#wonder how she'd feel about this one then

[pricegouge]

Thinking of nanny!reader x daddy!price once again... You really ate there, damn

[fic]

oh ms. messy... wonder what she's been up to...

"fuckin' call me messy," you grumble under your breath, the pre-wetted wipe in your hands going dry with overuse. emily squirms, her chubby little cheek gone red with the attention.

"not s'ppose'ta say tha'word." face squished in your hand as it is, the accusation comes out too muffled to hold her usual attitude. like this, she's almost cute. or would be, if not for the garish colors still staining her eyelids.

"and you're not supposed to use markers like makeup, but here we are."

she rolls her eyes, the brat, smudgy purple lines fading up into her eyebrows raising with the effort, as if everything in her tiny little body was put into the motion. "wha'ss'a diffr'nce anyway?"

"well for one, makeup comes off with makeup wipes," you snark, tossing another stained towelette into the bin, tie-dye collection starting to overflow. "for another i don't think 'bluetiful' is really your color."

"blue is a primary color," she informs you, apropos of nothing, as if that should explain why she'd tried using it as as a highlighter.

you pause in your endeavor, the bright red 'blush' on her cheek bleeding down the crease of her nose. "that is true," you agree sagely, and then damn near jump out of your skin when a gruff voice behind you asks if she knows her other primaries.

emily lists off a good fourteen colors - far too many from your understanding, though it had been a long time since you were in preschool; maybe they'd added some. you used the time to check yourself out in the bathroom mirror covertly, though you catch him catching you, eyes meeting somewhere around the fourth shade of yellow. "mr. price," you greet him casually, voice too meek in your effort not to interrupt emily's learning.

he doesn't even nod, eyes heavy on you as he lets his daughter prattle off every shade of the crayolla box she'd become overly familiar with. you'd say he's getting worse but he's always been like this - too intense, too direct - and saying as much felt like a jinx, like a dare to the universe at large to make him, impossibly, more driven. "ms. messy," he drawls quietly, the title a low purr as he lets his eyes drag over you. you'd worn shorts today, confident and cheeky in the privacy of your room. he always managed to wrangle that control from you this easily, with barely more than a pointed look that set you back to basics, suddenly remembering the game you're playing. who with.

attempting to save face, you turn back to emily and whisper to her, thick as thieves. "coulda told me he was right behind me. now i look bad, not using this as a teaching opportunity."

emily tells you it's actually your job to know when her dad's home because she's a little shit, but you barely hear it because john takes that opportunity to assure you you don't look bad, doubles down when he sees how flustered he's made you. "emily, doesn't ms. messy look nice?"

and maybe there is a reason you keep coming back for more (other than her hot father and his seemingly bottomless pocket) because she just nods animatedly, sloppy bun you'd piled her hair into bobbing. you start to murmur your thanks, but she ruins the moment just as suddenly as she'd started it, motioning to her colorful face and proudly announcing she'd been trying to look like you.

"oh," you hedge, unsure how you feel about a child thinking drunk drag makeup was the key to stealing your look.

john, thankfully, comes to your rescue. "oh, munchkin. you know ms. messy doesn't need all that to look pretty."

well, maybe 'thankfully' was a strong word. "and neither do you. you're pretty just the way you are," you assert, trying to steer the conversation into something more manageable just as you steer the girl before you back your way, tilting her head so you can get a particularly well saturated bit on her brow.

"prettier than you?" she asks, cheeky, and you roll your eyes much like she had, far too exaggeratedly. let her dad have fun with that bad habit.

"well of course!"

she giggles, turns to face her father as best she can when you've got her whole jaw cupped in your hand. "daddy, am i prettier than ms. messy?"

you don't think he's mean enough to give his kid a complex in the name of flirting with someone half his age, but your breath catches anyway, waiting in anticipation as he lets the moment drag on.

surely your heart's racing because you want him to say no. right?

"now that you mention it, ms. messy sure could use some sprucing up, hm?" you scoff and flick the dirty towelette at him and huff when he catches it easily, palm completely engulfing it without even really trying. he's unbearably smug when he continues, whiskers practically twitching with a barely contained grin. "what do you think, munchkin? a pretty necklace? a bracelet?"

unfortunately, he looks perfectly serious. "maybe a ring?"

if emily responds, you don't hear it, too busy side eyeing him, trying to figure out how serious he is. if you get tipped with a tennis necklace next time you watch his kid, you might just drop out of school.

divider by @/cafekitsune

[bckwardsfrwards]

Can you write more Dr. Phosphorus 🙏 the amount of fics he has is criminal, I think I've read all of them available-

Can do Anon, there's a reason I finally picked up the metaphorical pen and started writin again. Not enough content for the Skeleton Doctor.

GN Reader, no specifications but they are a meta human.

No TW, not beta read, I try to use as little (y/n) as I can, crossposted to my ao3 account!!

Word count: 1k

Sing your song Jailbird

(Doctor Phosphorus x Reader)

Getting yourself thrown into Belle Reve was never in your plans. You hadn't intended for things to go down the way they did but that's all it took. One little slip up left you tossing and turning in a cold dank cell.

You couldn't sleep, but that was most nights. Although you had no actual proof it was nighttime. You hadn't seen the outside world since before your incarceration. The guards had kept you in solitary for the first few days, giving some of the more… Animalistic inmates time to grow accustomed to your scent. Kind of like introducing two cats through a closed door so that they don't try to kill each other. Not that you were too worried about actually getting hurt.

You weren't really introduced to your fellow inmates so much as you were shoved into the open common area. Some douchebag guard yelling your last name as a means of identification before slamming the metal doors shut. You grumbled, more annoyed than anything before dusting yourself off and taking in your surroundings.

There weren't really that many other prisoners. Those that caught your attention being a giant shark man that was pointing and laughing at you. An enormous robot sipping from a can of gasoline. And a green skeleton? Rather a skeleton with a green fiery body.

Most of them turned their attention away from you shortly after glancing your way. But the Skeletal man tilted his head at you seemingly curious before going back to his game of solitaire.

You felt like a kid at a new school during recess. No idea who anyone is or how to talk to them. The decision was made for you as the robot drinking diesel made his way over to you. Each step shaking the floor a little.

"Hello new inmate, you seem to be a little disoriented. Could this be, G. I. Robot wonders, because you are secretly Nazi scum?" The robots arm transforms into a giant canon as he speaks, his red eyes glowing a little brighter.

"Woah! Absolutely not what the fuck?" You ask with a mixture of disbelief and disgust, your hands raised in surrender.

"Relax G.I. I don't think this is really Nazi material do you?" The skeletal man asks looking you up and down skeptically.

"Perhaps you are right, Doctor Friend." The robot apparently called G.I. says. Disarming himself and going back to sipping on his oil.

"Why don't you go check on Nina, I'm sure she'd appreciate the company." The irradiated man says, gently patting the metal giant on the back.

"That is a wonderful idea! I will go and check on Friend Nina and her Bride." The robot says cheerfully. You swear you can see a smile on his face as he walks away.

"Sorry about that, he's uh. Not too keen on Nazis."

"I couldn't tell." You say with an unamused roll of your eyes. "I'd rather there be a Nazi killing robot than a killer Nazi robot though." You murmur with a Huff of laughter.

"Yeah, you got that right." He says with a dry chuckle. "I'm Doctor Phosphorus." The strange man says after a beat of silence, turning his head to face you.

"(Y/n)" You say, reaching your hand out to shake his before glancing at his radioactive flesh. You withdraw slightly unsure if you can or should shake his hand.

"(Y/n… Well it's a pleasure to meet you but I wouldn't recommend shaking my hand unless you want to get radiation sickness." He says with a sigh.

You furrow your brow and before you can stop yourself you shake his hand anyway. Surprised at the heat radiating off of his palm. It's warm like when you hold your hand over a pot of boiling water just to feel the steam. You can hear a subtle buzz, a stream of quiet bubbling coming from his body.

He withdraws his hand first looking at it as if he had been burned, before looking back at you.

"Are you stupid or something?"

"Little bit." You say with a wide grin.

"You can't tell but I'm scowling at you with disapproval." The doctor says with a slight shake of his head.

"Well you're a doctor right? You can just fix me up if I get sick."

"I don't know if you can tell but I haven't exactly been a practicing physician recently." He says as he crosses his arms, looking you over again with a tilt of his head.

"How long has it been?" You ask, your brow raised in question.

The doctor sighs, "15 years give or take?"

"Goddamn. Guess I'm never getting out of here huh?" You ask with a dry chuckle.

"You ask a lotta questions (Y/n)."

"Who's Nina?" You question, despite the Doctors complaint.

He chuckles slightly before answering, "She's another inmate here, got hurt on a mission a little while ago. She's in the Med bay with Bride. Which is where you'll end up if you hang around me long enough." He says somewhat dejected.

You laugh lightly not taking his words too seriously. "Who's Bride?"

"Your leader on the field if you ever get picked for a mission." He says as he walks back over to his game of solitaire.

You follow after him with a skip in your step. You were already warming up to this guy even if he wasn't 100% sure about you. He takes a seat and glances obviously at the chair beside him, silently asking if you're going to take it.

You sit down and fold your hands in your lap, twiddling your thumbs. You expect him to keep playing his game of solitaire but you're surprised as he shuffles the cards carefully. You wonder how he isn't burning them.

"You know how to play go fish?" He asks as he starts dealing the cards between the two of you. Not bothering to wait for a response.

"Yeah, it's been a while though." You say, glancing from his hands to his face and back.

"That's just fine with me Jailbird." He says as he picks up his cards, rearranging his decks order.

You smile at him with a little mirth in your eyes. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

I'll write a part 2 if anyone really likes this! cheesey little ending but i figure its better to leave it open ended :) It's just the basic reader is an inmate in Belle Reve au. Although I am including Nina surviving and being nursed back to health while Bride watches over her.

[sterifels-blog]

warnings ⚠️

•nsfw! 🔞 please do not interact if you are not 18+ ❤️ you are not my responsibility.

creepypasta

REQUESTED: how they'd react if you ask them what their favorite (body) part of you is.

bloody painter

•he would say your hands. he's intrigued by your fingers, as odd as it may seem. not so much the looks of them; but instead the power they wield. "you have such delicate hands for someone so strong... makes me wonder what they could do if they weren't holding a brush." the implication is there— and, it's more of an invitation then a question. he knows what you're capable of- but he thinks he's being smooth about the fact he wants your hand wrapped around his cock.

•soft, but possessive touches: he'll hold your hand in his and trace the lines of your palm with his thumb, enjoying the way your skin feels against his rougher hand. he's not always filthy- infact, he washes his hands more that you're around. he knows you can't stand the feeling of blood smearing all over yours off of his.

•places gentle kisses on your knuckles. he'll press a kiss to your knuckles after you've done something for him, silently showing gratitude in his own way. alternatively; as he's bumping his hips to snap his pelvis tight against your own— more-so panting onto your fingers as he holds them to his parted lips. he's grunting at how good you feel, his brows tight-- and knitted together while placing soft kisses to your fingertips. bro loves you.

•admiring the art of your hands: if you paint (hopefully, with normal supplies), he'll watch you carefully, entranced by the way your fingers move across the canvas. "i like how you create... i like how you touch things."

•okay brother. calm down.

•handcuff scenario: if he's feeling possessive, he might tie your hands just to keep you close, though it's always with a Iight touch, as if savoring the moment. it's that, or he's got you in his lap- your back pressed to his chest as one of his hands keeps your wrists pulled together, and the other is brushing hair out of the way so he can kiss your neck.

•earning affection: "i know these hands could do so much more, if i let you." a quiet invitation to explore.

clockwork

•she'd say your eyes. clockwork has a dark fascination with them, and she isnt shy about making that clear: "your eyes... they've seen more than i can imagine, and yet they still hold something innocent about them." she has no issue with tainting that innocence- although she chooses to cherish it for herself, opting to keep your mind safe and away from others. your eyes only on her.

•intense gaze: she'll lock her eyes on yours, not breaking contact, as if studying you. it's like she's searching for something deep within, and it makes you feel exposed, yet strangely desired. she'll be kissing from your sternum down to your pelvis, her nails dragging along your bare sides as she relishes in the feeling of your fluttering skin against her lips.

•her lip gloss paints your stomach in a shimmery raspberry hue as she kisses your skin, her thumbs digging into your hips as they massage in slow circles.

•she's huge on teasing: "i could lose myself in them, but you'd never let me. you'd just pull away, wouldn't you?" she won't give you much of an option to pull away. she'll have you on your knees in front of her, her hand cupped under your chin as she admires the tremble of excitement that rushes down your spine.

•gentle, longing touches. she gently cups your face, forcing you to keep eye contact "i could make you see things- things you don't want to. but... you trust me, don't you?"

•when you inevitably agree with her— saying that you do trust her, her hands are parting your thighs, shamelessly sighing as her tongue traces lazy drags against your clit and labia. (she's definitely the type to write her name with her tongue, over and over until you're whining for her to do something other than tease. you're not talking at all after that)

•behind-the-scenes power: "if you look away, i'Il only make it worse. keep looking... you're mine, aren't you?"

eyeless jack

•thoughtful to say your throat. jack has an intense interest with your neck/throat. he can't stop staring at your throat, where he knows your pulse beats, so close to the surface- so easy to cut off if he so much as squeezed you hard enough. if he so much as twisted your head quick enough to cause dissection. not that he ever would- no, no. such horrific things are only reserved for his victims- but his medical knowledge often gets the better of him when intimate with your body.

•gentle but dangerous touch. he'll graze his fingers lightly along the curve of your throat, his thumb brushing the side of your neck as though testing your response. he'll hum— his nail digging softly into the prominent vein on the side of your neck, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against it as though smelling the metallic flow from the outer-shell of your skin. he doesn’t say anything, but the way his hand squeezes is word enough. jack loves you, he's made it clear over and over again- but often, he still finds it necessary to remind you that you both are different. un-alike.

•dangerous affection: "i know the veins here so well... it's almost like could just.." he might trail his fingers over your throat, his mind going to darker places as he tightens the grip he has on you to just beneath your chin, tilting your head back with a little groan into your ear. he brushes your baby hairs away from the base of your neck, leaning in to place a kiss against the base of your skull, panting with hearty breaths whilst his hips rut slow, sloppy grinds against the cheeks of your ass.

•alternatively, he’s got your legs kicked apart, his own feet placed between yours as to ensure that you don't try and squeeze them shut. pinned to him, your back against his chest— jack doesn't let you loose as his fingers swirled wide circles around your clit. his teeth graze at your ear, murmuring quietly about how easy you were for him. predictable. and you were.

