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comatosebunny09 · 6 months ago

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quixotic [ headcanon format ] | sylus

— summary: “i’ve never…hadsexbefore.” the words spill from your mouth, jumbled together like jigsaw pieces. regardless, sylus catches on, his expression morphing from surprise to fondness. “oh, sweetheart. where have you been?” — cw: female reader, virgin reader, sexual content, sylus implied to be older than canon, romantic dribble, terms of endearment, lowercase, language, mdni — notes: posting this here so that one, i stop obsessively editing it, and two, someone can bully me into finishing it. contributing to this fandom has become exhausting. also, i stole a line from fifty shades. sue me. as always, thank you so much for taking the time to read. — now playing: jade - monsune

your big brother’s wealthy best friend, sylus, makes love to you for the first time.

◦ it’s an adrenaline rush because no one, not even your brother, knows you two are an item—caleb would murder sylus if he knew his bestie was taking advantage of his little sis.

◦ one evening whilst you’re in sylus’ penthouse kissing, things get a little…intense. more than usual. more than the innocent pecks and fleeting touches you typically share.

◦ he’s touching you more reverently this time. drawing you into a languid kiss, pouring his desire for you into your mouth in the form of hoarse, pleasured groans. he smoothes his hands over the ridges of your rib cage, kneads your hips, massages your thighs. handles you like glass. like he’ll never see you again. like he’s waited lifetimes to have you like this.

◦ it all feels so very wonderful, and sylus has been nothing short of a gentleman since he started courting you. but you can’t focus on the kiss anymore because you foresee this going somewhere you’ve never been. his arousal slowly awakening, prodding the inner cut of your thigh, doesn’t help matters.

◦ you reluctantly push him away in the form of sweaty palms on broad shoulders, and he studies you, all smoldering eyes, peach-tinged cheeks, and kiss-swollen lips parted with the effort of panting.

◦ “what’s wrong?” he breathes, painting a hazy triangle between your eyes and mouth. worry hangs between his brows as he tucks some hair behind your ear, fingertips ghosting over your cheeks, jaw, neck.

◦ you chew your lip, averting your gaze from the intense, scarlet brew of his irises. the worn pad of his thumb skates over your chin, and he tilts your head back to coax you into looking his way. with his thumb, he tugs your lip free from the clench of your teeth, easing it over the sensitive, raw skin. the sensation sends jolts of electricity sparkling throughout your body.

◦ “don’t bite your lip,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your fevered skin. you have a feeling there’s more to his request than what’s presented at surface level. you nod slowly, your breaths intermingling whilst he ghosts his lips over yours. “talk to me. what’s the matter? did i misread things? push you too far?”

◦ “no, sy, it’s…you’re—you’re perfect, you’re fine, i just…i—fuck.”

◦ his thumb cruises over your chin, wordlessly encouraging you to continue, his arm draped around your waist, drawing you further into his lap until your chests push together.

◦ you resign yourself, releasing a weighted sigh. heat spikes through you, ending its excursion in your cheeks. “i’ve never…” you pause, swallowing as you fiddle with some errant strands of hair at his nape.

◦ “you’ve never—?”

◦ “i’ve never…hadsexbefore.” the words spill from your mouth, jumbled together like jigsaw pieces. regardless, sylus catches on, his expression morphing from surprise to fondness.

◦ he huffs a quiet laugh, cradling your cheek in his palm whilst he beholds you. “oh, sweetheart. where have you been?”

◦ something molten pools in your nether regions at that. his words, however harmless, sound like a challenge. and your body hums pleasantly with the prospect of giving yourself to the man of your dreams.

◦ he doesn’t take you that night, much to your disappointment. instead, he draws out the suspense over the span of a week, slowly killing you with anticipation.

◦ every touch is purposeful. every steady glide of his fingers over your arm, every brush of his lips against your cheek. you’re rigged to explode when the weekend comes, drawn to wit’s end when he finally invites you out for dinner.

◦ he’s a paragon of gentlemanliness. punctual when he picks you up from your apartment, holding the passenger door of his luxury car open for you to slip in, that devastatingly boyish smile slung over his lips. that natural charm is there, and if you weren’t already a stuttering mess of nerves, you would’ve been an amorphous blob by now.

◦ he makes small talk throughout the car ride, occasionally brushing his knuckles over your plush thigh or ghosting his fingers over the hollow of your shoulder under the guise of sweeping your hair back. he just smiles when you cut your eyes to him, knowing full well his intentions are anything but pure.

◦ dinner is wonderful. romantic. a rooftop, highbrow restaurant devoid of people—he values his privacy, and you’re grateful because you’re not much for social settings yourself.

◦ distant city lights twinkle like spilled bokeh behind him. powdery stars speckle the violet stratosphere overhead. you feel like you’re in a dream as a string quartet plays ambient music behind you, and the candlelight of the table’s centerpiece wavers, highlighting the sharp contours of sylus’ face.

◦ he makes you feel so comfortable. so cherished as you toy with your necklace, tittering at his dry humor and silly anecdotes.

◦ the waitress ensures your champagne flute stays topped off, and your body hums from the magic of the night and the bubbly, your cheeks burning and aching from laughing so much.

◦ sylus never misses an opportunity to feed you. gentle as he eases an hors d'oeuvre between your lips.

◦ you swear you’re being innocent when your tongue darts out to lick some sauce from the pad of his thumb. he stiffens, lips parting, eyes sliding into a mysterious shade of garnet whilst he scrutinizes your naughty, naughty little mouth.

◦ he gives you a warning look, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. ‘behave,’ he mouths when the waiter returns, and he tilts his head in a way that bleeds sin, eyes quietly challenging you.

◦ you catch him staring at you several times during the main course. when your gazes interlock, he merely chuckles, returning his attention to his plate until he can next steal a glimpse of your pretty face.

◦ dessert is sweet—raspberry pistachio tartlets drizzled with chocolate ganache that catches on the side of your mouth after sylus feeds one to you. you feign innocence with a shrug, your foot sliding between his legs, rubbing up and down a shin, wordlessly asking for some assistance.

◦ he doesn’t miss a beat, reaching over the table to swipe the sauce from your cheek. his eyes shine with danger. something predatory as he licks the chocolate clean from his thumb, a bitten-off groan pinched from his throat. all to taunt you as you earlier tempted him.

◦ you try to ignore how your thighs quake. how your heart works overtime, thrumming behind your ribcage, heat branching into your face. you concede with a sultry smile, and he sits back in an easy slouch, watching you with all the amusement of the world.

◦ you leave the restaurant after he pays, arms linked, twin smiles donning your faces, and your airy laughter intertwines with his husky chuckling.

◦ the ride back is tense, rife with your shaking tendons and shifting gaze.

◦ you’re swallowed by his coat in the passenger seat, the scent of his cologne enmeshed with his natural musk, turning your brain to smog. his hand swallows up the bulk of your thigh, searing through the frail material of your dress as it makes several expeditions up and down your quad.

◦ the music drifting from the speakers does little to assuage your nerves. you watch the streetlights whizz by, your forehead propped against the crisp window.

◦ you know what comes next—what you want to come next. but now, you’re more worried about underperforming for him than you are about losing your virginity.

◦ he’s been the epitome of romance. patient, adoring, slowly unwinding the coils of your nerves. you want to repay him for his kindness.

◦ “sweetie,” he summons, voice soft and disarming, mirroring his hand kneading your kneecap. “where did you run off to?”

◦ you smile sheepishly, glancing at him over the muted, blue glow of the center console. “nowhere.” you tangle your fingers with his in your lap, thumb tracing over the veins protruding in the back of his hand. “still here.”

◦ he spares you an unconvinced look before the iron-wrought gates of his complex slide into frame.

◦ sylus doesn’t let you touch the door once he’s parked, rounding the car to open it for you. he tucks you into his side, virile arm draped about your waist whilst he ushers you towards the elevator. the parking garage is empty. soundless, contrasting the maelstrom taking place in your mind.

◦ he lends you one of his shirts once you’ve showered, swathed in the expensive mahogany scent of his body wash. the sleeves spill past your fingertips, the shirt’s hem brushing your knees.

◦ he remarks how good you look in his clothes as he feeds one of the top buttons through its loop, fingers grazing your collarbone before his hand falls listlessly at his side. he’s helping you retain a modicum of modesty despite the ravenous simmer in his eyes as he takes your hand in his, drawing it to his lips to brand your knuckles with the searing glide of his lips.

◦ you spend what remains of the night on his sectional in the living room, your feet in his lap, the t.v. mindlessly flickering over your bodies. his hands are warm and reassuring as they knead through knots of tension in your ankles, the balls of your feet. you bite back a sound, wondering what else those hands are capable of.

◦ you’re brought back to reality when he flicks your forehead, filling your vision with the scarlet wash of his irises, and a humored, sultry cant to his lips. “what are you thinking about, hmm?” he husks, hovering over you, bracketing your body with his hands on either side of your waist.

◦ you swallow, unconsciously sinking beneath the warm might of his body into the cushions. you curl your fingers around the rigid lines of his forearms, legs instinctively parting, and you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, fixing him with a harmless smolder.

◦ sylus smirks, gaze softening. he picks up on your cue, slowly lowering himself until his hips are notched between your thighs. you exhale from the weight of him, fitting so perfectly between your legs like he’s always belonged there, his torso hard and defined as it presses up against your breasts. he leans down on his elbows, face panning in until his breath tickles your skin, and he ghosts his lips over yours, tempting you with the prospect of a kiss.

