#I'm losing my mind it doesn't feel real that I just did this. I'm gonna miss this show so bad

[pisshandkerchief]

I'll probably have more photos later but for now everyone look at this shot someone got of me during Rose Tint My World. just look at it. Holy shit

[storywriter007]

can you do a “fighting for the first time” preference/headcannons with the HoO boys ? i love ur work!!

Fighting for the First Time - HoO Boys x Fem!Reader

author's note: thank you for the request!! and i'm so glad you like my work, this literally made my day. this is what i feel like first fights (non-quest related) would go but add your ideas in the comments!!

genre: angst ending in fluff

word count: 1.5k but it's all in bullet points

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

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percy jackson

the first time you guys seriously fight, it goes one of two ways

either a.) he doesn't care about who's right and just wants things to go back to normal or b.) he thinks he's right

option a is the preferred option

he tries to talk to you, finding you whenever and wherever

he refuses to leave until the problem is sorted out

and he is upset the entire duration of the fight

he apologizes for anything

"i'm sorry if i did anything at all to hurt you" kind of apology

option a fights would be over things like unintentionally hurting each-other

like accidentally saying something mean or sparring too roughly with each-other

or it would be over his reckless behavior

in which he understands why it worries you

this first fight wouldn't last long

maybe a day before you guys are all good again

option b is the worst

when he's convinced he's right, he tunes you out

not intentionally, it's just that he's too caught up in what he's feeling to properly listen to you

you guys go back and forth in circles

practically yelling at each-other

his eyes get dark and he becomes angry quickly

refuses to listen to you until things reach a tipping point

either you or him storm out and leave the other one alone for a few days and talk it out once they've cooled down

or one of you starts crying, and the anger is overshadowed by guilt and heartbreak bc of their ignorance

this fight would probably be over his loved ones

if you had pointed out a flaw about them or something they did which you didn't appreciate

or maybe just a passing comment you unintentionally made

i mean the loyalty on that man is crazy

lots of hurt feelings during this fight

and it would last a while - the most being a week

however, both fights would have a mutual apology

where both of you apologize for the things you've said and done

and you guys agree to do better in the future

you probs end up falling asleep in cabin 3 that night

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jason grace

to get in a serious fight with him, it's gotta be something big

jason is calm and level-headed

he takes a walk the first time things get heated and comes back to you with a clear mind

he talks to you calmly, treating the fight more like a debate

don't get it wrong though: internally he's freaking out

he's lost a lot, and he doesn't want to lose you

honestly your first serious fight with him would be over reckless behavior (on your end) or him being walked over

your first serious fight spawns from how deeply you two care for each-other

either he's mad you don't care about yourself and doesn't know how to tell you calmly bc you don't listen

or you're mad that he's ready to die for gods and kids who don't care about him in the least

you guys only fight about these things because light-hearted conversations don't send the message

jason, especially, stays stern during the fight

you wonder if he even cares tbh

but then you notice how he pauses and searches for words, how his lip twitches when you say something snappy, and the look in his eyes

he barely raises his voice, and only does it when you interrupt him constantly

the first fight would end within a day

it would end with revealing why you are reckless or why he is so selfless

it would be a calm, vulnerable conversation

would probs end in a make-out session bc he was so afraid he was gonna lose you

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leo valdez

i'm going to be so real rn: the fight starts because he's feeling inferior

he loves you sm and he considers himself lucky to have you

but bc of that - his feeling of inferiority would be on the back of his mind

he's not really jealous, but more-so afraid you're going to leave him at the drop of a hat like how everyone else has

so he gets upset if you're spending too much time around any other guy

the book series repeatedly talks about leo's insecurities and how he feels like he's not good enough and how he feels everything is his fault

insecurity runs deep and it would most definitely be a reason for a fight

you guys do raise your voices bc at first you're not understanding each-other

you think he's jealous and he thinks you don't want to be with him anymore

after you guys are done with your screaming match, leo would coop up wherever his machines are

he would stay there for a long time and think

he 100% is over analyzing every single thing you said to him

he's convinced you guys are going to break up and you're going to leave him

and he deserves it because it's his fault for starting the argument

even though he isn't jealous or thinks you're a cheater, he just let his insecurities get the best of him

and he feels like it's over for you two

he doubts himself; wondering if he should even try to talk to you or just let what he believes is the inevitable happen

so he doesn't even try to apologize

he is convinced it is all his fault

overworks himself in an attempt to distract himself from all of his terrible thoughts

you, on the other hand, have your time alone and want to talk to him

it's nighttime and he's nowhere to be found

you go to his little lab and voila, there he is

his eyes are red and sunken and his hands are shaky and dirty

you don't say anything, you just hug him

he breaks down and tells you why he was actually mad

he profusely apologizes and doesn't blame you if you want to break up

you explain to him that you are with him because you love him and that one little fight would never make you leave him

you reassure him that he is more than enough

this fight doesn't last more than a day or maybe two

the fight would end with a really intense kiss

and you would probably spend the rest of the night with him in his little work area

you'd watch movies, make jokes, laugh a lot, and company him while he manically works on something

that something is metal flowers as an apology for acting the way he did

it's his way of saying "we're stuck together and i love you :)"

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frank zhang

it's difficult to get into a serious fight with frank

but if you do, it would be over reckless behavior (on your end, c'mon y/n) or his own insecurity

your reckless behavior specifically with fire

frank and fire do not get along - it's well known

he literally can't stand you doing something dangerous in general

but with fire, it's even worse

he's convinced something terrible is going to happen and he lashes out at you bc of his previous experiences with fire

this fight would be short-lived though, bc you would understand why he feels that way

you'd apologize to him and he would apologize for lashing out

you'd agree to stop joking around with fire, but you'd convince him to start getting over his fear

this first fight actually ends up more helpful in the long run as frank slowly overcomes his fear of fire with you by his side

however, if it's his own insecurities, this would go another way

as mentioned, frank has been bullied

and he repeatedly feels like an outcast because he doesn't have dyslexia/adhd, he's an archer but he's a mars kid, and his life depends on a piece of firewood

your fight would start bc he felt left out with you

but it's just him overthinking

(if you use a sword) it's you sparring with jason or percy for practice

and it kinda makes him feel like "i want to help my gf but she needs someone who's actually good"

if you hang out with another mars kid for too long

makes him think "what i should be"

if you made a jab at him that he took a little too seriously

frank is a gentle giant, so he wouldn't yell in the least

you guys would argue and he'd be lost for words, kind of stuttering and repeating himself a lot

he'd just kinda walk off during an argument

this would make you mad bc he started the thing and doesn't want to listen to you

but really, he just wants to talk to you when it's not so heated

you'd go hide in your cabin/room

frank would be walking around and comes to the realization that walking out on your argument was a douchebag move

he shapeshifts into like a rat or a bug or something to go see you in your cabin and make sure you're not hurt

you'd see some random animal in your cabin and you get freaked out

he turn back into himself and apologizes for being rash

he'd be honest and tell you that he was just overthinking things and that he just got in his own head

you accept his apology and tell him to communicate better

to tell you if he feels left out or if he doesn't think something is funny, and to tell you that's he's leaving the argument bc he wants to think abt it

this fight is over by sundown

and you spend the rest of the evening practicing archery with him

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

This just popped up in my mind and I just wnated you to picture this

So imagine a teen kid coming to the slendermanor and obviously they're a teen so everyone expects them to be loud and trouble in general because teens are teens at the end of the day. Just to find out that the teen is actually very mature because they were forced into a situation where they had to be mature at a young age and they're just quiet(but also have mad good murder tactics). Like i just imagine jeff trying to scare the child for shits and giggles and they just stare at him like 🙂

Summary: Quiet teen reader gets into shenanigans in the manor

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

A/n: The battle between Jeff and children is an age old war that I don't see ending anytime soon. ALSO SIDE NOTE, I'm probably gonna be changing up my format for writing majorly soon because im tired of looking at it lolz

Credits: Any Creepypasta characters used- Creepypasta, Divider- saradika-graphics, Picture- Pinterest

Creeps x mature!teen!reader

Generally when kids are brought into the manor, everyone's vibe is "Aw man that's really sad :(" even if they are a teen

Of course, once they get over the sadness, the anxiety starts peeking through

Like not even just teens, all kids are rowdy and annoying so no one really wants to deal with that

So when you get there and you're chill they're like "oh thank god"

No one likes rowdy kids

However, even that can have its hinderances

Like, it's definetly nothing as bad as you being crazy around the manor, but more so just concerning habits

For example, Brian can never do his job as a caretaker, because he'll be coming down the stairs only to see that all of his assigned kids are already out of bed

And when he finally finds them, they are watching T.V

He will ask "Are you guys ready for breakfast?" and they will reply "No thanks, y/n fed us!"

Or E.J, who as we know can't stand dirty things or unhygienic things, will be so confused when that pile of trash he commented on is suddenly gone only a few minutes later

Or his fridge will magically be cleaned out right when he was about to go and do it

Toby will be wondering where on earth his favorite hoodie and hatches went, only to find you out back sharpening and cleaning them, and his hoodie in the washer

Everyone is grateful for your help and all, but it's a little strange?

Like why do you feel the need to do these things? Do you just like helping out or do you feel you need to?

Then there's Ben and Jeff

No fucks given

So what if you're like 13? Jeff was being lit on fire at that age, grow tf up 🙄

Anyways, they both get a kick out of scaring kids

Jeff more than Ben, but it's a fun little friendship activity they do together <333

So when you are exploring the manor one day, suddenly Jeff bumps into you, being waaay nicer than usual

"Hey, y/n! I was just looking for you!"

"Oh, Hello Jeff. Did you need something?"

He'll grin real big and hold your shoulders "Yeah, I just need to test something real quick, so don't move. Just stay exactly like this, kay?"

You nod and do as told, but Jeff doesn't move either, he just stands still, still holding onto your shoulders and staring into your eyes

You then feel a chill go up your spine, and all of a sudden a horrifying warped face that looks as if it was straight out of an analog horror jumps right in front of you

You do jump a little, but other than that, there's no reaction

Jeff immediately drops the act and lets go of you "Ugh, really? Whatever loser, I'll go find someone else to scare"

And with that, he stomps off, but Ben stays for a little bit, his face still contorted into that scary one

He wiggles his fingers and makes an "Oooooo" sound before also walking off behind Jeff

They lose interest in you very quickly after realizing you won't give them a satisfactory reaction

[charles-eclair16]

Night after Night: Charles Leclerc

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!singer reader

Genre: Fluff🌥️ hints of sex?

About: when you release a song and the chaos it creates or the hardest launch ever

Your_username

Liked by charles_leclerc, badgirlriri, Adele and 89.k others

Your_username: Night after Night releasing tomorrow at 8pm. This song is honestly very different from all the songs I've ever written and I hope you guys would love it just as much as me ;⁠) also a surprise guest for you guys☺️

View all comments

Username06: what the fuck?! You cannot just drop this on us!?!

User: the scream I let out! I fell on my knees

Ynfan: is this about sex? Why does it give smexy times vibes

Lovergirl: what if the surprise guest is the man she's been soft launching?

↪️Ynismyreligion: as if! We know nothing about the man apart from he's got dark hair and freckles on his back

↪️Lovergirl: the man in the photo has freckles just saying!

User: bestie wake up mother is back!!

Ynismyreligion: I can't wait for the song!! It's been so long❤️❤️

Fangirl16: Ariana( charles) what are you doing here?!

Ynismymom: who is that man? And why does it look familiar?!

Mybabygirl: Why do I feel like we're going to lose our mind because of this song?!

Badgirlriri: can't wait💙

↪️Your_username: I love youuu❤️

F1obssessed: charles liked this?

↪️Yourfan: who?

↪️Fangirlcl: he's a formula 1 driver.

↪️Formula1fan: girl you're overreacting he could be a fan🤦

↪️F1fan: you're reaching

↪️Smoothoperator: the freakles do look like him

↪️F1fan: and you know this because?

↪️Fangirl16: girl I'm telling you that's Charles like I would bet my life on this

Liked by pierregasly

↪️Formula1fan: what the fuck?! Pierre liked.

↪️F1fan: that man likes anything doesn't mean that's Charles

↪️ Georgerusselfan: you guys can think he can pull a baddie like her? Like be real guys

Charles_leclerc

Liked by peirregasly, your_username, carlossainz55 and 90.9k others

Tagged: your_username

Charles_leclerc: Surprise? Hope you guys enjoyed the music video as much as we enjoyed filming it ;⁠) Baby I'm so proud of you♥️ and I'm so lucky to be loved by you...these months have been amazing with you by my side. I love you 😘 ps- did I make a good actor?