•teasing whispers: he'll lean close to your ear and murmur, "your pulse is fast... what's got you worked up? it's just me.."

•holds your throat while he's fucking into you from behind.

hoodie

•your ass. zero shame, zero hesitation: hoodie doesn't even try to hide it, "you've got the best ass i've ever seen. why wouldn't i look? you should be flattered."

•he's hands-on at all times. whenever you walk past him, his hand is right there. sometimes, he gives it a playful squeeze, other times a sharp smack that makes you jump. "what? you're the one who walked by me like that."

•you, in fact, didn't even walk by. he's the one who walked by you. too many times, will you give him silence in return for his tomassery– and each time, he does the same thing. he'll come up behind you, apologetically (🤥) sliding his hands down your waist to cup your ass as he presses a kiss to the back of your neck. "you know i'm just teasing.."

•favorite pose? you straddling his lap. he loves when you sit on him, especially facing away so he can rest his hands on your hips— or further down. "you're making it really hard to focus, you know. not that i'm complaining.."

•and he isn't complaining, especially when he’s able to bend you over the counter later that night, groaning and grunting as he 'thanks' you for the meal you'd cooked for him after a long mission assigned by the operator. he's tired, sure; but he always has some extra stamina stored away for times like this. seeing your ass bounce on his hips as his dick bullies against your g-spot is worth every bit of energy he has left.

•constant touching: if you're lying on your stomach, he's lying next to you, his hand lazily draped over your lower back and sliding lower.

•pulling you closer: if you're standing in front of him, he'll wrap an arm around your waist and pull you back against him, hands wandering. "c'mere. you're too far away. yeah, that's better."

jason the toymaker

•your hands

•craftsman’s admiration: “your hands... so delicate, yet so full of life. they could create so much beauty... if i allowed you.” his voice carries both fascination and a subtle possessiveness, enjoying how wrapped around his fingers you were. the innuendo is there, integrated in his words. why would you need to touch yourself when he was there to do all you wished for you?

•very gentle with his touches. he loves to take your hands in his, running his fingers over the smooth skin, almost as if memorizing every line and curve. the type of guy to intertwine your fingers with his own as he keeps your wrists pinned to the bed— huffing against your neck with steady, deep thrusts. loves kissing behind your ear, grumbling about how good you take him- make him feel.

•kisses to your palms. jason has a habit of turning your hand over and pressing slow, deliberate kisses to your palm. “such beautiful hands… wasted on anything but me.” definitely prompts you into giving him a hand job, obsessive over the way your fingers feel curled around him. he thoroughly can't get enough of you, and arm wrapped lazily around your waist as he sits you in his lap for a slow makeout.

•mild.. obsession: he’ll watch you when you’re doing anything with your hands—writing, sketching, even cooking. “it’s mesmerizing, really. i could watch you all day.”

•into playful (but freaky ass) control. jason likes to guide your hands when you’re working on something, his larger hands enveloping yours. “here, let me show you how to do it properly. not that you’re bad at it… i'm just better.” this applies to the bedroom, where he's guiding your hand; curling your fingers only when he allows you to.

•possessive comments: “these hands belong to me, no? no one else gets to feel them, hold them, or be touched by them.”

jeff the killer

•dangerous attraction to your thighs: "your thighs... they look so soft. i bet they'd feel even better wrapped around me." and they do— whether they are clung at the sides of his head, or straddling his hips as he helps you ride him after a particularly high stress day. he loves them more than anything else in the world.

•gentle possessiveness.. he'll casually run his hands over your thighs, his fingers lingering just a little too long as if marking territory. does it especially when you are all sitting in a group. if given the opportunity, he'll have you tucked between him and the arm of the couch, your legs slung over his own so his hand can rub up and down yours.

•plenty of flirtatious teasing: "how tight do you think those legs could squeeze, huh? show me, and i'II make it worth your while."

•when you go about showing him- he makes it a point to keep you at his disposal until you're too satisfied to complain about anything. his tongue is useful for talking— but it is just as skillful when it's dipped between your thighs, running between your folds until you're squeezing his head so tight, he was sure his skull would crack.

•loves giving you kisses to the inner thigh. on a whim, he might press a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, just to feel the warmth of your skin. after a particularly strenuous night of.. events, it's a subtle gesture of appreciation

•"i can't help it. your thighs are just... perfect. i think i could spend all day here, don't you?"

•mock care: if he's feeling particularly mischievous, he'll gently squeeze them and say, "relax. i'Il be gentle. for now."

jane the killer

•playfully seductive: "these hips of yours.. i could write a book about how perfect they are." she smirks as her hands glide along them, leaving goosebumps in her wake. by far, they are the most favorable thing on your body in her eyes- apart from the obvious sentiment of your breasts. she thinks the proportions of them match you perfectly.

•possessive hold. jane has a habit of gripping your hips firmly, puling you closer until there's no space between you- mainly around the others of the household. there is no denying that you're hers- but it is still in her nature to be competitive over that fact, especially with her other-sex counterpart being present. "you feel so good against me. don't think i'Il let go anytime soon."

•slow in admiration. her fingers trace the curve of your hips, almost reverently. "every inch of you is stunning, but this.. this drives me insane." you're hovered over her- sweat dripping down your spine and dampening the roots of your hair as her hands guide you in a rocking motion. they are clasped tightly to your hips, nails, digging into your flesh as she encourages you to tuck in your core. she doesn't mind doing the messy work of bouncing you on her strap, so long as numbs you into that blissful state.

•dually stimulates your clit just to see them buck.

•sultry whispers while standing behind you. she'll lean in, lips brushing against your ear as her sleek nails tickled your hips with repetitive strokes. "these hips were made for my hands, don’t you think? hm?"

•when things heat up, her focus always finds its way to your hips, her kisses trailing along the curves as her grip tightens. "you have no idea what you do to me." jane's eyes linger on your hips like they're the most captivating thing in the world.

kagekao

•your mouth and messy kisses. kagekao loves kissing you- rough, messy, and without warning. he thrives on the way he can leave you breathless and completely flustered. it comes of good use when you two are arguing. you'd been rambling about something- not that he was listening; but he captured the gist of you bitching about how he was leaving the house a mess. guilty— of course he was; but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. "can't talk now, can you?"

•shutting you up: secondary to a kiss, if you're rambling or talking back, he'll cut you off with a hand against your mouth; putting you into momentary silence. it is only when his hand moves to tug at the buckle of his belt do you understand where he is truly going with it. your mouth, around him- is as good as it is while talking. as skillful as your insults- just more quiet apart from the occasional gag to fuel his ego.

•playfully dominant. he's a master of teasing you into silence, brushing his thumb over your lips and smirking. "these lips of yours are dangerous... but i like the way they feel under mine." he's cheesy because he knows it gets you going. you'll cuss him out, commencing a back-and-forth between the two of you. and as much as he enjoys shutting you up— it is, unfortunately, your 'arguments' that get him swollen and tight in his slacks.

•messy control: if you're mid-argument, he'll pin you against a wall and kiss you hard enough to stop the words from coming. "i don't care what you were going to say." he's a bit of an asshole— and when it comes to an actual confliction, you're often pushing him away as to voice your opinion.

•obsession with your voice: he's addicted to the way your lips move when you talk (+ the sound of it), and he often stares shamelessly. "keep talking- let me watch those pretty lips of yours."

•if it's been a while since he's last seen you; and you have the chance to speak to him over the phone, he's 100% not opposed to rubbing one out with you on the line. he'll go silent, listening to you ramble on about something that seems insignificant compared to the raging throb of his erection. mindlessly hums in agreement to something he shouldn't have— and gets startled when you begin scolding him over the phone.

laughing jack

•jack has a shameless fixation on your legs, especially if you're blessed with some extra height. "your legs just go on forever, don't they? makes me want to see how far they can wrap around me." his words are said with a wicked grin, no shame in his tone. if you're smaller, no worries about it— he's still intrigued about how many positions he can wrangle you into, especially with your smaller size being an accommodation.

•loves, loves, loves having you up against the wall. it's not the most practical position- but he has the strength to pull it off. at no point in time will your feet be touching the ground. your legs are slung over his hips, and mercilessly, jack is giving you no time between breaths as he fucks in and out of you. he'd been worked up over a dress you'd worn out with jane; the gap of time from which you returned— to then being railed furiously almost nonexistent.

•the stupid cunt is constant teasing: he'll comment on how your legs look in any outfit especially if they're bare. "oh, you're just showing them off today, aren't you? that's just cruel." he especially loves seeing you in skirts or short dresses. a tight pair of pants will still do justice- outlining your figure, but seeing your skin is an entirely different experience for him.

•obsessive attention. runs his hands along your thighs and calves, almost like he's worshiping them, while making playful, almost mocking comments. "so soft.. are you sure you're strong enough to be here?" he knows you are, he has no sincere doubts that you've earned your place amongst the bunch; but it intrigues him how someone as hard working as yourself could have any aspect of a gentle physic leftover.

•payful biting: he'll nip at your legs from your calvee to your thighs, just to watch you squirm. "what? can't handle a little attention?"

•restless fascination: loves having his head in your lap, running his hands up and down your legs, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "how am i supposed to behave with these perfect legs right in front of me?"

•a good smack to the head will do it.

masky

•masky has an obvious fixation on your breasts. he won't even try to hide it. when you're in close quarters, his eyes are always drawn to your chest, and he'll casually glance at them before meeting your eyes, smirking. "could you be any less distracting?"

•shameless touching: he's the type to casually rest his hand on your chest when in private, grinning like it's the most natural thing in the world. if you're not paying attention, he'll give them a slight squeeze and say, "couldn't resist, sorry." which, is a lie. he's fully capable of resisting- but with you, he doesn't care much to.

•throughly enjoys having you ride him. if not only to see the way your face twists up in pleasure; then, to see the way your breasts bounce with each desperate thrust you chase after.

•loves seeing you in workout clothes— especially something like a workout bra that cups your breasts exceptionally. he'll come up behind you, hands wandering from your sides, and against your ribs to your breasts, his fingers fondling with the under-band of your bra appreciatively. places soft kisses on the back of your neck, humming in approval as he relishes in the sight of his palms engulfing your chest in the gym mirror.

•unapologetic flirting: "look real fucking good in that top. deserve some attention, don't you think?" he'll lean in close, just to make it clear that he's very aware of what he's doing- not that you had any doubts.

•although secondary pleasure wasn't normally accommodated on his schedule (nor does he have a high drive for it)– when you gave him a tit job for the first time; he swore he was knocking on heavens door. he could hardly keep himself from giving in too early- grunting and huffing as he dragged on his cigarette, prolonging his climax for as long as he could. cusses the entire time, groaning about how good you were.

•proximity: when he sleeps, he'll have his face tucked against your collarbone, his arms wrapped around you as his nose divets to your sternum.

slenderman

•control obsession: he’s drawn to your wrists, knowing just how delicate they are and how easily he can take control. he loves— and definitely gets off on the feeling of holding them tightly, guiding you however he sees fit. “your wrists are so fragile... better reason for you to listen"

•possessive in his grip. slenderman will sometimes just stand behind you, his long fingers brushing your wrists in a possessive, almost ritualistic manner, ensuring you feel his presence without him saying a word. he might even trace your veins as if marking them as his own— otherwise, silently reminding you of your merciless place beneath him.

•soft yet firm restraint. if you’re not paying attention, he’ll slip his tendril around your wrists with a cold, firm grip, keeping you in place. his touch is both controlling and almost comforting, as if trying to stake a claim over you that is inevitable. keeps you from moving too much, because it “makes it easier to work with you.”

•tying you up: there’s something about restraining you with ropes or simple threads that bores him. he's more into using his tentacles— wrapping them around your wrists slowly, ensuring it’s just tight enough to restrict movement. it’s a methodical and precise act. “you’ll stay still. you can handle this, can you not?"

•borderline sadistic during intercourse with you. overstimulation is a guarantee— his tentacles cuffing your wrists together as you squirm on the silk of his bedding. relentless. your breaths heave in desperation as his thumb circled your clit for what felt like hellish hours on end, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes that he brushes away with little care- only after they'd began to trail down your cheeks.

•fingers that linger: when he’s guiding you through a task, his fingers press against the soft skin of your wrist, sending shivers up your spine. it’s a constant reminder of his dominance and the way he can bend you to his will with little effort. sits you between his legs and has you ride his fingers, kissing the flat surface of your inner wrist.

•silent manipulation: whether you’re walking or sitting, his hands will often find their way to your wrists. the way his fingers curl around them feels almost hypnotic, leaving you unsure if it’s affection or an underlying threat.

ticci toby

•possessive grip: toby's hands will find their way to your chest, casually gripping them as if it's the most casual thing in the world. he's not gentle, but not rough either— just firm enough to feel like he's marking his territory. "i like having you close. ganz in der nähe" the words may seem innocent enough, but they are the furthest thing from it.

•soft, but intense. if you're in his arms, he'll keep you pressed against him, his hands roaming under your clothes to gently feel and play with you. his breaths hitch as he does, clearly enjoying the closeness more than anything. not being able to feel much- it's intriguing for him to see how you react to something he assumed would feel so insignificant.

•when he figured out you enjoy it- quite a bit, he'll find himself stroking your ribs more often, tracing over your collarbone.

•huffs of approval: when he feels the soft weight of your breasts in his hands, you'll hear him let out a pleased sigh, followed by a low chuckle. "you can't help making these noises when i touch you, hm?" he enjoys them, thoroughly. in fact, it's something he favors, doing whatever he can to pry the sweet sounds from your lips.

•missionary— classical. he's got your back pinned to the bed, one arm wrapped around your spine as he lay a series of open-mouthed kisses to your throat, trailing down to find one of the pebbled nipples of your breasts. the sound of your breathy moan is almost enough to make him brick up again, a low groan leaving his throat as his lips engulfed your tit with gluttony. he could worship you like this for hours- but not without his own share of enjoyment.

•light teasing: if you react to him touching you, even just a little, his grin widens. "i know you like it. you don't need to hide it." he'll lean in close, letting his breath ghost over your neck. there's nothing he enjoys more than getting a reaction out of you— and it severely agitates him when you silence yourself.

•insecure softness: as unhinged as he may seem, he can get a little soft about it, too. "i just... i need you close, okay? don't push me away." he's not one to beg, but there's something desperate in his voice when he holds you like this. loves having you against his chest, feeling your bare skin pressed against his own.

[electricneonvalkyrie]

I think it's worth noting that when we sleep facing someone, it often indicates emotional closeness and trust.

I'm not sure if it was intentional to have Manny next to Abby here, but it makes sense when you consider their overall connection.

Abby's decision to stay in the library while Manny has a guest over is intriguing to me.