◦ “are you sure this is what you want?” he searches through your gaze, warring with himself. “are you sure i’m what you want?” the fragility in his voice makes your heart swell. always so considerate despite how his body radiates desire. you nod wordlessly, tangling your fingers in the delicate hairs at his nape. and you pitch yourself forward to conquer the space between your mouths, sealing any further words of protest in his throat.

◦ he catches himself on his palms before he can barrel into you. but he lets you ravage his mouth, humming something low and appreciative betwixt your lips when your tongue finds his.

#sylus x you #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #sylus smut #lads sylus #virgin reader #loss of virginity trope

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pegging-satan · 5 months ago

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Ok girls today I’m not feeling sane about Zayne and Caleb let’s fucking gooooo

MDNI

Imagine them catching you with a... special toy to feel good because he was busy and you were desperate :(

Tags: MDNI pls. just smut. Inappropriate usage of evol, inappropriate usage of weapons, pissed off Zayne, mean Caleb, edging for Zayne, some cnc towards the end for Caleb, temperature play, gun play, impact play, (Zayne is kinda ooc w that,) Caleb is scary, not proofread 🤪

a/n: this is my first smut so like yay? Ig? i have major brain worms for these men so here is my contribution to this fandom. i'm so obsessed with Colonel Caleb omg.

Visuals <3 • <3

Zayne walks in on you, cheeks flushed, legs spread, body shaking, heat radiating from every inch of your skin. Your eyes are closed focusing all your attention to that one spot. Slowly building up, ultimately making your walls spasm under the satisfying vibrations.

You have no idea he just walked in, too busy chasing your high, and he is now watching you; amused and jealous. How dare his warm tongue be replaced with a cold silicone toy. How dare it. He still watches you as you writhe and shake as you come undone, part of him a little turned on.

As you’re coming down from your high, eyes still closed, he speaks. His tone ice cold, in that deadpan monotone which sent shivers down your spine this time, as it was filled with barely contained…. Something.

“Well hello to you too” he says, not smiling. You are mortified. Oh, he’s pissed.

“Z— Zayne… I thought you were going to be busy today so I th—“

“Save your explanations for some other time.” He cuts you off. Oh, he’s pissed. And oh, it’s so hot. You wait for what he’s going to do next, and to your surprise, joy and terror, he’s taking off his shirt. He comes over to you, a fire in his eyes, a look of betrayal, and a hint of anger.

“You wouldn’t wait for me?” He said, again ice cold.

“No, it’s not th—“ you’re cut off by his large hand cupping your face, not so gently squeezing your cheeks together, rendering you unable to speak.

“I expected better from you, you know” he says his tone unchanged. His hand going to cup your jaw, putting a little pressure on your throat making you a little light headed.

“Since you like cold things between your legs so much,” he scoffs and materialises an icicle. Your skin is so hot you can almost hear it sizzle and the vast temperature difference makes you squeal and squirm. He rubs it between your slick, sticky folds making them wetter, the coldness of it in contrast to your body temperature short circuiting your brain.

You try to wriggle out, but then all of a sudden you feel ice cold restraints around your wrists, binding your arms to the headboard, and around the ankles spreading your legs out to expose you completely. So many juxtaposing sensations in your body making you shiver and burn up, it’s so confusing but you can’t help but enjoy it

Zayne runs his icy hands over your body, pinching and groping at your soft, plush skin. The grip around your neck tightens and you feel faint everything is blurry. He materializes an ice cube and runs it down your neck, to your chest, circling around your sensitive peaks, making you hiss and squirm.

He runs it down your stomach right between your legs, placing it directly where you need it he just keeps it there, making you squirm and cry but he does not care. This is your punishment.

You can feel yourself going numb, and you beg for forgiveness, but he doesn’t stop till he’s satisfied. He’s a doctor after all, he knows best. He knows the best way to punish you is to take away how you feel pleasure, even if it’s temporary.

He slides the icicle in you, watching it melt from your heat. Sadistic, vengeful. It’s too much to handle, you need to feel something, anything. desperately. With all the strength you can gather, you mumble out

“Hit me, please”

he raises an eyebrow, and a cruel smile plays in his lips. You didn’t know this side of him existed, and oh my goodness, was it hot.

“What did you say?” He says amused, wanting you to repeat yourself.

“Hit me Zayne. I’m serious I can’t feel anything, hit me”

He releases his hold on your neck, and you gasp for air. He traces a couple small circles on your cheek, before a hard smack lands on your cheek. The sting of it sends electricity through your body, and before you know it there’s another sting on your other cheek. Your face now going red, as he grips your face to look at him, the look on his face unreadable, his gaze burning holes through you.

You feel some sensation returning to your previously numb parts, and you can see him look increasingly more needy. With essentially the go-ahead to manhandle you, his large hands roam around your body, roughly playing with your chest, and he dips between your legs, deeply inhaling your scent before giving you a little lick making you shudder.

But your punishment is far from over. He takes the toy now discarded to the side and turns it back on.

“Isn’t this what you wanted hm?” He asks mockingly

“No, no I want you, I want you please, please” you say, no, beg. But you were the one who made this mistake, unfortunately. He ignores you, despite how desperately he wants to be in you, and places it between your legs, vibrating at the highest setting.

“And don’t you dare cum because of this thing” he warns, knowing full well it’s a battle you’d lose. And he’d enjoy watching you lose, looking at you with pitiful eyes, oh you helpless little creature, can’t help yourself can you, look at that, so pathetic.

He sits there, looking at you, using his evol to strap you in place so you can’t even squirm. It’s cold and it’s hard and it’s hard for you to not cum and he’s enjoying watching you struggle.

He keeps you there for god knows how long, drawing them out much to your disappointment and his amusement. The waterproof bedsheet is so soaked that liquid’s dripping down onto the floor and he’s showing no signs of stopping. You’re a crying, sobbing mess, you didn’t even know it was possible to cum this much and he hadn’t even entered you.

“Didn’t know there was such an easy replacement for me” he says mocking you as you cry even more. He’s enjoying this, what the hell, might as well give him more. You cry some more, beg some more, and ultimately he goes

“Aww, what’s the matter, love? You want me?” You nod in affirmative.

“Too bad, I just got a text, I’m needed at the hospital, urgently”

And he just leaves you there, restraints still on, and all you can do is just wait for them to melt away before you can move.

—————————— .•*•. ——————————

bonus visuals <3 • <3 • <3 • <3 • <3

“I see I’m not enough to satisfy you, pipsqueak” you hear the voice. You turn your head to look at him, and to your horror, he’s standing there with the hot pink ahem, toy in his hand.

“Caleb! You weren’t supposed to find that!” Embarrassed, you rush to take it from him and he holds it above his head so it’s impossible for you to reach it.

“Caleb!” You muse. He’s unrelenting. In fact, he’s quite enjoying this.

“Mind explaining why?”

“I get lonely when you’re not there” you say pouting.

“Aww pipsqueak but I’m here now aren’t I? I don’t think you’ll be needing this thing for a while. Or… I can use this on you”

“You what” you ask now a little scared. You see a dark look flash across his features, a very extremely subtle shift in demeanour, that made him go from the golden retriever childhood best friend to the cold and cruel Farspace Colonel.

“Actually, no. I have a couple of my own toys I’d like to use on you” he says darkly, the sweet, kind Caleb gone, replaced by the authoritative, commanding officer.

“Sit” he commands. You freeze, and since you’re taking too long to obey he makes you sit using his evol. Your hands feel as if there’s a thousand pounds of weight on them and you can’t move. He returns with a bag, his bag. His… arsenal.

One by one he starts pulling out his guns.

And placing them on to the bed.

You look at him in horror, having put two and two together, and strangely, it was making you wet as hell.

“Caleb are you—“

“Put some damn respect to my name” he cuts you off coldly. Why was it so hot? Why was Farspace Colonel Caleb so fucking hot? He was demanding, he was possessive and he was mean. So mean. So. Fucking. Hot.

You were already feeling hot and bothered the moment that personality came out, where golden retriever Caleb made you feel safe, this Caleb turned you on so goddamn much, hell, he made you cum with his words alone this one time.

Your heart’s beating with anticipation as he finishes laying down all his weapons, shiny, cold, pristine.

“I suppose you get the idea what toys I was talking about, pipsqueak” the nickname now spoken in a condescending tone, his expression stern and resolute.

“Cal— Colonel” you said your voice shaky, you were curious but also scared.

“What’s the matter pipsqueak? Scared are you?” He says, a sly smirk on his face watching your scared expression.

“A little bit yes”

“It’ll be over before you know it.” It would not. There were five guns on the bed right now, and knowing him, he would make you cum on each and every one of them at least twice. And the knives? God, how would he even use them on you?

“It’s time I showed my little girl how to play with some real toys” he says darkly. Still having you bound to the bed with his evol, the sounds of the gun in his hand clicking as he emptied the magazine and unloaded it.

“I just cleaned them recently. Now I must bathe them in your essence. For luck, of course.”

He comes closer to you, you’re still sitting there unable to move. He kisses your neck trailing kisses down to your shoulders and collarbone. He has one of his knives in his hand, which he scrapes down your neck, to your shirt, the blade is so sharp it rips the straining fabric around your chest, freeing them from the confines of your shirt.

“Mmm…” he murmurs as he buries his face between your tits, inhaling your scent deeply, squeezing, biting, sucking, making you hiss.

He tosses the knife to the side and reaches for one of the formidable weapons. It’s so hard and thick, you don’t even know how you’ll take that but he spreads your legs for you, hiking up your skirt and rubbing the cold metal tip on your heat through the wet fabric, slowly, teasingly.

You quiver and moan, but he will continue going at his pace no matter what you do. You feel his fingers sliding the thin fabric of your underwear to the side, spreading your folds, now sticky with slick, and teases you with the cold tip yet again. He continues sliding the weapon up and down the soaking slit now, enjoying the way it collected in the grooves of the gun.