View all comments

F1fan: this is the hardest launch ever

Pierregasly: you sure did practice a lot

↪️Likedbygasly: lmao pierre

↪️Ynfan09: spill the tea gasly

Carlossainz55: I still can't believe the song is written about you

↪️Vettelfan: carlos💀

Landonorris: I so not needed to hear that

↪️Ynismyreligion: Lando😭😭

↪️Ynismylove: exactly there are children here

User: I like how she dropped one song and the F1 twitter was in shambles

Username05: Monday Tuesday Wednesday... Now the only thing I will remember is Charles giving yn the ride of her life

Fangirl16: the song has been stuck in my mind

LewisHamilton: Nice song Charles♥️

Smoothoperator: the whole grid is gonna make fun of Charles

Maxverstappen1: Nice to know your weekly routine mate!

↪️Fanoff1: Lmao max💀

↪️Fangirl16: just tell us that you watched the mv for Charles max

Danielriccardo: Oh didn't know you had game mate

↪️Superfan02: us too Daniel us too

↪️Randomfan02: With a face like Charles I don't think you need a game his face is game enough

Alexalbon: Nice song mate. Practiced a lot?

Georgerussel: l love how the whole grid is ganging up on Charles

Likedbygasly: I wanna know who texted the groupchat first when the video dropped

Your_username: Thank you for being in the video babe♥️ couldn't have done it without you😘😘😘

↪️Pierregasly: obviously couldn't have done it without him😂

↪️Username05: Pierre💀💀

Your_username: I loveeeee you♥️♥️

Username06: they're so cute

Charles_leclerc: nobody is complimenting my acting🙃

↪️Pierregasly: what acting?

↪️Maxverstappen1: you ate her face the whole video?? Are we supposed to compliment your kissing abilities?

↪️Landonorris: as if we haven't seen you guys sucking each other's faces off enough

[jasperxkuromi]

Regressors that are (bodily) older, please interact!

Later 20s, 30s, maybe even older? I would love to hear from you and maybe even your stories if you don't mind sharing!

I want to meet more people like me and also show others that age regression doesn't just suddenly "stop" at a certain age

Some of us:

Didn't discover regressing/didn't understand their involuntary regression until they were older

Wasn't in a safe space mentally and/or physically to be able to regress the way we want to

Didnt "grow out" of regressing. I think a lot of people outside the community assume we will all grow out of wanting to regress at some point. Maybe some of us will, but some of us won't. Regressing can be a safe and healthy coping mechanism, no matter your bodily age!

And probably many other reasons I can't think of at the moment lol

I would love to get to talk to older regressors, or if there are any groups/discords, I would like to know those too :3

I'm gonna talk about my story a little under the cut, but I don't exactly recommend reading it if you are little right now! I am going to be talking about s3xualization of agere and children's media unfortunately.

I started age dreamer/involuntarily regressing when I was in high school without really knowing what it was. I was really into MLP FiM during its height popularity. I watched the show, collected and played with the toys, did coloring books, took my MLP blanket to school ever day. You get the idea.

I discovered regression here in Tumblr, but this was yeeeeaaars ago, like back when nsfw was still allowed. The line between ddlg and agere wasn't as solid as it is now. Or maybe it was just because I was a kid and couldn't understand better? Either way ... i ended up getting wrong ideas of what agere had to be and ended up scaring myself off. I also had adult roleplayers leaving really inappropriate comments on my posts that made me feel icky. I thought agere had to be s3xual and scared myself off.

We also unfortunately probably know the uhhh .. types of fan art that was popular of MLP. And it just ended up making me lose interest in the series. The stuff was everywhere and it was hard to avoid even if you were vigilant.

I never got a real chance to understand what healthy, voluntary regression was. I still was an age dreamer, but most times when I involuntarily regress it is out of extreme stress and it isn't fun or pretty.

I had a lot of bad things that happened to me last year and in turn I am having more health issues. Chronic conditions I already had getting worse, and new ones popping up. My mom (the one who birthed me) has been helping me a bit, but it has still been a lot of playing adult. Making phone calls back and forth, filling out paperwork, figuring out disability leave, paying bills, etc etc. I started age dreaming more and more often to cope with the stress. Like I randomly one day bought a DVD player and sets of Winnie the Pooh and Scooby Doo DVDs lmfao.

I also never stopped collecting stuffed animals and came back to collecting dolls again last year. It helps that I have friends IRL who I don't think are regressors, but still enjoy collecting with me. (my friends don't know yet, but I think they would be accepting if I told them, or they might already assume I regress tbh)

I have kinda had age regression on the back of my mind for several months, but was scared to look back into it. I was scared of going through the same thing I did back in high school. But also denying I am a regressor and that I still need to heal my childhood wounds was getting heavier and heavier on me. I am sooooo thankful I finally felt safe to begin exploring regression again ♥️😁

Side note: while I absolutely don't care if people do ddlg and similar stuff as a kink/fetish, I am thankful that the distinction between that and agere is more distinct now. It is important we protect minors and other vulnerable people from having the same sorts of things that happened to me (or worse) from happening to them.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Fan Mail

June Prompt: Song By Blondie | Word Count: 876 | Rating: T | Characters: Steve, Robin, Eddie | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Canon Divergence, No Upside Down, Steve "I'm a Big Fan" Harrington, Platonic Stobin

For a song by Blondie, I picked Fan Mail.

The crumpled ball of paper hits the wall, banking off and falling straight into the trash can. At least his aim is good, even if his writing isn't. Steve looks up at the poster over his desk, and sighs. He's fucking pathetic. Seriously, is his plan really that he's gonna write Eddie "The Freak" Munson with some, what, fan mail? Yeah, that's a great fucking plan. 

Hi, remember me? We went to high school together. I was a bit of a dick, but I'm hoping you've forgotten that. You're pretty hot up on that stage. Call me.

Yeah, right. 

He's definitely aborting this mission. It was a stupid idea, anyway.

A few weeks later, Steve pulls a stack of letters out of the mailbox. Bill, bill, junk, junk, bill…and then his stomach drops with dread. A red envelope, with the Corroded Coffin logo drawn in the corner, where the return address should be.

What the fuck? No, seriously, what the fuck?

Steve takes it to the kitchen counter and sits it down, filled with dread. He didn't lose his mind and actually mail one of those goddamn letters, right? Surely he'd remember doing something as unhinged as that. 

He wants to open it, but he also really doesn't want to know what's inside.

So, it sits. For an hour, a day, a week.

It sits until Robin swings by one day, and picks it up like the Nosey Nellie she is, "What's this, dingus?"

Steve reaches for it, trying to grab it from her grubby little hands, "Nothing!"

"It doesn't sound like it's nothing," she crows, and holds it behind her back. 

"Robin, give it to me," he warns, low and pissy. If he opens it, it's gonna be on his own terms. And that's a big if. As long as he leaves it alone, he'll never have to know what's inside. Good, bad or ugly.

"Why haven't you opened it? Maybe it's important," she says, "maybe it's from Eddie."

And he knows. He suddenly knows exactly what's happened here, and he's gonna kill her.

"What the fuck did you do?" he asks, eyes narrowed.

"What you were too chickenshit to," she says, and she presses the envelope to his chest.

"Goddamnit, Robin," Steve says, feeling embarrassed and sick, "they weren't, I wasn't, ready."

Robin's eyes soften, "I know you, Steve. You'd never be ready."

She's not wrong, she's not, but still. She shouldn't have done this to him. It could be classified as a hate crime, he's pretty sure. And maybe even tampering with the U.S. mail. That's a federal offense. He could have her prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

"Quit daydreaming about my demise, and just open it. Then you can kill me if you need to," she says, and he nods, sliding onto the stool at the counter. 

He slides his thumb under the flap of the envelope and tugs, ripping it open, pulling out the letter. When he unfolds it, two tickets fall onto the counter and Robin reaches for them, and he just lets her. 

And he reads. 

It's short, and funny, and not as embarrassing as he'd feared. Eddie seems happy to have heard from him, and the two tickets are an invitation. It seems casual, but Steve knows better.

Holy shit.

He's actually made a fucking pass at Eddie Munson, and he seems to have made one back? What is happening right now? For real. 

"Well?" Robin asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet, impatient. 

"He invited me, us, to their show in Indy next month."

"See? I told you it'd be fine, dingus," she says, and he nods.

He spins on his chair, to face her full-on, "What version did you send?"

Steve suddenly needs to know how embarrassed he needs to be right now.

"The least stalkerish one, I swear," she says, "and I included a note from me, so he'd know, you weren't exactly aware it was being mailed."

That's probably more embarrassing, he thinks. Like he was just sitting there, pining, like a fool, and his best friend had to intervene.

Eddie must think he's the fucking freak, now. 

The tickets are good. Really good, Steve has suddenly realized, as they stand right next to the stage. They aren't front and center, more off to the side, but still. Right there. Front row. Where Eddie will definitely be able to see them, and know they came, if he just looks down.

And he does. 

As soon as he hits the stage, he comes right to their side, squats down, and reaches out to hand Steve something. Steve's frozen, eyes locked on Eddie's, so it's Robin's hand that reaches out and takes the folded up piece of paper he's offering.

Once Eddie's gone from in front of them, taking his spot center stage and getting the show started, Robin is unfolding the piece of paper. 

Steve leans over her shoulder, and it's dark. Nearly too dark to read, but it's fan mail. Right back. Talking about how he'd always liked looking at him, too, back in high school.

That he'd like to look at him a little bit more after the show tonight, if Steve is interested.

Oh.

Steve is definitely interested.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

[that-weeb-in-ur-closet]

Oooh please relationship headcanons (nsfw & sfw) for gojo, chuuya and fyodor (or whichever one they choose)... including what they would be like as a partner and what they would go for in a partner?

Oooh!! Nonnie, I'd love to. I don't write for Fyodor YET, but I do write for Chuuya and Gojo.

I'll do Chuuya today and Gojo tomorrow ☆☆☆

Chuuya Nakahara:

Sfw headcanons.

♡ He is the sweetest thing, and nobody can change my mind about that. He's the type to just stare at you, and when you ask him about it, he's just like, "I can't help it. You're just too pretty."

♡ He loves it when you wear his clothes, even better if you're (somehow) shorter than him. Sometimes, he'll take off his hat and put it on you, kissing your cheek as he looks at you. He's a hopeless romantic.

♡ I can see him being like, "I don't have a type." before he got a girlfriend, now that he has one, if anybody asks—he's just like, "My type is my girlfriend."

♡ The second you and him made it official, he RAN to his phone and called Dazai. "GUESS WHAT YOU SON OF A BITCH, I GOT A GIRLFRIEND!" "Good job, Chuuya. It only took you twenty years." He got mad and hung up.

♡ He's so scared of losing you, so he just never let's you go. Hugging you from behind, holding your hand, hand on your thigh while driving, any sort of physical contact makes him feel comforted.

♡ He's so protective over you. He LOVES YOU SO MUCH, and he just doesn't ever wanna lose you. If you're in the PM with him, he'll try not to let you fight much and just shield you and did that even before you got into a relationship. You found it kinda weird how he would go out of his way to protect you and nobody else, and when you brought it up, he just mumbled "shut up" and walked away like a gremlin.

♡ He loves it when you play with his hair. He has never felt such a soft touch, and it makes him feel so fuzzy and warm when you softly run your fingers through it. It's long and pretty, and you both love it. When you're making out with him and gently grip the back of his hair? That leads to something more.

♡ He gets really confused if you try internet couple trends on him. "W-what are you saying?? I'm a grown man, I'm not a baby girl!!"

♡ You gets mad really easily, but with you, it's not anger. It's just flusteredness and cute blushies. He literally can't get mad at you, no matter what, he just loves you.

NSFW HEADCANONS

☆ He's a dom. Sometimes he's rough, sometimes he's gentle. If you tease him too much, he'll be a bitch and tease you until you're begging. "Awe, what's wrong, doll? Can't take it? Then behave like a good girl."

☆ His voice??? HELLO??? Why does nobody talk about it??? His dub voice is just-... Hearing his accent makes you wet. And he takes full advantage of it. He'll lean real close to you and lick your ear, smirking into your skin, "Baaaabbbbyyyy... You look so pretty tonight... Do you even know what you do to me? Let me show you."

♡ About the hand on your thigh while driving? Yeah, that's how car sex happens. It's just the way he looks driving one-handed, the feeling of a gloved hand on your thigh, how he only "Hms" in his groggy voice to everything you say.

♡ His biggest kinks are probably dry humping. He loves it when you sit on his lap happily while watching a movie, especially if it's a romantic movie. A sex scene suddenly pops up? He'll grab your hips and slowly grind you against his boner, moaning and whining into your ear softly. (Maybe a mommy kink too but I don't wanna talk about it)

♡ If you're BOTH a part of the Mafia, like I said— he'll be protective. But sometimes, when he sees you fighting another man? He'll get jealous. So, what does he do? He fuckd you in front of them. He's gonna kill the man anyway, he's just gonna die with cum on his face.

♡ His hands. There shouldn't be any other words, but I'm saying more anyway. They're long and skinny, and they can curl inside of you so EASILY. He's skilled with them. He'll delicately flick your soft nipple and make it hard on a sweet day, or roughly grab and pinch them on a bad day. He loves when you suck on them, sometimes not even sexually, you'll just be sitting or walking and he'll put his finger in your mouth.

