but all she could do was stand there, frozen.
"She, uh, she's a little nervous," Luke interjected. "Amélie's from Québec, she's here in Jersey to learn English. But her French is like the most impressive shit ever."
"No worries. We're just happy you're here," Nico spoke up.
Amélie forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She sat down beside Luke, her hand still gripping his with immense force. The conversation around the table picked back up, but she remained quiet.
The guys were easygoing, laughing and joking with each other, and the other girlfriends seemed just as relaxed. The more they spoke though, the harder it became for her to follow. She could pick up on bits and pieces of what was going on, but she couldn't seem to form a complete sentence in her head.
"So, how do you like Jersey so far?" one of the other girlfriends, Lexi, asked with a warm smile.
"It... it's very different. But I... I like it," she replied, her eyes not leaving Luke's hand in her lap.
"She thinks back home is wayyyy prettier. Right, babe?" Luke helped to direct her.
"Yes. Québec is very beautiful."
"So what brought you here?" Jack asked, desperately wanting to know more about the girl that had stolen his brother's heart. "School?"
She bit her lip, trying her best to think of how to reply in English. "Yes... I.... study at Rutgers. Exchange."
"That's awesome. What're you studying?"
Her mind went completely blank. She'd even rehearsed answering that exact question, but now, with everyone looking at her, the words were gone. Her hand tightened around Luke's again, taking a sip of water to clear her throat.
"She's studying communications and media. But the point of her exchange is to work on her English skills."
"That's sick," Jack nodded along.
The conversation around her continued, a few questions being tossed her way but her responses were usually just a few words, the gaps being filled in by Luke. The group eventually moved on to a story that Nico was telling, and Amélie used the shift of attention to shrink into herself further. She let Luke rest his hand on her bouncing knee in an attempt to calm her nerves, but his touch felt foreign in the situation.
After what felt like hours, but had most likely only been half an hour, she leaned close to Luke, whispering in his ear. "Je vais aux toilettes." She stood up before he could respond, scurrying off to the bathroom.
Jack shot Luke a curious glance, but he just shrugged, trying to mask his own worry.
Amélie slipped into the bathroom, pressing her hands against the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She felt like she was suffocating, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She hated feeling like an outsider, not being able to connect with Luke's world outside of her.
She wiped under her eyes, praying that her mascara didn't run. She didn't want anyone to know she'd been crying in the bathroom. She just wanted to be like the other girls at the table--relaxed and confident, going with the flow of the conversation.
With one last deep breath, she made her way back to the table. Luke looked up at her as she approached. He could tell something was off.
"Everything okay?"
She just nodded, falling back into her silence at the table. She laughed when everyone else laughed, smiling politely when someone made a remark towards her. Luke had never seen her so quiet in his life, not even on the first day that they met. By the time everyone had left the bar, her anxiety was so bad she thought she might puke.
Luke opened the car door for her, and she slid in, staring blankly out the window. The silence between them was heavy. Luke could feel it too, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel.
"Am, what's wrong? You've been quiet all night. You barely said a thing."
The tears that she had been fighting so hard to keep at bay finally spilled out. "I... I feel so stupid. I-I couldn't even talk to them. I couldn't even... act normal."
He reached out, placing a hand on her thigh. His heart clenched at her words. "You're not stupid, Am. You're doing amazing. You're learning a whole new language, that's huge."
"But I had to have you help on everything. I could... not even answer Jack's questions. They normally think... I'm dumb. Not good for you." She wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself for crying.
"Amélie, baby. No one thinks you're dumb. And you are more than good enough for me--don't you ever doubt that. Jack loved meeting you. Everyone did. I could tell. They don't care if you need some help speaking English. Hell, some of those guys could use the help speaking English."
"I wanted... to be better. To show I can do this. But I feel...lost."
"You don't have to show anyone that you can do anything. Not to me, not to Jack, not to anyone. I love you for--"
"You love me?"
"Of course I do, Am. I... I didn't want to admit it like this. But... I am so in love with you, Amélie."
"I love you too, Luke. Sorry if I... embarrass you tonight."
"You could never embarrass me, Am. Never ever."
"I-"
"Nope, that's enough out of you. Let's go back to yours and watch that stupid cop show you like."
"Mensonges?"
"If that's what it's called, then yes."
"I love you, Lu."
"I love you too, Am."
~~
"I don't know, Jack. She was so nervous last time..."
"But last time there were other people there too. Just tell her you've got the place to yourself for the night and then I'll walk in a couple hours later and be like 'Oh! Sorry, my plans got cancelled.' And then we can all hangout," Jack suggested.
"I'm not going to lie to her. I'll just ask if she wants to spend the night."
"Come on, Rusty! You know I'm just trying to help her relax around me. You're making it sound like a big deal. It's not! She's your girlfriend, and I want to get to know her. Plus, I'll make it fun! I'm good with people."
"I appreciate the thought, Jack. But I want her to feel comfortable, not tricked. So I'll just ask her if she wants to come over and spend the night. No tricks."
"Fine, fine. Let me know what she says."
"I will. Just... don't be an idiot."
~~
Amélie followed Luke into his apartment, her backpack thrown over his shoulder. She looked around, noticing how painfully obvious it was that two men lived there.
"I'm just gonna put your bag in my room. You wanna go make yourself comfortable on the couch?"
"Sure."
She sat down, curling her legs under herself, glancing around the living room. She picked up the remote off the coffee table, fiddling with while she waited for Luke.
"You good?"
"Yeah. Just... taking in. It is very... you."
"What, you mean messy?"
She giggled, then tension in her shoulders disappearing. "Maybe... un peu."
"Hey, it's organized chaos, baby. I know where everything is. Well... most of the time."
"I like it. Feels... comfortable. Like you."
"That's all I want, babe. For you to be comfortable."
"Where's Jack?"
"Probably in his room. Why? Wanna talk with him?"
Amélie quickly shook her head, her eyes widening. "No, no... just wonder. I don't want to... bother him."
"You're not bothering him. He's probably playing video games or doing some stupid shit. He'll come out here eventually."
The last time she'd been around Jack, she hadn't been able to shake her nerves. Tonight, she was determined to make a better impression, even if she still felt like puking.
Luke gently nudged her with his elbow. "Hey, you're good, Am. Jack's chill. You don't have to be nervous."
"I know... just... want him to like me."
"He already likes you," Luke reassured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "He wouldn't shut up about how cool you were after the last time."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I wouldn't lie to you, silly."
"Love you, Lu."
"Love you too," he leaned in to kiss her when footsteps pulled them apart.
"Aww, did I interrupt a moment?" Jack's teasing voice came from the doorway.
"Relax, Jack. We were just talking... about you."
"Oh yeah?" Jack pushed himself off the wall, making his way to the couch. "All good things, I hope."
"Duh," Luke squeezed Amélie's hand, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "Amélie was just asking what you were up to."
"Probably nothing interesting compared to you lovebirds. Was talking to Trevor--can't let Luke get ahead of me in the whole having a life department."
She tried to think of a quick response to his joke, but came up with nothing she deemed funny enough.
"Luke tells me you like studying here cause it's different. How so?"
"Um, everything... is feeling bigger here. The city, the campus. And obviously... English. There is like... zero English in my town. We use some words... but not lots."
"Well, seems like you're doing great. Don't stress it. Plus you've got this guy," he gestured to Luke, "to help you out, right?"
She blushed, "Yes, Lu is... super."
Luke grinned, leaning in and whispering, "Told you he likes you."
~~
"I don't know how I'm gonna survive without you, Am," Luke admitted, wiping the tears from his face. His usually calm, relaxed demeanor was gone, replaced with a raw vulnerability.
Amélie had told herself she wasn't going to cry, but seeing Luke cry made that impossible. Her tears had started as soon as his had. "You will, Lu. You are so strong. And... I will not be gone forever."
He shook his head, intertwining their fingers. "I know, but... shit's gonna feel so different without you here. I'm used to having you here all the time. And now I won't see you until summer. I don't know how to do that."
"You'll have Jack, the guys, your family. I'm just... a plane away. We will FaceTime, and before you know... I am back. And I will meet Quinn... and your parents."
Luke rested his head in her lap, letting her run her fingers through his hair. She could feel his tears soaking the fabric of her jeans. "I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, Am."
"I'll miss you too, Lu. So, so much."
They stayed like that for a long time, just wrapped in each other's embraces. Neither of them wanted to let go. Neither of them wanted to admit how hard the next few months would be. They just wanted to stay together... forever.
~~
Amélie was sitting at her desk, her phone propped up against her water bottle as Luke's face filled the screen. His hair was a mess and his eyes drooping. She could tell he had just gotten home from practice.
"Hey, beautiful," he greeted.
"Hey, you," she replied, resting her chin on her hand. "How was practice?"
"Exhausting," he groaned. "But seeing your face makes it better."
Amélie blushed, biting her lip as she smiled. Before she could respond, she heard her brothers' voices coming from down the hall.
"Ah, c'est qui, Amélie?" (who is it, Amélie?)
"Son chum?" the other laughed. (her boyfriend?)
"Ahhh, mais Luke, t'es ben chix." (Ahhh, but Luke, you're so hot.)
"Ferme ta gueule!" Amélie shouted. (Shut your mouth!)
Luke burst out laughing at the look on his girlfriend's face. "What're they saying?"
She huffed, rolling her eyes. "They're being idiots. Teasing me about you."
"Teasing, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "What did they say? Come on, tell me."
She sighed, getting closer to the camera with a small smirk. "They said you're... how would that translate.... that you're 'hot.'"
"Oh, did they know? You must have good pictures of me hanging up then, huh?"
"They're just being annoying. They think it's funny to tease me because I love an American."
"Well, tell them I appreciate the compliment. And tell them I say 'hi'," he teased.
Amélie shook her head but shouted, "Luke dit bonjour!"
From the hallway, her brothers responded with exaggerated greetings in their broken English, making the couple laugh.
"They're something else, huh? I can't wait to meet them one day."
"They'll probably want you to ask Cole for free Habs tickets. But... in a few weeks, I'll be back and I'll get to meet all of your family."
Luke's eye lit up at the thought. "I know! I've been counting down the days, baby. I can't wait for you to be here again!"
"Me neither. Excited to meet Quinn and your parents."
"Yeah, my mom's super excited to meet you!"
"I'm a little nervous though."
"Don't be! They are gonna love you so much, Am!"
"I love you, Lu."
"I love you more, Amélie. Only a few more weeks, then we'll be together again. I can't wait."
"You promise?"
"I promise. And I'm gonna spoil you so much. Just you, me, and the lake."
"Can't wait."
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m-jelly · 2 days
Note
Postwar Levi a/b/o? Levi just scenting your things more because he’s self conscious
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Strong alpha scent
Levi x fem!reader
Post-war, canon world, married, alpha and omega, scent, self-conscious Levi, fluff, romance
Levi has noticed a man has shown some interest in you and has left a trace of his scent on you. So, Levi decides to rub his scent on as many of your things as possible.
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"Mm." There it was again, that man's scent. It was faint, so you hadn't been rubbing yourself on this man, but it was clear he had gotten too close to you. "Tch."
Levi did the laundry today while you were working out in the garden. The two of you were madly in love, he was alpha and you were omega. You were drawn to each other and nothing could come between you. He was always the caring and dominant mate.
After the war, Levi was still a strong alpha but had many dark thoughts. He was beginning to think that maybe he was weak or some other alpha would take you from him. He had to stand his ground or make some sort of move. He needed to assert his claim of you.
He shoved your clothes in to wash before limping to the bedroom. He threw the wardrobe open and stared at your clothes. He grabbed clothes you wore often and rubbed them against his neck so his scent was all over them. Once he had rubbed them against him, he then moved on to your outdoor things.