“You sure are wet for someone who was terrified a few minutes ago” he remarks looking at your face, flushed and dazed. He knows you’re in not position to speak right now, so he doesn’t give you a chance to either. And pushes the metal tip into your entrance, eliciting a gasp from you. He pushes it in deeper, until it’s all the way in til the base of the handle.

“Look at this hungry little thing, swallowing cold metal like it’s my cock” he scoffs. “So greedy”

You whine as he pulls it out, and gasp when he pushes it back in. As he starts pumping, your mind starts going hazy as he fucks you with his gun, the wet squelching sounds echoing in the room, it’s so fucking debauched and you can’t believe he’s doing this, and then suddenly he stops.

“Ride it” he commands

You obey, swaying your hips chasing your pleasure, riding a god damn gun that your childhood best friend— no, a Farspace Colonel was holding, whispering filthy things in your ear as you chased your high.

He had stopped using his evol on you long ago, this was getting too much for him, oh so fun for him. He grabbed the back of your neck and slammed you down on to your pillows, back arching, keeping your face pinned to the pillows as he continued his ruthless assault on you.

“So. Fucking. Greedy.” He said between slaps to your ass. Each one making you squeal and drip down the gun.

“Didn’t know my little pipsqueak was a freak like this” he said his tone flat and amused.

“Come on, cum for me like a good fucking girl” he says slapping your ass one more time, and as if on cue, you’re gushing around the not so cold metal.

“Fucking beautiful” he says as he pulls it out, a couple strings of slick connecting the weapon to you. He brings it up to his face and deeply inhales the scent before licking up your juices from the base to the tip all while making steaming eye contact with you. The sight damn well sent you near the edge again, it was so fucking hot.

“Hope you’re not too spent, pipsqueak. We have four more guns to go”

You nod, dazed.

“I’m not stopping even if you pass out, baby”

You nod again accepting it.

It was going to be a long night.

#zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #zayne smut #caleb smut #lads smut #god gun play is so fkn hot #gun play #twitter links #p links #love and deepspace smut

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strawberryraviegutz · 5 months ago

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Ngl it’s hella weird that so many ppl are being extremely sex negative/anti BDSM(not sure if it’s even actual BDSM but idk)about the new banner and even going as far as to compare it to sexual assault…

You can dislike something without shaming/making fun of ppl who’re excited about it along without contributing to purity culture, misogyny/internalized misogyny, and cringe culture.

Since Day 1 Love and Deepspace has always been for women and or afabs to explore their sexualities in a world where women/afabs seeking out anything sexual(or even romantic)whether it be in fiction or irl is seen as taboo, dirty/filthy/unclean, and or shameful. Especially within parts of Asia.

Men are allowed to get straight up hentai tattoos and no one says anything but whenever women/afabs have crushes on/simp for/selfship with fictional characters and or consumes nsfw content of them then we’ve “gone too far” or, “are so delusional/cringe” and get told that we’re mentally ill as an insult and that we should “go to therapy/get help” because of our “parasocial relationships with fictional characters”(and over a period tracking feature within the game out of all things..)

It’s important now more than ever to have more media like this to be created as to lessen the stigma around female sexuality. ESPECIALLY with everything that’s going on in the US right now. Shaming women and or shaming other female/afab fans for enjoying this stuff only contributes more to the problem. You’re not inherently better than anyone for not being into the type of things others may like.

“Infold is mischacterizing-”

First of all idk where yall got that from they seem the same to me, just with more different personality traits/changes added. Plus that’s the point of an Alternate Universe/Reality. AUs are different than the universes we know. Also THEY MADE AND OWN THE CHARACTERS.

There’s a difference between something just not being your thing and contributing to misogyny towards women/afabs in fandom spaces. Just because you’re not into/don’t like something doesn’t mean it’s “not normal” for others to celebrate Valentine’s Day like this. I swear women/afabs can’t do anything without you mouthbreathers demonizing us and saying that we’re inherently predatory/unsafe to be around for thirsting over/selfshipping with fictional characters.

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bjornsmuse · 1 month ago

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Desperation isn’t a good look on you

A/n: I keep making shitty ass short one shots like this and i apologise but this is my contribution to the fandom😭🙏

Warnings: 18+ slight smut, dirty talk, remmick being a desperate looser, submissive remmick, remmick being a down bad little FREAK, talks about Masturbation, degrading kink, dom!reader kind off?, manipulation, stalking, humiliation kink KIND off?, remmick literally cums in his own pants.

Two whole months- every single night just after sun down, he has shown up- grovelling at your front door, begging you to let him in as if he was a stray dog kicked out of its home and left in the rain. You hadn’t let him in at all since the first night he knocked on your door you thought it was strange- but when he kept coming back nightly and seeming more and more desperate to get in? You put the pieces together pretty quickly.

It was around eight in the night when you heard footsteps coming up the steps of your porch- you already knew it was him- so you waited a good two minutes and when you opened the door?.. there he was again, on his knees on your porch, shirt open to the navel, chest streaked with dirt and dried blood, curls stuck to his temples.

“I beg you,” he rasped, voice thick, Irish lilt breaking through the Southern drag like cracked glass. “Sweet girl… please. I can’t feed, I can’t think, can’t do anything without you..Let me in.” He practically whines it- in the most pathetic way you have ever heard. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout you,” he murmurs, teeth clenched. “The way you looked that night when i first saw you, with the moonlight on your neck, like—fuck, like a lamb waitin’ for the blade.”

“You got no shame,” you said flatly “A man on his knees every night, whinin’ for a woman who don’t want him. You think you’re still a man, Remmick? Or just some dog beggin’ for scraps?” You scoff with disgust- looking down at him like he was a peice of dirt under your shoes.

He let out a ragged breath- His pupils were blown wide, lips parted, fangs just barely visible- he practically rutted his hips into the floor of the porch “God,” he choked “Say it again. Say somethin’ filthy to me, I’ll get on my belly like the dog you say I am.”

That made your stomach twist, not with fear — but with dark, terrible want. “You’re a filthy little thing,” you said with a slight sneer “So fuckin’ desperate for me, you’d crawl in the dirt just to be near me.” His eyes rolled back, hips rocking forward again, and he whimpered. “Say more,” he gasped “Please. Tell me I’m beneath you. Tell me I’m nothin’. Y’know i can’t touch m’self without seein’ your face. Ain’t that somethin’?” He sputters out desperately while looking you dead in the eyes.

“You really are pathetic,” you finally said once again, your voice laced with contempt but also a sick sort of pleasure from seeing a man this desperate. “You come crawling to my doorstep every damn night like a dog in heat. You think I don’t see the way you stare? Drooling. Desperate. Filthy. You’re nothin’ but a fuckin’ disgrace, Remmick,” you whispered- Remmick instantly came in his pants on the spot, rutting into the porch floor once again with a groan that was more of a whimper.

you just scoffed at him and closed the door without another word in a disgusted manner..but deep down? You were so very proud of yourself for making him that desperate and a part of you liked the feeling of someone wanting you that much.

#remmick sinners #jack o'connell #remmick x reader #sinners 2025 #remmick x you

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blackynsupremacy · 7 months ago

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ARE WE STILL

FRIENDS?

pairing: smallville!clark kent x black!fem!reader

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

summary: as a junior at smallville high, you’re known as many things: captain of the girl’s basketball team, straight a-student, a bit of a tomboy, and the younger sister of pete ross by three minutes. as twins, you share many things, including your childhood best friend, clark kent. prom is nearing soon and you’re both dateless, so you and clark agree to arrive together as friends. after the view of a yellow dress, a slow dance, and a moment in the photo booth, you start to doubt if you’ll both leave the same way you came.

a/n: you can imagine jeremy as whoever you want.

contains: lots of words. fluff, brother’s best friend trope, reader is pete’s twin sister, reader knows, angst, mild swearing, arguing, friends to lovers, kissing/making out, hurt/comfort, love confession, clana is broken up, jealousy, betrayal.

a/n: finally another clark fic! anybody got ideas for tsay chapter 5? i want it to be action packed fr.

taglist: @afrogirl3005 @rosiestalez @paisholotus @sabrinasopposite @stereotypicalbarbie @ellethespaceunicorn @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @thabiddie23 @sheydnni @tryingtograspctrl @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @camiesully @supaprettyg

“come on, kent! is that all you got?”

you were taunting him as he tried to guard you from making the winning shot of your one v. one basketball game on kent farm. clark kent may have been six-foot-four with a strapping athletic build, but he wasn’t the captain of smallville high’s lady crows basketball team. due to your skill, leadership, and strategy, your girls have had an undefeated season so far. you continue to dribble and swiftly turn around to catch clark off guard before you jump to shoot the basketball which dove perfectly within the net. clark exasperatedly chuckles while you break down into an enthusiastic shimmy of a victory dance. your twin brother, pete ross, shook his head with a smirk after observing clark’s defeat. you both knew that for an exceptional farm boy that hailed from another planet couldn’t even school you on the court, had to mean something was off. in these playful competitions, you’ve had your fair share of wins with clark, but also definitely some losses. with a slow clap of his hands, pete approached clark to pat him on the back in playful sympathy,

“damn. it looks like you’ve lost your mojo, clark.” he quipped.

you and clark playfully roll your eyes. you sauntered to your brother and flick him in the forehead before you sassily chimed in,

“boy, shut up! you do realize that even clark can lose to me, right?”