It feels like such a layered choice.

Abby is highly regarded within the WLF. Interactions in The Stadium and FOB demonstrate this. Although she values deep connections over superficial ones, and maintains a close-knit inner circle, Abby is clearly loved by many.

If she needed a comfortable couch to crash on, or a more secure and private place to stay than the library, she'd absolutely have that option.

Here's why I think she picked the library:

🌙She’s suffering from continual, intense nightmares that border on night terrors.

From personal experience, I believe Abby is likely feeling shame and embarrassment about this. Early in the game, while in the Jackson lodge, Abby asks Owen if she’d been sleep talking. It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but it clearly bothers her.

My suspicion is that she's only comfortable sleeping alone, or near Manny, her trusted friend and roommate, and avoids the proximity of anyone else while she navigates this crippling experience.

🌙It might be emotionally overwhelming for Abby to ask to stay with someone, even a close friend. Despite their willingness to help and spend time with her, she probably doesn't want to be a burden. She likely wants to avoid awkwardness and imposition, and the library offers a safe emotional distance from others.

🌙Abby's exhaustion is palpable; the effort of social interactions probably feels monumental as she struggles to balance her responsibilities with her deteriorating mental health.

🌙For Abby, solitude is a sanctuary, a place where she can escape the noise and replenish her frazzled mental and physical state.

The quiet allows her to recharge. Her agonizing, slow rise from the makeshift bed in the library, accompanied by her pained groans, shows just how far she is pushing herself. How far Isaac is pushing her. It's heartbreaking to see her taken advantage of by her leader, a situation perpetuated by her attempts to escape her own thoughts.

🌙The library might represent a sense of normalcy amidst the violence and chaos.

The books and literature surrounding Abby likely offer significant sensory comfort, perhaps even evoking positive memories of her father and the stability he provided amidst her turbulent childhood.

Because truthfully, being a Firefly was no walk in the park either. I'd be pretty engrossed in any stories written about their time in The Fireflies, as I'm sure there's trauma attached there as well.

🌙I wonder if to some degree, isolating herself from others acts as a self-imposed penance, keeping herself at arm’s length from her friends.

The crushing weight of her Jackson decisions, the relentless, gnawing pursuit of revenge, and her suffocating isolation all point to a subconscious battle, perhaps a silent, self-inflicted form of punishment in a sense.

Which makes me super sad for Abby, because as someone who also lives with PTSD and nightmares/night terrors, I fundamentally understand how painful this can be at times.

I think her friendship with Manny is unique and their dynamic is incredibly well written. When she loses him, it's devastating... although as players, we don't necessarily get to see the depth of it.

I wouldn't be surprised if Abby and Lev spent many nights by the campfire rehashing old memories as she moves through her grief.

[merriepy]

DATING ACHERON!

•. Acheron x gn! Reader

tags: headcanon, fluff (+ small angst)

cw: /

summary: A few headcanons about what your relationship with Acheron would look like!

a/n: I'm currently experimenting with new layouts/formats so please don't mind the new look! No third person pronouns used for the reader

•. Acheron, an introverted and forgetful Galaxy Ranger who walks the cosmos on the path of Nihility. As her track intertwined with yours, she developed feelings long forgotten and buried - together with her distant memories of home.

•. Dating someone like Acheron would be quite an interesting experience. She's not your average romantic lover who showers you with kisses, but rather with hugs and gifts! Since she travels the cosmos a lot she knows that seeing you might be hard, since some destinations are too dangerous for you, or maybe you're not as nomadic and her and want to stay in one place. Acheron would 100% bring you little souvenirs that always align with your taste - whether it's new clothes that are rising in popularity on the planet she was just at or a little plushie of the regional animals. As for touches, I think she's someone who's just really casual about pda as in always holding your arm or waist, or leaning against you when she's exhausted. She loves to do that, her chin either resting on your shoulder or head depending on your height.

•. And of course, since she likes to spoil you, you'd do the same!! You'd always make sure to have peaches at home since it's her favourite food. When Acheron is actually home or you two get to rest during your travels, you'd always make sure to prepare peaches for her alongside breakfast to make her happy!

•. In return, Acheron would totally remember your favourite food and where to get the right ingredients for it. She even tried very hard to remember the way to your favourite takeout place, though she still gets lost from time to time. The embarrassment in her voice when she calls you, asking for you to pick her up and admitting that she wanted to treat you to a nice meal but doesn't know the way back home always makes you chuckle.

•. Acheron thinks a lot about your first meeting. She knows how she seems to others: cold, distant, maybe even dangerous. But you approached her, and gave her a chance. She would've never guessed you that two would become more than friends, and neither did you. But even after your first meeting where you two exchanged numbers you kept checking up on her, asking how she was doing, and offered so many times to be there for her if she needed someone to talk to. Of course, Acheron's struggles are far greater than that of average people and she was never completely honest with you about her backstory. She still isn't honest but how are you supposed to bring up something like her story? She just hopes you'll never hold it against her if you do figure it out eventually.

•. One thing she did tell you though was her actual name. You never wondered about it, if Acheron was her actual name or just a coverup. Even after she told you about it you felt weird to not call her Acheron anymore but rather Mei. You got around to it eventually and kept giving her nicknames like Mei-Mei, something she reacted very casually to.

•. I think domestic life with Acheron is chaotic. She isn't used to settling down anymore, not even for a short time. She'd also lose her belongings everywhere in the house because she forgot where she had put them. Cooking isn't one of her strengths as well but she's very willing to learn and she's actually able to become a great cook with enough practice!

•. She's really encouraging and always makes sure to tell you about how great you're doing and that she's proud of you. I think your relationship includes a lot of encouraging and praising from both sides (as it should be!).

•. Something you like to do that Acheron isn't aware of is to keep track of her make-up. She always carries it with her which sometimes leads to the makeup being damaged, so you like to replace or fix it, depending on the damage. She isn't aware that you're the one who replaces it: she thinks she did it herself but forgot.

•. Nights with her are beautiful, though not easy. She likes to get lost in your touch as the soft starlight illuminates the room, but her dreams are usually filled with terror - dreams of those who succumbed to her blade and of those who she couldn't save. Being with you doesn't get rid of the nightmares, as much as she would like to, but the comfort you give her is enough to calm down after the night has felt especially long.

•.Acheron, an introverted and forgetful Galaxy Ranger who walks the cosmos on the path of Nihility. As her track intertwined with yours, she developed feelings long forgotten and buried - together with her distant memories of home. But when she's with you, her heart feels lighter, the pain easier, and maybe - soon - she'll be able to heal under your grace before going on her last journey.•

[ashen-char]

we can be pirates

ship: river (all souls) x reader (gender neutral)

summary: river wants to give her daughter the best birthday party possible. noticing that it's personal for her, you help.

word count: 2400+

notes: requested here. split into two parts bc it surprised me how long it was getting. title from taylor swift's 'seven'. TELL ME THE SKULLS DONT GIVE PIRATE VIBES

River sits on the couch you two hauled off the road just last summer, flipping through the pages of a worn-out book on crafts. Beside her sits her mini-me, her daughter Jade who always loves being dressed up just like her mama. Big brown eyes go wide with excitement as the little girl points at one of the pictures.

"Mama, we can make this for my party," she exclaims, her small finger tracing the outline of a paper flower.

River hums, a tight smile on her face. "Yeah, baby. It doesn't look too hard. That'll be great."

Jade giggles and marks down the page number, already a small list of ideas on her pad of paper, her legs swinging.

Despite her smile, River can't help but think of how she wants more for her little girl. How she hates that Jade already knows they have to cut costs like this. Maybe if she pushed down her ego that told her she can do it all alone, without a cent of Silas' dirty money. River shakes her head, willing those thoughts out. She focuses on the pride blooming in her chest that Jade's still so happy and content with homemade efforts. She's raised a smart, kind, and wonderful girl. God, she can't even believe her baby's turning six in a week.

"You wanna help me?" she asks, poking Jade's cheek, who has now moved on to the section about invitation cards.

"Of course!"

This is when you walk in, joining them on the couch. You were busy preparing dinner so you didn't catch the full conversation, but the apartment's small enough where you could catch bits and pieces even without eavesdropping. Before you have a chance to tell them the food's ready, Jade shoves the book in your hands.

"You can pick one! I like this and this and-" Jade's pointing all over the place, choosing invitation cards she likes the look of seemingly by random if you didn't know her well. Luckily, you've had the chance to. Under River's upbringing and her own endless curiosity, Jade loves so many things it's hard to think of one straightforward theme. She loves her monster trucks as much as her stuffed puppy, as much as the manga the older kids in the apartment complex show her, as much as nature and princesses and scary stories.

"Woah, woah, slow your roll, kiddo." You wipe your hands on the apron before putting your hands on the book, knowing you'd get glares if you greased it up. "What's this about a party? I thought you didn't want to do a big one," you question.

"She doesn't. Says she'd be alright if it was just the three of us sharing pizzas and watching TV," River answers, to which Jade nods. "But Jade's in school now, you know? All the other moms already side-eye me for having her so young. I don't wanna give them more ammo, or make them tell their kids not to hang out with Jade anymore."

River has complained to you extensively before about the mom politics going on. Invite someone's kid to a party and they don't invite your kid back? Consider yourself dead to everyone. Couldn't bring muffins to their stupid bake sale? Worst mom ever award.

"I want Jade to have fun with her friends and not worry about being teased about not having a huge unicorn cake, or whatever. So..." River gestures to the book pressed into your hands, and you note all the marked pages of ideas.

You know the deeper reason too. How deep down, River wants better for Jade than what she had, never wants her to feel like she's going without. She wants Jade to feel like the other kids. To be able to stay a kid for longer, not cutting back on the toys she asks for just because you two are going from paycheck to paycheck. That's your responsibility as the adults. She shouldn't have to worry, shouldn't be punished for being born River's kid. It's something you've assured River about over and over again, that Jade's lucky to be hers and that the little girl knows it. But you can understand that wish too. Jade's such a sweetie. If any kid deserves to feel special on their birthday and get everything they ask for, it's her.

So it's no surprise that River isn't sold on the whole DIY party vibe. Resourceful is one thing, but she hates feeling cheap. Hates asking for or needing cash. She'll let go of her pride if the situation gets tough, but damn does she hate when people assume she can't take care of her girl.

"Hey, Jadey?" you ask, scooching down to address her directly. The two of you have agreed to not talk about money problems in front of her, so you know she should be far away for this discussion. "Can you go to the kitchen and turn the stove off? And when you're done, how about you write down all your friends' names that you want there, and draw them all a special invitation?"

Jade perks up at the request, liking to go on 'special missions' to help you or River. She likes the responsibility, likes that her favourite people can rely on her. It's part of what makes her such a good kid. "OK! Here!" As she hops off of the couch, she hands you the book. "They're gonna be the best pictures ever!"

"Don't come back too soon, OK? We're gonna come up with lots of ideas to surprise you!" you call out.

You turn to River, who shoves the book aside, frustrated. "Fuck. I don't wanna be a wimp about this, honestly. Or make it all about me."

"Hey." Your hand goes to her shoulder, rubbing right where she always seems to get tense. "It's fine. It's your first time living too. Or whatever the phrase is."

"It's just- I would've done anything as a kid to have had a birthday party," she shares, shaking her head like she thinks she's being ridiculous. But River does melt into your touch, letting you start to rub up, getting to the junction where her neck meets her shoulder. "This sucks to say, but I was always too ashamed to take any of my friends back home. I'm grateful for it now, but it was tiny and it smelled and I knew it. Didn't want them to give me shit for it."

Listening intently, your fingers trail over her shoulders as River sits up and tugs her knees to her chest. "And I didn't wanna hassle my mom. She was already doing so much to take care of me and put food on the table," River tells you. "My friends invited me to ones with the fancy custom cakes and the goody bags filled with toys and snacks, you know? The parties where the kids get to wear crowns and the parents take a million photos. My mom couldn't afford to take a day off of work, and I didn't have enough allowance to buy a gift anyways. So I never went to any."

And you can understand that. It's not like being a loner is always a choice. Sometimes you know that even if you try your best, you won't fit in, so why try? Pretend it's a choice. Pretend you're above it all, too cool for it, when all you really want to do is have fun with everyone.

"She's turning six. We could turn a sprinkler on and call it a water park and the kids would scream and laugh more than at some expensive party," you say. They're easy to impress at that age, at least in your own memory of being a kid.

River shakes her head. She wraps her arms around her knees tighter, resting her chin on them. "A water park? Really? She's six. She wants a real party with her friends, not just an excuse to run around like crazy. And it's not like we have a backyard for them to run in anyways." Something in her throat trembles, and it makes her voice rise with frustration. "I want to give her something special, y'know? I want her to feel like a princess for a day, not a charity case. Throwing around some paper decorations isn't gonna make the apartment bigger."

You know that tone, and you want Jade to have the very best too, so you fix on a more serious face, not wanting your girlfriend to feel like she's alone in this. "Fine. OK, so what's... special but free? Botanical gardens? Beach?" you start to pitch and brainstorm. "What's the best space to pizzazz with these paper flowers that Jade's gonna kick ass at making?"

When your hand reaches her ear, she just melts. It's a soothing gesture that helps when River gets these horrific stress migraines, pinching and rubbing along the lobe to coax blood flow. River thinks for a moment, considering those suggestions. "Yeah, the beach could work," River says slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Jade loves the water, and I know her friends would have a blast playing in the waves."

"We'd keep an eye on them the whole time obviously," you add. "Section off an area just for the party, probably with whatever decorations Jade's picked.

More on board with the crafts now that they have a space in mind, she hands you the list of ideas Jade already jotted down. "Here. If you can read her handwriting."

Just like Jade's interests, her ideas are all over the place. Not that you don't appreciate her creative process, but cowboys, aliens, and dragons don't sound very beachy. There are pages that she scrawled down that go together though. The foam sword, the paper pirate hat, and a treasure map. You'll pour coffee on it, crumple it a little, and singe the edges with a lighter to make it look authentic. A pirate theme sounds like the ideal way to make everything cohesive, especially since it'll keep the kids entertained so no one goes home complaining to their parents.

"It could be like a scavenger hunt," River says. She's been steadily getting into the whole idea, pitching all sorts of ideas to make Jade's special day great. "Kills two birds with one stone. The map is something they actually use instead of a set piece and we'll know where they are when they run around. Make sure they stay where we can see 'em.

"Yeah, I like that! When I was a kid, I read these Skullduggery books and was like, damn, imagine digging something up. Me and my siblings buried this time capsule at the beach, but I'm pretty sure it just got swept away by the waves."