♡ He's the definition of Short King Anthem. I'm not gonna say anything else.

♡ He does this thing where he'll grind his hips in circles, and when I tell you, you've never felt more pleasure in one night. Ever. He KNOWS how good it feels, well, at least judging by the way you scream for him.

♡ You've made him cry during sex. A lot. And it's only because he adores feeling you, hearing your breath, hearing you moan for him and only him. He never thought he'd feel so loved, and he wants more of it. The crying only got into an emotional breakdown ONCE, and it was the first time you had sex. You didn't mind, which made him cry more.

♡ He's a big softie at heart and just wants to be touched. Aftercare with him is godly. He makes sure he didn't hurt you, makes sure you're okay and everything. He'll pick you up and take you to the bathroom to get cleaned up and does all the work. After that, he cuddles with you all night, pressed as close as physically possible to you.

He's a lover boy, change my mind.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

If you’re interested Dark Donna x Reader where the voices in Donna’s head convinces her Readers going to leave, so Donna purposely gets Reader pregnant but when Ready finds out she’s pregnant she thinks Donna’s gonna get mad so she try’s to hide it. You can choose the rest just fluffy ending pls

Yesss!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

The voices

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, dark themes, dark Donna, Donna's POV

Word count: 6,870

Summary: You're going to leave, they tell me you're going to leave...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

I walked quickly, almost running. Normally when I return home after a meeting, I take my time to enjoy the solitude, that landscape I consider mine, my property.

I asked myself questions about the birds that perched on the dry and sad branches. I looked at the fog across the bridge. Not that day, that day I had to run, I had to return home.

The routine would continue as always, it would continue as always if she had not appeared in my life.

(Y/N), an annoying villager who dared to appear in my life, changed it completely. She was a young, beautiful girl, really beautiful, who dared to meet me, to get into my mind and never leave.

It was like a horrible temptation, like an unbearable addiction. Once I tried it, I couldn't live without it. Smiling, happy, calm... It was the complete opposite of what I was. Maybe that “opposites attract” nonsense was true. I never believed in love, I never even bothered to look for it. Damn addiction, I could no longer live without love, without loving her.

She didn't hesitate, I offered her to live with me, to be by my side, and she accepted, probably without thinking too much about it. I should scare you, make you afraid, but I didn't, not even my face, not even my body, were reasons for you to stop loving me.

You were mine, only mine.

That thought always overshadowed all my doubts, the voices that told me that it was just a mirage, a screen that superimposed itself on reality. No, no, (Y/N) was mine, leave me alone.

But, even though I tried to do everything possible not to let the doubt overwhelm me, for a couple of weeks those voices had become louder in my head, repeating the same thing over and over, over and over...

(Y/N) doesn't love you, Donna, (Y/N) won't stay with you, she’s going to leave, she’s going to abandon you. She will leave you alone.

I tried to silence those voices in every way possible, I really did. I kissed you, I made love to you, I hugged you... None of that served to silence those damned voices. At first it seemed absurd to me, but little by little, that thought became much more real.

(Y/N) is going to leave, she will abandon you…

Over and over again, that same cursed mantra, the dark voice that made me lose my mind. My pace quickened, to the point where I was having trouble breathing. The elevator was going up too slow, I had to get home. I had to check that you weren't gone.

“(Y/N)...” I said agitated, slowly entering the house, looking for your figure wandering through the hallways, looking for your shadow impregnated on the walls.

There was nothing, just silence, just those voices that told me the same thing over and over again.

You see? She's gone, she's abandoned you

“Stai zitto...” I murmured to myself. It couldn't be true. I wanted to believe it couldn't be true. I took off my veil and looked for you on one side, on the other.

I didn't find you and the fury inside me was fighting to come out, I could feel the heat rising through my body, I could feel how my fist was clenching the black fabric tightly, wanting to tear it.

“(Y/N), where are you?” I said with a slightly louder voice. Angie helped me look for you, Angie always helped me.

No, she didn't find you either. I wanted my voice to sound authoritative, stern, for you to respond to my call, but you didn't, and I didn't sound that way either. It was almost pathetic, it almost seemed like I was begging you.

I couldn't beg for you. You were mine, you belonged to me. You couldn't leave. You weren't going to leave.

“(Y/N),” I growled, this time with that desired tone. Anger burned my skin and my eye searched for you tirelessly. I would have been able to raise my entire army of dolls to find you, you know I would, (Y/N).

But the silence only made the voices stronger, more forceful. They sounded in my ears, in my head, they sighed on my skin, they gave me goosebumps. They told me the truth.

“(Y/N)!” I screamed through my teeth, making the walls reflect my anger. My steps became firm and my brow furrowed as I walked through the house. The voices only fell silent at that moment, at the moment when I screamed, when I demanded for you to appear. “(Y/N)! You better not be gone!”

She's gone, Donna, she has to pay, you have to grab some scissors and...

“No!” I shouted to drown out the suggestion that sounded terrible to me, at least in case I was making a mistake, which was increasingly further from the truth.

“Come here, (Y/N)! You'll regret it if you don't show up!” I continued shouting, kicking a chair hard. Sorry, I figured it was you.

“Hey, hey, hey... Donna, what's wrong with you? What are those screams about?” A voice that was not in my head made me stay stuck to the floor.

Your figure, your perfect body appeared in front of me. Two years, three, seven could pass. Your body would always make all the evil inside me to hide, afraid of your beauty.

“(Y/N)” I murmured, smiling involuntarily. Once again my demons managed to deceive me. You weren't gone.

But she will leave, Donna, she will leave... She will leave you alone.

“Honey...” You whispered, approaching me with a worried look. I lowered mine, embarrassed. “Honey, what's wrong?” You asked in a soft voice, with that tempting voice, typical of any demon.

“You were not here. I arrived and you weren't there,” I said sincerely, with reproach activated in my voice, with my eye dark because of the scare you had given me. Don't do it again, ever.

“Well, I was taking a shower,” you explained, leaning in to kiss me, to captivate me with your lips. I kissed you back, but I pulled away right away. Your eyes were still worried, just like my soul. “My love, you are shaking, are you having a crisis?”

“No, I'm fine,” I said, removing the hand that had risen to my cheek. I was never going to admit how worried I was. You couldn't leave, you were mine, and you would be forever.

You sighed, shaking your head, insisting on making me fall into your addictive caresses.

“What has the poor chair done to you?” You asked amused, luckily letting my hand go and picking up the furniture from the floor. Your look said it, you were scared, or worried, or both.

“I’ve tripped,” I lied, with that dry tone that pretended I didn't care enough about you to be on the verge of begging for you to come back. I would never beg for you, you were mine.

She's not, she'll leave.

I shuddered at that horrible voice, at that constant torment of a wounded mind. You noticed it, studying me again with your beautiful look, with that look that could make me melt.

“Has something happened at the meeting?” You asked, confused by my tremors.

“No, everything has gone as usual,” I said, breathing calmly, following the movements your hands made, those movements with which you thought you controlled me when I lost my mind. I don't know why, but they worked.

“Okay, Donna, that's it, breathe with me...” You whispered calmly, making me fall into your trap again, grabbing my hands, removing my fingers that were almost digging into my flesh. “You feel better now?”

I nodded when the voices stopped due to your caresses, your soft and innocent kisses. They were the worst of drugs for me, your tender and relaxing lips. I didn't want you to leave, please don't abandon me.

“Great,” you said with a casual smile, when my body stopped shaking and my face gave you a smile. “Anyway, what do you want for dinner? It's my turn.”

“No, I... I’m going to prepare dinner, okay?” I said relaxed, wanting to compensate you for my absurd doubts. You bit your lip and jumped into my arms, letting me hug you. Gods, how I love your hugs.

“I was hoping you'd say that,” you whispered amusedly in my ear, making me laugh too, making my cheeks take on a slightly rosy tone.

You gave me a quick kiss on the lips and turned away from me, plopping down on a couch under my watchful gaze. Whatever you did, (Y/N), was worthy of admiration.

I went down to the kitchen with the relief of being right, of being superior to those horrible voices. No, you weren't going to abandon me. You loved me, almost as much as I loved you.

While cooking, I hummed an old song. My world at that moment was perfect. Until two years ago, I had never cooked for anyone. Nothing made me happier than seeing how you enjoyed the things I prepared for you. Nothing made me happier than seeing your smile.

Donna…

A voice hummed in my head, wanting to get my attention. I did my best to ignore it, singing louder. I couldn't stop hearing it, it was in my head. I pressed my temples with my fingers, so that little pain would relieve and silence those demons. It was not as easy as before, it was no longer as easy as before.

Have you left her alone upstairs? How stupid you are…

I shook my head, adding more ingredients to the pot. I wanted to prepare something delicious for you, I wanted to, at least you would stay for my food. What a stupid thing.

“No... No... Not now...” I murmured nervously, diverting my attention from the fire and gripping a knife tightly.

Yes, now, Donna. You are reckless. She can escape, cut the power of the elevator and leave you locked here. How pathetic that would be, just like you are...

Ignoring my mind again, I let the handle of that knife go, before my disturbed conscience suggested the things I could do to you with it.

Luckily, I was able to dinner in peace. When I came up with the food, you had already prepared the table, a romantic dinner, or so you said. Those kinds of things are what calm the screams of my sick mind. Only you could calm me down.

The love I felt for you was so strong that I was able to forget my fears, behave like that person you said you loved. Your smile, your funny look and your informal comments made me feel part of you, always part of you. You weren't going to leave me, you were mine.

When it was time to sleep, my body claimed yours, I claimed you. I wanted to make you mine again and again, celebrate the victory of your love against the voices in my head. Everything could have been so perfect, (Y/N), but it wasn't, you didn't want it to be.

“Donna, I'm a bit... Tired...” You said, removing my hands from your waist, making my mouth stop kissing the addictive skin of your neck.

I looked at you confused and continued with the kisses despite your complaints. I had to make you mine, you had to be mine.

“Donna, stop, stop it,” you said with a stern voice, pushing me gently, preventing me from getting close again by placing your hands on my chest. Your eyes were sad now. They did not shine with the same desire as other times.

“Why?” I asked with a pleading tone, grabbing your waist, pulling you, to which you shook your head. “Please, I want to make love to you…”

It was a damn formal request, (Y/N), why the hell did you have to turn it down?

You see? She doesn't even want you to fuck her...

“I'm sorry Donna, but I already told you. I'm especially tired today,” you said, moving away from me and getting into bed. I protested with a growl.

I don't remember what I did, what expression my face had, but I remember your strange, scared eyes. That fearful look, those bright eyes made me tremble.

Did my look tell you that I was going to take what I wanted by force? Did you really think that way about me? What a problem, (Y/N), you only made me want to do it.

“Hey, I promise you tomorrow we will do whatever you want, okay?” You said, reaching out your arm to pull my wrist. “Come on, come to bed.”

“I don't want to,” I said with a tone that I now think was too childish. I didn't want to be with you, sleep with you, you had hurt me. I felt hurt. Something told me it was for no reason. “I'm going to the workshop.”

“At this time of the night? Come on, Donna, you can't spend all day with the dolls, you'll end up becoming...”  You said, protesting in a funny way, ignoring the seriousness of my words, of my intentions.

“Crazy?” I finished the sentence for you and you let yourself fall on the mattress, closing your eyes.

“I didn't mean that,” you corrected.

Too late, Donna, she's given himself away, she thinks you're a crazy psychopath. And…You are.

“Good night, (Y/N),” I said, leaving the room before those voices could shout any more. To be honest, I didn't want to make love to you that much, it was more of a feeling of power, of possession.

Not finding you when I got home had opened a crack in what was left of my sanity. Only my dolls, my eternal friends, could help me think clearly, to become that woman you loved again.

I started to sew, I couldn't do it. The fabric was slipping from my hands. Then I wanted to paint, but my body was shaking so much and it was impossible. Not even in the safety of my workshop was I safe, not anymore.

She’s leaving at night and you know what you're going to do? Nothing, because you never do anything, you are stupid, a nutcase, a...

“Basta!” I screamed, dropping the brush and burying my head in the table, grabbing it with my hands, pulling my hair in frustration. “Basta, per favore… Angie!”

At least the voices fell silent. At least they left me alone. Oh, Angie, if you knew how much good you are to me... You really manage to calm me down, and not (Y/N)...

“I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming,” the doll sang, that part of my consciousness that I myself created thanks to Mother Miranda's gift. I couldn't have endured my life without her.

“Angie... I can't take it anymore...” I sobbed, letting my hair go but starting to cry. Tears ran down my cheeks relentlessly. The only thing I was thinking about at that moment was that you wouldn't listen to me. I didn't want your false compassion.

“The voices again?” the puppet asked, patting my back. She didn't even have to ask, she already knew, Angie always knew everything about me, my thoughts...

“They don't stop, Angie, they don't stop telling horrible things to me...” I explained among sobs, raising my head. Angie was listening to me, sitting at the table.