“hey—ow! i’m just saying. clark, could’ve super sped around you and easily taken that shot.” he yelped in pain. clark chuckled before contributing to the conversation,

“first of all, pete, that would be cheating. second, my focus has been everywhere with prom coming up this weekend. you’re still going with me, aren’t you, pete?”

clark stretched his arms and you didn’t miss the slight flex of the bulging biceps he possessed. you always thought he was attractive, smart, and overall the perfect candidate for a boyfriend, but there was already so many complications entailed in that. first, there was the principle that he was your friend and your brother’s best friend. you basically grew up together, so you always thought lines like that should never be crossed no matter how much your heart desired for him at times. second, there was lana lang, clark’s first love. lana and clark’s relationship was complicated as well. one minute they’re together in perfect loving bliss, then the next, it’s back to being friends. this time, they were back to friend zone for a long while. lana was a friend of yours along with chloe. it was odd being tight with girls you knew had feelings for the same guy as you, but somehow, you try not to let that cause a rift between you. plus, you’re starting to develop a new crush on this guy named, jeremy ford. he was a senior and the captain of the boy’s basketball team. you’ve had opportunities where you would practice with him one on one after school and hang out at the talon occasionally to share strategies to help out your teams. he was handsome, athletic, funny, popular, and a scholar, so you’ve figured that he would be perfect as your date to the prom. when you get the chance this week, you were finally going to ask him. lastly, there was the fact that you knew clark’s secret along with your brother.

you’ve never forgotten that shift in your friendship with clark after finding that ship in his shed. it all made sense on how he was able to get to places so fast and subdue the people who were powered by those damned green rocks. pete already had to deal with clark having the attention of chloe and him being friends with their long-time family enemy, lex luthor. it was such a shock to you, but unlike those others who had powers and abused them, you knew that clark only wanted to use his abilities for good. to clark’s relief, you were quicker to forgive and swear to secrecy than your brother who eventually came around.

“thanks, y/n. i knew i could count on you to understand.” clark said when you visited him in loft the night after finding out. “at least you can consider yourself the first girl to know—besides my mom, of course!” he’d joke and for some reason that made you feel special.

now, your bond was stronger as you had to show that he was still the boy you called a good friend whose ass you’d occasionally kick in some hoops, but another part of you knew that things could be riskier than before with all of the bizarre occurrences of smallville.

“about that—” pete hesitantly stated, rubbing the back of his neck. “teresa campbell asked me last week, man. i know that ever since you and lana split, we’d make it a stag night, but we can all still go as a group. as far as i know, it could be me, you, teresa, and y/n.” he explained cringing a bit at the look of slight disappointment on clark’s face. you were a bit peeved that pete had sideswiped clark like that and that he assumed you were dateless. well, you were, but just because you were twins didn’t mean he fully knew you and your plans.

“it’s no worries, man. we can all still have a great time. right, y/n?” clark inquired, shifting his blue eyes on figure and he bounced the basketball in your direction.

“yeah, but, whose to say i didn’t already have a date, pete? we may be twins, but i don’t have to tell you everything.” you rebutted with a sharp glare towards your brother, catching the ball and placing it on your hip. pete threw his hands up in surrender,

“now, hold up, n/n. the last time i checked you never mentioned him, okay? look, i’m sorry for assuming. who’d you have in mind?”

your bashfully shift your eyes between the two awaiting males before you answer,

“uh,— jeremy ford.”

you were a bit shocked as there was a pause of silence. like there was something you didn’t know. you sighed ready for whatever was about to come,

“what is it now?”

clark held onto your shoulders and turned you to face him to deliver the news in the most gentle, but direct manner possible.

“y/n, lana is going to prom with jeremy.”

you stood there in silence, trying to register the words that were spoken to you. maybe this was sick prank the guys were playing on you to hurt your already bruised ego.

“what? psh, no way. lana would’ve told me.” you deny, dismissing what you thought was a ludacris claim.

pete shook his head and crossed his arms before serving the explanation of the knowledge. given the fact they lived together, lana had told chloe that jeremy had been hanging around late at the talon after you’d leave. eventually, he and lana got to know each other and before they knew it, lana agreed to jeremy’s proposal of prom. then chloe passed the news on to clark and pete. as an aspiring journalist, chloe was going to get it straight from a reliable source, so it all had to be true.

chloe and lana knew for a fact that you had a crush on him and they’d tease you to just go for it, but you’d always dismiss them with the excuse of focusing on your studies to achieve a full-ride athletic scholarship. plus, you’ve never really had that much dating experience to begin with, so it was all a bit of a mess. pete and clark could see the dark cloud of hurt loom over your face. there was a stabbing, tingling pain within your gut. you thought that you and jeremy would be the perfect match. you both shared the same goals and interests, how could you have missed the signs of lost chances? what else were you expecting? lana had already dated clark, but no human nor alien had control over their feelings. it would’ve hurt a little less if lana gave you a head’s up. possibly she was afraid of how you would’ve react or affected your friendship. you never wanted to be the type of girl to end friendships over a crush anyway.

“n/n, say something. are you oka—” clark began to question, but you sharply cut him off.

“i’m fine, clark. lana and jeremy can do what they want, it’s not like he was my boyfriend or anything. what about you? lana is your ex.” clark watched in silence as you tried to play it off so cool, but it didn’t take his x-ray vision to see that you were crushed on the inside. he believed you didn’t deserve this at all. you’ve always been a great friend to him and lana. sometimes, you’d give him advice or a listening ear whenever there was a conflict weighing on him. you were the type of person that gave their all. you gave your all in your sport, teammates, academics, family, and friends. who was giving something back to you?

without another word, you looked at your watch and turned to your brother,

“it’s about time we head home, pete. mom will be calling if we don’t make it in time for dinner.— see you at school, clark?” you bid him a goodbye with a tight lipped smile and a side hug before placing the basketball back in his arms. you cross your arms and make your way into the passenger seat of pete’s car. the boys give each other a silent knowing glance and a casual dap of farewell before pete follows suit to drive you both back home. during dinner, your parents, abigail and bill ross, noticed that you weren’t your usual talkative self due to your obvious lack of appetite and dry responses to their questions about your day. when your mother mentioned the prom, you promptly asked to be excused to your bedroom, so that you could “study”. you wrapped up your plate, placed it in the fridge, and took your leave. once in your room, you didn’t waste time in plopping yourself into your bed. you bury your face into your pillow to muffle your sobs of agony. romance looked so good in the movies you’ve watched, but why did it have to hurt so bad in reality?

you lay on your side, facing the large, purple stuffed bear that sat on your other pillow. you sat up and smiled at it fondly. you picked it up and gave it a tight squeeze. clark had won it for you at the smallville harvest festival during your freshman year. it was one of those carnival games where you had to get three basketball shots in a row. you were just a rookie on the team and you were struggling because you wanted that bear so badly. clark happened to be there to watch the whole thing and like a superboy, he swooped in and made those three shots. there was a jovial glint within his baby blue eyes as he observed you spinning with the bear in your arms like a little child. you were so happy that you thought you could kiss him that day. clark simply saw you in a jam and was kind enough to help. that was when you started developing feelings. even though he was your brother’s best friend, you’d grown to see him as a prince charming of sorts. he had his flaws, but he always found a way to make it up somehow. your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. it was his voice.

“there’s that smile i like to see.” you quickly wiped away your tears and whipped your head in his direction. there was clark kent, casually leaning against your door frame

“clark! uh, hey. what are you doing here? look, if you need to see pete, i think he’s in the den playing that game—” you try to explain, but he interrupted as he took his body away from the door and approached closer to your bed.

“actually, i came by to see you, y/n. may i?” you nod, acknowledging his request to sit on your bed. you nod, scooting over to make room and he proceeds to sit at your side. you gaze at his side profile. his perfectly fine nose, sculpted jawline, and who could miss the subtle pout in his naturally pink lips. now, his eyes met yours. the melanated skin of your cheeks begin to heat up the longer he held eye contact. there was an air of silence in the room. you were both deciding who should be the first to speak amidst this high school prom drama. clark then glanced at the stuffed bear in your arms, he tried not to blush as he was surprised that you kept it all of these years. he noticed how you held onto it with such a tight grip as if someone were to take it away at any moment. how wholesome he found that to be. a lopsided smile played on his lips as he spoke,

“you still kept that bear after all these years?”

you sniffled with a bashful chuckle,

“yeah, it seems so embarrassing. i’m pushing eighteen, but it’s my favorite thing—well, besides my backstreet boys t-shirt.” you both fill the room with soft laughter, enjoying each other’s presence.

“no, no. not embarrassing. it’s humiliating, actually—hey, ahaha!” clark jokes in which that earns him a couple whacks in the head from your pillow. your stomach cramps as you dissolve into laughter again,

“god, you’re such an ass! you just love to ruin the moment.” you giggle, trying to catch your breath. you place the pillow to its original spot. clark flashes his pearly canines and leans back onto your bed.

“as long as i get to see you cry tears of joy instead of sadness, i’d gladly do it again.” he responds, gingerly reaching a hand towards your face to swipe a loose tear with his thumb. your cheeks heat up again as your stomach flips from his touch.

“i know today wasn’t exactly the greatest, but it’s good to hear you laugh, y/n.”

your own lopsided grin graces your features before you shift your gaze to the bear,

“i appreciate it, clark. you’re always swooping in to save the day, whether it’d be meteor freaks or teenage heartbreak.”

there was another beat of silence. before practically speeding to the ross house, clark couldn’t erase the image of your somber expression from his mind. this was everyone’s first prom and even though clark didn’t get the chance to go with lana, he didn’t want to experience it on a sour note. now that you were down in the dumps, he definitely didn’t want you to have that same feeling. he didn’t want you to look back on such a significant event with disdain, so he came over and took his chance.