"You shoulda dug deeper," River teases, but pecks your lips when you pout at the memory. "OK, so that's settled for the main activity. What can we put in the chest that won't break the bank?"

Chocolate coins, obviously. The two of you take turns listing out treasures that you'd find for cheap, like candy necklaces and plastic swords that will be sturdier than the foam ones. Eyepatches are a must too. Plastic telescopes and octopus pop-its.

River writes down a note that Jade could make her friends a custom friendship bracelet to thank them for coming and commemorate the occasion. Plus, it would get that rainbow loom set you two bought her out of the storage. Jade went on a bracelet-making kick two months ago but got bored, so now you've got all these extra loom bands around.

The two of you get to throwing around food ideas (you, personally, wanna serve chicken nuggets but brand them as 'gold nuggets') when Jade comes out of her room.

"Ta-da!" the girl says, holding out her birthday invitations. All told, there are seven, with radically different drawings attached. There's a horse (which looks like a giraffe with the neck honestly), a robot, a ballet dancer... "I've got six best best friends, so they've all gotta come. Mackenzie's got a little brother that should probably come too since they're always together, so I made him a smaller one."

"It's very sweet of you to think of your friend's brother." River shoots you a look as she says this, since Jade has been very fixated on siblings ever since you moved in. You shrug. You're not opposed to the idea but babies are expensive so the conversation has never gone longer than "that'd be cool!"

"These are awesome, kiddo! Think you could add something to each of 'em? Me and your mama thought a theme would make your birthday even cooler," you say.

"A theme? Oh, what is it, what is it?" Jade's already got her crayons in hand, ready to add to her masterpieces depending on your next words.

"Mmm, let's just say that you could be a mermaid, or have a peg-leg, but you can't turn up as a land-lubber." You cringe as soon as you're done saying it (you had been writing clue ideas for the scavenger hunt for the last ten minutes, OK?), but it makes River laugh so it's worth it.

"Pirates?!" You think the windows might shatter, that's how loud Jade's shriek is.

"Hell yeah, baby girl!" River says. "You like it?"

"I love it! Thank you so so much!" Jade leaps between you two, her tiny arms trying their best to wrap around and hug you both at the same time.

Upon seeing River's excitement as she shows Jade the list of ideas you two came up with, you can't help but smile. Your two favourite girls in the world are so hyped now that they're not even thinking about the cost, which was what you've wanted from the start. Jade pores over the list, nodding and adding little notes to the margins. There needs to be vegetarian options for her friend, Priya, for example, and she doesn't want it soooo different from the other food that Priya feels like she's missing out.

The day ends with half-made paper flowers, hot glue on foam, and Jade's rainbow loom taking up space on the kitchen counter and dozens of tiny colourful rubber bands all over the floor. Not to mention the dinner you cooked, which has gone cold and forgotten still on the stove. But when you turn to see Jade passed out on the couch, River's eyes lock with yours. Tired and pissed off from watching too many DIY YouTube tutorials, your girlfriend mouths "thank you. Jade was so happy," and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[ivoryrebellionmess]

Spooky remorses IV

Part I Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You dated Jax for a year and a half, it was great. You fought sure, but that's a given if you´re both stubborn (and he's constantly in danger). Gemma didn't like the relationship, and she made sure that it ended. Now, months after the breakup, your friend takes you to a Halloween party that just happens to be SAMCRO´s.

warnings: 18+, mdni

A/N: I hope you like it, I´m so thankfull for every interaction with my posts. I love you guys so much <3

tw: foul language, kinda hooking up with your ex, jealous jax, smoking,a little bit of spice, alcohol, gemma being mean af

Word count: 5k

Staying alone in Jax´s room would only bring overthinking and second-guessing your presence there, so you decided to go search for a friendly face to distract you from every mistake you´d made in the last three hours.

The party was decaying fast, a few members still around drinking and chatting. You spotted Chibs sitting at the bar, and smiled to yourself, knowing he'd give you shit for…well, everything. 

Chibs looked up from his beer when you sat down next to him, brows raising in curiosity and mischief. But he said nothing, waiting for you to set the tone of the conversation.

So, with a defeated sigh, you did exactly that, ¨Go ahead, lay it on me¨. 

The scot laughed, but did not miss his chance. ¨Ya two were putting on quite the show out there, I thought you were gonna rip each other's clothes off on the spot¨.

You just laughed, what else was there to do?. ¨That bad huh?¨

The scot had a look in his eyes that could only be matched by a kid on Christmas morning, he had clearly missed having you around to give you a hard time. And he clearly had some more to add, ¨Oh, it was damn near pornographic. The way-¨

¨Oookay okay, i know i was there, remember?¨, he seemed pleased with himself watching your face redden under the dim lighting of the clubhouse. 

He turned a bit more serious, even if still wearing a shit-eating grin on his face. He hesitated before speaking again.

¨Seriously, though? I thought I was watching one of those cheesy movies you like. Next thing I know you´ll be confessin´your true love on a beach at night¨

You scoffed a laugh, but answered nothing. This was his way of telling you there was more than sexual tension there, and that he did not think it was a bad idea to pursue whatever else was brewing between you tonight. But of course Chibs liked you together, they all did, because you leveled Jax. When you dated he got into fewer fights, he didn't make reckless decisions, and he was in a better mood, which everyone thanked. The other side wasn't so pretty, knowing you'd always come second to his brothers, worrying about him whenever he was on a run, patching him up after, learning how to shoot and defend yourself `just in case`,...

Did you love him? Of course you did, that was the only reason you put up with it, until it became too much. You couldn't let yourself get dragged back into all of it. 

Jax was the kind of guy everyone wants to date: charming, hot, loving, all that mixed with the rush of the danger that came along with being a part of the club. Everyone doesn't know what it feels like, alone in your bed at 3 am, wondering if the cops got them, or the deal went wrong and they´re in a fight, or if he's dead on the side of the road. 

Chibs could almost hear your brain whirring and clicking, so he mentioned someone he knew you wouldn't resist talking about. ¨Gemma was about ready to explode¨.

You tried, and failed, not to laugh, ¨She burst in the room while I was cleaning Jax up¨.

Chibs matched your vibe instantly. No matter how much he loved Gemma, she'd been awful to you since day one, playing a main role in your breakup. So yeah, he´d relish a bit in her misery.

¨Wish I could've seen her face¨, he laughed, ¨What'd she say?¨.

You straightened your back, imitating her body language, ¨I'm his mother and I know what's best for him¨. A quick laugh flew from your throat before speaking again, in your own voice this time. ¨ You know, the usual¨.

A silly smile, a gentle one, invaded your face. Chibs just gave you your own time to say whatever caused it. And you did, in a lower voice, as if saying it aloud would make it not be real.

¨He actually stood up to her, he defended me¨, biting your lip, as much as you tried, did nothing to hide the stupid grin plastered on your face. And for the bare fucking minimum that is.

A look of respect crossed his face, eyebrows rising in surprise. Before saying anything else, he took a sip of his beer, letting the revelation sink in.

¨Did he now? That takes some serious balls¨. You nodded, looking down at your hands with that stupid lovesick look still on your face. 

Only then you realized, you´d been patching him up, he was beat and he´d need meds. ¨Hey you got some painkillers? big guns, he's messed up¨.

His stare got serious for a second, going over what he had. After a few seconds he dug in the inside pocket of his kutte and handed you a plastic bag with around ten pills inside. As he opened his mouth to give you the indications, you got up, interrupting him. 

¨Bed rest, no alcohol, what else doc?¨. You felt like a student again, eagerly answering questions about what should be done with patients. 

A smirk played on his lips, wanting to get back at you for cutting him off. ¨I wouldn't encourage any `physical activities´ tonight, let the boy rest¨. Once again, the familiarity of being in a situation you´d been in a dozen times before stirred something inside you.

It was comforting in a way, it felt like home. 

And, as so many times in the past, you promised it wouldn't happen. The difference was that you meant it. Chibs´s knowing look followed you, he sensed the tension that still lingered between the two of you. He also knew you were more than capable of handling Jax, which meant he could go to bed and not give a fuck. At least for tonight.

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and looked around for something to eat. You were tired and not in the mood for cooking, or a full meal, but Jax needed to eat something. He'd try to resist, he was awfully stubborn and he hated depending on people.

It was ironic really, he got himself into needing to be looked after. There was chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer, so after grabbing two spoons, you made your way back to Jax´s room. 

Chibs was no longer by the bar when you passed it, so you breathed deep and continued on your way. The shower was still running as you set the ice cream and water on the bedside table. It had been a long time, Jax was most likely standing there, letting the hot water soothe his aching muscles. Instead of disturbing him, you decided to lay on the bed. So you took off your shoes and closed your eyes, letting the humming of the shower relax you. 

After a good ten minutes the water stopped flowing, and shuffling sounds made their way to your ears.

Jax came out of the bathroom and stood on the doorway, honest surprise in his face at the sight in front of him. It had been a long time since you´d laid on his bed, especially so relaxed. 

Betting that he´d only be wearing a towel, you did not dare open your eyes, knowing the sight could be enough to send you into an early grave. His toned body wet, water dripping from his hair and beard onto his chest, down his abs, the towel low on his hips, a very visible happy trail,...

¨So you didn't fall down and drown¨, you simply stated.

Jax´s chuckle turned into a wince rather quickly, you furrowed your brows. You did not get a chance to ask how he was feeling when he retorted jokingly, ¨Managed to stay upright, darlin´, thanks for your concern¨

You felt it when he sat by your feet at the end of the bed, you also heard him groan. Finally opening your eyes, you offered some help. ¨Need a hand? Getting dressed?¨. The forming bruises on his back looked weirdly good, complimenting his tattoo.

Your question was met with silence as he glanced down at his body, probably trying to figure out a way to do it on his own.

There wasn't one, he was battered.

Jax chuckled wryly, admitting defeat. ¨My arms are sore and my ribs are killing me¨.

Of course he wouldn't admit to needing help, god he was like a kid sometimes. So you stood up and walked to his closet, hoping a little joke would make him feel better .

¨What are you feeling? casual chic? eleganza extravaganza? cocktail attire?¨. His dry laugh once again led to a wince, but his humour didn't falter, ¨I ain't´exactly feelin´up to a fashion show at the moment¨.

You shrugged, ¨As you like¨, grabbing grey sweatpants and a white shirt, ¨You ready?¨. He looked up at you when you made your way back to him, nodding slowly.

He took a deep breath as he sat straighter, ¨Ready as I´m gonna be¨. When he looked up at you, the vulnerability in his eyes got to your heart. You would've done anything to make him feel better, that had always been the issue. 

So you smiled at him, you couldn't help yourself. The cold nurse was long gone, you now were the girl that had fallen hard for him. ¨You´ve been worse, right? This is a walk in the park¨. Jax chuckled through the pain.

¨Been worse, I´ll give you that. A walk in the park might be an exaggeration¨, you caressed his shoulder as he kept talking, ¨I´m trying my best not to pass out and you´re here all smiles like you don't have a care in the world¨. 

¨You are what I care about right now¨. And before you could stop yourself, you were leaning in and pecking the side of his mouth. Sure, it wasn't a proper kiss, but still, what the fuck were you doing?.

Jax was clearly caught off guard, and when you stepped back a smile was tugging at the corner you´d just pecked.

¨You can't just go around doin´that¨, his voice was a bit hoarse, ¨I aint supposed to get excited right now, darlin´¨

The fact that he was joking was a good sign, but had nothing to do with the smile lingering on your face. ¨Okay, whatever, you know it wasn't like that¨, you laughed, handing him the sweatpants.

You kept on bossing him around as you made your way back to his closet, ¨Put those on and I´ll help you with the shirt¨, you looked over your shoulder at the bruise on his ribs and muttered under your breath, ¨That´ll be trickier¨.

You paid more attention to his groans than the clothes you were picking to change into, and decided he was fine. As fine as he could, given the circumstances. 

Jax finally managed to get the sweatpants over his hips, not missing a chance to rile you up when he noticed what you were doing. ¨You´re not stealing my clothes when I am on the verge of death, are you?¨.

The amusement in his voice made you smile, ¨Well I'm not sleeping like this¨, you vaguely gestured to your dress.

He loved the idea of you sleeping next to him, wearing his clothes. ¨You could always sleep naked¨. He spoke low enough that you had to make an effort to hear him, turning around to see his grin. And that may have been a bad move, a flash of the past crossing your mind…Jax, giving you that same grin, from between your thighs. 

Somehow you managed to answer casually, not letting your true feelings show, ¨You´re not supposed to get excited, remember?¨

¨´course I remember, it doesn't mean i can appreciate the view¨. Something more important than the banter between you came up, a pair of leggings. Not any pair, your favourite ones. The ones you haven't been able to find since the breakup. ¨They were here all this time?¨

Jax chuckled, knowing how much you loved them. ¨Found ´em a few months ago¨, the ghost of a smile danced on his face, ¨Looks like they found their way back to you¨

You bit your lip, pleased with your finding, and pulled out a zip-up hoodie, ¨I think this will be easier to put on¨

You walked up to him, ¨Okay let's go¨, and put his right arm through the sleeve. He didn't complain, so you did the other one. ¨Want me to zip it up?¨.

Jax just nodded, breathing through the pain in his ribs. 

When you were done, you opened his side of the bed, ¨Get in, I´ll be right back¨

You watched as he slowly laid down, playfully pouting at you. ¨You really gonna leave me all alone?¨

You hummed, ¨Yeah, give you some time to think about what you did¨. You heard his chuckle as you went in the bathroom and closed the door.

You changed into your leggings and the shirt you´d originally gotten for him and looked in the mirror. You honestly looked way better than you expected, so you washed your face and took the fangs off. 

Jax looked up when he heard the doorknob twisted, and he had to stop himself from smiling when he saw you. His heart ached to have you back in his life. He nodded at the space next to him and you made your way over, grabbing the ice cream on the way. He didn't need to hear it to know you wanted him to eat something, even if he did not feel like it, so he took that to his advantage. He grabbed the ice cream and patted the bed next to him. ¨I´ll eat if you lay down with me¨

You both knew you couldn't say no to him, so why even try? You sat next to him, handing Jax one of the spoons and burying your own on the ice cream tub. He kissed your temple, ¨Thanks for taking care of me, I know I can be stubborn¨.

Finally you accepted it , you were in too deep, and you didn't care. Maybe tomorrow morning you would, you'd regret everything. ¨You really are insufferable, baby¨.

Both of your hearts jumped at the pet name, yet decided to play it nonchalant, focusing on the ice cream. 

¨I aint that bad, just a little stubborn is all¨. His playful look was met with your incredulous one, ¨A bit-?¨.

He laughed, knowing he was an absolute ass at times, ¨Dont lie, you love it¨.