"Levi?"
He looked over at you as you gazed so sweetly at him. "Love."
You hummed a laugh. "What are you doing?"
"Making sure my scent is on your things."
You walked up to your husband and linked your arms around his neck. "Your scent is all over me. Plus, you've marked me."
He huffed a bit. "Well, it's not enough."
"Something on your mind?" You kissed the end of his nose. "Talk to me."
He gripped your hips. "Ever since the war...I...I'm not as strong...I'm not the alpha I once was." He tapped his forehead against your shoulder. "I smelt another on your clothes, another man. I need him and others to know, you are mine." He lifted his head and looked deep into your eyes as he growled his words. "You. Are. Mine."
You shivered at his words. "Yes, I am alpha." You kissed him and mewled in delight. "You should bite my scent spot. Mark your mark on me stronger."
"I want that."
You pulled him over to the sofa. "Sit."
He sat down and looked up at you. "Come here."
You sat on his lap and nuzzled the crook of his neck. "I don't want another alpha. The only person I want is you." You caressed his cheek as you looked deep into his eyes. "I love you."
He softly called your name. "I love you too."
He dragged his lips along your neck to the crook of your neck. He parted his lips before latching down on your scent spot and sucking hard. He moved his tongue against your warm skin and gripped you hard as you mewled and moaned. As he bit and sucked he could smell that his scent was taking over yours.
You purred in delight. "Levi."
He pulled back and dragged his tongue over his mark. "Perfect."
You panted a little. "It's strong. I'll wear your scent with pride, Levi."
He nuzzled his nose against yours. "Good."
"I tell everyone who mentions me being an omega that you are my alpha. I tell as many as possible because I love you so much and I'm so proud of you."
Levi blushed hard. "Proud? Mm...I'm proud to be yours too."
@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid
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dolliethv · 2 days
Text
One Of The Girls.
summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! Hiii, this is a pretty TO long story, I wanted to write something with a lot of sexual tension and a lot of smut, read it calmly and I hope you enjoy it xoxo!!
Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!
Word count: about 6k
You weren't sure if attending Jude's party was a good idea, but something inside you—maybe the excitement of Halloween and the thought of celebrating with your group of friends, or perhaps the hope of seeing him—convinced you. Jude's huge, new house in Madrid, decorated with lit pumpkins and fake cobwebs, gleamed in the distance, full of people already enjoying the night.
You stepped inside, and strobe lights danced on the walls, while laughter and music filled the air. You grabbed a drink as you passed by the improvised bar, trying to relax. You hadn’t taken more than two steps when you felt that familiar gaze tracing your body. You slowly turned, and there he was, Jude, leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed solely on you.
You wished the ground would swallow you because your damn group of friends was headed straight toward Jude Bellingham’s group. Of course, they all knew each other.
After your friends had chatted enough with the other group, you decided to take the lead.
"Couldn’t you put a little more effort into your costume?" That was the first thing you asked when you finally looked him in the eyes for the first time that night.
Curious about what he was actually dressed as?
Seriously? A simple cop uniform? You could bet your life on the fact that men have zero originality—they always go for the easy option. Lord, give me patience.
You absolutely hated basic Halloween costumes. Anything that took less than ten minutes and minimal effort didn’t deserve attention. It might seem a bit over the top, but given the number of creative ideas this particular holiday offered, you just couldn’t stand it.
Not when you even designed and made your own costume for the occasion.
But it was funny how quickly Jude changed your mind.
Basic is good. Basic is great. Damn it.
"What’s your costume supposed to be, anyway?" Jude continued, his voice calm but his body still a bit tense.
"It’s Suki from Fast and Furious!" Drew, one of Jude’s friends, shouted loud enough that the music barely muffled it.
He wasn’t even trying to hide his blatant staring, but truthfully, neither of you cared. You turned and headed off with your friends to who knows where.
You knew you looked good. You’d worked particularly hard on your outfit for tonight, so you had no reason to hide. Everything was perfectly planned, from head to toe.
Minutes passed, and you tried to convince yourself there was no reason to panic, but there were a lot of people, and your outfit was a bit too revealing. So, when you felt hands around your waist, you were ready to scream for whoever it was to back off.
"It's me."
Oh my God, you almost had a heart attack.
Jude pulled you against him, your back pressed to his chest, his left hand settling on your hip while his right extended around your shoulder to not-so-gently push people aside. The tall, dark-haired boy didn’t take long to start moving you both, making space with his prominent frame when people were too slow to get out of the way, shoving them until he cleared a path for both of you.
Stupid party, stupid Jude Bellingham. It was his fault you ended up there anyway. Jude may not have seen your face, but he definitely felt how tense you were in his arms.
"Why the bad attitude?"
Bad attitude? You didn’t know much about attitudes, but all your limited knowledge vanished when he pulled you even closer.
You cleared your throat briefly, your words followed by a slight shake of your head.
"Am I the one with the bad attitude?" you replied.
Because truthfully, you’d been on your best behavior since you got to that house. Or at least trying.
Jude loved driving you crazy; he thought you looked damn adorable acting tough at barely 5'1".
"By the way, you look amazing."
It was a great move, saying something so flattering to ease the tension.
"Thanks," you murmured, not caring whether he heard, your eyes glued to the back of the guy Jude was elbowing out of the way.
Two stomped-on feet and a "Are you gonna move or what the hell are you waiting for?" later, you were finally out of the chaos.
Well, as far out of danger as you could be at a party and in a house full of mostly strangers.
However, Jude didn’t stop there. He guided you to what you vaguely recognized as the first hallway on the right, his hands never leaving your body. It wasn’t unpleasant for you, not at all, but you both drew more than a few curious stares. It didn’t bother you much now that your closest friends knew. Other people’s opinions of you were never the most positive anyway, but you were surprised at how little Jude seemed to care, considering it was his house.
When you finally stopped, you found yourselves where you’d suspected a few moments earlier, slightly sheltered from the loud music. There were a few other people around, but they were far enough away not to intrude on your conversation.
Jude released you a few seconds before turning you around and wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you close as he leaned against the wall.
"I like your hairstyle; it’s cute," he said, grabbing a lock of your hair between his fingers. "Scratch that. Actually, I love how sexy you look with your hair down."
You were starting to seriously regret the day you told Jude you wouldn’t mind being complimented daily because it was getting out of hand.
How were you supposed to function properly when Jude kept looking at you with dark eyes?
You swallowed hard, shifting your gaze to the side of his face to avoid dealing with the intensity of his stare. You needed to say something and had to do it now.
"People were staring at us."
Of course, your voice trembled, and of course, out of all the things you could’ve said, you picked the one with the most potential to ruin the moment.
Jude was being very open tonight, and while you didn’t dislike it, it was new and somehow made him even more intimidating. All you could focus on was trying to stay afloat, despite involuntarily melting into the warmth of his touch and the comfort of his voice.
"When you look like that, baby, of course, people are going to stare."
You were getting nervous so quickly that it was unreasonable. Your breathing was already picking up, and butterflies were fluttering, one by one, to the point that you could no longer distinguish between those in your heart and those in your stomach.
This was exactly why you shouldn’t stay away from Jude for too long.
"News travels fast, Bellingham. Especially when you’re the footballer of the moment."
But with Jude, you didn’t have to worry. Jude could take care of both of you, and maybe you shouldn’t trust him, but God, it felt so good to be protected.
You desperately wanted to kiss him. Every brush of his thumb against your skin was electrifying. You needed to be closer, needed more, and this time, it had nothing to do with lust.
It was the kind of need you hadn’t felt before, the kind that demanded an exchange of feelings, even if not through words. Even if you tore off your clothes and pressed skin to skin, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, it wouldn’t be enough. You wanted to be inside Jude’s mind, to share all his thoughts, to experience the unknown, to finally understand each other, but you were too scared.
You couldn’t get there just yet.
"Your costume is stupid," you finally said, your voice coming out a bit more determined.
Jude’s lips curled into a smile, which quickly turned into a laugh that disappeared just as fast, but it was definitely something worth remembering.
"You’re so good at flirting," he purred sarcastically. "Tell me more."
You thought you might be able to keep a straight face, but as soon as you saw him smile, you followed. There was something so addictive about it, maybe the fact that you didn’t see it often, but it definitely made Jude ten times more attractive.
And he was already too attractive to begin with. God.
"It really is stupid," you confirmed your own thoughts, your fingers trailing up to fix the collar of Jude’s cop uniform. "But you look so sexy. I don’t know why I’m so into this kind of stuff."
You knew you weren’t the only one. It’s not for nothing that women love men in uniform.
"You don’t like the uniforms; you like the authority behind them. Or should I say, you’re afraid of it?"
Even though you had the same smile, Jude looked completely different, but he was right. You always felt uneasy around any kind of authority figure.
Watching Jude—with the quite noticeable height and body size difference compared to you, with the sleeves of his uniform stretching around his biceps every time he moved—you couldn’t blame yourself for feeling a bit nervous.
And to top it all off, a pair of very real-looking handcuffs hung from his belt.
So yeah, you gave up your principles about liking the basic for one night, but Jude had chosen a really good costume to spark your imagination.
"Honestly..." Jude grabbed your chin and pulled you even closer, his eyes fixed on your lips. "I wouldn’t mind being a cop if it meant I could make pretty things like you tremble."
As if he needed to be a cop to do that. Idiot.
As if you didn’t already find him intimidating enough without the costume. As if your knees didn’t buckle and your body didn’t heat up every time Jude looked you in the eyes for more than three seconds.
"I think that’d be an abuse of power."
Very socially aware of you, but it might be more believable if you stopped looking at him like you wanted him to take advantage of you. You know it's wrong to think that.
Jude hummed, sliding his thumb over your lower lip before pressing it and pulling it down. The movement was so sudden it made you hiss. It was almost embarrassing how willing you were for Jude to do whatever he wanted, to play with your body however he pleased, without questioning the reason.
"It isn’t if you enjoy it."
Their heads tilted to opposite sides, moving closer with lips tingling from the desire to kiss. You could feel Jude exhale before gently pressing his body against yours and brushing his mouth against yours when—
"Bellingham!"
Both grimaced, and you quickly jumped back, your hands starting to smooth out the wrinkles in your clothes. You didn’t turn around or look at Jude; you didn’t want to know if someone had really seen you and didn’t want to deal with it.
Jude’s friends weren’t the type of people he enjoyed talking to, so it would be weird to find yourself in a situation where you had to pretend to be a bit interested in what they had to say.
"Oh, hey," Jude responded with much less enthusiasm as the sound of footsteps grew louder.
"Good party, man."
You recognized the characteristically deep voice and immediately tried to move a little further from the sound. You opted to take the empty space next to Jude, and to avoid seeming rude, you looked up, meeting Trent Alexander’s eyes before giving a small nod in his direction. The man nodded back with a shy smile resting on your lips.
"Hey y/n, you look great!!" He said.
"Thanks."
You knew him, or at least you knew who Alexander was. In your defense, you knew all the people in your circle of unfortunately extroverted friends. You knew he was a guy with too much money, another footballer, not surprisingly—very attractive—and also much kinder than many other rich and attractive people.
However, you started to feel anxious.
Alexander didn’t seem to notice your discomfort, even after greeting you. But then the guy lowered his gaze, not going below the level of your skirt, but enough to make you wonder— is this guy checking me out?—God, men are all so bold.
Suddenly, Bellingham cleared his throat, subtly but enough to move you a little out of Trent’s view.
Oh, okay.
"Sorry to bother you, but my friend here won’t stop saying she wants to meet the great Jude Bellingham."