“y/n, would you go to prom with me—as my date?”

upon hearing his question, you froze for a second before peering at the farm boy beside you. you were in a tough spot, sure, but you didn’t want to be his pity date, no matter how much you liked him.

“what?! clark—i know i seemed pretty tight about the jeremy thing, but i don’t want your pity. we can just go as a group of friends with pete and teresa. just like he planned.” you protested, but clark took ahold of your hands as the expression of sincerity etched on his face.

“y/n, please, just hear me out,” he urged, caressing his thumbs along your hands. “i promise you, it’s not pity. i genuinely want to spend time with you and i want us to enjoy our first prom.” you fell silent as your gaze softened while listening to his plea, “we could make it one of the best nights of our lives, even if it’s just for a little while—besides, who better to go to prom with than the best victory dancer i know?”

yet again, he flashed his contagious smile that you’ve silently adored for years as a twinkle danced within his eyes. you pondered on this impromptu proposal. clark had a point, this was going to be your first prom, an awaited moment in most teenaged girls lives that they would look back on in the future. you wanted to have a good time regardless of the jeremy situation. plus, if you accept, you’d have a date with your longtime crush! your brother’s best friend of all people. you were going as friends of course, but you couldn’t imagine this moment with anyone else. what could possibly go wrong? a smile you couldn’t contain plays on your full lips as your brown eyes matched his gaze before you finally said,

“you know what? i’d love to clark!”

“you would? really?”

“yes. we’ll come in together as friends, let loose, and bust a move or two.” you answer already envisioning the pleasant evening ahead. “why? do you want me to take back my answer?” you jokingly quiz with an arched brow.

“oh, n-no, no! i’m actually really glad you said yes.” he protested with relief washing over his features.

“then it’s a date, kent!” you take one of your hands to rest it on his shoulder before placing a brief kiss upon his cheek before you whisper, “you got super speed, so don’t i expect you to be late.”

clark’s cheeks flushed with the red shade of excitement from your touch. he surely didn’t expect that from you, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“well, in that case, i’ll pick you up at seven, ross.”

clark bids you goodnight and you could hardly sleep with the knowledge of this upcoming weekend. the very next morning at the breakfast table, your parents are ecstatic to learn the news of your plans for prom, especially your mother. you both enthusiastically converse, conjuring up ideas of a dress, shoes, accessories, makeup, and hair. she helps to make the necessary appointments for the days leading up to it. while at school, you decided to stick around to clark, pete, or fly solo rather than you usually did with chloe and lana. you would be cordial when you see them in the hallway, but before they could talk about prom, you’d find a way to promptly excuse yourself. the last thing you wanted to hear was anything about lana and jeremy. you didn’t want to hear the conversation as if they didn’t know that you know.

“i gotta go. i have a meeting with my coach.”

“can’t. i don’t wanna be late for class!”

even when jeremy tried to catch you in the hallway. you’d gave him the same energy,

“i can’t go to the talon today, jere. i have an appointment after school.”

“i think i’ll just practice solo today.”

with each passing day after school, your mother had taken you shopping to find the dress that was perfectly made for you along with getting a well deserved mani-pedi and an eyebrow wax. she would just help with hair and makeup on the day of. your mother doted on you every step of the way. you couldn’t forget how you had to ask the dress shop employee for kleenex because she was going to burst into tears when saw you in the dress you’ve chosen. you were shocked because this was abigail ross, the no nonsense county judge of smallville that fights for justice with an iron fist. you weren’t really big on dresses in general, but for this occasion with clark, you wanted him to see that you were more than pete’s twin.

the early evening of prom makes its presence known. throughout the entire day, your stomach rumbles with an immense amount of anxiety and piquancy. you burst out into a song while taking your shower, a soft muffled hum fills the bathroom when you brush your teeth. as your mother helps you to get ready, she affirms your beauty with each dab and blend of the cosmetics applied to your face. her gifted hands gingerly work through the coiled tresses of your dark hair in the desired style that you’ve seen one of your favorite singers sport in a magazine. as if it were like a cinderella-esque transformation, your final look was completed once you’ve donned your dress, jewelry, and heels. it was finally time for one of the best nights of your life.

clark stands at the front door of the ross house. he’s not sure how many times he’s been fidgeting with his black bow tie or glancing down at the freshly arranged corsage within the plastic container, but he knows one thing for a fact.

he was nervous.

he’s been looking forward to this all week. it was a casual plan set up by two friends, but why did he feel like he was going to mess everything up? were things going to change between you and him like how it did with him and lana? or him and chloe? he was psyching himself out, but he needed to swallow whatever doubt he had and just enjoy this like a somewhat normal teenager would, especially with someone he enjoyed spending time with. with a steady hand, his knuckles raise to knock on the front door to which pete answers within seconds. they perform their casual greeting with a hello and a dap.

“hey, clark! you’re right on time. i see you styling with the corsage.” pete joked to which clark chuckled as he invited clark to step in the living room.

“i’d sure hate to disappoint your sister, so thanks! it’s still cool with you that she’s my date, right?” clark questioned, a trace of timidity within his voice. when he first told pete about being your date, he’d surely thought his friend would tell him off by crossing that boundary. to clark’s surprise, pete took the news well.

“yeah, man! she’s been looking forward to this all week. besides, you’re going as friends, so it’s not anything that i’m worried about. my mom’s up there with her now, so she should be down in a few.” pete replied, standing coolly with his hands tucked in his pockets.

they compliment each other on their respective ensembles before clark’s eyes peruses the room. his sensitive ears pick up on the sound of the bustling, grating voices of the other ross brothers who had came to visit to see the twins off for their first prom. mark, mike, and sam along with your father all hurry to the living room to greet clark with more daps and hugs as if clark were their own. it seemed that every ross had made an appearance, all except for you. abigail hurriedly came down the staircase. she frantically waved her hands to signal for the men to keep their voices down as you were about to make your grand entrance. she turns to clark with an elated expression,

“clark, i’m so glad you’ve made it. she’s all done and ready.” your mother pauses, turning her head up to the staircase to call out your name.

“honey, clark’s here! let’s see you, so you don’t be late!”

after a sixty second beat of silence, the sound of your heels reverberated through the air as you descended from the staircase. every head turned in your direction. clark’s soft blue gaze didn’t dare to pull away as you reached the bottom of the steps. you were front and center. you were the belle of the ball. he stared in awe with his mouth slightly agape as you wore a lemon, satin maxi dress that accentuated the warm toned glow of your brown skin. it had a heavy hearted cut in the front while it exposed the skin of your back like a halter top. the garment complimented your figure perfectly and matched with the golden hoop earrings your mother let you borrow. the soft makeup that was applied to your features made each of them stand out. the sleek mascara, shimmering eyeshadow and the luminous pink gloss painted on your pouty lips made you look like you’ve walked out of a magazine. even though you received the warm gazes and compliments of your parents and brothers, you were still awaiting for what clark had to say. he only stood there staring at you as if he were trying to silently analyze a piece in an art museum. he looked so dashing in the sleek, noir tux that he wore. his physique had grown to be bulkier over the years, so you certainly didn’t miss the toned outline of his body. you gave him your full attention as he softly called out your name. you spectated as he deliberately approached you. his adam’s apple bobbed within his throat and he gulped, so that he didn’t fumble over what he had to say because he meant the next words that escaped from his mouth,

“you’re so beautiful.” he proclaims, to which your family coos. he easily opens the plastic container that withheld the corsage and holds his palm out for you place your wrist in. there was a certain spark that you weren’t sure that both of you felt when his fingers brushed against your skin as he slid the floral accessory on your wrist. his soft grip on your wrist lingered as you know that he can hear your heart racing within your chest, but he’d never call you out because he didn’t want to embarrass you. with the widest smile you reply with a tone of gratitude,

“thank you, clark! you look handsome as always.” his expression matches yours and he thanks you for the compliment before your mother urges you both to pose for some pictures. after some photographs and a wise talk of safety, you all bid your family goodbye. pete had to leave to go pick up teresa in his car, so it was only fair that you’d ride with clark. with your hand wrapped around clark’s bicep, he leads you to the faithful, red pickup truck that you’ve ridden in on several occasions, but now you look at it as your awaiting chariot while clark opens the passenger side for you to sit and safely buckle in.

after a brisk ride of small talk, wise cracking, and car karaoke, he pulls into the student parking lot where students who were dressed to impress were flooding towards the entrance to get into the gym. you sat there hesitantly, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. at the sound, clark turns his eyes to the glowing profile of your fretting countenance. he can already tell that you’re internally freaking out. you haven’t really talked to lana nor jeremy all week and now what were you going to do if you ran into them? you couldn’t make too many excuses to avoid them in this situation. with a gentle hand, clark reaches over to intertwine your fingers together.

“hey—look at me.” his tenor voice softly urges. you reluctantly look at the signature benevolent, blue gaze of your best friend. you hate how weak it makes you when clark holds such intense eye contact, he means business.

“you’re going to have a great time, y/n. whatever worry is going on in your head right now, forget about it just for tonight. would you do that for me?”