Shaking your head at his smugness, you handed him two pills.  ¨Please, knock yourself out¨.

A little while after taking them, Jax felt the pain starting to dull and his head getting drowsy. Still, he tried to stay awake, to enjoy five more minutes of your company. Even if that was just laying next to you while you ate the whole ice cream. 

¨You really think I´m that bad, huh?¨. He mumbled, a smile on his face.

You placed the empty container on the bedside table and laid on your side, looking at him. ¨Not at all¨, your voice was barely above a whisper.  

Jax´s eyelids were heavy, the meds really starting to work, you could tell he was making an effort to keep his eyes from closing. 

¨I'd hate to have you think I am an insufferable ass¨.

You´d already fucked up by ending in his bed, so what was another tiny mistake? You leaned in and softly kissed him, whispering against his lips. ¨Well yeah, but you´re my insufferable ass¨.

His heart skipped a beat, he gently kissed you, one of his hands softly grazing your hip. ¨Damn you¨. What he wanted to damn, more than you, was the effect you still had on him.

You bumped your nose against his, teasing him. ¨Nice thing to say after I took care of you¨.

He snorted, now laying on his back. ¨You know what I mean¨, he gave you a lazy smile, ¨Not fair, kissin´me when I'm high and can't do nothin´about it¨.

He looked relaxed from the side, you could tell he was almost asleep, ¨You got bigger things to worry about¨.

The ever-present smirk on his face did not falter, ¨Do I now, like what?¨.

God, how he managed to still be so cocky you would never understand. You were a close second though, only giving him a pointed look for an answer. And he knew what you meant, of course he did, but how could he not tease you a little?

He put the best innocent facade he could muster before side eyeing you, ¨You´re gonna have to be a little more specific, darlin´¨ .

You just laughed under your breath, ¨What a fucking ass¨.

He was a sucker for you, living for moments like these, living for you. ¨Aren't you supposed to be nursing me back to health?¨, you were scooting closer before you knew it, ¨And here I thought you were doing it because you care about me or somethin´¨.

¨Oh my god how long do these meds take to work¨, you playfully teased, ¨there are no laws against insulting you while I heal you, baby¨.

¨You´re a real piece of work, y´know that?¨, he was slurring, the pills finally getting to him. 

You just shushed him, caressing his face, ¨Sleep now¨.

Jax could barely fight it, but he found the strength to ask you one last thing. ¨You´re not gonna disappear on me while I sleep, are you?¨.

You didn't let yourself think about it for too long before reassuring him that you'd stay. He finally fell into a deep, medicated sleep. When the stress was finally gone, you realized how tired you actually felt. It did not take long for you to close your eyes and drift off next to him.

About six hours later, a pair of blue eyes slowly opened under furrowed brows. The first thing Jax had felt when consciousness returned to him had been pain. It wouldve been very romantic that you were the first thing on his mind, sure, but that´s just not how life works sometimes. 

The ribs on his left side, his fists, the back of his head, it was as if every single part of him was hurting.

Your stirring finally reminded him of…well, everything that had happened. Its not that he didnt remember what had happened, but considering he hit his head Jax just assumed it had been a dream. 

It hadnt though.

You looked peaceful, the ghost of a smile gracing your lips. You´d looked beautiful last night, but this was better. No worry lines on your face, no furrowed brows, just a smile. 

Cute as this moment was, his body had other plans. Jax slowly sat up, trying not to wake you. It was hard, even through his gritted theet, he could not help but groan. 

You rubbed your eyes, barely able to get words out of yourself. ¨Hey, hey, hey dont move¨.

All his feelings of gratitude and desire to prove he was a better man were quickly overrun by annoyance at his own aching body, ¨I know¨, his back was facing you. 

¨But I gotta piss¨. His voice was rough and a little aggressive, you just sighed and laid back on the bed.

The blond may not have evolved, but you sure had. You matched his passive aggression and just stayed there, eyes closed, pretending to sleep. Some time ago, you´d have force fed him painkillers and treated him carefully, but that wasnt you anymore. Not the sober you anyways.

So, after a couple tries, he had no choice but to ask for your assistance. ¨Help me up?¨. A few second of deafening silence. ¨Please¨

Your lips stil sealed and half asleep, you went to his side and let him use you as a crouch. Jax heavily leaned on you, trying hard to keep silent. Determined to pretend he was fine. 

There was a flaw on his plan, he needed your help to make it to the bathroom.

Based on experience this was just his body warming up, after a little movement he´d be all right on his own. Almost.

¨Feels like a truck run me over¨, he tried to joke. His shitty morning attitude had bothered you so you kept quiet. 

That was until you were halfway to the bathroom and all of his weight was on you, risking his mood worsening, you asked. ¨Want me to get one of the boys?¨

That struck a nerve, someone seeing him weak? No way. He tensed up and stopped walking. 

¨I can do it myself¨, you could barely hear him through his gritted teeth. 

Fearing your reaction if you pushed it, you scoffed and urged him to keep moving. He played it tough, stubborn as he was. Anyone couldve been able to tell that he was in a lot of pain.

Jax looked at your face for the first time when he leaned on the doorframe, his voice was soft when he spoke, even if his words were not. ¨I can take it from here¨.

Raising your hands in surrender, you took a step back. Your voice was cold when you said he had more pills on the bedside table.

You left, mad at him, mad at you. Mad. Just plain mad. 

The biker grunted, closing the door and leaning on the sink, knowing had pissed you off. He did look like shit, pale skin and tired eyes. Jax cursed under his breath, he couldnt bear the thought of anyone seeing him like this, not even you. 

Especially not you.

That´s something you´d never been truly quite grasped. It wasnt so much a macho thing, not with you. When it came to you, it wasnt about bravado. It was about making someone he loved suffer, the hurt in your eyes when they went over his bruises, … A hurt he did not know how to comfort. 

You made your way to the kitchen, expecting it to be empty. If the beginning of the morning had been bad, what would come after was way worse. Gemma was sitting down having a coffee, and you couldn´t stop the groan that crossed your lips.

Gemma smiled slyly, the battle you´d won the prior night fresh in her mind. Fake sweetness laces her voice as you made your way to the coffee maker, ¨Well, well, look who it is¨.

¨Yeah, yeah¨. You didnt even bother wasting energy on her, knowing you´d need it with her hot headed son. 

She sipped her coffee as you put sugar on your own. Her sharp eyes studied your every move, looking for the perfect way to get under your skin, to gather the information she needed. 

If you hadnt known her, you´d have thought the concern in her voice was sincere. 

¨You look tired, sweetheart¨.

Again, no fight in you, everything about you was neutral, even your tone. ¨He just woke up¨, you dryly added.

She wanted to know what had happened, where your relationship stood. You wanted to erase the past night from your brain. 

Gemma´s eyes gleamed as she sensed the tension coming off of you. There was no doubt as far as whose fault that was.

¨And how is he?¨. You sat up on the counter, leaning your head back against the cabinets. ¨You know how he is¨.

 She just smirked, sipping from her mug. ¨Stubborn as a damn mule¨.

Silently, you nodded. Eyes closed, head thrown back, you almost felt calm. Almost. The matriarch studied you quietly. If your eyes had been open you would have seen something close to pride on them. Gemma herself had never been able to pinpoint what exactly she disliked about you. Because it was not you . Your personality, she liked, you were fiery. You could handle her son and you perfectly managed with the rest of the men of the club. Had she been honest with herself, you were too good for this life, it dimmed your light. She had seen you around town with your friends, you looked happier when you didnt have a criminal to worry about constantly.

She rested her forearms on the table, cocking her head as she spoke. ¨Can I ask you something?¨.

There was no spite in her words, and her face seemed softer than you could remember ever seeing it.

For a second you played with the idea of her liking you, being there for you when Jax was being an immature jerk or putting himself in danger. You quickly dismissed it, it wouldnt do you any good to dwell on that. 

You sounded almost playful when you answered, ¨I have a feeling youre gonna ask anyways¨.

She chuckled, you both knew each other all too well to be playing this game. ¨Why are you back?¨.

Once again, no bite behind her question, just plain curiosity. You straightened your position on the counter so you could have a proper conversation. ¨Whats your point?¨. No bite didnt mean you were friends of course, you were still weary.

¨Jax´s better off without you¨, she did not seem as sure of this statement as a few seconds before. Your brows furrowed, defending her son was a pivotal point of Gemma. ¨You two arent good for each other…¨.

It felt like she was holding something back, yet you couldnt figure out what it could possibly be. Gemma´s voice was soft when she finished her sentence, ¨…he makes you into something you´re not¨.

She quickly went back to her usual demeanour, leaning back on her chair, ¨You know it and so do I¨.

It somehow felt like you were walking into something, but not a trap, not exactly. You moved from your spot on the counter to a chair in front of Gemma, and took a sip of coffee before giving into whatever was happening. 

¨What´s that supposed to mean? He makes me into something I´m not?¨. You knew, you agreed, and your eyes reflected it.

But this could not be played as a bonding moment between the two of you, neither of you were ready to navigate that type of relationship. 

¨My boy turns you into a mess, all upset and emotional¨, she eyed your face up and down, ¨exhausted¨. 

Well, yeah, you were stressing over Jax, you´d done that for the whole time you´d dated. What else were you supposed to do when your boyfriend was VP of a literal gang? You worry, that's what you do.

On the other hand, she was right and you couldnt deny it. He turned you into an unstable version of yourself, a not-so-cheery you, … No one could deny that after the initial shock when the breakup happened, you´d had a glow up. It wasnt something physicall, it was all of you. You were relaxed, you were happier. Even if you missed Jax and the bad days felt like absolute shit. If you were honest with youself, that was normal after losing someone important in your life, not a sign that you truly wanted to get back with him.

Gemma could see the turmoil of doubt in your eyes, and maye a little bit of her in you? Getting pregnant had played an important part on her staying with her first husband but what wouldve happened if she hadn´t? And what would happen to you if you stayed? She knew how the club corrupted everyone it touched, and you had managed to escape that once.  Would you be lucky enough to do it twice?

She got up and, before leaving, she added, ¨You already spend your days nursing people back to health¨. You didnt need to be doing it as an extracurricular activity too…

Alone in the kitchen, you finished your coffee, a million thoughts racing in your head. It got too much and you needed space from anything to do with the club. Rushing to the room, you mentally checked where you had left your clothes and purse the night before. 

The room was not empty, he was in the bed. It didnt take long to notice he was asleep. Thank god. 

The pills were nowhere to be seen, so he would not wake up. You hopped in the shower, the hot water numbing your thoughts. Alone in the bathroom, Gemma´s words resonated with you. You forcefully tried to stop that train of thought when your heart started to beat faster and faster. 

Somewhere deeep inside you, you wanted to push Jax away, to protect yourself. He still had a grip on your heart, but that only meant he could still hurt you. What had ahppened last night after all? What had happened this morning?

You dry yourself and put your leggings back on, the shirt still smells like Jax when it goes over your head. You pretend it doesn´t affect you. You grab a gym bag from Jax´s closet and put all of your things inside it.

The tought that leaving with so much of his stuff would probably mean at least another call does cross your mind. You quickly banish it as you put on your heels, not having another shoe option. 

Jax looks innocent when he´s sleeping, no tension on his face, you place a kiss on his cheek. A goodbye? You did not know. 

You chuckle when you look at your outfit on the mirror, the true definition of a walk of shame.

Breathing deeply, you look at him one last time, and walk out. On your way to look for a taxi, you come across Gemma.

No words are exanged, but your eyes are enough. For both of you. It was never about hatred. 

Anxiety swarms your mind as you exit the Sons´ property, would you ever be sure that this had been the right decision? 

[sailorluna15]

Like Him by Tyler The Creator, but it's Azula and her family.

Azula being Lola Young's part of "Do I look like him?"

From Ursa's point of view, it's her seeing not only Ozai but herself in Azula. She sees how Ozai has infected Azula just like he infected her. She sees how she went from smiling like her, laughing like her, crying like her, dancing like her, singing like her, and even reading the same fairytale books she used to read as a child to imitating her father and abandoning everything that she loves and that's natural to please him.

Ozai sees himself in his daughter. He sees himself as a child in her. A calm, socially awkward child who struggles to make connections with others. A child who spends much time alone, drawing, painting, and playing make-believe. However, he also sees Ursa. When he sees Azula come home with two girls he doesn't know and look happier than she's looked in her entire life, it makes him envious. Seeing her sing, draw, and dance for her mother, cousin, brother, and friends makes him sneer. She doesn't need to do those things. Those things will do nothing but make her weak. He will make her strong. She doesn't need anyone but him. One by one, he chips away at her. Rubs poison on her gums and whispers curses into her ears. He exposes her to radiation and tells her symptoms are normal. He destroys her because she's more useful to him that way. She's more useful when she looks like Ozai than when she looks like Ursa.

Zuko stares at his sleeping child, and a memory flashes through his mind. He and Azula leaning on each other, sleeping soundly. He never thought in a million years that his daughter would come out looking like his sister. When Izumi smiles, laughs, gives attitude, dances, and shows repeatedly that she's quick as a whip, it reminds him of his sister. He wonders what life would be like if Ozai had been different. If Mom had been different. If Cousin hadn't died. If Uncle had taken her with him. If she had gone with them. If she'd had been more like a sister and less like an enemy. Even now, as their toxic relationship has turned into a weirdly close one, she refuses to come home. To return to her keeper. He tried bringing her to his chambers the first time she returned to the palace. She refused. He asks why, but she refuses to answer. He wants to push further, but she looks like she might break if he does, so he doesn't. He tries to get her to stay longer, as his daughter loves her newfound family member, but Azula pushes to go home. She pushes to go back home to the countryside with her wife. He lets her go and only sees her when his turtle duck dances to a concert of hers playing on the TV. Every time his turtle duck sees her Titi singing on stage, she asks when she's coming back to see her lovebug.

Mai gets a little jealous when she sees her old friend interacting with her new friends. She sees the little girl she became best friends with when she sees her with them. How she laughs, jokes, dances, and spends time with them reminds her of how they all used to be before Ozai. Fuck him. Why did Azula have to change? Why couldn't she stay the way she was. Funny, witty, protective, and kind in her own little way. Mai sees 'Zula in Azula. She wants to be friends with 'Zula again, but she doesn't know if they can ever return to that. She still harbors resentment and hate for the things Azula has done, but she still loves 'Zula. She always knew 'Zula was still in there somewhere, just hiding to keep safe. Azula's here because it's unsafe for 'Zula to be out. Azula protects 'Zula. Azula hurts others to protect 'Zula. Mai and Azula are cordial now. They laugh together about old times and about new things too, but Mai can tell it's not the same. Azula is always a bit guarded around all of them. She's protecting 'Zula. Mai guesses 'Zula doesn't feel safe around her anymore. It hurts Mai a little to know that Azula is the only version of 'Zula she'll ever see anymore.