Unaware of the presence of someone else before, you moved your gaze to Trent, where a model-like tall girl was giving all her attention to Jude.
You were annoyed by how attractive she was. You couldn’t imagine how she looked in Jude’s eyes. You weren’t a fan of the cliché thought of hating other women over men, but damn, this feeling was hard to handle.
"Can you blame me? He looks even better than I imagined," she said loudly.
Then you looked at how that girl was dressed.
She was obviously someone very bold, and you were all for female empowerment, but if she came any closer to Jude, you’d have to break her neck.
If Jude hadn’t noticed her before, he definitely was now, shamelessly scanning her figure until stopping on her chest a bit longer than necessary. When he looked back at her face, he gave her a playful smile.
"She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. My kind of girl."
Sorry, what? His type of what? Is he really giving me a hint?
A fake and shy smile spread across the unknown girl’s face as she tilted her head slightly and flipped her hair back, exposing more of her neck and collarbones.
"Oh, yeah?" She asked, her voice interrupted by laughter. "What else is your type?"
Me?
The girl started tracing circles with her index finger over the lower part of her collarbone before dragging it down, outlining the beginning of her breasts. They were quite exposed; it was hard not to notice them, but there was no worse way Jude could handle it than staring at them, his expression not hiding what he was thinking.
Bellingham took a step towards her, immediately placing his right hand on her hip without gripping it, just touching a bit, while moving to whisper something in her ear.
There was absolutely no damn way Jude was doing this in front of you, there must be some kind of reality error. No fucking way, you were really holding yourself back from pulling him away from her and giving him a beating.
Once the brunette straightened up, they were both smiling, and you couldn’t hear it, but you read it from the girl’s lips.
"I got lucky tonight."
Well, you had never considered yourself a crazy person, or at least not one who acted out of her mind with no regard for social norms.
Nevertheless, at that moment, you could barely stand.
You had no doubt about it anymore; it was too strong not to recognize, too powerful to ignore. You were jealous, so jealous that all you could think about was violence and all you could see was red.
"I’m leaving," Alexander suddenly said, visibly uncomfortable with the looks being exchanged.
You didn’t even have time to thank him mentally before the girl grabbed his arm as if her life depended on it, sweetly smiling at Jungkook and saying:
"I’ll be waiting."
And with that, they left.
The crowd made them disappear in less than a minute, leaving no trace. All you could focus on now was the unshakable smile on Jude’s face.
You despised him.
None of this was part of the plan.
Jude’s plan was to keep you without sex for a while, make you show how much you missed him, make you feel so needy that you’d give in to anything in seconds. Bellingham thought nothing could compare to the feeling he’d have once he saw your desperation, the ease with which he’d let you go, giving him the upper hand in the situation.
He was wrong.
Something better than a proud version of you was a version willing to admit, to admit that you were jealous, and he made you realize it after this little outburst.
"Where were we?" He asked as if nothing had happened, his attention slowly returning to you, clearly displeased at his side.
-I might have overstepped a bit- you thought. Relax.
Since Jude did everything he could to avoid giving you more than a glance while talking to that girl, wanting to make it as real as possible, he was enjoying watching your reaction.
You stared defiantly at the wall opposite them, obviously trying to transfer all your anger to her instead of Jude.
Seeing you cute probably wasn’t what you was looking for, but Jude found it absolutely adorable.
"Is something bothering you, sweetheart?" He gently brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, his voice laced with false concern.
"No."
It wasn’t a very convincing lie with your teeth clenched and a blank expression on your face.
"Mm, I think it is."
"Good for you."
Jude had to stifle a satisfied smile. The way you responded with the first thing that came to your mind showed you weren’t thinking much before speaking.
"Not in the mood for a conversation anymore?"
You closed your eyes.
But you couldn’t do that, not when it was exactly what you wanted to do. He couldn’t be the first to break, admit his lust, show that he wanted to be with you so much that he’d trample his pride.
Not again.
“You know, I never took you for a jerk who got jealous so easily.”
If it were physically possible, your jaw would be hitting the floor. The air caught in your throat and your lips hung oddly open as you looked at Jude and found the lack of concern on his features.
Being honest was the easiest way to get through to him.
“How dare you?” You asked offended, pushing Jude away as hard as you could.
His balance seemed to falter as you failed to move him an inch, but he did successfully sway on his two feet, before Jude grabbed your wrists.
“How dare I what?” He asked you with an amused smirk. “Does she make you jealous? I was just having a conversation, babe.”
“No, not that.” You finished your statement with an irritated groan, violently breaking free from his hold. “You’re an idiot. Go have a conversation then.”
“Should I?”
The look you gave him only said one thing. “I fucking dare you.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to find her?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm. “You didn’t look at her face even once.”
Well, if it wasn’t obvious, you screwed up. The chances of her living without Bellingham mentioning what you wanted him to not notice were now basically non-existent.
“She didn’t put that on so I would look at her face.”
You had never looked so angry, your head shaking in disbelief and fists clenched on either side of your body. You looked like you were really struggling not to slap him and Jude couldn’t blame you. That was the point, after all.
“Oh, wow.”
He was already on his way to calming her down, his hands reaching for your waist, when you raised his in defense.
“Don’t touch me.”
You even pointed with your index finger in warning, wagging it when Jude didn’t stop.
“I’m not joking, I’ll slap you, don’t touch me- mhppm-”
With one hand around your waist and the other pressing against your jaw, Jude had you backed up against the wall in no time. Despite your earlier threats and your bad mood, you surrendered into his arms quickly, melting into the touch, your soft moans being muffled by Jude’s mouth. The longer it went on, the more eager you became, tugging at his uniform, trying to pull him closer despite your bodies already being together.
When he pulled away, you were a mess. It was being a fight for him to refuse your touch.
“We can go to my room…”
He whispered against you, before moving lower.
“Talk…”
He pressed a kiss against your chin
“I’ll make you laugh…”
And then one on the side of your jaw
“I can make you cum…”
You shuddered at the proposal.
You both knew he wanted it, that was not in doubt. The question was how far he would go to get it.
“You will have my full attention.” With sarcasm.
Another kiss, just below your ear.
“All you need to do is ask.” He made sure you were looking at each other when he spoke, eager to see your reaction. “Tell me you don’t want to see me with someone else.”
You noticed how your body completely gave out, all hope in your eyes. Your excitement was replaced with panic as your pupils dilated and your mouth opened and closed without saying a word.
The offer was so tempting, the promise so real, so possible. I hate it.
You wanted it so badly, but it was a matter of pride and even though you were the prouder of the two of you, it was clear that you still had a hard time taking a step back from him.
“If I need to ask for attention, then I don’t want it.” You replied with a dry tone.
“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Your jaw clenched at the implication. You knew it.
With the girl dressed in a bad porn nurse costume.
(...)
“Can you stop looking at him? I’m talking to you.”
The words of Odessa, your best friend, barely reached your ears, your thoughts overwhelming you in an almost pleasurable way.
You watched as Jude’s hand wrapped around an unfamiliar waist for the umpteenth time that night, causing your own fingers to grip your knee tightly.
This time it was a redhead, dressed in something that was more meant to cover the most private parts of her body than disguise, but who were you to judge? Right?
There was clearly a set pattern that you noticed during the time you spent sitting, gaping and staring in Bellingham’s direction. People would come up to say hello, most often women, their hands touching as much as they could without being inappropriate and a few minutes after sharing a few words they would come over with eyes fluttering in a way that could only mean one thing.
The first few times it happened, your heart nearly stopped beating. You were sure you knew what was about to happen next- Jude would take her by the hand and lead her to his bedroom.
But it didn’t happen. Not with the curly-haired brunette, not with the six-foot-eight leggy blonde, not with the one he was feasting on now.
Is he not interested? You asked yourself.
A raspy growl rumbled somewhere deep in your throat before you grabbed your glass and clumsily emptied it down your throat, not caring how the liquid spilled from the corners of your lips and down your chin.
You called out to your friends, as you abruptly stood up, almost tripping over someone sitting between them.
“Let’s dance.”
Your lips formed a smile at the thought of Jude seeing you with someone else. It was childish, yes, but you didn't really care.
You were about to execute your plan, but when you turned around, you found nothing worth your attention. The spot Jude was occupying all this time now had other people in it, no sign of the brunette in sight.
You wished you could say that it didn’t affect you.
So you turned your back on your friends and walked in the opposite direction, your newly gained good mood now ruined. You thought maybe if Jude admitted to being jealous, you could too. It would make it less embarrassing.
If Jude was here, surely he could get something better.
Yes, if Jude was here. If he wasn't fucking someone else.
"Having fun?"
A familiar voice reached your ears, close enough to feel the vibration of the sound, making you shiver, thanking God the place was too dark for anyone to notice as Bellingham's proximity made your entire body shake.
You kept your eyes on the empty glass in front of you not quite sure how you were going to respond with his mood.
Any words or actions from you from now on could be detrimental.
"Don't you want to talk to me?"
Silence.
"Okay, I'll go then."
Jude didn't even move. He didn't pull away, nor did he lean back. He stood right where he was five seconds ago, the same annoyed, mocking smile on his features.
"You're still not jealous?"
You weren't just jealous, you were seething with it.
"I am, actually. Tell anyone and I'll make sure it's the last thing that comes out of your mouth."
Admitting jealousy was a big deal for you, especially since you didn't know if Jude felt the same way. Also knowing what was coming after this.
"There's not much that can brighten my mood right now."you entered the room, "I just needed courage for what I'm about to do." locking it once the door was closed.
When you turned around, your eyes met and Jude felt something he hadn't felt in a while, it felt like he didn't really know anything about you.
He wasn't blind to the progress you'd made in the different areas of your relationship, but there was still a lot left to say, explain, discover, and - in a situation like this, when you seemed to be a completely different person - he was surprised at how much he still had to get to know you.
"Yeah? And can I know what it is?"
He longed to feel you again on other parts of his body and even more so when your hot mouth landed on his mouth as you said-
"Punish you."
It wasn't that it hadn't crossed Jude's mind that you might do something like this all night, but still, hearing you out loud was enough to bring a smug smile to his lips.
"Oh, really?"
It would be a lie to say you didn't find it fun.
Things were definitely taking a different turn than he had planned, but then again, ever since the party started, all of his plans were ruined, so he was surprisingly not opposed to the idea.
He was actually very intrigued.
You hummed in agreement and within seconds your hands were back on Jude's body, this time being bolder and freer with your movements.
It was the first proper touch that night and Bellingham thought he was ready, but he really had no idea how much he had missed this until he experienced it again. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but the feel of your palms and the heaviness of your fingers prevented him from doing so.
Your hands moved in opposite directions, one sliding down his abdomen and the other circling the side of his neck. With the pad of your thumb, you traced circles on his skin, massaging and releasing some of the tension.
He had a hard time trying to keep from getting an erection from the moment he laid eyes on you when you arrived. Now... now it was impossible.
"You know..." you started saying.
Jude heard your whisper, but could barely register it due to the heat that was beginning to creep steadily down his body, fading only for a moment when his belt got in the way, but then coming back stronger, with a grip more powerful than before. Bellingham would be ashamed to admit that his breath hitched as soon as he felt you where he wanted it most.
“I’d rather have these for myself, but you left me no choice.”
It all clicked, both metaphorically and literally, in his brain and out loud, but Jude couldn’t move fast enough to stop it.
The handcuffs were already dangling from the tip of your index finger as you swung them teasingly back and forth in front of his face.
Oh. Interesting.
The way you could overpower Jude in a mere second was wonderful.
“What makes you think I’m going to let you do that?”