“What horrible things?” She asked with false curiosity. I composed myself. I didn't want to say them, they would come back, I'm sure they would come back.

“They tell me... They tell me that (Y/N), that she...”  I stuttered, involuntarily looking at the door, in case you showed up because of the scandal.

“They tell you that she will leave?” Angie finished the sentence for me, saving me the pain of repeating it. I nodded, embarrassed. “Bah, don't pay attention, she won't leave.”

“How can you be so sure?” I asked, annoyed by that simple answer.

“Well, I'm not but... It's what I think, what you think,” she explained, making comical gestures with her hands. “You must relax, Donna, otherwise you already know that the voices will never go away.”

“How do you want me to relax?” I asked, this time breathing harder. There were many things to break in that room, and the temptation was there. “Just, just the fact of thinking that she would abandon me...”

“Well, well, enough complaining,” Angie said, blatantly interrupting me. Thinking of Angie as a doll was much more reassuring than thinking that my own conscience had silenced me. “This way you won't be able to solve anything.”

I crossed my arms, regretting having called my doll. She was never particularly helpful, but at least, she was there.

“So how could I solve it? It's getting worse...” I murmured in a lower tone, looking around me. Neither the voices nor you appeared, luckily.

“Okay, okay, stop, my dear Donna,” the doll said, putting her arms in a calm position. “You can't complain if… If you haven't done anything about it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, please, I know you know...” The puppet muttered, giving me a nasty elbow. Sometimes she took too many liberties. “If you are afraid that she will leave, the solution is simple, force her to stay.”

I was horrified by that proposal. There were many desires, the desire to be evil to you, to lock you in my room, to tie you to my bed. But that feeling of being truly loved, of a real feeling... It was much better. I never thought that way again, never, I promise, (Y/N).

“You know I can't do that... She loves me,” I protested with a grimace of absolute disgust.

“And you love her, right?” Angie responded boldly. I nodded almost immediately.

“I don't want to hurt her,” I said sincerely. I enjoyed seeing suffering in other people, but not in you, not in you, my love.

“Mm okay, that rules out my other two ideas,” the doll murmured in a comical, thoughtful way.

“If you're not going to help me, Angie, you better...” I said, tired of her shameless way of being, of the way I gave her, of my own conscience.

“Wait, wait, wait!” She screeched irritatingly, hurting my ears. “I got it, I got it, I got it, I got it.”

“Speak once and for all,” I demanded, trembling to know what her horrible proposal would be.

“If you want (Y/N) to stay with you forever, and you don't want to hurt her... You should get her pregnant,” she said triumphantly, as if it were the best idea in the world.

It didn't horrify me the way it should, it sounded too good, even at first. But no, I still had my doubts.

“Pregnant?” I asked, blinking in confusion, feeling a chill running through my body. “How is that supposed to make her stay?”

“Just think about it, Donna,” Angie whispered, approaching me, pretending to tell me a secret. “If (Y/N) is having your child, she won't be able to leave.”

“Of course she will. And then I will lose (Y/N) and my child at the same time,” I contradicted, thinking about it more coldly.

“No, wrong,” she said amused, putting a finger on my nose, making me growl with rage. “What is a villager like her going to do with a baby to take care of? She doesn't have a family and you already know how badly single mothers are viewed in the village... Not to mention Miranda, who would surely have her eyes on...”

“Okay, okay, I don't understand anything, Angie,” I said, overwhelmed by all that information and worried about how good it sounded in my head.

“Come on, it's very simple. (Y/N) will have no choice but to stay here with you so her baby, your baby, can have a happy life. Besides, you always wanted a baby, right?”

“Well, I... It's, it's true but... But (Y/N) doesn't want to, or so I think,” I said, running my hand over the back of my sweaty neck.

“What does that matter? She's yours, Donna, don't forget it,” the doll snapped, with a more aggressive tone. I couldn't say for sure if it really was Angie.

“I don't know... I... Even if it’s a good idea, it's not possible. (Y/N) always wants me to put… You know…”

“Oh, of course, you're talking about that humiliating rubber band that forces you to put on your…”

“Yes, you don't need to say it,” I interrupted, blushing with embarrassment.

“It's humiliating, don't you think? It's like you disgust her...” She murmured sinisterly, which made my breathing even more complicated.

“She says it's for protection,” I said, thinking about her words.

Yes, it was really humiliating not being able to feel my skin against yours, but I had never thought about it. Maybe you were cheating on me, (Y/N). Maybe you didn't love me as much as you said you did.

“Yeah, of course, lie, lie, lie. She does it because she's afraid of having a baby with you and having to stay, don't you see?”

“Maybe...” I said thoughtfully, stopping paying attention to Angie, and listen to my conscience.

A baby... It sounded hasty, crazy. But the more I thought about it, the better results appeared in my mind. Yes, maybe Angie was right, maybe that part of me was right.

Having a baby is not harm, it is a sign of love, of the love I felt for you. Just imagine, (Y/N), a precious baby to take care of. Thinking about it only made those horrible voices duller. Maybe that would be the solution.

I got into bed, with the pregnancy issue on my mind. You were asleep, breathing in that way of yours, which said how alien to the world you were, that you hadn't even worried about me. It didn't matter, that was going to change soon.

“I love you, (Y/N),” I whispered in your ear, passing my arm over your body, bringing you closer to me. You moaned. I couldn't see your face, but I could swear you were smiling.

Yes, I love you, I loved you, I will always love you. I will always do anything so you know, I would do anything for you to be by my side. I didn't care about the consequences. You were mine, and you always would be.

What are you waiting for? Do what you have to do, tie that bitch to your bed and to your life...

The voices returned days later. I even thought I forgot about that idea for a moment. I could only see love in your face, in your smile, I could see only you. But your absence, even if it was justified, made my body tremble again.

I got up from the couch, leaving aside the book I was pretending to read, listening to every voice, every desperate scream that tortured me. They were right, you would abandon me if I didn't act, if I didn't make you mine in a way you couldn't even imagine.

“Hello, bellisima,” you said smiling, cutting some tomatoes in the kitchen. “Look, I hope you don't mind if I try to imitate your special sauce.”

My corners turned up as I walked towards you. Seeing you only inflamed my desires, it only made me feel pleasure.

“I don't care,” I said whispering, standing behind you and enjoying your beauty. Nothing else was needed for my body to start reacting, I knew it well.

“It's probably a failure, but hey, I want to try,” you murmured, joking and looking at me briefly with a smile. I couldn't, I didn't want to wait any longer.

My hand reached out to yours, pushing away that knife, that possibility of defending yourself. You didn't seem upset, or scared, much less when I brushed the hair from your neck and started kissing it, wrapping my hands around your waist.

“Wow... Someone is in a very good mood...” You murmured in a sensual voice, rubbing your body with my already noticeable erection, which made me moan with impatience.

I didn't respond. I just smiled while you couldn't see me, while you couldn't do anything but melt with my caresses.

“Okay, okay, Donna...” You sighed after a while of kissing and caressing my body, turning around to kiss me on the lips. “Come on, let's go to the bedroom.”

“No, here,” I said, grabbing your wrist, making you almost trip. You looked at me strangely, but that mischievous smile was still on your face.

“Well... It's okay,” you said, not very sure. “But let me go first to take a…”

“No,” I said abruptly, perhaps too sharply. You looked at me surprised and crossed your arms. I couldn't help but think of Angie's words.

It's humiliating, it's like you disgust her...

“No, you say?” You asked mockingly, putting your hands on your hips.

“I don't want you to make me put on that thing,” I protested, with a hiss that could have been terrifying.

“Well… I guess nothing will happen for doing once, right?” You said to my surprise. I was ready to force you. Hurting you, forcing you, is the last thing I wanted, tesoro...

I nodded, returning to your mouth, kissing you passionately. I didn't want to run, but my body forced me, I was eager to enter you, and so was I.

“Donna, calm down, there's no rush,” you laughed when my arms lifted you up, sitting on the counter, not wanting to move away from your mouth, from your addictive kisses. “You are definitely in a very good mood…”

“(Y/N), I want you... I need you... I need to make you mine...” I whispered in your ear, playing with my dress. My shaft pressed against my clothes, it wanted to come out, and I allowed it, at the same time you looked at me with bright eyes. You wanted it, right? Yes, yes, you wanted it.

“What are you waiting for? Come on, come here...” You whispered, pulling my clothes, making my body crash against yours.

I still can't explain the pleasure I felt when my erection rubbed your wet entrance. That stupid rubber thing would never get in my way again. I didn't think too much about it, you were fine, ready for me. Your body always so calm, adapting to me so slowly. That touch, making my way through your walls, stretching them, noticing how I slid, how you moaned with pleasure when I did it, still clouded my senses.

The goal was still in my mind, but nothing stopped me from enjoying it properly, as I always did when I made love to you.

“Gods, Donna... You're perfect...” You moaned, holding on to my body so as not to lose stability. I smiled, responding to your compliment with a kiss, intensifying my thrusts, moaning with pleasure as I felt your body hugging mine.

“I love you (Y/N),” I said quietly, continuing to move my hips against yours, separating your legs so I could enjoy the view in front of me even more. You laughed, controlling your release so it wouldn't be so soon. How cute, I wasn't going to control myself at all.

“Me too,” you said, moaning more and more, until you hugged me in an unimaginable way, squeezing my erection inside your body. It was the first time I felt it that much. My addiction to you only got worse. “Ugh,” you laughed, relaxing your body. “Donna... On second thought... Do it outside, okay?”

Stupid nutcase, cum now or you'll lose her...

The voices returned with your unpleasant request, they tormented me again, but they failed to distract me.

“No,” I gasped, thrusting into you harder. You opened your eyes, scared.

“Donna... Please...”

“No!” I screamed, holding your hips, digging my nails into your skin so you wouldn't dare to separate from me. Finally I released myself, feeling how the heat that came out of my body settled on yours, possessing you. You were mine, even more mine. My seed was inside you, you couldn't leave, not anymore.

“What's wrong with you? Haven't you heard me?” You asked. Not with resentment, you didn't seem upset, rather, disappointed. “Donna, why did you do it?”

I came out of you overwhelmed by pleasure, with my legs trembling with excitement. I didn't say anything to you. I just looked at you with a cold face, while I put my clothes back. You shook your head, in disbelief at what had happened.

“You're mine. Try not to forget it,” I whispered before disappearing from the kitchen. I had enjoyed it, yes, it was likely that my plan would work, but different voices appeared in my head, some pleading, sad, disappointed voices.

What have you done, Donna? How could you do something like that? You've let (Y/N) down… She loved you, Donna, you've let her down.

Regretting my mistake, for thinking that something like that would work, I isolated myself again in my workshop. You stopped coming to see me. You didn't speak to me for days. You were angry, upset, but you were still here.

She’s going to leave at any moment...

My anxiety, my madness got worse. I smashed dolls, kicked chairs, went crazy, deranged. My soul cried out for forgiveness, I needed your forgiveness. I wouldn't do it again, I promise. After almost two months of ignorance on your part, of cold looks and false smiles, accompanied by kisses that no longer said the same thing as before, I decided to leave my pride, beg for you not to leave, for you to forgive me.

One night, I left the workshop with that idea, the idea of ​​humiliating myself  in front you. The voices were not right. The voices were to blame for making the idea of ​​abandoning me more present in my head.

A light in the hallway caught my attention, along with a sob coming from the bathroom. It could only be you.

“Black gods… No… What am I going to do now? If I tell her... I... Oh, Gods, how would she react?” That's all I could hear before opening the door and discovering a horrible scene.

You were kneeling, crying, you had something in your hand, but I didn't notice. I could only see your tears spoiling your beauty, tears that I had caused.

“Why are you crying?” I asked crouching down next to you. You looked at me scared, hiding that strange object so I wouldn't see it.

Her passport to her freedom, you were always stupid, Donna...

“No, it's nothing,” you said, wiping your tears and putting the object in a pocket, out of my reach.

“Nothing? It doesn't seem like nothing,” I said, studying your crying. I was sure it was something bad, sure. “You've been sick for a while, (Y/N)...”

“Yes, well, I guess it's the weather,” you said, brushing it off, flashing one of those horrible, fake smiles.

At least I could do what I had gone to do. Maybe then you would stop crying. I can't stand to see you cry.

“Forgive me, (Y/N)” I whispered, reaching out my hand towards yours. You didn't move, you accepted my affection. That was a good sign. “I was so stupid…”

“What? Oh, no, no, Donna. That happened a long time ago. I've already forgotten,” you said, bringing your hand to my cheek. You were shaking.

“So, what's wrong?” I asked, nervous. I knew you were lying, I knew it. “I hate seeing you sad.”

You only sobbed harder, throwing yourself into my arms in a strange, desperate hug.

“Just, just hold me, okay? Please...” You asked with a voice that was brittle and distorted by crying. I obeyed, I didn't care about humiliating myself. You were mine and the responsibility was mine. “I love you. You know that, right?”