Ty Lee is a little like Mai. She sees 'Zula, but she sees Azula more. She's happy Azula has changed, glad that 'Zula's. However, she can't help but wonder why she and Mai weren't enough. Why couldn't Azula change for them? She knows it isn't that simple. Azula was protecting herself the best way she knew how, but it still hurt to see her treat people she'd known since she was 16 better than people she'd known since she was 6. What's so special about them? Her new friends act protective whenever she and Mai are around. As if Azula needs their protection. As if they hurt Azula. She knows they fucked up with Azula, but Azula hurt them way more than they hurt her. They all agreed to let everything go. They both have apologized to each other and have shown growth, but things will never be the same. Azula won't even let Ty behind her. If she thinks Ty is behind her, she immediately turns around or maneuvers herself to where Ty Lee is in her line of sight. Ty Lee guesses it's only fair. Whenever Azula lights something on fire, Ty Lee creates a healthy distance and gets nervous. They're cool, but there are some things you can never forget.

This was supposed to be a little short but it got long. LEMME KNOW IF YALL WANT MORE.

[professorspork]

Wicked 1/23/25, National Tour @ Hollywood Pantages in Los Angeles

HELLO FRIENDS.

I have just seen Wicked LIVE AND IN PERSON for the first time since *checks notes* holy shit six years exactly to the day, I saw Jackie Burns and Kara Lindsay on 1/23/19 in this very same theater

that's wild

anyway i was very disappointed in past me's note-taking so today i wrote down EVERYTHING

but also i didn't remember to pack my notepad like i thought i did so i ended up scribbling wildly on my hand, and then my arm, and then my ankle like i was possessed by some eldritch horror

no, i can't read a word of that either

anyway COME ON THIS JOURNEY WITH ME, SHALL WE?

ngl a massive reason I bought this ticket was to see openly queer Mullet Glinda herself, Austen Danielle Bohmer, so I happily took a photo of the company listing when I walked in:

...only to then be very put out when I opened up my Playbill and saw that in fact I was scheduled to see the second understudy, Allsun O'Malley:

I asked an usher if he knew who would be Glinda and he was like "I'm pretty sure the board out front is correct?" so I had to wait in feverish anticipation to know for sure

In the meantime I saw this note:

...which made me hope I might get to hear the audible electric guitar music variants in Dancing Through Life etc that the LA production used to do in the Eden and Megan days but alas, it did not happen

seeing Austen also did not happen, and I could tell IMMEDIATELY because when the bubble floated in there was a visible like EIGHT INCHES OF CLEARANCE between the top of Glinda's head and the bubble and i was like "well that ain't Tall Glinda"

(Allsun is very aware that she is a short queen, bless)

here's the thing about Allsun O'Malley: she has a DISTINCTIVELY naturally low speaking voice and she doesn't do a thing to hide it as Glinda. Helen was pondering aloud the other day if Every Glinda Does A Voice and I had speculated that yeah, probably, bc if they're not doing Billie Burke they're doing Cheno and if they're not doing Cheno they're doing The Concept Of Glinda and like. nah. she'd sing the operatic high notes and then talk with this brassy alto and it was SO distinctive and interesting. (this is also a surprise tool that will help us later)

i cannot explain why I feel this so strongly, but the closest analog I can come up with to the energy and presence of Allsun's Glinda is like. Nate Stevenson???? the comparison came to me IMMEDIATELY and I could not articulate just what it is if you paid me but i felt it in my bones

okay thoughts scene by scene that's how we'll do this

NO ONE MOURNS THE WICKED

I really liked how my Frex, Wayne Schroder, did "I'm off to the assembly, dear." It was like. Actually distracted and off the cuff like real married couples speak and not Hello I Am Union And Delivering My First Big Line and i appreciated that

Glinda got SO close to memory!Boq and almost touched his face, which moved me. Allsun's "it was a long time ago, and we were both very young" was satisfyingly near-tears

DEAR OLD SHIZ

tonight's Boq, Alex Vinh, had a ponytail! spoiler alert his Tinman did not have a silver tinsel ponytail which was a great disappointment

ROOM ASSIGNMENTS

Lauren Samuels is ALSO A SHORT QUEEN pocket sized gelphie made me feral. Lauren's portrayal of Elphie kind of faded into the background at times because Allsun and later Xavier McKinnon (😍🥵 MORE ON HIM IN A MINUTE) were both so charismatic but I did enjoy it very much

her "I'm beautifully tragic" was fuckin great, really leaned into the humor

when Galinda introduced herself as "Galinda Upland... of the Upper Uplands" she held out her hand like she expected Morrible to kiss it

Morrible did not kiss it

speaking of Morrible, Aymee Garcia has a SHOCKINGLY good voice and after seeing so many bootleg Morribles who don't bother to sing at all getting such a strong and lovely singer was a wonderful jolt to the system

Galinda didn't do a full trust fall faint at "something's wrong, I didn't get my way" (totally fair, not something I think is reasonable to expect from a second u/s) but Allsun still linked elbows with her friends, which is notable only because she did it later in the exact same way after Dillamond booted everyone from class like "Animals Should Be Seen And Not Heard" had also affected her (or admittedly possibly like she was worried she'd be blamed for it)

THE WIZARD AND I

Lauren did the thing where when Elphie says "when we work hand in hand" she holds up her best friend Suitcase by the handle and this is a Little Elphie Thing I always love

WHAT IS THIS FEELING?

rather disappointingly, this is one of the moments I honestly don't have big feelings about, which is telling. Allsun's G(a)linda is very obsessed with Elphie but enduringly, tragically straight about it and it was obvious to me as early as here I would not be Getting Everything I Wanted

HOWEVER

she did a full on Tevye-style shoulder shimmy for that last moment when Galinda's dancing and Elphie hip-checks her and it was very good

HISTORY CLASS/SOMETHING BAD

Kingsley Leggs did not get touchy with his students and did do the air quotes for "scapegoat" so perfect Dillamond no notes

I'm also not sure of most Dillamonds do this and it's not in the shot re: boots, but he explicitly shushed Elphaba before she could tell Morrible what happened from behind Morrible's back which I liked v much

DANCING THROUGH LIFE

Xavier's Fiyero is dreamy as fuck and can dance so well and can sing so pretty and i am SO VERY ENAMORED

srsly cannot overstate how fabulous he was, even though he's obviously a fiyeraba truther and not a thropple guy more on that later tho

bc i know my wife will ask, yes Allsun did the pokey stab at "sharp, doncha think" but did not do it hard enough for the hat to actually make contact w Lauren's stomach

Allsun was so short you could barely tell Xavier was dipping her lmaooooo

for the first time i noticed a sad wallflower dancer girl who's by herself near the stairs for most of the Ozdust portion and i want to know what her deal is

Allsun HUGGED Morrible at "how can I express my gratitution?" and lmao Morrible did not care for it one bit

Xavier did the cutest little shoulder nudge at "then what's the matter?" and at hearing "nothing" transformed into The Most Suave Man In The World for "good, let's dance" as like a SEDUCTION line it was great

Lauren's solo dance ruled, peak intense cringe

VERY striking to me that when Galinda first approaches Elphie, the crowd goes "yaaaaas!" like they think she's going to get off a really good zinger. they then LAUGH at "can I cut in?" as though that in itself is the insult they were waiting for. in the boots I've seen I've mostly taken this for audience laughter at that line, but tonight it was VERY clear it was from the ensemble

SECRETS/POPULAR

Allsun started the scene fully belly-flopped on the bed and remained laying down for "Your very first party?" which is the first time I've seen that

Lauren's English accent made its only appearance during the milkflowers monologue when she let out a "mum"

After the popular/LAR moment when Galinda has to dance cross the stage and then return to the bed, Allsun chose to do so by doing a lasso motion and pulling herself back to Elphie which charmed me utterly

Allsun did a full fucking split at "very very popular like me" it was damn impressive

I hope there's an Allsun boot someday her toss toss pose also involves particular foot placement and she MADE Lauren stand up and copy her

Lauren also fully tossed her hair entirely into her face so hard she had to pick it out of her mouth, I'm p sure she must do this every night it ruled

however this Popular still sealed Allsun's fate as Very Straight, the vibes were just. not there alas.

LION CUB

SINCE WHEN IS THERE WIRE WORK WHERE ELPHIE FLOATS TWO OF THE STUDENTS??? WHEN DID THEY MAKE THIS CHANGE??!?!?! i was astonished lmao

Lauren and Xavier really made a meal of "you think i'm really stupid don't you?" "no! not... really stupid" and I knew then for sure this was a Fiyeraba Truther cast

I'M NOT THAT GIRL

another "SINCE WHEN?" moment: the tour cheaped out on getting a bridge the cast could actually walk on, so the bridge is a flat set piece and then in the interlude Galinda and Fiyero actually just run onto the stage to dance in the rain and there's a spinning hug and it is DEVASTATINGLY EFFECTIVE at showing the two of them actually enjoying dating with Elphie on the outside looking in, I loved it, it should be like this everywhere

TRAIN SCENE

they modified the blocking so that rather than drag elphie back after she tries to run after Nessa, Allsun just body blocks Elphie completely from chasing by holding out an arm which I loved

Fiyeraba trutherism cont'd, Xavier *sprinted* past Allsun to give Elphie her flowers before having to cross all the way back for her. she then grabbed the flowers to offer them ALONGSIDE him at "we're both so happy for you" which charmed me but again, it read competitive not compersive

I can't explain how but Allsun delivered "I've always wanted to see the Emerald City" in this sweetly vulnerable way, like it was something she'd mentioned to Elphie before and she was touched Elphaba remembered

ONE SHORT DAY

Ever since Helen told me she heard an audio boot where Lindsay Mendez read the line "finally somewhere I belong" instead of "i belong" and I've wanted one ever since and Lauren delivered

in the long pause after "two BEST friends" it was Lauren who broke and reached first. this was repeated later in "I hope you're happy, now that you're choosing this" which is striking to me because I was/am going to make a punctum about how Annaleigh Ashford always did it the exact opposite, where she reached first and let her Elphies choose to take her hand

AUDIENCE WITH OZ

when Elphie was bowing during "I'm Elphaba Thropp your terribleness" Glinda was coaching her through doing it from the sidelines like Amy Poehler in Mean Girls

Blake Hammond's first two credits in his bio are Edna in Hairspray and Pumbaa in Lion King, and he plays the Wizard exactly how you would expect knowing these two things

A SENTIMENTAL MAN

yes Helen he did do "son or daughter" like Glinda was his son, as god intended

LEVITATION SPELL

Lauren was d e v a s t a t e d after "you have no real power," she wasn't even listening to "exactly, and that's why i need you" she was fully head down hair covering her face CRYING crying

DEFYING GRAVITY

Allsun's "STOP" was authoritative rather than soul-rending, but then she knelt down NEXT to Lauren and HUGGED HER AROUND THE SHOULDERS for "maybe you're not as powerful as you think you are"

Lauren delivered "come with me; think of what we could do... together" near tears and i loved it

this was the biggest moment Allsun's second understudy status shined through, for a second there she couldn't get the cape clasp closed and it was an UNCOMFORTABLY long fermata for the orchestra giving her the room to do it before transitioning into the Elphie gets to her feet drum roll

again, not sure if this was a Them Thing or if this always happens and I never noticed because boots are in closeup and I wasn't looking for it before, but at "and if I'm flying solo" Lauren did a full on goodbye wave to Allsun as like a farewell of forgiveness and understanding and Allsun reach-waved back

growl at the beginning of ~battlecry, ty Lauren for my life

INTERMISSION

it was my intention to spend my intermission beginning the draft of this post and frantically try and decipher the mad scribblings i'd made up my arms, but i instead spent most of it talking to the woman next to me, a gregarious mom who'd brought her two girls

she told me she'd only just seen the movie and then DIDN'T GO ON THE INTERNET bc she DIDN'T WANT SPOILERS FOR ACT TWO

!!!!

reader i loved her this woman made my night

she was so into everything and when I told her about how often I'd seen the show she asked me so many questions about what changed over time and was so impressed by what they managed to do on stage

also one of her daughters was like "mom, elphaba's FUNNY!" in surprised delight and uh yeah that is my greatest criticism of Cynthia's portrayal and the fact that these random normies could tell was. a lot. to me.

it was only at this moment that it dawned to me how FULL this audience was of kids and parents in this exact same position, people who legitimately did not know what was coming in act 2

the following are the moments that earned OUT LOUD GASPS from the WHOLE AUDIENCE due to this fact:

Tin Man reveal

Dillamond under the blanket reveal

"use her sister"

"things that don't belong to us" up through the slaps, gasps on EACH ESCALATING LINE/MOMENT

Fiyero turning the gun on Glinda

"she was yours all along" THEY. DID NOT. SEE. THIS. COMING.

anyway

THANK GOODNESS

pitch-perfect "not how you described it to me"/"not exactly but we'll talk about it later"

because, again, the bridge was not something the ensemble could stand on, everyone was just crowded around the platform for this, which made it feel (purposefully and effectively) claustrophobic. despite being an obvious Fiyeraba truther Xavier is so GALLANT to Glinda in this scene, because like-- when Morrible gets the crowd all riled up and they start choking in, he made this protective motion like he thought they were gonna grab at Glinda and he was keeping her safe

then after stalking off, he trotted back to give Glinda a chivalrous hand down from the platform like it was just pure instinct

SINCE WHEN DOES POPULAR MOTIF PLAY UNDER THE GLINDA AND FIYERO TALK???!?

however the fact that I have more to say about Xavier's choices in this scene than I do Allsun says all you need to know i think

WICKED WITCH OF THE EAST

Erica Ito hadn't made much of an impression on me in act 1 but she ATE in this scene. nessa was fierce as fuck and actually scared me at "lost your heart?"

also before that she did the thing Michelle Federer used to do and looked all paranoid over her shoulder after "i'm an unelected official" like people could be listening and i've missed it

Lauren did EXCELLENT reaching as Allsun and Xavier left the stage in the scene transition into Wonderful

WONDERFUL / FREEING THE MONKEYS / REUNION

sorry Mr. Hammond i have nothing more to say abt your Wizard

Allsun got big laughs on her pained, awkward-trying-to-be-chipper delivery of "we all went to school together"

the fiyeraba trutherism comes home to roost, i have never seen any fiyero burst out "i'm going with her" so fucking fast

his callousness there was balanced by how kindly he pulled off the "well it was -- but it wasn't" to both

still, he was fully out the room and expected elphie to just follow him after his exit bc he didn't grab her hand, so he had to COME BACK FOR HER and DRAG her away bc she wouldn't stop making eye contact w Glinda