“that’s not fair, clark. you know i’d do anything for you.” you both dissolve into a fit of laughter. when it dies down, you squeeze onto his hand and unbuckle your seatbelt before turning to him again, “what are you waiting for, kent? you said i was gonna have a great time, so show me a great time.”

with a grin of anticipation on his lips, he briefly releases your hand to exit the drivers’ seat and open the passenger in which your hand is instantly reunited with his. you both stroll together through the entrance, down the hallway, and into the wide, dark gym that was illuminated by colorful lights, the pumped up bass of the music playing through the stereo, and the multitude of conversations between your classmates. your brown eyes darted around the area. you see there was some tables, a couple of them were filled with concessions. there was even a line forming for what seemed to be a photo booth, in which you keep a mental note for it because you want a stab at it before you go.

most of their talking is ceased when they saw you two walking arm in arm, their eyes observed you two in awe the further you both stepped in. at first, you were starting to feel awkward under the several pairs of eyes on you. were these looks also varying in curiosity? admiration? envy? they expected clark to clean up well, but as for you, they were stunned to see the tomboyish basketball captain pop out as if she was tyra banks. although he didn’t want to seem too arrogant, clark experienced a mix of satisfaction and jealousy from the attention you were getting, especially from some of the guys. especially from jeremy, who was at first enthusiastically conversing with lana until he saw what all the commotion was about: you. piqued, jeremy peered at you from across the room as you were caught off guard when clark instinctively, yet smoothly snaked an arm around your waist to bring you closer.

“it’s okay. they’re just experiencing true beauty for the first time, it’s a very common reaction.” he wittily said with a cheeky smile. with a heated face, you looked at your friend, still convincing yourself of his status in your life, that just blatantly called you beautiful again. was this real life? he even clung to you as if one of these dudes would sweep you away. you were sure, he would instantly approach lana at the mere sight of her.

within a minute or two, pete and his date, teresa, meet you guys at the side of the dance floor. you instantly hit it off with your brother’s date as you two enthusiastically compliment each other on your dresses and engage in small girl talk. clark felt lucky that he had the prettiest girl on his arm tonight. he wasn’t sure why, but that was all he could he see you as right now. not the athlete, nor his best friend’s sister. he just saw you, y/n ross, in her element. the more he carried on in casual conversation with you, the more drawn in he seemed to be by your presence. it warmed his heart to be called your friend or — so he thought. it was all coming together when the upbeat tempo of the music shifted to something that presented an opportunity for you and clark to know each other better like you haven’t before.

the iconic opening notes of the piano from des’ree’s “kissing you” began to fill the room as couples swiftly gather together to the dance floor. when you listen to the songstress’ soprano voice, the butterflies in your stomach are frolicking when you see clark’s open palm before you. you loved this song. it was from the soundtrack of romeo + juliet, film about a forbidden love, a line crossed. why were you having these thoughts? you were just friends, it would just be a dance. nothing less, nothing more.

“may i have this dance? out of the many abilities i have, two left feet isn’t one of them, so i got you.” he lightly smiles, awaiting for your answer. he attentively watches as you rub your glossed lips together, a habit of your nervousness. you turn to him. in this moment, there was no thought of lana, nor jeremy. there was no thought of heartbreak, and certainly no inhibitions. without hesitation, you grasp his hand before meeting his gaze.

“you may, just don’t step on my toes. this pedicure wasn’t cheap!” you whisper with soft laughter following from you both before he leads you to the dance floor. when you find your place, his eyes don’t leave yours when he takes your hands to rest on his broad shoulders while his rest on your waist. his thumbs barely graze against the exposed skin of your back as his feet lead you both to sway so easily to the orchestral sound of the ballad. the world outside fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence. you find solace as you feel the soft press of his hands on your waist, the comforting weight of his fingers resting just above the curve of your hips. your fingers wrap a little tighter around his neck to the point where your fingertips graze against the nape where part of his dark curls flawlessly cascade. you’re not tripping, there’s an undeniable electricity between you when your bodies absentmindedly draw closer while you continue to engage in this “platonic” dance.

“you sure you can keep up?” clark teases, a playful glint in his eyes, breaking the silence as you sway together. the light catches his pearly smile, his pristine canines illuminating from the way he looks at you—as if you were more than what you’ve always seemed to be in his life. you giggle, feeling the deliberate rhythm pull you even closer.

“boy, please. if i can break your ankles on the court, i can have you twirling like a ballerina on this dance floor, trust.” you saucily yet softly quip, your heartbeat growing as the vocal riffs of des’ree grow more passionate. with each step on the floor, clark guides you effortlessly, his movements confident yet unhurried, as if savoring every moment like it’s the last dance of the night. more like the last night of your lives.

“alright, n/n, just don’t get too dizzy on me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you were sure he could feel the goosebumps forming on your skin. you’re so sprung in the sway of his words and the gentle pulse of the music, the outside world completely forgotten. he even takes the opportunity to release one of your hands from his shoulder to smoothly spin you around at the bridge. when you come back, your body is flush against his. you’re basically heart to heart at this point. you don’t even notice the speculating eyes that burned into you. you don’t even notice the look of realization that dawned upon clark, lana, and pete: you were obviously in love with clark kent and it wasn’t just now. it’s been brewing within your heart for years. the weight of reality seems to dissipate, leaving behind only the two of you and this connection beyond friendship that felt so real. his powder blue gaze locked on yours, an unspoken spark flickering between you.

“you know,” he begins, his voice lowers as if he just wanted you to hear what he had to say. like your own little secret, “i’d never thought that finding ourselves dancing like this would feel so—perfect. like out of a movie or something.”

you tilt your head slightly, the air between you shifted as you reply softly, “it really does, doesn’t it? plus, i love this song. it’s from one of my favorite movies.” his thumbs brush against your bare back, igniting a warmth that spreads through your absolute everything. he gulps, getting himself together for what he’s about to say next,

“between you and me—i’d either rewind to this part over and over, or i wouldn’t want the movie to end at all.”

the pale skin of clark’s face paint with a shade of crimson as you lose yourselves in each other’s eyes, the last notes of the song begin to fade. you find yourselves leaning in closer and closer. was this actually happening? in front of lana? in front of your brother? were you both going to—reality creeps back in, the echo of the final chord concludes this ethereal moment. yet, in that fleeting instant, it feels as if time has stood still—if only for a little while. as the final note lingers in the air. you pull back slightly, just enough to read the mixture of emotions in his eyes—surprise, contentment, and something deeper lurking beneath the surface. you clear your throat and join in the applause of the crowd of students when the music instantly reverts back to the vibe of something upbeat to rock with. you clark retire yourselves to sit at one of the empty tables as you were complaining about your feet hurting from the heels you’ve been wearing. being the gentleman that he was, he helps to release your ailing feet from the shoes before venturing off to use the restroom and get some refreshments from the concession table.

while you were occupied massaging your feet, you now feel the presence of two beings sit at each side of you. you just assume it’s your brother coming to rag on you.

“pete, if you’re here to rub in my face about how i shouldn’t have worn heels this high, i will literally bop you with one.” you sass, still looking down until hear familiar feminine chuckles.

“if that’s the case, then i wouldn’t dare to say a word!” you know that quick and precise wit to be none other than your friend, chloe sullivan. you froze and turn your head to see her sitting on your right with lana lang on your left. they both looked radiant in their evening gowns as if they were contestants in a beauty pageant, especially lana. your mood starts to shift once you remembered why you avoided them in the first place. you were praying to god that clark could use his kryptonian speed to rescue you from this awkward situation.

“hey, guys. long time, no see.” you neutrally greet as you place the heels back on.

“long time, no see indeed. it feels like you haven’t had the time to be around us lately—we miss you!” lana mentioned, placing a manicured hand on your knee. what gives her the right to touch you after what she’s done. you were gonna keep your cool because clark should be back any minute now.

“yeah, i’ve just been working to get this full-ride and trying to get ready for tonight. i never knew how much time that would take.” you quip, earning a chuckle from both of the girls.

“well, it looks like it all paid off— you look beautiful!” chloe says flashing her pearly smile, a twinkle within her green eyes as lana nods in agreement. although you were peeved with them, you couldn’t help, but to smile at her compliment.

“i appreciate it, guys. ya’ll look great, too.”

there was a few beats of silence, lana finally removes her hand from your knee and twiddles with her fingers. with the clearing of her throat, she addresses the elephant in the room,

“so—um, it looks like you came with clark tonight. how did your brother take that?” you shoot her a side glance and lean back within your seat, glancing at the corsage on your wrist.

“pete’s cool with it. clark and i just happened to be dateless and he asked me to go with him. we’re just here as friends, of course.” you shrug.

“oh really, now?” she further questioned.

after the slow dance, all three of you found it bit hard to believe when you brought that up. something in lana faltered when she heard that clark had asked you. there was that pressure weighing in her stomach and chest, when she swallowed it felt like there was a lump. her hands gripped onto the fabric of her dress as she was trying to keep her facial expression as normal as possible. you didn’t miss the trace of jealousy within her hazel gaze. if that’s how she wanted to do this, you were about to go in for the kill.

“mhm. sorta like how i’m cool with you going with jeremy ford.”

lana furrowed her brows in confusion at your statement.

“what’s that supposed to mean, y/n?”

“lana, let’s not play games. i’ve told you about my crush on him, you tell me that i should go for him, but then here you are, on his arm here tonight! what’s crazier is that i had to find out from clark and pete.” you comment cutting your gaze over at chloe, letting her know that she wasn’t out of the woods for her role in this disaster.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know that i had to tell you every single that happens in my life. especially in who i date. besides, he was the only one who asked me and i just went along with it because neither of you never made a move!” lana made a valid point, but the mystery was why didn’t she just give you a head’s up, so you still combatted her claim.

“lana. i don’t give a damn about who you date because obviously you didn’t when you and clark got together, knowing that chloe and i had feelings for him. it hurt us, yes, but you were decent enough to say it to our faces because our friendship mattered. i’m not even sure if that’s true now because this time, you just told chloe. i get that she’s roommate, but why? why couldn’t tell me—

“because i didn’t want you telling clark that i’ve moved on so quickly, okay? i’m not exactly over him and he didn’t ask me, so i felt that i didn’t have a choice.” the word vomit spews after she you cuts off. you all take a beat of silence before she continues,

“i’ve seen how close you two have been getting. i-i don’t know what it is, but suddenly he’s like an open book when he’s around you. even when we were together, on and off, he’d never be that way with me, so i guess i didn’t tell you because i was afraid you’d run off and tell him in a heartbeat. i-i guess i went out with jeremy and didn’t tell you because i was—”

it was now your turn to cut her off.