I nodded, letting myself be carried away by the heat of your embrace, by the horrible humidity of your tears on my skin.

That act of consolation, which went no further, was the last intimate contact I had with you. The more time passed, the more distant you became. You didn't come close to me, you didn't kiss me. You didn't hug me at night. What I thought was fixed only got messed up even more.

“It's good?” I asked, one night while we were having dinner. At least you were still talking to me, for now.

She’s going to leave, Donna…

You nodded with a genuine smile, which made me calm down.

“You know you it is,” you said amused, finishing your plate. “I'm sorry you had to cook.”

“I'm happy to do it, (Y/N)” I responded with a whisper.

“You're lovely when you want, huh?”

I smiled at the compliment and, wanting to be nice, I poured some wine into your glass, to which you denied while wiping yourself with a napkin.

“Mm, no, no thanks,” you said hastily, making me look at you confused. You always liked to drink some wine at night. You haven't done it in a while, and that bothered me.

I'm sure she thinks you poisoned her, anyway, how can she not think so? You're a dangerous psycho, Donna, you scared her, now she's scared of you...

“Why not? You liked wine,” I said, surprised, leaving the bottle aside, questioning you with my gaze.

“Yes, I like it but... I don't feel very well,” you said in a false tone, pretending to be dizzy, like you had in the last three months.

“Come on, drink, it will be good to you,” I insisted, wanting to silence those horrible voices that told you were afraid of me, were you afraid of me?

“No, really, I don't want wine,” you whispered in a more serious tone, with bright eyes.

“Drink,” I ordered, with anger again in my words. It was a test of trust, just that, (Y/N), why was it so difficult for you?

“I said I don’t want wine,” your voice darkened and your attitude scared me. I didn't want to lose you, don't you understand?

“Drink once and for all. I have this wine for you, and only for you, what does it cost you to value it?” I repeated, making you stand up with a grunt and with a surprising gesture, spill the glass on my head.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't. The wine ran down my face, staining my dress and leaving my dignity at its lowest level. I should have been able to defend myself, to demand explanations from you, but I wasn't.

She should die for that...

“There's your fucking wine, Donna,” You hissed angrily, putting the glass back on the table with a dull thud. “I'm going to bed.”

Before you disappeared from my sight, I reacted, getting up and running after you, grabbing your arm, squeezing it tightly.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Hey? Do you think you can humiliate me and get away with it?” I hissed, shaking you hard.

“Let me go of, Donna, you're hurting me,” you complained, hissing in pain. I freed you a bit. I didn't want to hurt you, I never did, (Y/N).

“You're the one who's hurting me, (Y/N)...”  I growled, determined to clear up my fears, to free myself from the demons. Maybe then, they would disappear. “You've been ignoring me for months, attacking me with false smiles... You don't come close to me... You barely talk to me, you avoid me... You don't let me make love to you, you don't even let me see you naked, and you expect me to let you go? No, I'm not going to let you go... You are mine...”

“Shut up,” you protested, slipping away from my arm. “You don't understand anything, Donna… And it's better to keep it that way.”

“Better for who, for you?” I asked ironically. “Come on, be brave and say it, say that you don't love me, that you're going to leave...”

“What? What are you talking about?” You asked, pretending not to know anything, as always.

“You know perfectly well what I'm talking about,” I hissed threateningly, pinning you against a wall. That time you were really scared, I could tell, you covered your body with your hands. “You think I don't know what that means, right? You pretend to be sick so you can be alone, and then you can think about how you are going to escape, right?”

You laughed ironically. That pissed me off, (Y/N), a lot.

“So you think? Wow, I thought you trusted me…” You mocked, pushing me away. It wouldn't be that easy for you. “You know what? I'm starting to think that maybe I should go.”

“You can’t leave!” I screamed furiously, chasing you again, only managing to pull the fabric of your dress, inevitably tearing it.

“Wait, no,” you said, desperately trying to cover yourself. “Gods…”

The house fell silent as I played with the fabric in my hands. It was useless for you to hide, I was watching you. Your body looked the same, but it wasn't. Your belly wasn't that bulging, I know. You weren't like that, you had changed, and there was a good reason for it.

“I didn't want you to know, I didn't want you to find out this way,” you sobbed, kneeling on the floor and caressing your belly with your hands, that belly that contained... My child, our child.

“(Y/N), I... Are you...?” I asked, stunned, surprised and with so many emotions that I was unable to process them all.

“Yes, Donna, I'm three months pregnant,” you acknowledged in a broken, agonized tone. You were really sad, I hated seeing you sad.

I bent down to comfort you, but I didn't know what to say. All that time of scorn and lies had a meaning, a wonderful one.

What if it's not yours?

The voice reached my head, but quickly disappeared. The joy was much stronger than my demons.

“It is,” I said to myself, which made you look at me confused. But there was something, something that I did want you to answer me. “Why haven't you told me?”

You got up with my help. Your horrible sobs still bounced off the walls, but your breathing was calmer.

“I don't know Donna, I... I was really afraid that... Lately you were so... weird that... I didn't know how you were going to react... I was afraid.”

“You were afraid of me,” I stated, hugging you while you nodded, your body still shaking.

“Yes, I... No, I don't know Donna... lately you were so gloomy, so dark...” You stammered into my shoulder, filling yourself with that aroma of wine that stained my clothes.

“I haven't been honest with you, (Y/N)” I said, pulling you, wiping away your tears. “This is my fault, I... I thought you would leave, that you would leave me, that you would abandon me... I, the... The voices in my head kept tormenting me and I thought that if... If we had a child...”

You looked at me and nodded. There was no fear, or anger in your eyes, that baffled me.

“It doesn't matter what it was like,” you said, putting a finger on my lips to shut me up. “Just, just tell me that you want it, Donna, that you love this baby as much as you love me…”

I smiled strangely, not really knowing how to interpret that reaction. I forced the voices to speak to me, but they didn't. The hand you placed on your belly made any fear disappear.

“I would never abandon you, Donna... You are the love of my life,” you whispered, letting me caress your swollen belly, letting the positive emotions overcome the negative ones. My baby, our baby. It was a dream.

“Could you forgive me?” I whispered, getting closer, resting my forehead against yours, closing my eye to feel more, to feel our child, your skin next to mine, to feel that I could have a family again.

“Only if you promise me one thing,” you said, moving away, letting me look at you. I nodded, nervous, free of those horrible voices. “Promise me you will never listen to those voices again… Promise you will take care of me, of the the baby… Please, promise me you will take care of us… And yourself…”

“Of course,” I said enthusiastically, truly smiling for the first time in months. I only felt love, happiness, the desire to be a family, a real one. “I will always take care of you, I promise... I love you... I love you so much...”  I said, hugging you, kissing you messily, giving an apotheotic end to that horrible time, to those doubts, to those voices... It's over.

She will always be with you, you will be a family, you will be happy...

“Me too, Donna,” you told me, moving away from my kisses while you laughed, “But... Promise me something else.”

I nodded again, unable to hold back the tears.

“For the Black Gods’ sake, take a shower, you stink of wine...”

[zepskies]

Hey loved your Sam having a crush on Dean's gf! I was wondering if I could request the flipped version where Dean has a crush on Sam's gf 😏😏

Oh my God, hun! 🫢

The way I didn't even contemplate this!! But it's so delicious...

(And thank you for reading that Dean imagine! It was angsty, but oh so fun. 😘)

See this imagine for context: You are Dean's one exception.

Word Count: 1,300

Imagine: Dean gives you an impossible choice.

Dean hates this. He hates it more than anything.

He hates the look of you, all soft curves and smiles that brighten your eyes. Your hair looks even softer.

(He wants to tangle his fingers in it, tight, until your voice echoes in his ear.)

He hates that you bake cookies on Saturdays. (He also hates that you're learning how to make pies, just because he mentioned off-handedly that you should try. If your snickerdoodles are this good, he can only imagine what you could do with some cherry filling.)

He hates that you greet him, every morning, without fail, with a hand on his shoulder and asking how he's slept. (Even better if you'd joined me, he thinks.)

And then his mind gets truly creative, imagining all the ways he could make you lose sleep. All the ways his hands and tongue could get creative, tracing the contours of your body.

He hates all of that too.

But what he hates most of all?

That you're Sammy's girl.

Sam's known you longer, since college. The two of you reconnected after the second apocalypse diverted. Or was it the third one? Dean's lost count at this point.

So you're smart. Sam studied Latin, but you studied Greek and Spanish, and even symbology. You consider yourself a linguist -- a fact that had Dean grinning from the moment he met you...

But as many times as he made you blush and smile with his charm and a well-placed joke, it was Sam who hooked you with one of his dimpled smiles and asking you for help on a case.

You'd agreed, for him. The two of you bonded over your nerddom, with heads bowed over ancient texts and shared personal history, and Dean tried not to feel like an outsider.

And yet, even when you fell for his brother. Even when you moved into the bunker, taking up his counter space with your ridiculous baking appliances. Even when you doted and touched and kissed and promised Sam more with your eyes, Dean couldn't shake the feeling that he'd missed his chance.

So Dean backed off. He made excuses not to be around you and Sam when it got too much for him. Had to ignore the way his stomach churned (and maybe his heart clenched too).

...Until his chance comes. He sees it.

He's also a bit drunk.

"Aw, Dean. You okay?" you ask, picking up a large, empty bottle of whiskey by his hand, which still holds a fifth of a glass.

"Oh, I'm good," he replies, raising his brows with a smile. "I'm real good."

You snort with a laugh. He smirks at the sound; he would never admit it, but a small part inside him always swells with warmth when he makes you laugh.

You bring him a glass of water with just a few cubes of ice. You know he doesn't like it packed to the top. "Drink this."

"What's the magic word?" Dean teases, even as you take the glass tumbler out of his hand.

You then sit next to him at the kitchen table and offer him a wry smile, resting your chin in your hand while your elbow rests on the table. "Please, will you hydrate yourself?"

"Already did," Dean remarks.

"Dean," you say, more seriously gesturing to the water. "Please."

He hesitates. But seeing your face, he finally rolls his eyes and dutifully sips at the tall glass of water.

You reach out for his shoulder. His inebriated gaze is drawn to your hand, the smooth skin of your arm, and back to your face that shows soft concern.

"You don't drink like this unless something's on your mind," you say.

Dean falters. When did you get to know him so well?

"What, a man can't drink alone anymore?" he says wryly.

"He can, but he's gonna have to spill his guts sooner or later," you smirk. Dean grimaces at the image. Suddenly the Jameson sloshing around in his gut doesn't feel all that nice. But the longer he looks at you, the worse he feels.

"Trust me, you don't wanna know," he says. He gestures, with the hand that holds his glass, up at his head. "'S not for newcomers."

"Yeah, but I'm not a newcomer, am I?" you quip.

Dean can't help it. He stares at your face. Your damn perfect face. Perfect for him.

His heart clenches with the pain of guilt. With thoughts he shouldn't have. How he'd rather slit his own wrists than hurt his little brother. Not like this, for fuck's sake.

But Dean's got a problem. It's eating him down to the bone.

He wants you. He really wants you. More than he's wanted anything in so long...

"You really wanna know?" Dean asks. His voice is both a rumble and a coarse whisper. His green-eyed gaze falls to your lips.

For your part, you suck in a subtle breath. Your eyes widen, and your body's frozen, suspended in time.

You stare back at Dean's handsome face, overgrown with stubble, like he’s forgotten to shave. And you finally know what he's been hiding for the past few months. Why he sometimes ducks out when it's supposed to be the three of you, hanging out, watching a movie, sharing a pizza, being friends and family all at once.

You sometimes thought Dean had something against you, no matter how many times Sam has said, "That's not it." With one of those pensive looks on his face.

Like he knows something you don't, and just doesn't want to speak it into existence.

But then, Sam would distract you with his hand stroking your cheek. A kiss to your lips, sweet, but with urgency. You like that about Sam. You even love that about him -- how he can be both kind and considerate, but passionate in his affections.

But now, you stare at the eldest Winchester's face. You don't even know what you're thinking.

Dean sees you fidget, and has a feeling that you’re blushing.

He leans in, slowly. He’s mere inches away from finding out how sweet you really are.

He hears your shallow breath. His eyes flick up to yours, briefly capturing you again. You smell whiskey on him, but it doesn't completely drown out his cologne. His Deanness.

You can feel your face heating up further, down to your neck. What the fuck is happening right now?

"Tell me no," Dean says. Tell me to stop, or I swear to God...

"Dean, what..." you whisper. But that's not a no.

Still, he can't. He just can't do it. Not to Sam.

Dean just reaches out with a hand to soothe a gentle thumb across your cheek. He realizes then that he loves you. He loves you enough to let you go, if he has to.

"It comes down to this," Dean says. His voice is deep, full of grit and desire. You can see it in his eyes. He sees the conflict in yours.

He swallows. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, but he uses every ounce of self-restraint he has left, forcing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

"You've got two choices, sweetheart," he says. And he pulls away, leaving you there at the table.