Morrible did a full on evil laugh after "change in the weather"

AS LONG AS YOU'RE MINE

exactly as horny as you'd expect given everything else i've said so far but Lauren REALLY gave it her all on that front

the mom next to me literally said "spicy!" under her breath after "for the first time i feel wicked"

lauren was THIRSTY going in for that parting kiss after the Kiamo Ko invite

CATFIGHT

this is where it all fell apart a little, because Allsun being 2nd u/s just didn't have the chemistry there to pull off all the transitions

she also couldn't quite manage the wand twirl which was a bummer

i think this became a more common move for Glindas in the late 2010s but she went in to touch foreheads w Fiyero after "he loves her" and it killed me

NO GOOD DEED

not nearly feral enough for my tastes sry Lauren.

i will say a lot of this was not her fault, current tour choreo for stages without the trapdoor entrance demands she just HOLD the grimmerie for half the scene before awkwardly handing it off to Chistery and it is very distracting

MARCH OF THE WITCH HUNTERS

noose lady was VERY front and center my goodness

again bc tour Glinda and Boq had to enter via platforms being wheeled on instead of having the built-ins, and for the first time i noticed Glinda's is her Thank Goodness platform. that made me froth at the mouth.

aymee was PERFECT at "you've wanted this from the beginning and now you're getting what you wanted" but kind of undersold "so just smile and wave and shut up" tbh

FOR GOOD

helen has been keeping a timer of how long it takes gelphie to touch after the song starts in earnest at "i've heard it said" and tonight was zero seconds Allsun started out already gripping Lauren's shoulder

and here is where Allsun's deep speaking voice comes in, because it has this thing where instead of Glinda taking the lower harmony feeling like she's changed it feels like she's finally being honest/herself for the first time musically

FINALE

somehow DJ Smart managed to make "M-Miss? Miss Glinda...." sound not only like Chistery struggling to speak but like CHISTERY HAD A LUMP IN HIS THROAT BC HE THINKS ELPHIE IS DEAD TOO

NOT TELLING GLINDA AND FIYERO IS ONE THING BUT ELPHABA HOW DARE YOU NOT TELL CHISTERY

speaking of, Xavier passed on the Chain Of Forehead Touch from Allsun to Lauren at "no one can ever know" he was SO SAD and i prefer that so much to Fiyeros who are strident or chiding

SERIOUSLY ELPHABA YOU DIDN'T TELL CHISTERY YOU'RE ALIVE? GIRL.

anyway at curtain call Lauren made sure to do Big Gesture at Allsun bc she gets to do this So Rarely and i had an emotion

AND THAT WAS MY NIGHT oops this took me two hours to write and i still have work in the morning

oh well, worth it

[trombonechurchill]

Cutting Out the Middleman

Taylor Kelly/Lucy Donato, 1,154 words, rated T

Deep down, she thinks both she and Buck knew they were fighting against the current, that their broken edges were causing more cracks the tighter they tried to hold things together. And she's relieved, in a way. Taylor's never been good at lying to herself and she has to admit that's what she'd been doing for a long time now.

Probably since the second Buck kissed Lucy, really.

For the @9-1-1-kinkmeme prompt: What it says on the tin. After she and Buck break up, Taylor decides she wants to find out what was so great about kissing that hot flight medic. Lucy's happy to demonstrate.

Read here or on AO3

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taylor should be out celebrating. She just broke the story of the decade about a serial killer amongst some of the city's finest and yet she's here; haunting the same old badge and ladder doing a postmortem of yet another relationship crash and burn. Taylor Kelly, coming to you live from the smoldering wreckage of the last several months of her life. And she can't even really be all that mad about it.

Deep down, she thinks both she and Buck knew they were fighting against the current, that their broken edges were causing more cracks the tighter they tried to hold things together. And she's relieved, in a way. Taylor's never been good at lying to herself and she has to admit that's what she'd been doing for a long time now.

Probably since the second Buck kissed Lucy, really.

"What was it you said to me? 'I'd hate for things to get messy again'? I think you might have jinxed us with that one." As if summoned by some sort of karmic retribution, Lucy Donato swings herself into open seat next to Taylor at the bar.

Taylor fixes her with a tight smile, holding up her glass in a mock toast.

"If you're here to warn me off the 118, you can save your breath, I've learnt my lesson."

"The 118 can look after themselves, I am here to drink," Lucy says, enforcing the casual words with an easy sprawl of her legs. Out of the usual straight laced LAFD uniform or bulky bunker pants, Taylor supposes she shouldn't be surprised at the tight play of muscle under Lucy's jeans as she knocks her knee against where Taylor's are tucked up by the bar. Buck had insane thighs too, it must be a firefighter thing, she muses, taking another sip of her whiskey and polishing off the glass.

Lucy orders herself one of the beers on tap as Taylor considers her over the rim of her lowball glass, watching the smooth line of her throat as Lucy takes a long pull.

"Look, I'm not your enemy, I may have not liked how you did it, but I guess if the story had to come out, I'm glad it was you," Lucy says, apparently catching how Taylor had been eyeing her. She needed to work on her covert surveillance if she was being that obvious. Or maybe cut back on the drinking.

Taylor orders another lowball.

"I didn't say that you were," Taylor says simply, tilting her head and watching as Lucy's eyes follow the fall of her hair as it shifts over her shoulder. Time was, Taylor wasn't so sure if that was true. She didn't like it, playing the jealous girlfriend; feeling small and trapped and found wanting. Wondering what it was about her that pulled Buck across that line.

"You don't need to, your face is doing a lot of the talking for you," Lucy says back with a shrug, taking another long drink but punctuating the comment with a smile. Taylor does her best to school herself back into a neutral expression but she thinks maybe she's starting to get an inkling of what that thing may have been now.

"And what, exactly, do you think my face is saying?" Taylor raises a single polished eyebrow, an expression she's well perfected over the years, and feels a coil of satisfaction as Lucy turns fully to face her, giving her her full attention. Her eyes feel like a heavy weight on Taylor's skin as they trace across her face, down her cheek, her lips, back to Taylor's eyes. Taylor holds her stare.

"I think it's saying that there's something you want to ask me," Lucy says after a moment.

"That's presuming a lot." "Hey, I'm just calling it how I see it." Lucy's grin is charming, Taylor reluctantly admits, she can see the appeal. And Taylor's not blind, she could tell Lucy was attractive even sweaty and covered in soot, but it's different now, having those dark eyes turned on her, the full weight of Lucy's easy confidence and attention.

"So. What is it?" Taylor blinks, caught out staring for a second time tonight. "That you want to ask me," Lucy prompts again.

"I want to know why he kissed you," Taylor says, pleased to see that seems to have stumped Lucy at least for a moment.

"You know, I didn't expect you to actually come out and say it." Lucy scrubs at her chin, abashed but apparently not entirely ashamed for being called out about kissing someone else's boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.

"I've found it's always better to be direct about things."

"Yeah, I'm getting that. For the record, I didn't know he had a girlfriend until after we kissed. It was all in good fun," Lucy says, still watching Taylor closely.

"No, I figured, which means something about you was worth it," Taylor surmises, leaning in closer. "If I could just figure out what…" Lucy's eyes land on her lips again and Taylor smirks in triumph.

"I'd be happy to demonstrate, you know, for science or whatever," Lucy says slowly, setting her glass aside.

Taylor's barely moved her own before she's stepping forward, high-heeled shoe placed firmly between the v of Lucy's legs as she shifts into her space. With Lucy sitting down, Taylor's just tall enough to be able to tilt Lucy's face up, nails carding and catching in the hair behind her ear as she pulls her to face her.

Lucy's mouth is warm and Taylor feels heat bloom in her stomach as she wraps a strong arm around her waist and pulls her closer, her other hand coming to rest with surprising gentleness to tilt Taylor's face and deepen the kiss.

Taylor chases the taste of hops and saliva as she presses in closer, her own lips already whiskey warm and tingling as Lucy's tongue brushes over the seam of her lips as Taylor opens her mouth for more.

For a breathless moment, it's all Taylor feels, the slick slide of Lucy's mouth, the hot brand of her arm across her back and gentle fingers against her cheek. She sees a flash of dark eyes watching her under long lashes before Taylor finally pulls back, wiping at the corner of her mouth where she's sure her lipstick's smudged and clearing her throat.

"Well, I suppose I can see what all the fuss was about," Taylor says belatedly, forcing herself back and out of the loose loop of Lucy's arm as she drops back into her seat.

They're both quiet for a moment, drinking in easy comradery even as Taylor can see Lucy watching her from the corner of her eye.

"You know," Lucy starts after a beat, "I'm happy to try it again, you know. If you needed to collect more data or something."

Taylor grins.

"I do like to be thorough," she agrees, leaning back in.

[rhiannonsknife]

ough you will always be my favorite tumblr blog!! no one else could understand my thoughts and turn them into literary masterpieces like you

i've been thinking a little bit about roleplay with rhiannon... so buckle in, because this is gonna be wild, nasty, and filthy! which, what did you expect? it's rhiannon

i think she would love it if she acted like you were just a stranger that she'd set her eyes on earlier that night. you discuss it extensively beforehand, making sure that neither of you are uncomfortable. you're anything but, especially when she details all the things she wants to do to you

you go to a bar together but sit seperate, growing wetter as you watch her eye you up from across the room. it's not until you leave that you feel someone starting to follow you, just behind you but always out of sight

it's not until she pins you to the wall with her knife against your neck, that familiar crazed glint in her eye that you always see when she comes home from a kill. shes snaking her hands down the hem of your jeans, telling you about how you should probably stay quiet and who are you to say no? she's also whispering that she'll kill anyone that sees you, sparing glances towards the entrance of the alleyway before turning back to you and giving you a wicked smile

or, or, her holding the knife to your face as you eat her out!! with every lap of your tongue, her hand shakes, the knife barely doing anything to reinforce your behavior as you're already drunk on her pussy and the way she's falling apart above you

-🪐

3 months later and i’m finally finishing this draft…needless to say: nsfw content. mdni.

the plan was simple. simple and hers, of course. you'd discussed it at length earlier in the week, mapping out every possible detail.

rhiannon made sure you were comfortable, made sure you knew exactly what to expect (as much as you could expect from her, anyway): every look, every touch, every word. you knew what you were stepping into when you slipped on your dress and let rhiannon guide you out of the house earlier that night.

it starts at the bar.

you arrive but you don't enter or sit together. instead, you take a stool near the far end of the room, pretending not to notice rhiannon when she walks in a few minutes later.

you can feel her eyes on you almost immediately, dragging over you with that familiar hunger. she's already decided you're hers for the night, claiming you.

you sip your drink, forcing yourself to play along, though the tension coiling in your stomach makes it hard to focus on anything but her. not even 5 minutes in and you already feel like breaking character. rhiannon, on the other hand, is playing her part to perfection: she’s lounging at the corner of the bar, her legs crossed, her eyes scanning the crowd but never without occasionally flickering in your direction.

even from across the room, you can feel her gaze like a physical weight. the way she holds herself doesn’t give her away, yet you can see it in her eyes that she wants you too. you can't help but squirm, your pulse quickening as you wonder just how long she'll make you wait.

it feels like an eternity before you finally leave, the anticipation thrumming through your veins as you step out into the cool night air. it’s refreshing, after the pressing heat of the packed bar and the exponentially growing discomfort of your own wetness between your thighs.

you start walking then, the click of your shoes echoing on the pavement, your heart pounding harder with every step.

you quicken your pace when you hear the faint sound of footsteps just behind you. close enough to let you know you're not alone, but far enough to stay out of sight.

your nerves start buzzing with anticipation. the footsteps match your rhythm, never letting up, yet when you glance over your shoulder, you see nothing, the street stretching out empty under the dim glow of streetlights.

you know it's rhiannon, but the thrill of not knowing when she'll strike sends your pulse racing.

you turn down an alleyway, and that's when it happens: fingers close around your wrist firmly, spinning you around before you can react, and suddenly you're pinned to the cold brick.

rhiannon is on you before you can process what’s happening, her body caging you against the wall. one hand grips your wrist, pinning it beside your head, while the other holds a knife. her knife. the blade catches faintly in the moonlight, glinting as she holds it mere inches from your throat.

if it wasn’t for how close she’s standing, you wouldn’t catch it at all, but there’s a shudder in her breath, her eyes wide as she watches the way the blade moves by the gentle force of her own hand.

rhiannon tilts her head, her eyes finally meeting yours.

"got you," she whispers under her breath. rhiannon’s free hand slips from your wrist to your hip, knowing you won’t run from her.

“i've been watching you,” rhiannon murmurs, trailing the side of your jaw with the knife. “the way you look at me when you think i'm not paying attention...it's almost like you wanted me to catch you, hm?”

she holds your gaze as she runs the flat of the knife up your legs, the fabric of your dress riding up to your waist. you shiver at the sensation of the cold metal against your bare flesh, then exhale into rhiannon’s open mouth when she presses it right against your clit through your underwear.

“fuck-“

her eyes widen ever so slightly, a breathless smile flashing over her features. she brings her free hand down between your legs as well, as if to make sure she’s feeling things right.

“you’re so wet” rhiannon whispers. “if i’d known you would like this so much…” now she’s the one struggling to stay in character, if just for a split second.

“god, do you have any idea what l've been thinking about? what i could do to you right here, right now?”

even through the haze of arousal, you’re still aware of your surroundings. if somebody were to walk by, they’d instantly spot you and rhiannon. her free hand reaches for your chin and jerks your head back in her direction, grip just tight enough to remind you of the power she holds, the power you willingly gave her.

“if anyone sees us,” rhiannon rasps, as if she’d been reading your mind, “i’ll make sure they regret it. i’d kill anyone who saw you like this” her lips brush against the shell of your ear as she whispers, “do you understand?”

her knife presses just a little harder, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you it’s there. simultaneously, rhiannon’s lips ghost over yours, soft and teasing, a stark contrast to the sharp blade in her hand.

eagerly, you nod your head.

“good,” she husks against your lips. “now get on your knees.”

you surprise even yourself with how fast you drop down to the ground before her, eagerly waiting for rhiannon to tell you what to do.

she keeps her eyes on you as she reaches to unbuckle her pants smoothly, pushing them down just past her knees. the sight that greets you is all the evidence you need that you’re not the only one affected by this: rhiannon is wet. impossibly wet. it might be the most turned on you’ve ever seen her, with slick sticking to her inner thigh, her underwear completely soaked through.