You pursed your lips briefly as if contemplating his answer.
“And what makes you think I’m going to ask for your permission?” You replied.
“Maybe that drink was too much after all,” he looked at you with a smirk. “Looks like you’re confusing roles.”
Judging by his expression, you didn’t share the same opinion.
You pushed him until the back of his knees hit the bed.
Jude didn’t stop you or object, instead sitting on the edge as he was pushed down, curious to see how things would play out.
“Are you threatening me, baby?” He asked, leaning back on his forearms.
You looked perfect from every angle, she was so sure of it now.
Your free hand gripping Jude’s jaw and squeezing it a little in annoyance.
“My name isn't ‘baby’.”
You slid your fingers down the side of Bellingham's throat where the smear of a lipstick still rested on his skin.
As you stared into each other's eyes, you looked so angry that Jude couldn't help the heat spreading throughout his insides.
"Wouldn't that make you even more angry, baby?" He emphasized on the nickname on purpose, arching an eyebrow mockingly.
The sound that came out of your throat was quiet, but he didn't miss it.
-Even her grunts are cute.-
"Shut the fuck up."
It was clear that you weren't usually the type to get angry to that extent, and even if you had been, you were the type to never act on it.
"Keep your hands behind your back if you don't want to lose your most prized possession."
You felt it before you understood it - a pressure of something hard and unfamiliar against your crotch. Something unwanted.
And it came, a sign. Not too big, not too flashy, not too obvious, but painful and threatening.
Your foot moved so abruptly that the tip of your shoe met the tip of Jude's cock and hit dangerously close to his balls.
You did it. I got you.
"Good choice."
With one swift movement, his crotch was free again, but his hands were bound at the wrists by the steel rings.
You pushed him down onto the bed and pulled his shirt open, leaving his chest completely bare.
“Shit,” you muttered at the sight. “You’re lucky to be attractive.”
“And you’re lucky to be able to see me like this.”
You sent him a questioning look. “Oh, I am? Who hasn’t gotten to see you like this? Because from what I’ve witnessed, you don’t exactly have a criterion when it comes to who you let undress you.”
“You seem really upset by that thought, sweetheart. Are you scared of having a little competition?”
“And what makes them my competition? They’re not as pretty as me.”
“But they’re a lot more obedient.” He replied.
Pure shit.
There’s nothing Jude likes more than how disobedient you are.
“You know my legs are always open for you.”
"Baby..."
"You know you can take anything you want from me, anywhere you want... any way you want..."
Every syllable that came out of your mouth was filled with confidence. Your fingers caressed his jaw as if he was teasing, barely grazing the skin before pulling away and touching another part.
"You have such a dirty mouth." The boy said.
"You want it around your cock?"
Holy shit, did you really say that?
"Yeah."
You hummed, acting like you were considering it.
"But I think you acted like shit, I don't think you deserve it."
"You're lucky that I'm tied up right now, otherwise I'd fuck you until you were ruined."
You seemed to take it as a compliment, your thighs clenching tightly around Bellingham's hips to feel him better.
"Oh yeah? You wanna fuck me?"
As if his massive erection wasn't proof enough already.
“Yes, baby. So bad.”
His confession brought a satisfied smile to your face.
“You wanna see what I got under there?”
“Show me how pretty you are.”
But you didn’t take off any clothes.
You just started riding one of his thighs, your movements teasing and slow.
“Shit. Take this off me.” The dark-skinned one said.
“And why would I do that?”
God, this was getting so frustrating. Jude wanted nothing more to do than watch you choke on his cock until you remembered how to talk to him properly. You shifted a little on his lap, creating a small but effective friction.
“Baby…”
“Suck.” You claimed.
Shit. Usually, Jude was the one giving the orders. Usually, you were the one with Jude’s fingers inside your mouth, too. He opened his mouth obligingly and you immediately pushed two of your fingers in, letting them rest on the tip of his tongue before pushing them fully into his mouth.
“You like having my fingers in your mouth?”
Jude couldn’t help but like the mess he was turning you into.
You withdrew your fingers without warning and brought them to your own mouth, sucking and moaning lewdly as you looked directly into Bellingham’s eyes.
“You’re so fucking dirty.”
Your hand trailed until it was just above your breasts, eyes still on Jude’s as you squeezed your tits.
Jude didn’t even have time to react before he saw you move up your own body and rub through the material covering your pussy, touching up and down a bit teasing the boy in front of you, leaving a wet spot when you pulled your hand away.
“Move your hips for me. Can you do that for me?” That innocent tone you set made Jude explode. And he didn't need to be told twice.
He put all of his weight on his arms, his palms and heels sinking deep into the mattress, and he lifted his hips so hard that you jumped a little on his lap.
Without further ado, he thrust up, fast at first, to give you a taste of his desire, but then slower, nicer, dragging his length over your underwear-covered clit.
You decided to go a little further and freed Jude's cock, so damn big and veiny. You pulled off your underwear and started rubbing yourself. It was so damn delicious the difference in size and how the head of Jude's cock rubbed against your clit.
But what kind of punishment would it be, giving him something he so craved? You knew. You had prepared better.
So when you forgot about everything except the repetitive motion you were supposed to follow, when your moans were finally released loud and clear in the way only he had heard them before, when he could already feel the pleasure, you lifted your hips.
Bellingham groaned in frustration, closing his eyes as he fucked into the air, unable to stop his body from seeking the orgasm he had just been denied.
“Untie me this very instant.”
He may not have sounded angry at his ragged breathing, his body still recovering from the denial, but he was and he would gladly show you how terrifying he could be if he gave him the chance.
You smiled sweetly, dropping your weight onto his lap, a movement so sudden it left him breathless.
“No.”
"I wasn't-" He trailed off, a small sound escaping his mouth from another roll of your hips on his axis. "I wasn't asking."
"Fuck, did I tell you how big you are?" You replied, your small body shaking as you pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. "You should learn not to play with me Bellingham, I'm not one of those girls, don't get wrong with me."
You pulled up your underwear and pulled back up the shorts that barely covered your ass and the small miniskirt accompanied by a pink belt that was hooked with straps to the leggings that reached just above your knee.
"Shit, shit, shit..." He replied frustrated.
"I'm sorry but now you'll have to fix this on your own." You turned around and walked away.
Jude Bellingham is totally lost.
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blissxjj · 2 days
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Hello hello!! I would like to request de brothers with a MC who is a extreme kisser. They lose almost all their breath to be able to stay in a long kiss. And then go to another.
I'm sorry if it's too hard to understand 😥, English is not my first language.
Brothers X An Extreme Kisser
Featuring: Lucifer/Mammon
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Lucifer
It was a nice quite evening as Lucifer sat on his desk doing some paper work, till he heard a knock and you cracked the door peeking in
"You can come in MC" he said and you push the door and ran to his desk
"Luci you said you would stop overworking yourself" you said extremely aware of his workaholic nature
"I am sorry sweetheart but, you know Diavolo needs me now more than ever" Lucifer said
"Well maybe i need you more than him" you said getting annoyed
He looked up at you and your face heats up because you just realized what you said. You finally make your way towards him and give in to your desires
You lean over his desk grabbing his tie pulling him in for a slow passionate kiss. Lucifer knew he was in for a long one as he had always known how extreme your kisses are, as much as he wants to breath he can't bring himself to pull away from you, both because of your grip on his tie and just the pure lust he started feeling, rising through his body making it harder and harder to breathe.
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Mammon
It was early morning when you woke up to your bed shuffling, looking back to see Mammon tossing and turning in bed while sleeping. You turn to face him and lift your hand to brush over his cheek, that was enough to make his eyes flutter open. Still heavy with sleep he mumbles a "good morning" to you before his eyes close again
"You move alot in your sleep you know that?" You asked
"Yes and there is nothing you can do to stop it" he said
You loved this challenge, as it made you want to win and rub it in his face
"Bet i can restrain you for a good while" you said seductively
"Really!?" Before he could say more you smack your lips on his and turned to get on top of him, the sudden action made Mammon blush like hell, your kiss made him numb as you lick, bite and rub on him, he broke it off for some air and he said between huffs
"So extreme! But you did restrain me so that’s a point for you"
Masterlist
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tiyoin · 2 days
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Tiyoin, I'm starting to yapping again. So I've been thinking about expanding more on the contest in the twst singer au. Like the outfits, posable songs, duets(?), posable challenge in the contest(?), the magic ✨,etc. Side note posable doesn't seem like a real word
For the outfits Vil would have mostly have control over them. Like he'll ask reader about fabrics she likes or give them a few designs to pick from but that's about it. 🌀 would probably wear simple just elegant outfits. Looking good enough to belong there w/o sticking out.
The fits definitely have a purple/blue base/ she has wears accessories that shows others that 🌀 kinds belongs to Vil/ Rook cuz rook is always here and never ever leaves(I think I have a problem). I like to picture the purple getting darker as reader progresses though out the contest as a way to show development in reader/overall.
Next, part of the outfits are the magic masks. With the masks you would only see the contestants' mouth, chin/jaw area. And the magic just makes it hard for people to figure out who is singing. Obviously with different themes/vibes the outfits and masks change with them.
Now onto the duets. In the voice they have the contestants do duets with each other right? So I was thinking there would be smth similar. Maybe with the judges, someone they picked w/o the mask(Rook) or, with a different judge(Neige?) so there's not like any cheating/favoritism ya know?
Like Rook &🌀 singing everything has changed. There's a line that says green eyes and freckles. Idk if rook canonically has freckles but it's a cute though and maybe they're hard to see 🙈 so he's like "🌀 has been staring at me*kicking feet while giggling*"
I'm going to start yapping about what I've been most excited for. The ✨magic✨. I was thinking that they could be fairies like Tinkerbell orrrr they're just little balls of light that fit in your hand. Like they all have little personalities, emotions, families everything.
Overall just mini friends for 🌀. They have different teams for all the contestants but, none of them ever treat them well or acted like they're just tools and, bcuz of that they never do more than the minimum for the contestants.
I think reader is the type to be nice/polite to everyone till there's a reason not to. A treat people how you want to be treated way and, bcuz of that they really help 🌀 in and out if the contest.
I personally like they being little balls more. It seems sweeter/more comforting/ genuine for them and reader that way. Picture them playing in the woods with reader just having fun 💞💞
But If you like them more Tinkerbell like it can be like a seasonal job for them. Imagine how cute it would be if 🌀 sings a love song and 2 of them start dancing together💘(too young by Sabrina Carpenter?)
For the challenges I was thing maybe a writing on. Like theyre given a word/place/object and have to make a song around it and Vil can only help reader a little bit. Maybe that have a acoustic round were the fairies can't help at all. Or they sing a different language.
Honestly I think the hardest part of this is finding the songs. I can so see 🌀 writing most of their songs based off their dreams/stories they read. Tbh I've been listening to So long London the whole time typing this and, can see 🌀 winning a challenge with it. Cuz the other would write/do really poppy songs and reader comes out with the opposite vibe.
Vil & Rook would be there when reader writes it/perform it for the first time and, they're blown away. Like yea they knew wrote her own songs but they never thought it would be that good.
I'm sorry I know I said songs and it turned out only being one. I just don't know what happy songs to give to reader. 😕 Reader just give "I hate feeling this way but i find comfort in the way I feeling" ya know?
ANYWAYS I hope you get a good night's sleep and I love today's chapter. I honestly thought u were writing about me for a moment that's how badly I was relating to 🌀. Sorry if there any mistake it's another 3-4am ask.