Dean doesn't know it, but your heart is about to burst just like his. What the hell! How could he do that? Why...

But you realize then, holding a hand to your wildly beating, guilt-ridden, confused heart.

You never told him no.

AN: I love Sam, don't get me wrong. But because I'm unequivocally a Dean girl, I had to leave it a bit ambiguous. 😏

Read the Sequel!

Here's the requested sequel to this, in which you have to make a choice (contains both Sam and Dean endings):

Imagine: Choosing him.

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[bonefall]

It's certainly a writing choice to make a book about a mother's grief while ignoring her relationship with her remaining daughter. Alas, Occam's razor strikes again. Do you think they're going to suddenly give Thriftear more relevance in Star? I'm looking forward to seeing how you flesh her out, I've always loved how much care you put into family dynamics no matter how small they are in the grander scheme of things.

I'm honestly quite cynical on this front. We probably won't get a lot of Thrifty in Star. I think what's going to happen to Canon!Thriftear from this point out is that she is going to lose any personality traits that really make her unique as she transitions into becoming Moonpaw's mother.

She will be a mild-mannered, kind woman who is neither too harsh or too permissive. Any personality flaws she retains will just be related to what the plot requires Moonpaw to feel negative about. If we're all right and Moonie is a weirdgirl, then Thriftear will be a Mom Who Just Doesn't Understand.

I hope I'm proven wrong, but call it a hunch based on the detail we DID get from Ivypool's Heart; "Compared to her interesting siblings who are too neat and too messy, Thriftear cleans her den in the most normal way." Goldilocks middle child.

In any case,

I find family dynamics to be one of the most important aspects of BB, so anything I adapt that involves Ivypool is gonna involve Thriftear too and that is a PROMISE.

In BB, Ivypool is the adopted child of Lionblaze and Cinderheart. It was only revealed in BB!ASC that she is the forbidden child of Jayfeather and Poppyfrost.

This means she is fiercely Firekin. Squilf has always been her grandmother-- BB!Lionblaze was adamant about that, when Brambleclaw disowned him.

Fernsong is an ex-kittypet, and the primary parent of the kittens. Their "Mi."

This fixed Moonpaw's parentage problems pre-emptively. Bayshine and Thriftear are NOT cousins in BB

HOWEVER I STILL SAID NO.

It's still a little up in the air, but I'm leaning HEAVILY towards Bayshine and FLIPCLAW being the parents of Moonpaw. Two very silly dads and their weird child.

If the dynamic between Moonpaw and her parents ends up being more distant or unhealthy though-- it'll probably be Thriftear and Plumstone.

BB!Thriftear has a VERY strong personality in my mind. She's Firekin and proud. Bristlefrost is gone and she is dedicated to carrying on her strength and ambition in her place.

Since they were young, they both planned on doing big things in the Clan. Thriftear is serious and a bit sarcastic, intense personality.

Plumstone has just as much raw ambition, but in a sort of laid-back, authoritative way.

As a couple, they're fantastic at "Good Cop/Bad Cop" plays. It doesn't matter how hard it looks like the two of them are fighting-- it's a trap!

They will ALWAYS end up turning a united front on you. They are terrifyingly good at working as a team.

So, bottom line is, I'm not giving this up to accommodate canon unless they end up giving me something REAL interesting. I'm very fond of the BB!Ivykin family!

[obexes]

CATALYSIS

PT. II

R.C x READER • R.G x READER

Warnings: Smut, Self-Sabatoging Reader, Manipulation, Small Amount Of Dub-Con (Fucking Rafe), Underaged Drinking, fingering

A/N: The next part will be longer, and this might end up being 10 parts bc the plot, oh I'm gonna let it cook. I tried to get this out ASAP, while juggling too much other shit. My mental health is sickly, so enjoy my degenerate fantasies. Feedback is so appreciated and encouraging y'all :)

Word Count: 7.5 K

Sundays were always your favourite thing about your parents being home. The smell of Italian sausage and carbonara had summoned you from your room to the living room, where your family sits spread out around the large room, with their dinner plates.

When you and Nicky were kids, your Mom would lose it if she caught you guys on the eggshell coloured living room carpet with anything darker than water. Ever since Henley and Patton were old enough to eat on their own, your dad has enforced mandatory family time, which was simply eating dinner while watching a movie together on Sundays.

To be fair, despite all the travelling, they tried really hard to be home every Sunday. You took your spot at the coffee table and picked up the only unoccupied plate.

“I’m feeling Marvel tonight.” Nicky commented, twirling his fork around in his pasta. “Or maybe Disney?”

“Turning Red!” “Inside out!” Your younger brothers both called out simultaneously. You bite the inside of your cheek to stifle a chuckle as your mom warily eyes the excited kids, or more accurately, the food balanced on their laps. She’s hopeless, you think freely.

“I’m thinking we should watch Euphoria. Bring some real world problems into this oasis.” you comment, earning a look from your Mom as well. Your older brother's idiot laugh doesn't go unnoticed.

Your Dad raises his wine glass to his lips. “I don't feel like having a stroke at 39. Peter Pan and Wendy it is.” Despite the child-like film, you all cheer as he hits play. Finally you start to dig into the meal your Mom, with the help of little Patton, made.

After you all finish eating, your dad pauses the film. You and Nicky carry the dishes to the dishwasher, load and start it, before making your way back to the living room. Your parents are curled up together and you take the spot on the other side of your dad, while he wraps an arm around you, the boys pile up on the mountain of blankets covering the floor.

As he plays the movie, you find your mind wandering to last night. To what you did in the hot tub at Tanneyhill. To Rafe fucking Cameron. Part of you felt guilty about messing with Roman’ s cousin and lying to your Mom, but the other part of you was burning. Burning to feel his hands on you again, burning to feel that intense pleasure over and over, and burning to know more. And then there was an even smaller part that wanted to know what such an intimate thing would feel like with Roman.

Even though you were still pissed at him for a number of reasons. You never made it back to Rafe’s room last night.

⊱✿⊰

“You're sleeping in my room tonight, gorgeous girl.”

You giggle quietly as he opens the back door and carries you the few steps across the kitchen, to plop you down on the island. “Want some water or something?”

You swing your legs back and forth, feeling the effects of the alcohol you'd been consuming since you got here. “Yes, please.” You turn your head momentarily towards the doorway as you hear light footsteps upstairs. You brush it off, enjoying your inebriated break from everyone else in the world but the man who just made you cum on his lap.

Rafe grabs two waters and comes back to stand between your legs. He moved nervously, you noted. He looked at you, like really looked at you, as he handed you a water bottle. “You okay? How are you feeling after... well- after everything tonight?”

“I'm good, Rafe. I had.. fun.” You reassure him with a small smile, unsure how to phrase it but wanting to reassure him. Which is still more than Roman bothered to do for you.

He gives you his signature panty dropping, schoolboy smirk. His tone is still nervous, however. “So it was okay? I mean, that it was me?” He slides his hands up your thighs coming to rest them on your hips. You could feel a flush of heat creeping up from where he’d just touched your thighs making its way all the way to your cheeks.

“Yes, Rafe.” You manage to say. His touch is intoxicating, his eyes captivating. You find your arms wrapping around his neck, hands burying themselves in his soft, dark blonde hair. “It was better than okay.”

He leans in to plant a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips before leaning back slightly and catching your eye. You tug him towards you and his lips meet yours devotedly. He pulls you closer to the edge, your bodies meeting again, chest to chest. He bites your swollen bottom lip and separates from you only to tilt his head and kiss you even deeper.

His hands move to grip the sides of your ass and you whine against his lips, causing him to grip you harder. Still chasing the feeling he gave you outside, you push your crotch against his as best as you can from your place on the counter.

“Y/N.” He keens,”I'm never gonna get enough of you.” Rafe buries his face in your neck, leaving warm and wet kisses, leaving his hands to grope your sides.

Lost in the lust washing over you, you both hear the telltale pad of multiple pairs of feet, too late.

“Oh shit” A giggle. “Dude!” Disgust.

“What the fuck?” Anger.

Your head whips over to see three shocked teens standing at the entrance of the kitchen with varying reactions. Rafe slowly lifts his head but doesnt look away from you. Your mouth opens and closes, floundering for words. You look between the three and Rafe as you push him away and jump off of the counter.

Nicky and Mia are slowly starting to snicker, but Roman is just staring at you with disbelieving eyes. The other girl is nowhere to be seen.

“Okay, now this. This makes more sense.” Nicky laughs, referring to this morning when your parents caught you and Roman in your bed, asleep.

“Looks like you have a date to midsummers now, Y/N.” Mia comments with a raised brow.

You remain frozen, aside from your bottom lip wobbling and you biting it in a second attempt to keep your tears at bay tonight. How many times can one girl be humiliated in a day? You don't even want to look back at Romans face.

Rafe eyes your wobbly lip and reaches for you, tugging your hand into his. “Hey, wanna go to sleep now?”

“What the fuck is this? What's happening right now?” You look up from your entwined hands, at Romans dubious tone.

“Roman-”

“Come outside, Y/N.” He walks past you both, through the doors you just entered from, ignoring Mia calling his name on the way out.

You inhale a deep shaky breath. Your brother casts Mia a clueless, questioning glance, which she ignores as she's focused on examining you and Rafe. “I should...” You trail off as Rafe squeezes your hand softly, meeting his eyes.

“Its okay. I'll talk to him later, yeah?” He places a quick peck to your head.

“Y/N, what's going on? I feel like I'm missing something.” Your brother comments quizzically.

Rafe moves to usher them out of the kitchen, “Later , man.” You hear him mutter quietly to Nicky, who meets your gaze one more time before turning back to the den area. Mia lingers a second as you squeeze and shake your hands out, nervously.

“He’s never gonna get it together. Not for you, princess. Listen to Rafe, maybe that way you can stop stepping on people's toes and you won't get hurt.” Mia says the words quietly, but her tone of voice makes it clear that it's a threat. She smiles at you and follows in the direction of two older boys, while you do your best to ignore her and choke down all of the unpleasant feelings building up and make your way to the patio doors.

When you open the door, you immediately see Roman sitting on the porch swing with his head back, looking up at the sky with his usual pout. He doesn't move, or say anything so you walk over to him and sit down. Anxiety wracks your body, as you prepare to inevitably have an uncomfortable encounter with the bipolar boy you called your best friend.

You risk a glance at him and are alarmed to see moisture pooling in his eyes, “Roman.” You whisper. “Hey, I-”

“What was that?” He sits up and turns to face you.”Just- what the hell was that?”

Your eyes widen a little at the intensity of his behaviour. He takes one of your hands in his and looks at you expectantly. “Was that just you guys being dumb, or was that -” He stutters for a second and then takes a deep breath. “Or was that something more?”

“I dont know.” The truth, you were too drunk to decipher your current feelings toward Rafe.

“What?” He scoffs. “I just caught you making out with my cousin,Y/N, and youre saying you don't know why?” He drops your hand, and faces forward, rubbing his eyes in frustration. Your eyes narrow at him. He was the one who'd failed to verbally recognize the fact that something definitely happened between you two. He's been avoiding it hardcore for the past month or so.

“No, Roman, I don't. Besides, you didn't catch me doing anything.” You snap. “The word ‘catch’ implies that i’m in trouble, and I can do whatever I fucking want, technically. Nobody else seems to give a damn about my feelings.” You run your hands through your messy hair. Maybe you shouldn't have thrown that in his face but at the moment, he was pissing drunk you off.

The lanky boy looks at you with ferocity lurking beneath his incredulous expression. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Use your fucking context clues.” You cuss back.

He just stares at you as you attempt to avoid looking him in the eyes. For a second it seems like he's going to finally acknowledge the kiss you shared, weeks ago. You see the recognition in his features for a fraction of a second before he’s up, pacing. “You're ridiculous. Seriously, if you think Rafe is gonna commit to you, or treat you well for that matter.”

Your mouth falls open in shock when you hear Rafes name come out of Romans mouth. He didn't just blatantly deflect the topic of conversation, did he? Bastard.

“Jesus, have you lost your mind? You know what kind of person he is, Y/N. I thought you were smarter than that.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he spews his bullshit.

You take his dramatic, silent irritation as an invitation to add fuel to the fire, fed up with his week-long diversions from the underlying issue in your friendship. “Yeah, well, at least he didn't kiss me and then pretend it never happened.” You stand up and cross your arms defiantly.

Roman sighs a deep, shaky breath of air. “Y/N... Jesus. You really wanna do this, huh?” You look up, toeing the area of grass you'd just been staring at. His face, his eyes, his whole demeanour are pleading with you to stop. “It was my first kiss, Roman.”

He shuts his eyes for a second and you watch as his breathing becomes a little heavier. When he opens them, he starts toward your teary eyed figure but you step back and he stops in his tracks. “Y/N, i'm so sorry. I didn't know that.”