“jealous?”

conceding, lana silently nodded. it’s amazing how she was so quick to call clark a coward back in the past and pressure him for a truth she wasn’t sure she could even handle, but now look at her. being secretive all because of her obsession with clark exposing himself as who he truly is while they were together.

“wow, so i guess that dance really burned you up. didn’t it, lana? now you see what happens when you’re not completely honest with people who you claim to be their friend.” you sharply retort, venom in your tone.

“y/n, i’m—” she started to speak, but stopped as she did a double take to the male in question heading in your direction. speak of the devil—well, alien in your case. as if his timing weren’t perfect enough, clark had finally appeared with two cups of punch along with two decorated cupcakes. your favorite dessert.

“i hope i didn’t keep you waiting that long, y/n. there was a long line for the both bathroom and the snacks.” he chuckled as his eyes took notice of his friends, but he felt there was something that went down between you. there was a tension and the vibe wasn’t very pleasant.

“lana, chloe hey!” he cordially greets them both while handing you the refreshments. he grins as your facial expression softens in contentment at the sight of the delicacies, you thank him as you take it into your hands. he makes small talk with lana and chloe, asking them if they’re enjoying the event in which they respond with a “yes” and “mhm” as they nod. it was only a matter of time before what you were worrying about came to fruition. although you were glad at his presence, he could see that you were clearly uncomfortable with the girls sitting at your sides. clark kent guaranteed a good night for both of you, so he had to do what he had to do.

“i’d hate to intrude, but you guys mind if i sat with y/n? i believe i owe her some quality time back for being away for so long.” he requests, awaiting for the girls departure. as soon as lana and chloe heard the words, “quality time”, they instantly acknowledged that he wanted to sit with you, alone. after witnessing what happened, chloe saw it in their best interest if they did leave you and clark alone. no matter how much lana wanted to stay, she still had jeremy to entertain for the night.

“that’s no problem! we were actually just leaving.” with that, chloe stood and took lana’s arm, whisking them both to the other side of the gym before lana could say another word. clark took the seat that chloe had sat in, he peered over to see you happily, but silently indulging in the cupcake. although he didn’t want to ruin the vibe, he still had a hunch and questioned you about what happened previously in his absence.

“hey—are you okay? it looked like you wanted to get out of there.” it was sweet of him to check in on you so you just gave it to him straight.

“yeah, i’ll be fine, clark. lana and i had a fight. it was obviously about jeremy and—” you paused, gazing in his direction, “other things, but i don’t wanna talk about it now. i’m still gonna have a good night with you.” you glance over to the area where the photo-booth station is. “it looks like the line at the photo-booth is slowing down. let’s get a picture after i’m done.”

“yeah, sure! i’m up for that it’s gonna be fun.” he enthusiastically nods, agreeing to the next step.

“you gonna eat that?” you question gesturing to the cupcake that was still in his hand. you had this habit where he would have a morsel of food and you would always ask if he would finish it. no matter what, clark would always give it to you and this was no different. with a chuckle, he gave in. you didn’t notice that some icing had spread to the corner of your lip, but he did.

“hey, hold still. you got something right—” he paused, using his hand to guide your chin, so that you could be face to face. with a gentle swipe of his thumb, the icing disappears. “there.” he finishes, “don’t want anything to spoil our photo op, now would we?” you both erupt in giggles. after serving him a thank you, you both refresh with some punch and make your way to the short line of the photo booth. you two carry on in casual conversation as the first two couples go in, do their thing, and come out leaving with one strip of about five photos. it was now your turn to go in the rectangular booth. it was a bit of a squeeze. given clark’s tall stature. there was a bench, but it looked like it could only hold one person once clark sat down. you inwardly thought a “bless his heart” as his body almost took up the whole bench. still standing, you giggle when he’s about to push the “start” button and you both see a ten second countdown presented on the screen.

“clark! how are we supposed to take pictures when i can’t even sit down? now, i only have five seconds.”

he gazed at you and simply patted his leg, suggesting you’d sit there. you frantically shake your head, quickly declining his offer. you weren’t sure if you should cross that line in this tight space with the your brother’s best friend.

“i know it may look weird to you, but we literally don’t have time. i’m good with it, so c’mon!” he urges, laughing.

“clark, no!” you resist not containing your own chuckles. you’re hysterical as he grasps your wrist and pulls your body to his, so that you were sitting upon his leg. you both look at the direction of the screen count to one and then you hear the first click as it captured your giggling faces. another timer starts when you shift to a normal pose of you wrapping an arm around his shoulder and his around your waist. you both promptly smile for the second time. at the third click, he’s gazing at your profile smiling while you stick your tongue out while throwing up a peace sign. at the fourth, you look over at him to match the never ceasing eye contact which the camera captures. as the timer starts for the final photo, your head is spinning as your senses are all over the place. within these last ten seconds, you look down at his rose red lips while his arm pulls you in closer on his lap. you free hand goes on a journey to reach for his jawline where your fingers graze against the sharp edge of the bone before stopping to completely hold his face. clark leans forward, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. your awaiting lips barely ghosting over one another. both of your eyes shut as you pass the point of no return. at the final click, it captures the moment of you and clark kent, tenderly kissing each other for the first time. you’re both lost in the kiss between you lingers for a few more seconds before you open your eyes and the realization of what you’re doing dawns on you.

what the hell just happened?

as if you inherited kryptonian speed, you shoot up from your place on clark’s lap and hastily walk out of the gym towards the back exit. without wasting time, clark called out for you in protest snd was swift enough to collect your photo strip and jog in the direction of where you left. when you pushed open the door, you stood with your back against the brick wall as you let the hot tears cascade down your brown cheeks. you didn’t care if your mascara was running, what were you thinking? you loved the kiss, you loved clark. it was obvious that he was enjoying it as much as you did, but did it hold that same sentiment for him as it did for you? you cross your arms, scolding yourself for being such a hypocrite. you just told lana off for going out with a guy you liked while you, her trusted friend, kissed her ex-boyfriend. you weren’t having a good night and it all seemed so screwed up now.

you sob quietly and stop when you hear the door creak open to reveal clark. he softly calls your name and attempts to reach out to you, but you turn from him and wipe away at your face.

“clark, w-we shouldn’t have done that! we should not have done that.” you reiterate, and start to ramble after you turn to face him again, “clark, what about pete? what’s he gonna say if he finds out? it was already hard enough when you told us about your secret, but i don’t want you to lose him as a friend because of me. i don’t want to lose you because i love you and our friendship too much for that to happen.” silently, he looks down at and you pause, sobbing out your confession.

“you want to know why lana didn’t tell me about jeremy? she’s mad because of how close we’re getting. she’s mad because i know a part of you that she doesn’t, clark— and you know what? i love how close we’ve been getting. i love that you can be honest with me without holding back. i love that you can come to me about the issues with your family. i love that you use your abilities to help and protect others, including me. now i don’t blame her for getting jealous because—” you stop to take his hands within your own and stare straight into his eyes, finally mustering up the courage to say, “i love you, clark. i love you so much. alien or not, it’ll never change how i’ve felt about you. you may think it all you want, but you’re not a monster and you’re not a freak of nature. you’re you. that’s why i’ll always be there for you the best that i can, clark. whether you feel the same way or not.”

clark’s heart raced as he absorbed your words, the weight of your recent confession hanging thick in the air as you wait for an answer, any sign for how he felt. he felt a warmth spread through him, his mind trailing back through memories of late-night conversations, stolen glances, and moments filled with unspoken understanding between you two.

“i-i…don’t know what to say,” he finally uttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“then show me, clark.” you softly urged with a firmness not daring to break eye contact, “you either stay or leave. you make the call.”

deep inside him, something stirred—a realization that had been hiding deep in the shadows of his heart that’s been there all along. as he looked into your brown eyes, the intensity of your gaze opened something within. so gingerly, he stepped closer, his breath hitching as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. “y/n, i—i want to stay. i want to give you the chance that you deserve because you’ve always been there for me and you just get me. you’re the only girl i can truly be myself with and when you said that you don’t see me as a freak, it only confirmed what i’ve been feeling.”

he gulped, his gaze softening upon your figure as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat before concluding his statement,

“what if i showed you—that i believe what we did in the photo-booth wasn’t a mistake?”

“oh, clark.” you sigh out in resolve before placing your hands on his shoulders, promptly leaning in, and finally closing the distance of your lips for the second time. the first time was gentle, magical, and tender. this kiss however, had more desperation and your movements more fervent. he backed himself up against the wall, naturally guiding you closer, so your bodies were connected. he snakes his arms securely around your waist while your lips move in sync with each other. you lean your head back, sighing as he holds your jaw to sensually entrap your full bottom lip within his. if you wanted to know the feeling of being drunk, this, right here, had to be the epitome of it when you took the bold step of swirling your tongue around his. a hum vibrates deep from his chest and into your mouth when he plays along. this was it—no more doubt, no more guarding your hearts against the unknowns of what you could be together.

while you were lost in each other, lana lang had wanted to find you so, she could hopefully talk things out with you after the confrontation. she left jeremy behind and stepped out of the gym, trying seeking you amidst the crowd before going outside and around to the back of the school. ever so stealthily, her steps faltered as she caught sight of you, her friend, and clark, her ex, caught in the rapture of the most passionate of kisses. she didn’t dare to utter a word nor spoil the moment with an outburst. she didn’t want to ruin things than they already were between you. feeling a mixed pang of hurt, anger, jealousy and defeat, the last thread of hope snapped inside her. with the sting of her watering hazel eyes, she turned back to quietly retreat and find chloe, so they could immediately go home. now, she was leaving behind the remnants of what could have been between her and clark, while you and him are unaware of the heartbreak left lingering in the night.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 months ago

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🎉 Thank You for 10k+ Followers!! 🎉

A big thank you goes out to @cozymochi for this beautiful celebratory commissioned artwork for this major milestone ✨ It really captures the scope of all the content that had been put out in the last 4+ years—both in terms of official Twst materials and on this blog! I think it’s very fitting that we hit this milestone in the month of Halloween too (I just held off on posting this til the month after); it’s Twst’s biggest holiday of the year, so it’s twice the cause for celebration!!