MELLLLLL MELLLLLLLLLLLL
VIL AND ROOK WOULD ABSOLUTELY SUBTLY STAKE A CLAIM ON READER VIA CLOTHES. the clothes they wear are 100% pomefiore inspired threads that they designed and crafted themselves. maybe crewel catches wind of this and it becomes a WHOLE fashion operation that mc does NOT want to be apart of (maybe she does, but doesn't feel like she's worthy enough for any of these nice things/ to be pampered over like this)
if the octotrio somehow finds out about this, I can imagine azul or one of the twins making a comment (if mc wears a lilac color that day) that mc looks 'beautiful in octanvinelle's colors and that it suits her more than those saturated colors she's normally wrapped in..' only for vil to take lilac completely out of her wardrobe OR keep it to a minimal 😭
imagining that the masks that get sent to the participants are normally blank, white mascarade masks, but because they're magic they alter with the theme. and so when new one comes out the mask changes to that theme and the participants can make their outfits around the masks.
WITH THE DUETS I CAN IMAGINE NEIGE SIGNING UP FOR THE CONTEST AND THEM GETTING PAIRED UP, ONLY FOR VIL TO RECOGNIZE HIM AND GET PISSED TF OFF😭
"I heard that aggitating, grading voice-"
'maybe I shouldn't of signed up to be a judge....' well thinks with anger as he watches the two of you practice via mirror. im imaging the duets are something like the duets in 'the voice' where you both sing against each other but also with each other.
but also, for some fun, and for a harder round, maybe you have to pick someone in your life (maybe that fits a theme or category?) to sing with you?
and im so glad savannaclaw rook's card came out because our weird king has freckles!! wohoo!!
rook picking a song that kind of describes mc through the lyrics and every time he gets to a line like that he makes -prolonged eye contact- with mc and it kinda messes them up because WHY ARE YOU STARING AT HER LIKE THAT- SIR- SIR???
MEL YOURE A FUCKING GENIUS
I NEBVER EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT FAIRIES
THEY COULD BE THE WORKERS WHO ARE TASKED BY THE COMPETITION TO HELP THE CONTESTANTS STAY WITHIN THE RULES AND TO MAKE SURE EVERYTHING GOES SMOOTHLY
I was thinking the exact same thing tbh, the fairies are treated horribly by the fame hungry contestants who only see them as 'measly employees' or even 'personal servants' to them via the show. but mc would be a little frightened by their gruff attitude but over time, as mc starts treating the fairies with upmost respect and kindness... they start telling their friends and the other fairies. and yeah, they start to favor mc and subtly and I mean SUBTLY sabotage the other contestants
ofc if beige was a contestant he'd treat hem nice too, but the fairies are kinda annoyed by him being TOO kind. because fairies are sassy, VERY sassy .
maybe to everyone else they're balls of light but to the contestants they're fairies? or maybe they only let you see their true form if they like you or trust you enough!
mc singing a love song and a bunch of 'fire flies' start dancing and twirling around them, only for it to be later released that it was the fairies. MAYBE A FAIRY WAS SCOUTING FOR NEW PARTICIPANTS AND THEY COME ACROSS MC AHHHH (at the end of the song when one is on mc's hand it bites her 😭 later that's her assigned fairy)
maybe after losing horribly one round mc is sad and singing a sad song, but the fairies come around and start playing and singing along until it becomes a happy song and they're all dancing. maybe... the fairy that at fist didn't like mc accidentally leaves the camera rolling and the whole of twisted wonderland actually SEES the fairies dancing and singing and playing with mc.
and there's a secret vote that no one in the history of the show has ever gotten. its called 'the fairies favor,' and its only bestowed to those who got eliminated but the fairies disagree with it and veto the vote. but the viewers have to agree with it?
the challenged are gonna be so weird ngl. like one is a theater challenge and another is writing your own song too. the show likes to make it hard- I mean entertaining so the viewers dont get bored. so you TRULY have to be a jack of all trades for this.
I haven't listened to that but I'll def give it a whirl 😼 I like to think that reader is really expressive through song and can come out with bangers. like I think that she def wins a challenge with 'wildflower, by billie eillish' after something bad happens. or maybe 'Andromeda, by weyes blood'
but the songs that mc uses to express her experiences and emotions make rook and vil develop a soft spot for her, and because they're really the only ones who know about all this, she slowly becomes a member (unofficially) of pomefiore (yes! evil scheming DOES work >:) )
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Hello everyone! I'm getting a start early, by queueing this post for tomorrow morning, look at me go. Thank you who much to @tailsbeth-writes for the tag <3 I have ... 3 wips again, because I have no self control, so we're doing all of this under the cut, because it's gonna be long, and maybe a lil nsfw <3 LET'S GOOOOOOOO.
------ George Villier's inner dialogue during an Orgy (that's the working title on this, please bare with)
It wasn’t that George had always been this way, but an ascension into power had nurtured his hedonism prone nature. If he was to be blessed with the gift of beauty, he would take all the power and pleasure that came with it. He’d earned it after all, his bed of lovers, his social standing, influence, and wealth. Each a result of unsavory acts; but that made them so much more deserved, did it not? He could have anything he wanted, like a god among men, and so he should be worshipped the same. Though he was more than content with devotion in the form of flesh; he’d certainly used his own body as currency often enough. Even now, anything that wasn’t handed to him willingly, with a brush of lips, or a clandestine slip to knees, could become his. That in itself was testament to all he’d done, that his willing submission was as effective a bargaining tool as his power.
WATERSPORTS FIRSTPRINCE (aka, Alex is funny and Henry has a weak bladder)
“You… think it’s- what?” Henry choked out, “You think it’s hot that I pissed myself in the middle of our kitchen? Is that your idea of a joke?” “I-” the brunette could feel his own cheeks heating up now, “It’s not a joke, I do, I’m sorry, but I do,” he managed after a moment. “Oh,” the blond’s eyes shot straight down to the shorts Alex had on, falling on the visible hardness there, “Oh,” he repeated, but with much more understanding this time. There were still tears sparkling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall, but he was visibly less mortified, “Alex, that is so disgusting...” “I know, shit baby, I’m s-” “I can get into it.” “What?” “I said, I can get into it,” Henry repeated, “Well, honestly, I could probably get into anything that makes your cock hard, because- well frankly I reap the benefits of that. Would you like to fuck my throat?”
AND A NEW WIP, Hairstylist Henry and his least (read as favorite) Client Alex
“Alright, tilt your head back,” both of Henry’s hands rested on Alex’s temples, carefully moving the other man’s head into the perfect place, “Do you want me to stop under the jawline?” “Whatever you think looks best, sweetheart.” Normally, Henry would hate that, some businessman using a pet name on him. But usually it felt demeaning, when Alex did it, it felt genuine, perhaps that was why he didn't mind it. He would rather accept that than admit it might have something to do with how hot his cheeks felt or how his stomach flip flopped. Instead, he chose to focus on something else, like the familiar but luxurious scent becoming more evident the closer he was to Alex. “Santal 33?” the blond asked, running the trimmers over the other man’s jawline, making careful precise lines that would accentuate the sharp angles there. “Yeah,” impressively, Alex had answered that without much movement of his face; Henry was astonished. “Makes sense.” “What is that supposed to mean?” this time, the brunette moved, but he did have the mind to wait until Henry was running the trimers along his throat with less chance of Alex’s jolt messing up something. “It means you look like someone who has good taste, don’t move.” “You’re worse than a dentist,” Alex grumbled. “Stop moving, christ you’re an absolute menace, I’m going to slice your throat open.” “With an electric trimmer?” “I’m certain if I make enough effort, I just may be able to pull it off,” Henry snapped.
OKAY, that was a long one, if you stuck around thank u I love u. TAG LINE UP!!!!
@taste-thewaste @eusuntgratie @henrysfox @thighzp
@softboynick @catdadacd @sheepywritesfics @henryspearl
@basil-bird @caressthosecheekbones @henfox @onthewaytosomewhere + literally anyone else I'm sleepy and forgot, or anyone who sees this and wants to tag me, I love reading yall's stuff. <3
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rjthirsty · 15 hours
Text
Bound Forever
Gilbert/Reader Roderic/Reader
Words: 2k
CW: Major Character Death. Angst. Tragedy. Grief. Smut. Route Spoilers.
A/N: @scummy-writes did a piece on Gilbert dying called Normalcy Bias that inspired this piece. We've spoken at length about our Gil headcanons, and I admire her as a writer, so I wanted to give myself a chance to mimic the depth of emotion I read in her works. I'm honestly hoping to cause some tears with this.
Gilbert had disappeared again.
It was always terrifying when he vanished, because you knew the only reason he had for leaving without saying a word - he was unwell. Like a wounded or sick animal, Gil removed himself from the palace to find a place he could rest until either he felt better or he perished. Thankfully he had always returned, but you still hated every time he left, feeling helpless and worried sick that you might not see him again.
Walter knew before you did. He always knew when Gil left, but he wasn't allowed to say anything. That, in itself, was a giveaway on why you couldn't find your husband. Just looking at Walter these days answered the question for you since you had danced this routine enough times to know when Gil had told him to keep things from you. Today, Walter refused to make eye contact with you when you visited his office in the medical ward, pretending like he didn't see you enter. You didn't even need to ask. That was enough.
Roderic knew, though he didn't know where Gil ran off to, or even if it was the same location each time. Walter was likely the only one who truly knew where Gil was. Roderic was painfully aware whenever Gilbert disappeared, scared that his master - his friend - would never return. Since you became a part of their lives, Roderic would stay with you on those long days that Gil vanished and the two of you would hold hands and try to keep each other's minds off the possibility. Neither of you wanted to voice that possibility.
As night fell, the black castle felt darker and more hollow without Gilbert's presence. Alone in your shared room, you restlessly waited for your husband's return. Some absences would span a few days, some only a few hours. Today turned to tomorrow, and a sleepless night passed you by with still no word from him.
Another day with Roderic for company. Another attempt to keep your thoughts from spiraling to the worst case. Perhaps baking would help. Gil could return to an abundance of sweets and maybe, just maybe he'll understand how hard it is for you when he goes off like this.
Another dusk leaving you alone with your fears for company in your shared room. Another sleepless night. Another morning that looks more gray than the previous. Three days was the longest he had ever spent away. It had only been two. There was still hope he would return, though that hope was a candle in the fury of a storm right now, barely keeping lit.
“You need to sleep.” Walter scolded.
“I want to see him as soon as he comes home.” It was a silly reason to keep yourself from sleeping, but even if you attempted to rest, you'd be haunted by the thought of him dying somewhere alone. He was alone right now. Alone and sick.
“I'll wake you when he gets back.” Roderic offered.
You're tired. A short rest would be good for you, but… “I'm scared.”
The tears start falling as you hug yourself. Walter looks away, cursing Gilbert for putting you through this. Roderic watches you, unable to offer any assurances. He's scared, too.
Laying on the large bed you share with your husband, it feels so cold and empty. The sunshine doesn't touch here even with the curtains opened. Your pillow is wet from your tears. You can't seem to quell them.
“I'll be right outside,” Roderic promises.
What good would that do? You're still alone in this large room. Exhaustion weighs your eyelids down until you fall into darkness.
You wake into darkness. The large windows are filled with the night sky. The room has no candles nor lamps lit. A shadow stands near the bed, far enough that his presence is hidden but the dull, midnight light from the sky beyond the windows outlines his form. His black hair shines like obsidian and you draw in a sharp breath.
“Gil?” You whisper his name, fearful that the slightest noise would wake you from this dream and he would fade away like an apparition.
He doesn't answer. He's not really there. Again tears well in your eyes and stream down your cheeks.
“Don't cry, Little Rabbit.” He steps towards the bed, out of the shadows. “Did you miss me that much?”