“what are you waiting for?” she asks, but the weapon in her hold is trembling.

that much, the order for you to put your mouth on her, you expect. yet, when you reach for her eagerly, the cold of metal pressing to your neck stops you midway.

“wait,” rhiannon instructs from above. you turn your gaze back up to her slowly, just as she drags the knife from your throat, up to your jaw, then carefully brushes it along your skin until she can force you to turn your whole face up at her with the blade against your chin.

“color?” she breathes, tilting her head as she waits.

“green.”

“good,” her knife stays in place, yet her other hand drops between her legs, causing you to nearly choke on a breath. your eyes drop and the blade’s press instantly becomes harder. “look at me.”

you gulp audibly, but do as you’re told.

“good-“ rhiannon begins, choking on a moan herself as she brushes her fingers over her clit. you can see it, a stolen glance when her head lulls back for a second; stiff and wet between her fingers as rhiannon rubs them back and forth. “fuck,”

obediently, though it’s hard, you keep your eyes on hers. you don’t even have to look to hear it when she pushes her fingers into herself. two, judging by the way her breath hitches. you know rhiannon’s body and the sounds she makes like the back of your hand; one finger wouldn’t be enough to draw any noise from her at this rate, three would’ve made her moan. so it’s two, it’s gotta be two.

rhiannon keeps this up for longer than you’d like: fucking herself right in front of you, pumping her fingers into her soaked cunt at a steady pace while she watches you with her knife against your skin, occasionally reminding you to keep looking at her when your hungry eyes drift lower.

only when her thighs start trembling and the hold on the weapon grows increasingly unsteady does she drop her arousal-stained fingers into your hair to harshly tuck you in.

“now,” she orders, moaning louder at the first touch of your tongue.

you hate that rhiannon has deprived you of this for so long, that she’s kept you waiting, only to use you for the very last moment. you whine pathetically at the first taste of her, sticking your tongue in deeper before closing your lips around her clit. she's still holding the knife, but you both know she doesn't need to: there's no way you'd stop now, too drunk on the taste of her pussy.

it doesn’t take her long to finish, though rhiannon reminds you of who’s in charge of her pleasure the moment you try to drag it out for longer than necessary: “don’t you dare,” she hisses, her white knuckle grip on the knife’s handle speaking for itself. “don’t you fucking dare!”

when rhiannon cums, her back arches from the brick wall and her mouth hangs open in a silent cry. she ruts against your tongue until she’s done, still letting out quiet sounds each time you brush your tongue against her throbbing clit.

she only drops her hand from the back of your head when she’s completely spent, her body shivering with the aftershocks of her release. the warmth of her skin is damp against yours, her breath still ragged as she leans against the wall for support.

“here,” she says breathlessly, holding out the knife to you. you instinctively reach out to take it, but before your fingers can graze the handle, she jerks her hand back with a sharp shake of her head. “not like that,”

confusion flickers through you, but it doesn’t take long to understand what she really wants. slowly, you part your lips, holding them open as her eyes gleam with approval.

“good,” rhiannon praises, clearly pleased, as she slides the knife between your front teeth. the cold metal rests against your lips, the weight of it oddly intimate. you stay perfectly still as she takes her time fixing her jeans. she tugs her zipper up, adjusts her waistband, and smooths down her shirt, all without breaking eye contact. when she’s satisfied, her hand brushes against your jaw as she retrieves the knife, her fingers grazing your skin in a fleeting but purposeful touch.

she leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “run again.”

rhiannon steps back just enough to give you space. “let me chase you,” she murmurs, her fingers spinning the knife idly between her hands. “make me earn it.”

and though your heart pounds in your chest, the idea of running, of feeling her pursuit, her hunger, her power, makes you hesitate just a moment longer, savoring the anticipation.

— a/n: guys that last line feels so season 3 shauna coded….might have to write a separate shauna fic at some point…also i’m so sorry 🪐 anon, i had the first half of this saved in my drafts for 3 whole months 😭😭

[rei-ismyname]

Jubilee reads Jean Grey's diary

It's Jean and Scott's wedding day and Jubilee is complaining that marriage is, like, totally bogus. Jean leaves to do ... something dress-related and the sneaky little shit reads her diary. I'd say 'don't read people's diaries' but I'm not sure I could help myself. I've only read diaries with permission before and it was juicy shit.

An entry from when Jean was at the mansion with Chuck to get help with her trauma and telepathy. The verdict - he seems okay. Her cursive is really good - or maybe it looks that way to me because I never learnt it.

Jean is doing a lot better now, and has come around on Chuck. Unsurprisingly, she feels immense gratitude towards him. Meanwhile, the old man is asleep by the fire. I wonder if this is stylisation for a visual medium or if Jean put these photos in her diary. Who took them if it's the latter?

The pair are doing some creeping on Cerebro and discover Scott Summers. Jean feels a profound connection and Chuck leaves Scott in a horrible situation for a few more years. Dude is mean mugging something fierce too, especially in contrast to Jean.

This is the day Jean returned to the mansion after the formation of the X-Men. She'd been with her family I guess, but now she's back and she has a crush on Scott. Slim Summers hehe

This entry is from the first time they fought Magneto, who is stylised closer to his 90s incarnation. The gist is that Scott is the best and has solid intuition. It's clear how young Jean is when writing this - the black and white morality of the 60s run is front and center - 'his evilness.'

The day Scott dropped the L bomb and Jean thinks he's 'the one.' Jubilee's commentary is pretty funny. 'The minute she scoped the old Scottdog it was loooove.' I kinda wish she called him that more often. I love Jubilee's slang and speech patterns - it's always had a slight 'how do you do fellow kids' vibe to it while being close enough to function as a time capsule.

This one is interesting because it's completely about the day she met Wolverine, which is not how I remember it. I wasn't there, nor am I a telepath, but Logan was a violent obnoxious asshole in Giant-Size X-Men and beyond. 'Gentle soul' sure. It's on the page, though, it just irks me that this is very obviously a way to centre Logan in Scott and Jean's relationship. After she'd gotten to know him? Sure. Day one? Less so. The diary never lies though.

Jubilee apologizes for dissing weddings/love and Jean doesn't really care. It's more a Jubilee moment than a Jean one. Definitely an interesting format for storytelling IMO.

[moonshine-nightlight]

So i just read Nothing's Wrong With Dale for the 4th time, and I just wanted to say thank you. I fucking love that story so much it's insane!!

I have a few questions that I keep thinking about of their life after the story ends. (Some of them are silly, sorry!)

1. Would you ever consider doing a sequel?

2. I feel like personally Dale would be an amazing father, but do you think they would ever have children in the future? If so, would they be half demon?

3. How would Dale react if another woman hit on him? I have a feeling he would be so oblivious at first.

4. What would Dale do if 'reader' is jealous of said woman?

5. What do you think would happen if someone in the 'readers' family accidentally found out?

Sorry if this is a lot, I'm just love this story so much! You are such a wonderful author 💜

Damn! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story enough re-read multiple times! That's so sweet!

i love questions about my stories, especially Dale! Since some answers will be spoiler-y and speculation, please see below :)

(Mild disclaimer: all of this is just speculation and half-baked ideas, nothing is canon because nothing is written etc even if i am the author. if anyone personally disagrees with any of this for their version of the reader and Dale--I fully support you)

I have considered it and while i do have ideas for some little spin off/side short stories, currently i don't plan for a full sequel. I just don't have a compelling idea for the overall plot/character ? Some of my bonus ideas are: POV story from Miss Adir&Mr Murray called "Peculiar Creatures" about reader and Dale; Dale hunting down Two; dale confronting the patrons of the assassination; a Midwife POV story; and a mini-romance story with Breighton and Teresa. I also do want to write more stories about different romances set in the Dale universe, with potential cameos by Dale and reader (each with at least 1 human and 1 demonic person).

Dale will certainly put his all into being a father. Not set in stone, but I think they'll have three kids and they are all part demon. If i ever was to write a full sequel it would probably combine some of the above short stories into one longer story covering readers pregnancy with their first born and the ramifications of a partially demon pregnancy lol while learning to take over Northridge. Dale felt very alone when he was young and so he'd put a lot of effort into making sure his child wouldn't feel that way--especially since the kid will be singular (no swarm) which Dale would see as very lonely. Both want multiple kids so that gets alleviated in time. They do have to be careful about letting Dale's grandparents around their children until they can control themselves lol

You're right, he likely wouldn't pick up on the nuance between "general manners" "sucking up to powerful people" "general flirt" and "flirting with him specifically". If he did notice, he'd be relatively polite but also ignore it or, if persistent, just leave to find the reader lol. If reader was there, he'd just be like "my lovely spouse" in greater and greater frequency/emphasis--like the other person is oblivious to the fact that he already has the best spouse.

I don't think reader would be jealous, they're married and stupid in love, but Dale'd probably just be confused if they were. Like, jealous of what? lol (I mostly find jealously fun to write/play with either before the couple is together or if its about non-romance things)

Reader's family finding out is a very interesting idea. It would definitely depend on who and when they find out. Callalily is the most protective so she'd be worried about the danger to the reader and generally everyone, not just violence but also manipulation. Douglas would be suspicious and wary and would need to interrogate Dale directly--fearing the reader being controlled in some way. He's seen the damage demons can do and takes it super seriously, but knows individual demons vary wildly. Marigold and Asher are both the most likely to hear the reader out and not jump to conclusions, for different reasons. They have more open minds and trust the reader to know themself/trust their judgement the most. All are more likely not to run screaming the longer they've known him/any children the couple has. The reader's parents would immediately tell everyone, they would have to be actively kept from spreading the word.

thanks for sending this ask and these questions in! It was a lot of fun to think about and share, especially since i hav basically no time for anything but work (which i should be doing now lol)

I'm always happy to talk about Dale ^^

[actualbampot]

im thinking Fallen Petals with #30 could be fun

One accidentally runs into the other(s) while… 30. At an anime convention

especially if Cinder's trying to keep her nerdy side a secret

('Accidentally'. P.s. this was so ridiculous to write lmao)

The idea of a convention floor filled with thousands of people embracing their childish hobbies, sporting garish costumes, and arm-fulls of overpriced merchandise. Cinder wondered how they didn't all feel ashamed.

When did they plan on taking things seriously? When were they going to-

"Grow up."

Cinder had clocked her at the start of the year, the girl with red hair staring at her from across class when she thought she wasn't looking. How she must have spent months mustering every bit of courage she had to hand Cinder a trembling flyer for one of those ridiculous anime conventions, dithering on the proposition like a badly rehersed speech.

Cinder watched as the rejection split the girl down the middle of those gunmetal eyes when she'd batted it out of her hand.

In hindsight, maybe Cinder had done too much growing up. Because, as it turned out: she really liked armor.

It helped that its construction wasn't dissimilar to creating clothing - something she was already adept at. Some of the patterning and panelling processes were skills easily transferrable from a time she made and mended her own clothes as a young girl.

But wearing it.

Morbid curiosity bred research, research morphed into hyperfixation, until Cinder's dorm room had been taken over with crafting supplies. She'd shelved everything else that week, rushing from her classes to make the most of the time before the convention that weekend (they called it 'con crunch', very befitting). What she had chosen to build hadn't been a difficult decision either, a quick search into what was currently trending dictating the design.

The convention crowds were shoulder to shoulder, brimming with excited energy that Cinder was convinced would exhaust her more than she already was. But she was completely encased, galvanised from head to toe in her mock-armor, the billow of a cape in her tailwinds.

Everybody looked on in awe, the tight crowds like a river parting around an immovable object, not daring to touch her. She thought she'd feel ridiculous, write off the day and drop the outfit in the bin on the way home.

But she felt pride. Creating something ambitious that wasn't just for function. It was for fun.

For effect, she hoisted her prop weapon on her shoulder, forgetting herself entirely. When the pictures started, they didn't stop.

From children to adults pointing out the character she had assumed for the day, all polite, welcoming excitement when Cinder mumbled something about it being her first time.

Eventually, she started counting the amount of steps she'd take before being asked for a picture, lost in the joy of it, until one very excited, very familiar voice reminded her why she was here in the first place:

"It's a Grimmdiver!"

Cinder had to turn completely - because that's what the helmet demanded - towards a familiar sight of red hair, and an offensively bright hoodie balanced by plain black jeans, and an assortment of silver chains dangling from her hip that matched the silver in her eyes.

Gone was the skittish hesitation Cinder had seen in class, erased by boundless excitement.

She liked it better when she smiled.

"Can- could I take a picture with you?"

Cinder's heartbeat changed pattern when the Red girl (Red, Cinder settled on) looked up at her in hopeful waiting, her scroll eagerly prepared in her hand.

What if she recognized her? How would she explain it? She wasn't sure how to explain it herself, this need to prove herself right- that this truly all was a waste of time. Or was she proving Red wrong? Her justifications had been lost along the way.

Cinder opted to simply nod, exaggerating the movement of her helmet to carry the affirmation. That fluttering in her breast pounded in her ears when Red rushed to her side, smile beaming brighter than the sun.

When Cinder felt the weight of Red's arm around her gauntlet, the heat in her helmet ramped to stifiling, quickly leaning in and matching Red's silly peace sign in the selfie camera before she could talk herself out of it.

"You look so cool! Thank you for the picture!"

And as quickly as it had happened, it was over.

Cinder hadn't counted on making it this far. She thought she'd be restless and bitter over wasting time with all of this by now. Maybe she would have been, without the armor supressing her apathy towards everyone around her. With it, Cinder could be anyone except herself. Someone that wasn't a disappointment.

"Hey, uh. Wait."

There was something very sweet about the way the smattering of freckles on Red's nose crinkled in confusion, bright-eyed and full of wonder.

"Oh. You're- you're a girl! Wow. Not that that's weird, I just don't know any girls that like Grimmdivers." Red's mouth moved so fast that Cinder thought she might take off like a rocket, all sickeningly infectious excitement. "It's all guys, they're horrible and yell at me because my loadout sucks and cant tell you how many times i've been told: 'make me a sandwich'- but you're...not one. You're like, a real Grimmdiver. Wow."

Cinder understood only a fraction of Red's wild gesturing, yet it burned an annoyed, jealous flame in her chest.

"I can think of a way I can help you back at them for such," Cinder gestured to Red's scroll, hoping the added bravado might hide her voice when she leaned closer to whisper, "un-democratic behaviour."

She didn't have to wonder if what she had said was incorrect, not when Red lit up the way she did, taking Cinder's armored glove to lead her through the crowds.

"I know a perfect place to take some pictures!"

[yell0wsalt]

Well--

[yardsards]

"they never dated but they ARE exes" is such a funny relationship for two characters to have. very awkward relationship to have irl tho