You nod, tears spilling over your waterline and cascading down your cheek into the ground. Where you wish you could disappear. You ignore the pain in your heart. You ignore the way this feels like a friendship ending argument. You ignore his own tears as they begin to meet yours in the soil.

“I know.” You sniffle, you didn't want to punish him. You don't even know what you want from this conversation. This isn't a good idea, you're drunk. You can't ignore the wave of anxiety that hits you, completely out of nowhere. “I just can't do this, Rome.”

You start to back up, but he follows you. “Do what?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and uncross your arms to instead wrap them around yourself. After a breath, you open them. Roman looks regretful. “Do what,Y/N?”

Be your friend, Is what you wanted to say.

“I can't see you right now.” Is what you say.

You turn around before he has time to see your face completely crumble. Panic, anxiety, and heart ache all fight for dominance over the sob working its way up your throat. You swallow it down and go find Nicky. You wouldn't be staying in Rafes room tonight.

⊱✿⊰

By the end of the movie, your two youngest siblings are asleep. With Olivia having every Sunday off, you and Nicky fold up the blankets quietly talking about the film. Meanwhile, your Parents had each carried a sibling to bed to be tucked in. You grab a stack of blankets and carry them into the hall to put away in the linen closet. When you come back to the living room, your Mom is refilling your parents wine glasses, preparing to watch another movie with your Dad.

Nicky makes eye contact with you and widens his eyes slightly, insinuating something up.

“Ah, the gangs all here. Good. Sit.” Your Dad walks into the den and clasps his hands quietly.

You and Nicky both sit down on a loveseat near the front door and exchange a look. Your parents only do these little meetings to drop big news.

“So, nothing major but Wednesday night you're both expected to be home early for dinner. We're having guests over and there's a surprise involved.”

Nicky groans,”Mom, please. If you're pregnant again, I'm getting emancipated.”

You scoff out a laugh at your brother's blatant statement, before covering it up as a cough when you get a look from your Mom.

“Dominique.” Your father deadpans. “If your mom is pregnant, I’ll take you all and run. It isn't that.”

Your mom downs her wine. “This is why they don't have respect, Joseph.”

Your Dad gives her a warm grin and wraps her up under his arm. “Like I said, just be home early for dinner. Understood?”

You and Nicky ultimately agree without too much prying for details. After bidding your Parents goodnight, you both make your way upstairs. Your brother stops at your door as you enter your room and leans against the doorframe. “So....” He trails off and you roll your eyes as you search through your dresser for a large Tshirt, settling on one that Roman left here.

“Yes, Nicky?”

“What happened last night? I saw you mackin’ on Rafe but why was Roman so mad?” He walks further into your room and plops on your bed.

“Nicky!” You whine, batting at him with the t-shirt in your hands. “Get the hell off my blankets, you went outside in that outfit!”

It's Nicky's turn to roll his eyes at your rules, as he dramatically rolls off of your bed onto a pile of laundry on the floor, stretching out like a starfish. “Whatever. So what happened? I noticed that you stayed at the house all day. And kinda have been for a while.” He adds.

You let out a dramatic sigh of despair and slide down your dresser so that you're sitting facing your bed. “I’m so dumb, Nicky. I think I fucked up.”

He sits up on his elbows, facing you. “Wait, what? What's the matter?”

You contemplate telling him everything for a moment. What's the worst that could happen? Then you think back to the last time you asked yourself that question, and any ideas of total honesty dissipate. “I don't know...” and then, you remember. “What did you mean when you said that me and Rafe made sense?”

He sits up all the way and musses his hair. “I don't know, I was drunk, Y/N. I guess I always just assumed you’d rebel against Mom and Dad. Rafe would make sense for that. More sense than your childhood best friend.”

"Me and Rafe are friends, too.” You point out, although you know it's not the same.

“Not like you and Roman.”

You contemplate this quietly. Nicky comes over to where you're sitting and plants himself beside you.

“Listen sis, I don't know what the hell is going on, but you can tell me if I need to kick someone's ass. I won't ask questions.”

You shake your head sadly. ”It's not like that. I just did a dumb thing and now I have to live with it.”

Your older brother stands up and ruffles your hair. “Well, that's nothing new, is it? Goodnight Y/N/N.”

“Goodnight, Nicky.”

He shuts your door and you change into your shirt before turning on your fan and hopping in bed.

After about 15 minutes of staring at your ceiling, trying to make sense of your feelings, you were over it. You were agonising over whether or not to check your phone for a text from Roman and beating yourself up over what happened with Rafe. You flip over and grab the TV remote. Deciding to listen to something scary, you settle on a rerun of the Paranormal Activity films and turn back over, letting the TV lull you to sleep.

Not 10 minutes later, when you're almost out like a light, does your phone begin ringing quietly on the nightstand. You register the noise and flail under the covers, frustratedly. You snatch your phone up and accept the call, barely registering the name on the screen.

“What?” You almost growl.

“Wow, hello to you too, beautiful.” Rafe’s deep voice rings through the speaker.

“Do not disturb means do not disturb, not call twice, Rafe.” You can't help your tone, your anxiety keeps you up most nights, and you were so close to ending the night on a good note, moments before.

“I'm sorry, I’d take any option that guaranteed your attention.” He laughs.” Did I wake you up?”

“Yes actually.” You sigh, readjusting your covers from the flail. “Did you need something?” “Can I come over?”

“Seriously, Rafe? Its-” You pull your phone away from your cheek and look at the time, faltering.

“Only 9 P.M.? Exactly.” You can hear his smug face over the phone. “So?”

You feel queasy at the thought of seeing Rafe, despite being so explicit with him the night before. It felt like a betrayal to Roman in a way because you two hadn’t spoken since the fight last night where he expressed his disapproval of Rafe and you together. Although a small part of you doesn't care about his opinion, after his blatant disregard for your feelings.

“I don't think that's a great idea, Rafe, my parents are awake downstairs.” You try.

He’s quiet for a second, and then there's an incoming facetime from him. You answer the call and you see Rafe sitting up, shirtless, against his headboard. He has to fight his smile, seeing you laying on your side, hair cascading around your shoulder like a waterfall of curls.

“Is it because of last night?”

You mentally smack yourself for answering a call where he can see your face. Rafe always knew when you were lying. When you guys were 12 and 13, you covered for him when he broke one of Wards Golf awards and he figured out that you had a tell. You couldn't make eye contact.

“W-what?”

“The real reason you don't want to see me.” He says in a bored tone. “Is it because of Roman?”

“No.” You roll your eyes.

“Dont lie to me, Y/N.” The dominant tone he's taking right now has you rethinking your previous statements.

“Fine, yeah. It Is, Rafe.” Pulling the covers up to your chin. “He’s one of my best friends, and you're his cousin. It feels weird that things are like this. I can't stop thinking about that stupid fight.”

You hear shuffling on Rafe’s end and then the sound of keys.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm comin over.” You start to protest but he cuts you off. “I'm gonna take your mind off of it.”

He ends the call and you're left staring at the screen dumbfounded. Now that he’s ended the call, you see a whole slew of texts and missed calls from John B and Kie, and even JJ asking you to join in on the boat day they had today. Nothing from Roman. He was usually always the first to cave after an argument, seeking you out almost every time. The lack of contact, admittedly worried you.

You sigh, sitting up in bed now. There are so many questions swirling around in your head. What was Roman thinking about? Was he still angry with you? What was Rafe thinking about? Was he going to try something? How were you supposed to hide yet another boy in your room without invoking your Mothers anger? More importantly though, how did you look right now?

You spring up and run to the ensuite bathroom. Your hair, once pinned up with a claw clip, now falls loosely around you with flyaway curlies everywhere and you wore only Roman’s T Shirt and a pair of boy short panties as makeshift PJs. You pull your clip out and stare at the excess tendrils of hair falling around you, trying to finger comb them down.

“Is it even worth it, for real?” You ask yourself as you eye the brush that would no doubt make your situation worse. Deciding that, no, it isn't worth it, you grab your mouthwash and gargle a mouthful before spitting it out, rinsing your mouth, and washing your face.

Back in your room, you realise how hot and stuffy it is. You unlock the balcony doors that face the ocean, so that Rafe can get inside. Then you pad across the floor and unlatch your bedroom window, going to open it for the breeze but nearly screaming out loud as it's pushed open, seconds later. “Ahh!”

Rafes hand shoots out to cover your mouth as he precariously balances himself between your windowsill and the branch he's perched on. He gives you an exasperated look. “Jesus, I literally live 5 minutes away. Move.”

You clutch your chest and take a step back just as he pushes off of the branch and pulls himself through the window. “Why didn't you just climb onto the balcony, you could've fallen.” You comment as he steadies himself.

Rafe examines your face, stepping closer. “Your Mom had all the trees near it cut down, remember?”

You’d forgotten about that. As soon as you turned 15 your Mom had to escape-proof your room because of an incident involving a party, a week prior. Which included cutting down the trees near your balcony and removing the garden trellis that crept up right beside it, leaving only an old oak tree beside the window that was across from your bedroom door. “Oh, right.”

You back up and sit on the edge of your bed, patting the spot next to you. Rafe pushes his hair off of his forehead as he takes a seat. The sound of the movie playing is all that can be heard as you both quietly observe each other. He looks really good in his simple blue tee and basketball shorts, and you can't help the natural, girly giddiness you feel.

“You look really pretty.” he starts.

Letting out a small laugh, “Shut up. I look like I was about to go to sleep. You look good though.” You go to smack his chest playfully, but he catches your hand.

“You're still the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart flutters a little at his words, but you quell it and withdraw your hand slowly. One thing Rafe and his cousin had in common was their notoriety as two of the island's biggest playboys. “Don't say things you don't mean, Rafe.”

Rafe smiles at you knowingly, yet you don't know why. “Remember when we were like...” He thinks about it. “I was 9 and you were 8. We were playing hide and seek with a bunch of other kids at Olivia’s garden party?” He questions.

You remember. You’d gotten locked into the old outdoor cellar, while trying to use it as a hiding spot. You'd been locked in for what felt like hours as you plotted a way out, the music and ongoing party drowning out your cries. As a kid you remember thinking you’d be down there forever, You nod, telling Rafe to go on.

“You had all the other kids going crazy, we all thought you’d gotten kidnapped but we were too scared to tell anyone.” He chuckles at the memory. “But then you walked around the side of the house covered in dirt and I remember being so happy to see you. Even though you were crying and looked like a mess, running for your parents. You were the prettiest girl to me then. You're still that same girl, now.”

You make a face, scrunching your nose. “Why is my near death experience such a significant memory for you? I could've died, digging that little tunnel under the door.”

“But you didn't.” He laughs, ruffling your hair. “Jesus, you suck at accepting compliments.”

“Yeah, well, you kinda suck at giving them.” You smack his hands away, smoothing your mussed hair. His eyes shoot to your bare legs as your T-shirt rides up. Then they flick up to scrutinise the shirt itself and you wonder if he’ll mention anything about its owner.

Instead he tugs at the hem of it with a sudden mischievous glint in his eyes. “Anything under here?”

You blush. “Rafe, shut up.” You weren't expecting Rafe to be here right now in the first place. In fact, you'd tried to avoid it. Just because you guys got drunk and fooled around didn't mean you suddenly were into Rafe. That's just what teenagers do, right? Yeah, he may look like a god and he always smells good but you didnt wanna risk your friendship with him or Roman further.

“Make me.”

His fingers slip past the hem, teasing their way up your thighs. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you swear you stop breathing. But when his fingers brush too close to your clothed pussy, you snatch at his wrist and he looks up at your face, fingers frozen over your core.

“Rafe, what do you want?”

“Honestly?” You nod, matching his heavy eye contact.

“I just wanna make you feel good, baby. ” He inches his face closer to yours, while you slowly start to forget why you stopped him. “Right now I really want to make you cum on my fingers.” He only breaks eye contact as he presses his lips against yours roughly. You loosen your grip on his wrist, your inhibitions melting at his actions.

He takes the opportunity to press his thumb against your clit, eliciting a soft whine into his mouth. Your breaths mingle together, hearts beginning to race in sync with the electric tension that's filling the air.

Rafe cradles your face gently in one hand, fingertips tracing the delicate lines of your jaw as your tongues swirl against each other. His warm touch causes a shiver to go down your spine and he smirks into the kiss. You feel his heartbeat against your chest as he lowers you onto the bed, his fingers stroking you over your panties.

“Rafe,” You coo against his soft lips. “Keep touching me there.”

“Yeah, Princess? Like this?” Rafe drags his thumb around your clit in circles, increasing the pressure. Your hips grind involuntarily towards his hand as you nod, a moan escaping your lips.

“Shhh, be quiet.” He presses another short kiss to your lips, letting go of your face to yank your shirt up to your belly and focus his gaze on his handiwork.

Rafe continues to tease you, your panties preventing you from feeling his skin. He looks up at you, watching your reaction as he ghosts his fingers over your entrance again. You were suddenly filled with a longing for something more - an indefinable desire that was rooted in your core, and it made you shiver with pleasure.