His red eye gleams from the starlight. His smile is perfectly placed. Now that he's closer you can see the layers he's wearing, still in his cloak, he must have just arrived. You glance towards the door, wondering why Roderic didn't wake you. The closed door gives no answers, though it is clearly late so perhaps he went to bed.
Throwing the blankets off, you jump out of bed and run to your love. You throw your arms around him and nuzzle into his chest and the tears come faster. “Yes, I missed you that much!”
Shakily drawing in breaths between your outpouring of feelings and the sobs you try to swallow down, you continue as you cling to him. “Everytime you leave like that I don't know if I'm ever going to see you again! It's been three days! I thought the worst and I couldn't sleep and you can't keep doing this to me!”
Slowly, Gil's arms wrap and you. Gently, he rubs circles on your back to soothe you. He leans down to softly drop a warm kiss to your forehead. He has no words to comfort you. He makes no promises. He never does.
“That was the last time.”
Except, this time he does.
He's warm in your arms.
You draw back as the horrible realization hits you. Looking up into his single red eye that holds more emotions than Gil ever expressed, you take a step backwards. Shaking your head as if it would do any good to convince yourself this wasn't happening, you back up another step.
“No no no. No. Please. No!” A third step has you stumbling into the bed, falling onto it. You can't even feel your legs anymore.
The man posing as Gilbert slowly came closer. The man who hadn't woke you on your husband's return, because he had never returned. Roderic delicately cups your jaw. Warm hands. He wipes your tears, even as new ones fall. Warm fingers. He speaks in such a sweet voice. A voice you love. “It's alright, Little Rabbit. You won't have to miss me ever again.”
Grief so deep you never thought possible drowns your heart and sobs wrack you. Warm lips kiss your eyes as your pain pours out.
Somehow he was on the bed next to you and you fall against his shoulder. Warm arms hold you close.
He murmurs words of affection and hushes soothing encouragement. And when your sobs finally die down to hiccups and gasps and shuddering breaths, you find a handkerchief already in hand to help clean your face. He guides you through the movements you are too numb to manage on your own.
His lips touch the corner of your mouth. Dazed, you turn towards him and your husband's face looks so forlorn. Fingers touch below your chin, lifting it for lips once again to touch yours. So soft. A slow blink from you and you find your voice.
“Roderic–”
“Gil.” He corrects, and the offer is so tempting.
You knew this was always the plan. You hoped it would be a long time from now, and you had pushed it from your mind. But the time has come and now… it would be so easy to close your eyes and pretend it was all a bad dream.
“Gil.” You repeat, your eyelids falling close.
“That's right, Little Rabbit.”
It's his voice that gusts across your lips. 
A nibble on your bottom lip and a longing sigh rises from your throat. It's his teeth that catches you, so familiar in pain and pleasure.
His tongue touches yours and you can almost believe that he's still there with you. Your mouths move together, chasing the memory of the man you love through clumsy movements that aren't quite right.
It hurts so much. Your chest aches and head throbs and you just want to forget. 
Fingers find clasps, and pull ties, and brush clothing from both of your bodies. Were they yours or his? Does it matter?
Teeth sink into flesh and tongue soothes the pain and your body responds to the training you've endured to appreciate the way his love feels on you. Marks blossom on your skin from his mouth that burns too hot.
Your eyes burn, tears forming between eyelids squeezed tight.
Your chest burns, bleeding out from the inside.
Your groin burns, desire whispering sweetly that if you just let go it'll be alright.
Think of him.
Think of him.
It hurts so, so much.
Your fingers tangle in his hair. His fingers push inside of you. You cry out his name as he rubs along your inner walls, exploring you for the first time, finding the places that cause you to buck into his hand and whimper and moan.
He learns quickly. He has always known.
New overlaps with old as your husband touches on memories from times before. Building that sweet ache in the pit of your belly. Causing your cunt to throb and drip making lewd sounds that your lusty moans overshadow.
You're on your back and he's over you. When did you lie down? He pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper in frustration. You were so close to covering the hurt in your heart with the pleasure of climax and he snatched it away.
He's gone.
A single sob breaks between your gasping breaths. Tears brim again between your closed eyelids. They fall hot, so hot down the sides of your face. You're empty. Alone.
His cock touches your wet folds and you crack your eyes to see your lover with damp lashes. He looks away and buries his face in your neck as he buries his cock inside of you. Your back arches and thighs cling to his hips, as he clings to you with strong arms and roaming hands.
He pumps into you and you can't help but rock with him to squeeze and drag and churn his dick inside of you. Fingers digging into his back. Nails biting skin. He gasps and whimpers and moans near your ear. You love to hear him. His teeth dig into you. It hurts so good.
You're not alone. Your voice grows louder. He's relentless. Pounding your sex and knocking every moan out of you. Biting you again, and again, and again. Your cunt clenching tight as the pressure in your pelvis reaches a tipping point.
His thrusts turn too eager. His rhythm lopes out of pace. But you're so, so close! Please! Just– “Ah! Gil!” His hot hands grip your hips and he slams into you finding his rhythm again and he moans and heat and orgasm and shivers and spasms snap through you.
Your thoughts go blank, flooded with relief from the throbbing from before. Euphoria washes over you, wave after wave as your cunt continues to clench sending another crashing over you, then another. Gil slowed down his pumping to ride out the squeezing milking his cock. And just as you finally thought you were coming to the end of your climax, Gil thrusts deeper, his pelvis flush against yours, trying to push further still as he spills his seed into you.
You gasp. He breathes heavily on top of you. You hold him pressed against you– too hot. So hot. He's stifling. He clings to you. He needs you to smother his own pain. Pain you understand because the both of you share it. Pain neither of you can ever talk about.
He's gone. The two of you are together but his absence in this room you share with your husband is felt, as if there was a void that could never be filled. You hold each other, your hearts bleeding for the same person. Silent tears will be shed and it hurts. So. So. Much.
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Slim Pickins
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Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
(also contains Phoenix x Rooster)
warnings: cussing, alcohol, idk lmk if i missed any
notes: chat tell me if this is ass pretty please
As you sat in the Hard Deck, you were overwhelmed by Phoenix and Roosters touchiness. Why can't I have that?, you thought. You were a longtime friend of Natasha's, and when she moved out to California for the navy, you came with her. Little did you know you would meet Jake Seresin, Phoenix's hot coworker. He was always so flirty with you, but always went on about how he "wasn't ready to settle down".
As you were hopelessly gazing at the couple, you didn't even notice Jake walking over to you. "Hey darlin', what's the matter with you?" Jake said, his southern drawl making you have sinful thoughts.
"Hey Hangman, didn't see you there. Nothing, I'm just a little bored." You told him, trying to look anywhere but his sea green eyes.
He raised his brows at your response, but started looking you up and down. You felt hot under his gaze, and Jake could tell as he softly smirked at you. "Well, we can't have that. Come over to the darts, you can watch me kick Coyote's ass."
You fought back a smile as Jake softly grasped your wrist and walked you over to the dartboard. Sure enough, Javy was standing there while impatiently tapping his foot. "Took you long enough, Bagman. Thought I would have to play Payback instead of you." Jake chuckled at his friend's comment.
"You wish you were only playing him, at least you'd have a fighting chance." You watched intently as Jake and Javy played, and laughed when Jake won.
"See darlin', told you I was good." Jake said, turning to face you. You smiled back at him,but you noticed his gaze avert over to something else. You looked around trying to find what he was looking at, and saw this gorgeous girl walking up to Jake. She was built like a model, with her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. The skimpy dress she wore fit her perfectly, and you suddenly felt a sour taste in your mouth.
"Um, I'm gonna go get a drink." you said, trying to sound as calm as possible. As you walked over to the bar, your stomach began to churn. Why was he looking at her like that? Are you really that easy to ignore? Is Jake going to bring her home, like he has done with so many other girls, and fuck her?
You tried to keep your composure, but when you looked back towards Jake, him and the blonde were nowhere to be found. A stray tear fell from your eye, but you quickly wiped it away. But not quickly enough it seemed, as a brunette guy who was also at the bar walked up to you.
"What's a pretty girl like you crying in a bar?" the man said, making you turn your attention to him. He was hot, but not Jake level. The light scruff of his beard complimented his face well. "Oh, nothing really. I'm just dramatic."
He chuckled a bit, and sat down next to you. Before you knew it, you guys were in a full blown conversation. As the night winded down, he asked for your number. You panicked for a moment, scared because you still wanted Jake. But what could it hurt? Maybe this could actually go somewhere, maybe this guy could be the one for you. So you handed him your phone, and let him create a contact. "Bye gorgeous." he said after handing your phone back to you, and walking out of the bar.
You looked down at your phone and read his name, Nick. He might not be Jake, but he's good enough. At least you won't be alone anymore.
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aladaylessecondblog · 22 hours
Text
Red Mountain Waffle House pt. 13
Author's Note: Tw for some blood. Jiub is a troll. For those looking for canon Sotha Sil behavior, boy are YOU gonna be disappointed
This one snuck up on me
---------------------------
One week, then two.
Jiub found his Venmo occasionally pinging with small amounts from Sadara, who sent apology notes in each one. Honestly, he didn't blame her, but he wouldn't say no to to the extra money. He turned her room into another grow spot and it was doing okay, but still not to the level that having her there to contribute to rent had.
She hadn't come back, but there hadn't been much for her to come back for. A dresser, a bed. Those handful of receipts from Suran in the trash can he still hadn't emptied.
The Waffle House was doing a little worse for her absence, at least in his opinion.
The new waitress was an ashlander, and icily polite to those with corprus. Maybe they weren't the best people, but their money spent like anyone else's, and he couldn't figure out why all of a sudden NOW Nibani would want to piss them off by instructing new employees to act like this. It had driven off a few of them, or at least he thought so - it was hard to tell some of the ash ghouls apart from one another.
A few of the ash creatures had asked where Sadara was. The new waitress didn't know; neither did Nibani, whose answer was, "She no longer works here."
Jiub kept silent; he sure as hell wasn't talking. Sadara had sent him a Discord message (she'd outright deleted Morrotwitter) asking him to not tell anyone where she was, and he'd kept to it.
She didn't hadn't added any specifics about what exactly had happened on her little trip to Red Mountain. He'd asked a second time and she replied, 'Nothing we're not used to hearing.'
For a few days after that she sent random pictures of gnarly wounds from fighting cliffracers and other wildlife, and then of the scars once she healed up. There were also a few pics of cliffracers being turned on a spit over a fire, and a little 'wish you were here this thing tasted great' message a couple days in row.
Then there started being images of the inside of some cave along the coast near Tel Fyr.
The Fyrs are paying me 200 gold a week for blood and plasma, apparently I'm RH null blood type. it's special or something. and being immune to corprus makes them want it too, so. Not doing too bad.
Sounds great. What's up with the cave?
Oh, it's near Tel Fyr. Easy access. There's some khajiit and argonians here too, cave's big enough to share, so we do.
How do you share a cave?
We just have bedrolls in different areas. I feel like I got the biggest spot because it used to be a slave pen and they don't want to sleep over here ever again. It's not that bad. We've even got pets.
the fuck kind of pets do you have over there? lost scribs?
couple of fat slaughterfish we feed fish and scraps to. One we call Betty White and the other we call Wilson. They try to bite us but honestly they're big enough it's hard for them to move fast enough for it. So they'll mainly just hiss and make noise until they get food.
"Excuse me, cook? Are you paying any attention to the food at all, or are you destroying my eggs on purpose?"