A lot has happened over the course of my time in this fandom. I’ve written many things of course, but I’ve also had many other exciting opportunities! I’ve been interviewed for a paper, met many cool people from all over the world, attended Twst meetups + events, collaborated with other talented creators, received kind gifts, contributed to various fandom projects, and finished telling the origins of my Twst OC. This blog has been with me through a lot of major changes and difficult hurdles in my life too—it’s really been an anchor for me, a comforting and safe space for me to be creative or analytical whenever I want to be.

When I first started this blog as a very casual hobby in summer of 2020, I never even considered that it would balloon to this extent. It still doesn’t feel totally real to me 😭 I don’t usually fixate on numbers (they make me anxious), but looking back on it, 10k is a LOT, and 4 years is a long time. To put that in perspective, if we were in Twisted Wonderland for 4 years then all of the students we’ve come to know and love would have graduated by now. That’s crazy to me. We’ve come so far as a group.

I feel that a large part of fandom is the community that comes with it. I would have found it so challenging to stick with Twst had I not had so many great people keeping me engaged with it. I’d now like to take a moment to thank those folks. Keeping in line with the idea of “4 years”, think of these as little messages scrawled in a yearbook. I also have a blog event planned to celebrate! More on that later.

Please note that I’ve used pseudonyms for most of the following people, as I’d like to respect their privacy (I’m very private myself) + not all of them are comfortable with being explicitly named or tagged to a large crowd. You’ll know who you are if you see yourself on here.

Without further ado:

MSS — Thank you for being the first Twst space I felt truly a part of. It’s still the place I consider my fandom “home” beyond this blog.

April — Thank you for making MSS as a place for us to share! We’re tsunderes in solidarity.

Drinking Knight — The banners wouldn’t exist without your help. Thanks for getting the ball rolling on those; I’d like to think that I’m a little more confident in designing new ones myself now, but you were the start of it all. Your endless enthusiasm for the most insane otome boys, drinks, and bullying (positive) others is truly an inspiration.

Q. Opinionated — Can’t count the number of times you ran tech support for me 💀 Thanks so much for being patient and willing to laugh at a stupid situation. I WILL grip you (escape is not an option) 🤲

Dad with his Printer — Why are you so cheeky My unofficial proofreader and fact checker. Still treasure the teeny J word and coffin magnets you sent, and, even more valuable than those, the bad dad jokes/puns advice and wisdom you give. Wishing you luck on your art adventure.

A. Cider — An unexpected friend I met very late into the fandom and happened to run into irl by total coincidence. Funny how life works. Your shitposts are great, and I appreciate having a like-minded person to talk with about the J words and story critiques. I’d also like to thank you for the many little doodles you’ve made; I know you’re very busy and have a wife to tend to at home but I appreciate that you still make time for friends.

Hana — Extroverted pink-haired magical girl representation. Your bubbly love for Disney, Diasomnia, singing, and (yes) angst lights up the entire room. Maybe you’re not too confident with yourself are right now, but I know you’ll find your way.

Swan — For being quick on the uptake and giving me the heads up about various things! We may not talk much one-on-one, but I’m thinking of you and enjoy seeing you pitch into the conversation. You’re still banned for L*ona posting though/j

Ly — My secret French twin/j Thanks for being my cultural + equine advisor and a voice of (salty) reason. Never shut up about your hyperfixations! You’re a real one.

Oys — Enabler + encourager of my Yan!Sil delusions. Sorry for making your blood pressure spike every time we talk about our food takes. But hey, at least we get a good laugh out of it :))

Mac and Bean — For being my inspirations. Bean, you have such atmospheric writing. I hope my writing style can be just as magical as yours. Mac, it was your blog that first got me into starting my own Twst writing. You never stop being so, so funny also I blame you 120% for the L*ona rot.

Peaches and Cream — To my local Twst friends, thanks for keeping me company even through the hard times. Peaches, happy to be your local Twst dealer anytime. Cream, thanks for hooking me up with new books.

Salt and Flora — I don’t know where you vanished to, but the sea brought you back to me on its tides. I’m so happy we could meet again. Salt, you’re so talented at crochet and design work; get your coin 😂 Flora, you’re the sweetest person ever. Literally cottagecore personified, even in your art.

Piano — We don’t always see eye to eye, but thank you for being my serial debater and showing me new perspectives. Your open-minded theories and analyses are such fun. And, of course, it’s always hilarious to think about how we accidentally (?) swapped oshis 🤡 You’re a star.

The Anklebiter — For having the most unhinged jokes and ideas. Seriously, THE most unhinged. I never do any of the crazy things you suggest but I’m always really entertained from just hearing them.

Te, Mi, and Ro — Thanks for organizing local events and giving me an excuse to touch grass. It’s a lot of hard work and you guys manage to pull it off every time! Mi, I was flattered to have you reach out to me to help a little with the Tweel cupsleeve event. Happy to help anytime! Te, I remember you were cosplaying as Kalim when we first met and I kept thinking about how perfectly suited you are for the role. You were very friendly and made such an effort to include everyone in the event even when I was Idia-ing in the corner. To this day, you continue to spontaneously introduce me to new people 😂 Thanks for getting me put of my comfort zone. Ro, I didn’t think we’d meet again like this. Small world! You’re learning and improving the big events. Here’s hoping to many more!

Vic — For being Ace Trappola when very few others would. It’s refreshing to have someone tell it like it is. I wish I could be as bold and as honest as you are sometimes. You have such a big heart when it comes to the characters you love; it makes me want to adore them like you do too 🫶

Kana — For being so sweet and patient. You helped me through so many rough patches and have also contributed a lot to the look of the blog. It’s so fun gushing with you about magical girls and pretty boys, sharing our favorite shows and movies… I feel as though I’ve made a lifelong friend.

Zari — Thank you for charms and art book, big fan of your stuff 😭 So honored to have worked with you on projects too. I hope to see a lot more of your Yuu and other OCs around, I love following them ^^

Lala — You understand, encourage, and validate my weird tastes in fictional men 💕 Really admire your sense of fashion and stylish nails too. Whenever I have my shrimp apron on, I think of you.

Arisu — No longer in the Twst fandom but integral in the earliest days. Wherever you are now, I wish you nothing but happiness.

P-san — You’re a lifesaver!! Thank you so much for helping me find cute little outfits and accessories for my plushies… They are forever grateful to be properly clothed.

V, Fa, Fe, Ray, Rea, Sonny, Glimmer Group, and Incognito Crew — Thanks for being so supportive of my hyperfixation on Disney villain anime boys, even if you guys have NO clue what I’m rambling about half of the time. To V specifically 🫵 I am NOT a cat boy kisser

Mango — I didn’t know I wanted you in my life until you showed up uninvited one day and chewed your way into my heart.

Azul Ashengrotto — For being the character that first convinced me into giving this game a shot. The Little Mermaid was something I always held so dear to me, so it almost seems like destiny that you’d be the one to drag me down into Twst. You’ll always hold a special place in my heart for that, even if my feelings have changed since then.

Rook Hunt — For being there when I needed to laugh a little. It’s scary to glance over my shoulder sometimes, but you make it easier to smile as I look back.

Rollo Flamme — For letting me know that having negative feelings is normal and human, even if we don’t always cope with them in the healthiest of ways. Let’s reflect and be better together!

Leona Kingscholar — For showing me that change and personal growth is, in fact, possible. Th-This doesn’t mean I like you or anything though, so get off your high horse—

Jade Leech — For taking my hand and guiding me back on the path when I got lost in the dark. Whatever crimes you may commit in your free time, I forgive you/j

Miss Raven Crowley — The little black bird who could, the blog muse. I made you on a whim and look at where you are now… You went from a background character to the main character of your own story. So proud of you, my child 😭

Asset compilers, fan artists, fanfic writers, fan translators, cosplayers, merch makers, editors, plushie pic takers, video essayists, theorizers, etc. — You’re all so important to keeping the fandom alive, especially during periods of official content drought. It wouldn’t be feasible for me to list out all of the content creators I enjoy (chjsbsksks and it honestly might be awkward since I haven’t directly interacted with most of them), but I hope that this message still reaches you and finds you well. Keep doing your thing; I love seeing the work you put out ^^

Anyone and everyone that I’ve ever commissioned and/or received fan works from — I appreciate that you took time and energy out of your day to create something for me. There’s so much talent in the Twst fandom and I’m honored that you would dedicate some of that to a silly little birb.

You, the Readers — For supporting this blog and and what I do here! You’re an important part of my journey too.

Thank you!! Here’s to a future unknown and a page unwritten.

- The Writing Raven

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #milestone #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley #not my work #Leona Kingscholar #Jade Leech #commissioned art #Azul Ashengrotto #Rook Hunt

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