"Your eggs are fine," Jiub replied, tucking his phone away. The customer in question had come in a few times, and was - well, honestly, such a stick in the mud it was fun to tease him. He was very particular about his food, wanted his waffles turn an even number of times...so Jiub always made sure not to do that.
Sotha Sil himself. Not all that impressive, at least not to Jiub. He said he came there because the sound of the blight winds was relaxing, and when he needed relative silence this was a good place to have it.
And his fried eggs were always just slightly runny.
"Here, I'll redo 'em if you want, I was hungry anyway."
He handed a newly finished plate of waffles to the new waitress, who took them to another ashlander in the corner.
"Do you have no pride at all in your work?"
"I'm cooking eggs and waffles for 10 septims an hour, there is no pride in this work," Jiub replied with a shrug.
"You are an insubordinate imp--no. No, I will waste no more time on your shenanigans. This is not what I am here for. Just cook the food." Sotha Sil huffed, and turned back to the laptop in front of him.
It was a far cry from the nigh-emotionless construct Jiub had heard Sotha Sil described as. Something, it seemed, had set the man on edge...he'd asked a couple people if something had happened to set Sotha Sil off what he was usually like. Most people couldn't see such little things, little signs of being potentially angry, or annoyed, or any number of similar things. But due to long experience, Jiub was a master at seeing it.
He'd reached a point in his life where he was looking to get humbled again. His success with Almalexia had made him feel almost bored - if he could off her so easily (however temporarily it lasted), really, how much farther was there to go? Maybe Sotha Sil would be different. Maybe he'd be tougher, somehow...
How little a thing would it take to push him over and make him screech?
He could already hear Sadara's voice chiding him for it. You little troll, you just want your ass kicked, don't you?
Well. Maybe he did.
The waitress went outside to handle the garbage, and so Jiub was the one to deliver the plated food. He glanced down at the laptop, and saw a familiar sight.
A Pokemon battle.
And more importantly...
"Superiorsil? So it's YOU! I should've guessed," Jiub set the food down and went over to clean the stove.
"What do you mean, you should've guessed?" Sotha Sil's voice had turned accusatory.
Jiub turned back, and gave a deep smirk as he extended his hand. "Jiuberjabber. How ya doin'?"
A pause.
A long, uncomfortable pause.
And then, Sotha Sil - master of the monotone, king of the cutting politeness, suzerain of stony looks - leaped over the counter and wrapped both hands around JIub's neck.
Both mer crashed to the ground and despite the pain and increasing lack of oxygen all Jiub could do was laugh.
"You idiot--pathetic--little WORM!" Sotha Sil was snarling, "You broke my perfect record!"
"It's just a game, man," Jiub struggled, trying to get one hand into his back pocket. Still the laughter persisted, even harder because he saw how much it infuriated the mer above him. Or maybe it was due to the choking. "Don't take it so seriously."
He managed to get his trusty box-cutter out, and took a few stabs in the area of his opponent's ribs. Jiub and Sotha Sil wrestled about in this fashion another few minutes, getting the latter's blood all over the floor.
"What happened to the calm magus, huh?" Jiub, still giddy from the lack of air, went on, finally getting to his feet and backing away, box-cutter at the ready. "Oh, wait, you are what the people need you to be, right? I've read the sermons."
"That wasn't IN the sermons you illiterate cretin," Sotha Sil stood, his pristine white robe now utterly ruined. The stab wounds were healed over quickly, and he looked ready to fight--
--and then suddenly bristled, snatched a to-go box, stuffed the food he'd left uneaten into it.
"Come back soon," Jiub, still in the mood to tease, energized by the fight, blew a capricious kiss at the furious mer before him.
Sotha Sil left, muttering under his breath.
Jiub then looked at the ashlander in the corner.
"You gonna tell the Temple about that?"
"Who the fuck would believe me?"
Grumbling, and thinking he was far too sober for this, Jiub moved off to the bathroom to snort some skooma. Nibani would be in within an hour, and he needed the blood cleaned up by then. The waitress, utterly horrified by what she had just witnessed, didn't look like she was going to be staying long enough to do the job.
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randomized-sims23 · 2 days
Text
Aftermath Of The Attack
(small spoilers for yesterday's SAMS episode, also have a follow up fic to the event (could also be considered a followup to this one))
——————————————————————————
Sun was at the house playing with Jack, Dazzle and even Molten had joined in with them, when he heard muffled shouting near the door. Looking up he saw Monty and Solar. Monty was carrying something that he quickly realized was Moon.
As he stood he asked Jack, Dazzle and Molten to go up to their room for a bit, the three agreeing and going up as Sun went to open the door.
“Monty? Solar? Moon, what's going-”
“Ask questions later, move.”
Sun stepped back as Solar and Monty rushed inside to the couch, Sun following.
“Guys what's going on?” He stopped and looked down at Moon.
He was curled up tight, the back of his head lightly smoking and his whole body shaking. Sun could feel a faint wave of negative energy coming off of him.
The feeling made him grip the back of the couch as he asked again.
“What happened to him?”
Solar left to get something cold for Moon's head, leaving Monty to answer.
“I don't know entirely but I heard screamin’ from Parts and Service. I went to check it out ‘n found Nexus holdin’ him down. Threatened to shoot ‘im if he didn't step off and he left. I don't know what the bastard did to ‘im but he nearly broke his circuit board in half. I think the bastard tried to kill ‘im.”
That made something tighten in Sun's stomach. This was twice now that Moon had encountered Nexus, but this is the first time he's actually hurt him so badly.
“Is Earth here? Or Lunar?” He heard Monty ask.
He managed to shake his head no, stuck in his thoughts as he stared down at Moon, shaking horribly like he was freezing.
“Luckily we managed to hold ‘im down long enough to saulder the board together again and had to repair a little in the cylinder thing.” Monty said.
“And he kept screaming “I'm sorry, I'm sorry Johnathan. No idea why though.” Solar mentioned as he came back with a cold cloth.
Sun swallowed hard as he sat down next to the couch.
“Johnathan was one of the few kids that wasn't scared of Moon. He took a liking to the kid. He found out things weren't good in his home and one night he snuck out, followed him home to see what the problem was…whatever happened there Johnathan never came back to the daycare. He never left that house alive again…I don't know if Moon killed him, or someone else did. But it's torn him up ever since. Not as bad as it used to but it still bothers him now and then…”
“So that's why…” Solar muttered to himself..
“His system is cooling down a bit…his battery's pretty low too…”
“S…un…?”
He looked over to Moon, his brother trying to weakly reach for him.
Sun moved to kneel in front of the couch and placed a hand on his shoulder, firm and comforting. He saw now that Moon's eyes were completely dark- had the encounter left him blind too?
Trembling fingers lightly grasped his wrist, the shaking easing a bit when they did.
“S…ta…y…”
Then he completely shut down, body relaxing a little as he did.
Sun sighed, staying for a moment before going to get the portable charger.
“Someone…hurt Moon?”
Sun looked to the door of his bedroom, Molten standing at the frame.
“I thought I asked you to stay with Jack and Dazzle.”
“They are…napping. Who hurt him.”
Sun sighed. “Molten, you can't go after him. As much as we'd like to see someone hand his ass to him, if you tried he'd kill you easy. Not to mention the dragon…we aren't entirely sure where he even is anyway so trying to find him right now would be pointless.”
“But Moon will be fine,” Sun said, more to reassure himself than anyone else. “We'll make sure he's OK, Molten. For now just stay with the others. If they ask just…tell them Moon isn't feeling too good right now, ok? Please?”
Molten was quiet. He made a promise to himself to protect his friends, his family.
“Fine…but will you…tell me…if you find…anything?”
“I don't know. Maybe? That might be more for Moon or Solar to decide though. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it though. For now just go on to your room, alright? Moon will be ok, he just needs to rest for a few days is all.”
Sun left the room, coming downstairs again. Solar had already covered Moon with a blanket, while Monty was trying to explain to Earth, in the best way possible, what had happened.
Telling Lunar would be trickier, to try and not let him get too worked up.
Sun hooked Moon up to the charger and sat by the couch again, watching Moon silently as he charged.
“Next time you meet him, I'll be there. Maybe this time I can protect you from him…”
-end-
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asirensrage · 3 days
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Saudade - Chapter 10
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Rating: Explicit Pairing: Mikey x OC, Hanma x OC, Ran x OC, Mikey x OC x Draken Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Warnings: swearing, violence, threats of violence, murder, smoking, sex, consensual sex between teenagers, alcohol, recreational drug use, mention of trafficking, torture, family neglect, mentions of sexual violence. isekai OC. memory loss. unbeta’d **warnings are not exhaustive** Summary: No one seems to realize she doesn’t belong until she finally runs into her “new” brother, Hanagaki Takemichi. Now, hearing his story, Takara makes the choice to help him and hopefully find her way home, but faking it til you make it only lasts so long when you start losing the memories of the life you had before. As Takemichi becomes the only family she’s ever known, how far will she go to protect him?
notes: Thank you all so much for reading this and for your comments. They mean the world to me. I'm so glad you're enjoying this. Please let me know what you think about this chapter. I'd love to hear your theories about what's going to happen. 😏
also on ao3
fic masterlist - prev chapter
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She doesn’t sleep.
How can she when she has to sort through the shit in her head? She doesn’t regret her choice to threaten Taiju. He nearly killed Takemichi and she’s not prepared to let him die, now or in the future. She’s already planned to do whatever it takes to keep him alive. Accepting Toman’s help would be another shackle around her neck. She’d be subjected to the orders of Mikey and the other leaders…including Kisaki. On her own she would have less protection, but she’d be free to make her own choices. 
She ignores the texts that make her phone buzz and instead buries herself in her blankets. It would be easier if she didn’t give a shit about her brother, but Takemichi is the only one she has. He’s the only one who knows she doesn’t really belong here and that…he’s the only one who actually sees her. She has to protect that. 
🏍️
By the next morning, the bruise on her face is mostly yellow with some splotches of red, but the one on her side where she took the direct hit was a mix of red, dark blues and purple. It is a bit hard to see. It hurts like hell though now. The lack of sleep didn’t help, nor did the call demanding her presence at a meeting she definitely didn’t belong at. She was also warned not to bring her roller blades which felt like a punishment already. 
“What happened to you?” Takemichi cries out the moment he sees her. 
“A funny thing happened on the way to the market…” she says lightly, hoping she could avoid telling him. Considering the order she received to follow her brother to the meeting, it isn’t likely. “I met the Black Dragon giant last night.”
Takemichi drops the cup he’s holding in shock before darting over to her. “Are you alright?! Did he do this?! Was it because of me?”
She winces and steps out of his hold, shoving his hands down so he stops touching her face. “Knock it off. I’m fine. I just had something to tell him.”
“What could you possibly need to tell the leader of the Black Dragons?” he asks, looking at her incredulously. 
“That if he ever touches my family again, I’ll kill him.” 
Her brother’s mouth drops open, staring at her in shock. “What?!”
She ignores him, grabbing something to eat for breakfast. She gets enough to make some for her brother as well. She goes through the motions of cooking, keeping an eye out for their parents. None of them are around, or if they are, they’re avoiding them. It feels weird. Parents should be more invested in her opinion. Or maybe that’s just what she was used to. 
“Takara, tell me you didn’t threaten that monster!”
“Okay, I won’t.”
“Taka!”
“Take!” she quips back. “Hurry up and eat. I gotta go with you to your meeting because of this,” she motions to her face. 
“You’re like five feet tall! He’s ginormous! He could kill you, Takara! He wanted to kill me!”
“Yeah, but you’re the idiot who doesn’t know how to duck.” 
“What?!”
🏍️
They continue to go back and forth, heading to meet the others until Takemichi stops her to admit that she’s not the only one who did something without thinking last night. 
“You told Chifuyu?!”
“I didn’t mean to! It just slipped out and then the next thing I knew, I was saying everything!” 
“And he believed you?”
“Yeah, he said it made sense. That it was like I was two different people at times.” 
She falls silent. It was true. The Takemichi standing before her now is familiar and comfortable. It’s the one who actually feels like her brother. His present self that returns when he leaves back to the future…it doesn’t feel the same. 
“This will be good,” Takemichi says. “Another person on our side! Who can help me.”
The way he says it rankles, digging into an old wound when it sounds like she’s not good enough. She swallows the feeling back, knowing her brother is an idiot and probably didn’t mean the way it sounds. “Sure.” 
“On the inside,” he says quickly as if he realizes he made a mistake. “With Toman.”
She sighs. “I get it, Takemichi.” Takara shoves her hands in her pockets and continues to walk, her brother following quickly behind. “Don’t worry about it.” 
“Are you sure? I really didn’t mean that you can’t help me! I just meant that having someone in the gang who knows the people better than either of us do…”
She tunes him out. This Takemichi doesn’t know that she’s been dragged into a friendship with Draken and Mikey. He doesn’t know that Hanma has hounded her for her attention and that there’s a bet out there to sleep with her. It’s driving in the reminder that she’s alone in this world, that she doesn’t belong here. 
Takara hasn’t made friends outside of being adopted by her brother’s friends. Her parents here have only acknowledged her when she was arrested after trying to save Baji. The only reason she’s not failing school is because it was driven into her as a child that failure was not an option. All she has is Takemichi and the sports she keeps telling herself she’ll join again but she hasn’t because it’s not the same. She doesn’t have anyone telling her she needs to do something. She’s left to her own devices and she’s floundering. 
🏍️
The only ones who don’t look surprised to see her when she shows up at the executive meeting are Mikey and Draken. Hanma stands instantly, gaze darkening as he takes in the bruise on her face but he’s prevented from heading towards her both by Kisaki’s hand on his arm and Mikey calling her forward. 
She straightens her shoulders, ignoring the looks of concern she’s getting from Mitsuya and his vice-captain she knows she’s met before, and the confusion from the others she doesn’t completely recognize. 
Mikey moves forward from where he’s sitting, perched above the rest like a king on his throne. He leans down, face turning as he inspects the damage. “It’s not that bad.”
Draken has his arms crossed, watching them. “Lift up your shirt.”
“Hey!” Takemichi protests. “That’s my sister!”
“Not like that!” he shouts back, sounding annoyed at the accusation. “She’s injured.”
She glares over at Draken but he stares back, unimpressed. She exhales sharply as she lifts up the side of the shirt she’s wearing, trying not to wince at the pain the motion creates. 
Someone swears. 
“Takara!” her brother cries out. “You said you were fine!”
“I am fine!” She jolts to the side when Mikey pokes her bruise. “Ow!” She swipes at his hand, forcing it down instantly. “Stop that!” 
He moves back to his perch. “What happened?” 
“You mean Draken didn’t tell you?”
“I want to hear it from you. Everyone here should.” 
“Your choice will impact ours,” Draken says, reminding her of what’s coming. 
She can practically feel Hanma’s gaze burning into her back. “Fine. I came home yesterday to find my brother beaten to hell. He told me what happened. I…picked up my bat and left, tracking the giant asshole down, which wasn’t hard by the way,” she admits. “I rolled up on him, broke my bat across his head and gave him a warning that if he ever touched my brother again, I’d kill him.” 
There’s a moment of silence as her words are processed. Someone behind her laughs. 
“The bruises are because he managed to hit me once on the side. I crashed into a wall,” she motions to her face. 
“You’re saying you hit Taiju Shiba?” She looks back to see that the one who asked was one of the guys she doesn’t recognize with blond hair. 
“Princess does pack a strong hit,” Hanma grins. “Especially with a weapon.”
“It’s sports equipment,” Takara says. “And yeah, I hit him.” 
“You’re…tiny.”
“No shit.” She turns back to Mikey. “I ran into Draken after. I didn’t know about the rules or anything like that. He told me I gotta choose which direction I want to go in after that.”
“What?” Takemichi interrupts. “What choice?”
She ignores her brother.
“Did you?” Draken asks. 
“Yeah,” Takara nods. It was an easy one when it came down to it. “I’ll remain unaffliated with Toman.”
“You’re sure?” Draken asks, looking between her and Mikey who hasn’t looked away from her. “You know what that means.” 
“Yeah. No protection but it’s fine.”
“It’s fucking stupid!” She rolls her eyes at Hanma’s voice and doesn’t bother to turn to look at him. “Come on, princess!”
“I don’t need your opinion,” she snaps, glancing back at him. 
He scowls darkly. “What? You think the fucking Haitanis are going to protect you?”
“Haitani?” Multiple people ask, a mixture of confusion and accusation. 
“You running with another gang?” the blond one she doesn’t know asks. It sounds more like an accusation. 
“I’m not running with any gang,” Takara says, looking back at him in confusion. “I went to a rink and they found me. They just wanted to talk,” she shrugs. 
“About what?” the blond asks before taking a step towards her.
“Mucho!” Draken snaps. “She’s not a traitor.”
“Can’t betray anything I’m not a part of,” Takara adds. She rocks back on her heels slightly, wishing she was wearing her skates. Despite the confidence she has in her brother having her back, he’s a terrible fighter and she’s starting to feel cornered. 
“Are you sure?” Mikey asks, eyes meeting hers as he ignores the others. He’s steadfast as he waits, exuding confidence as he acts as the leader he is. It’s such a contrast to how she’s seen him when it’s just her and Draken. 
Takara nods. “I thought about the pros and cons last night. I’d rather be free and face the consequences. No offence.”
“None taken. Wait outside.” 
She nods again and leaves, ignoring the stares that watch her go. She can practically feel both Hanma and Takemichi wanting to say something. It’s a miracle her brother doesn’t.   
🏍️
She makes her way outside, sitting down in the dirt and leaning back against one of the walls. Her legs ache like she needs to stretch but the pain of her side and face are enough to ignore it.
Looking back, it was a bad idea to go after the giant. Still, she couldn’t get over her anger that led to her lashing out. Takemichi faced not only death now in the future but incarceration as well. He refused to tell her where she was, only that they weren’t close, and her day earlier with Ran and Rindou had been ruined by Hanma’s arrival. Mainly because of the possessive way he spoke about her to them and the fact that she knew it was only going to get worse if she enacted her plan. 
She leans back and closes her eyes, letting out a sigh. She wants to be back on the ice, a hockey stick in her hand and…and..she wants her family back. Her friends. She wants to not have to worry that her brother is going to die and there’s nothing she can do about it. She wants…to be able to remember what they look like. In detail. She can remember her brothers, her mother and father, but her friends' faces are slipping away. When she thinks of her friends, she only thinks of the people she knows here. 
A lump grows in her throat and she takes a deep breath, swallowing it back. It’s a constant ache that leaves her feeling empty and the worst part is she knows something is missing but she doesn’t know what it is. It’s like the way she likes things now she knows she didn’t before, not who she used to be. 
If she’s losing pieces of herself…what is she left with? Is she anyone except Takemichi’s sister? 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
She jolts in surprise, looking up to see Hanma storming towards her. The grief slips to the back of her mind as she forces herself to her feet to face off. “The fuck do you want?” she snarls back, instantly on guard. She sees the others coming out of the shack they had their meeting in, but they’re all moving slower than Hanma and she doesn’t see her brother yet. 
He moves closer as if he can force her back and corner her. 
She digs her metaphorical feet in and doesn’t back down. He’s not the first to attempt to cow her into submission with his size and he won’t be the last. “What the fuck do you want?” she repeats, slower this time, sharpening her words to a point as she glares up at him. 
“Why didn’t you come to me for help?”
“Why would I?” She asks, almost genuinely curious. “We’re not fucking friends, Hanma, and in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t want you around.”
“I would have helped you, princess,” he says, voice slightly softer than before as he stares down at her. Takara stares back, confused at the insistence and the way he’s looking at her. 
“Fuck off, I don’t need help.”
“Yeah, you made that fucking clear when you refused Toman’s. Why didn’t you ally with us?”
“Why the fuck would I trust you?” She asks, glaring up at him. “You forced a kiss on me the second time we met. You fought against my brother. You want to help me? Suck my dick.”
“Kara-chan. Come.” Mikey calls out, breaking the tension between the two of them. He’s emerged from the shack with Draken at his side and both her brother and Chifuyu following. 
“What am I, a dog?” she mutters before shoving her way past Hanma to join him. She gives him the finger before ignoring him completely as she follows Mikey.
“Takara–”
“We’ll talk later,” she murmurs to Takemichi as he tries to stop her. “Don’t worry.” She smiles at him before heading to meet Mikey at his bike. He climbs on and offers her a hand to get on behind him. He waits until she’s ready, feet on the pegs and arms wrapped around him, before he takes off, leaving everyone else behind.
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croh3 · 11 days
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the hardest part of liking the penumbra podcast is being the second citadel fan first and juno steel fan second
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sugarcoatednightshade · 4 months
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Dungeon Meshi's Theses
if you want to to badass things like explore dungeons, you need to take care of your body.
if you want to be good at your job, fulfill your hobby, spend time with friends, travel, go on hikes, live a long and happy life, etc., you need to take care of your body.
why should you want to live a long life if you have nothing to live for? the nature of living things is to change. so long as you are alive, you and the people and things around you will change. you may think that you have no reason to live, but so long as you are alive you will experience new things you never could have imagined which will give you new reasons to live.
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sadrockandwaltzes · 2 months
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Just some crappy Mikage drawings based on images from the show cause I need practice... I feel like I'm really getting the devianart experience tryna draw him😅😭
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He looks much better in the show I assure you...
[writing on top left says 'Mikage Death Pose' since it looks very simpson death esque; writing for glasses (he looks so cool in his prof outfit) says 'stylish professor turned stylish librarian after pick-up attempt' (cause I accidentally gave him lipstick😅); middle left writing says 'shading fail' and 'dude being shady- not blushy; and bottom writing says 'Gah... She kept me waiting again!']
Favorite's definitely the bottom one
#mikage souji#my art#rgu#revolutionary girl utena#He looks like a sullen teen in the bottom one😁#I know these images aren't great but can you SEE the Scarecrow#like search up photos of this guy and tell me he isn't using his students' anxieties and fear for his sick little manipulation experiments#Oh you can't? Maybe that's because it's FREAKING CANON#Just imagining this guy facing off against The Batman is really funny to me#since I was thinking of RGU as Batman I obviously couldn't help imagining the inverse#where Batman is Utena and Crane is Mikage#but it's a bit harder trying to pin who would be who that way#it's hard enough trying to decide who's which Rogue for Utena...#like what am I supposed to do for Miki -_- only thing coming to mind is Riddler... RIDDLER! Isn't that awful? So back to the drawing board.#but that being said Riddler might be a good Miki in the inverse. Genius who's condescended to for his age; doesn't quite fit with the other#If it wasn't for his personality I'd say maybe Catwoman could replace Miki...#but the inverse's biggest issue is the Rose Bride#if I was doing BTAA specifically Harvey could be the Rose Bride no problem#But I don't know how that would hold up against other iterations of him#and Poison Ivy is a human plant who attracts people but is also very independent and in control#which would be interesting putting her in that role since Anthy is kinda like that on the inside🤔#but then Akio is an issue so it's a whole mess I'm trying to untangle. I've mostly got the Utena ones down#but it'd be nice to get more hard hitters in it that just don't seem to fit like Oswald
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