Rafe smiles smugly as he watches you, his gaze tender yet smouldering. He leans forward and kisses you, your mouths exploring each other with an intensity that takes your breath away. With each kiss, your concerns about Roman faded away, replaced by something new and exciting and unbearably sweet.

When he finally pulls away, Rafe drags his hand away from your pussy to brush lightly against your hips, tracing a gentle line along the curve of your waist. You shiver again, skin prickling with pleasure as he moves his hands lower.

To your surprise his fingers lace between yours, and he gently tugs you towards him. “Do you want me to keep touching you, baby?” You nod desperately, extremely flushed. “Can you keep quiet?”

You nod again and before you can protest his fingers are in your panties. He teases you slowly, and his breathing becomes heavier. You're lost in a world of sensation as his thumb finds your clit again, beginning to create blissful, swirling patterns.

His fingers slowly trail lower, to your entrance, and you can feel your body responding to his touch, almost dripping over his fingers. Your skin is alive with a pleasure you've never felt before.

Rafe groans while you throw your head back as he begins pushing his index and middle fingers inside of you, the stretching sensation too intense for you to take it. You grab at his forearm as he begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, the heat from his touch making you moan.

”W-ait.” You attempt to push his arm away but he holds you in place with his free arm, his pace becoming more insistent. The painful stretch begins to fade into something much more pleasurable.

“Let me make you feel good,Y/N.”

Rafe moves his fingers at a quick pace, repeatedly stroking against your G-spot until you're a whining, moaning mess. As you begin to feel yourself nearing an orgasm, you silently beg him to stop before you could release, as if that would make this any better. Rafe, however, seemed to be enjoying your reaction and continued his assault, his fingers sliding deeper and faster.

You felt your entire body ignite with a pleasure that was both overwhelming and exquisite. Your hands find his shirt and you ball it up in your fists, feeling yourself release, squirting on his hand and your covers. You’re screaming muffled profanities into Rafes palm as your orgasm finally engulfs you. Your body goes limp with relief, your breathing ragged as you lie there, trembling.

Rafe withdraws his fingers and sits up, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. You lay there for a few moments, trying to process what just happened. You felt embarrassed and ashamed, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the pleasure you had just experienced. As you slowly sit up, fixing your panties, Rafe's smirk widens.

"That was quite the experience, hmm?" he says in a smug voice.

You could feel your cheeks flush and you quickly look away, your heart pounding with a mix of emotions. Rafe leans closer and puts his hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him. "Hey, It's okay," he says softly. "You don't have to be embarrassed. I'm just glad I made you feel that good. That was fun right?"

You nodded, your face still flushed with embarrassment. You look away again, not wanting to meet his gaze. ‘It's just that... I didn't expect it to feel that way. I'm kind of overwhelmed. Sorry if that sounds stupid.”

Rafe pulls you into his chest and wraps an arm around you. “It doesn't sound stupid. I get it, I've never seen a girl squirt before, either. I'm sorry if that was too much.”

You roll your eyes, as he can't see you, at his boyish thoughts. "It's fine, Rafe.” You pull away from Rafes hug and stare at your carpet awkwardly. Sensing your hesitance he looks away from you nonchalantly, “You tired?”

Seeing the question as an out, you meet his eyes and nod, feeling the atmosphere in the room change. His smile is small, disappointed. “I'll see you tomorrow then? Or Wednesday?” You furrow your eyebrows. “The dinner that your parents are hosting..?”

You remember your Dads statement earlier, the dinner and the surprise. “Oh, okay yeah. You're coming?”

“Yeah, So are Olivia and Roman.” Rafe replies as he stands up, wiping his cum covered hands on his shorts. You internally cringe at how awkward this interaction is turning out to be. It's your fault, you have to fucking ruin everything. You nod your head as if you aren't mentally cursing yourself out. “But hey, Y/N?”

You meet his expectant stare. “Yeah?”

He kisses your forehead before backing towards your window, smirking as he opens it once again. “I took your mind off of it, didn't I?” And with that he's gone.

⊱✿⊰

He did not, in fact, take your mind off of it.

Two hours later, you're still awake, staring at your ceiling fan trying to drown out the negative thoughts eating you alive. You had a tendency to overthink, and with that came anxiety. The best remedy for your anxiety was alcohol, which not only did you not have access too at the moment, but it also caused you to make dumb bitch decisions, occasionally. You couldn't help but crave it anyways.

You felt incredibly guilty and even ashamed that you let things go that far with Rafe, especially given the fact that he didn't seem to be concerned about your actual feelings about it.

As the minutes go by and sleep evades you, you give up rolling over to pick up your silenced phone. You have a slew of unanswered notifications but one name immediately catches your attention. Sitting up in bed you click on the notification, fast as shit.

45 Minutes Ago

Romeo: Jelli bbeen

Romeo: com to our beecfh

Rome: Plz im srory

Fuck, I'm a horrible person, you instantly hit the call button, knowing that he’s drunk off of his ass. When the call goes to voicemail straight away, you hop out of bed and throw on a pair of shorts and crocs, slipping quietly out of your room determined to go make sure he's okay.

You pause at the top of the stairs, listening for the sound of your parents, when you hear nothing you creep down the carpeted stairs slowly.

FInally reaching the back door, you slide it open as quietly as you can and creep outside. Shutting it behind you, you turn around to walk towards Romans house when you spot a figure, down on the beach, near your family's dock.

You curse under your breath and hurry towards the figure. As you near, you can clearly see Romans broad torso hunched over, one arm laying on his knee holding a bottle of Jack and the other stuck in his extremely messy hair.

“Rome.” You call softly so as not to startle him.

He raises his head slightly, back to you, but doesn't move otherwise. “Jellybean?”

“Yeah... it's me, what's going on Roman?” You put a hand on his shoulder, sitting down beside him. “What are you doing sitting out here? It's almost Midnight.”

Roman looks at you in a mixture of melancholy and clear intoxication. His lips twitch into a slight frown, as if he is going to cry, but only momentarily, before he takes a shot and hands you the bottle. You take it, gratefully. “I needed to see you, talk to you.” He’s slurring, dangerously. ”I really fucking hate what happened yesterday.”

Before you reply you take a shot too, and sigh. “Which part?”

“All of it. I really fucking hated it all, guppy.” He turns towards you, his demeanor slightly more defeated than a minute ago. He was naturally a manic person, but when he was drunk, he went from tough guy to busting out every pet name in the book in hopes of being babied. “Seeing Rafe touch you, seeing you like it.... us fighting.”

Your eyes widen, slightly. “What does that even mean, Roman?

Roman stares at you with his sad green eyes, dejectedly. “I want to fix it. I fucked up and I want to fix it.” He taps the bottle in your hand and you hold eye contact as you take another drink, passing it to him afterwards, him doing the same.

“It's not entirely your fault, Roman.” You let your eyes fall to the sand between you. You hated lying, but you didn't know what was going on in his head and telling him about Rafe being in your room, less than 3 hours ago, would possibly just serve to make him more upset. “I shouldn't have kissed Rafe.” You omit the part about you grinding and cumming on his dick, for Romans sake.

He grabs your hand in his and pulls you to scoot closer, you do. “Ya’guys only kissed cuz’ I never talked to you about us.” he says. “M’ sorry if I hurt you baby. I love you, Y/N. I really fucking love you.” He cups your face, dragging his thumbs across your cheeks.

You hold your breath, deja vu from a few weeks ago hits you square in the chest. This is exactly how he kissed you the first time. You've wanted to hear those words from him for weeks, hoping that he was secretly in love with you too, not while he was this heavily inebriated, however.

You gently grab his hands and squeeze them, lowering them so they are between you both. “Maybe we should talk about this in the morning, bubba?”

Roman's lip starts trembling, barely noticeable, at the nickname. “Y/N, no. You deserve an explanation, please let me explain.” He whines. “I do love you. It wasn't about you.” He looks at your joined hands for a moment before placing a kiss on your knuckles and peering hesitantly up into your eyes.

You couldn't help but want to hear him out. Your heart constricts as he begins speaking in a pained voice. “It's my Mom, Y/N. Shes fucking insane. Do you remember, 9th grade, I was with Allie Mcentyre?”

You nod, pensively. You'd been friends with Allie that year, because she was dating Roman, before she abruptly cut you off. Roman seemed not to care, so you didn't either. “Yeah before she ditched us.”

He grimaces. “She didn't ditch us, Y/N.” You furrow your eyebrows in question. “She was the first girl I ever brought around Mom, and the entire fucking time, she gaslit and- and lied an' manipulated both of us." Roman pauses as he hiccups, and gathers his words. "She would text her cryptic shit from my phone and then delete it so that it seemed like her angry texts were random, she’d tell her that she wasn't good enough for me and me the same. Allie told me she didnt want to see me anymore after my mom told her mom that I’d been having sex with multiple girls at a time.” He chuckles. “I was still a fucking virgin. She just wanted to ruin what I had. I realized she’s only going to let me be with someone that she chooses for me.”

“Roman...” Your mouth opens and shuts while you process your next words. “Im so fucking sorry, that I didnt know about that. That's literally insane.”

Roman chuckles drily, you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “It's okay, I didn't tell you.”

You squeeze him and pull away. "I shouldve been there for you, I'm sorry."

Roman shakes his head, placing a hand back on your cheek, thumb resuming its soft, delicate strokes. “No. I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve the way I treated you. I love you, jellybean, please don't be mad at me.”

You gently press your palm against his hand but this time you don’t remove it. “I could never stay mad at you, Roman. I love you too.” How could you ever be angry with this side of him? Nobody ever gets to see this side but you. The whiskey stupor you were beginning to feel caused you to zero in on the tall boy beside you.

His lazy, responsive smile is so boyish and sweet, it makes you buzz with desire, and briefly you recall wondering what it would feel like to do what you did with Rafe, with Roman instead. They are different in more ways than they were similar. Roman is hard and broken, but his pure heart radiates through the cracks, whereas Rafe was a tried and true asshole, though you had to confess you didn't know him as well as you knew the boy in front of you.

“Y/N?” Roman bites his lip and a slight frown forms between his brows as he glances down at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

In lieu of answering, you tangle your hands in his hair and pull him to you, desperately connecting your lips. You caught Roman off guard but he quickly grabs ahold of your waist in his free hand, managing to hastily pull you onto his lap.

As your mouths slowly move together, a warm electrifying feeling spreads through you, time seems to slow down, allowing you to focus solely on his lips and the emotions they were making you feel. His hands find yours, intertwining them with his, solidifying the bond you two were experiencing.

You couldn't help but think about the way Rafe kissed you earlier, only in that his kiss was much less intimate, yet more hungry and physically intense. WIth Roman, it was a slow dance of tongues and lips meshing that made you soaked for him in a completely different way. You purposely rolled your hips over his and he groans, squeezing your joined hands. You break the kiss and lean back slightly, admiring the boy who has your heart.

“Hmm, baby?” His lips look a delicious, puffy red and his eyes are half lidded, he looks so sexy right now. Before you could help it, you’re grinding your pussy against his member again, both of you letting out satisfied moans at the friction. “Y/N, shit. What are you doing to me?”

The whiskey in your system has your body acting on its own, out of sexual frustration from the months of built up tension between you two, desperate to explore it with him. You just let his cousin finger fuck you. Fuck, two shots wouldn't be enough.

You pick up the bottle of Jack Daniels, resigned to the choices you were about to make, and downed two or three shots. You force yourself to ignore the burn, and Romans drunk, questioning gaze as you tipped his chin and poured some into his mouth. He shakes his head with a grimace, swallowing down the shitty tasting alcohol.

Without wasting a beat, you begin peppering kisses along his neck, and he lets out a spur of dirty, drunken noises from the back of his throat.

“Does that feel good?” You can't help but tease your clit along his clothed erection again, body moving intoxicatedly of its own free will, chasing the friction his shorts provided, as he struggles to answer and resigns to nodding. You move your mouth up to his ear, sucking softly on it before whispering, “Roman, I want you so bad, want you to fuck me.”

“Wh-” Instantly his hands are on your hips, pushing you slightly back. “Jellybean, what?” He seems almost instantly sobered as he examines your features. "I thought you were a virgin?” You flush at your own obviousness, feeling it even over the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.

“Well... I mean, I am. But, I want you to be the first.” You grip onto the bottom of his shirt, glancing down, doing your best not to appear as the tipsy, desperate slut you feel like.

Roman sighs heavily, closing his eyes for a second, squeezing your hips gently. “Y/N, I dont know about you, but Im really fucked up right now.” You nod, still not looking up but he lowers his head, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I want it to be good for you. I want it to be special, not like this, pretty girl.”

Your eyes begin to well up quickly, in humility at the perceived rejection and you look out at the ocean, wiping at your tears before they can fall. “I'm sorry, Rome, I'm so stupid. I'm sorry.”

“Love, you aren't stupid. Believe me when I say I want this as bad as you.” Roman shocks you when he removes your hand, that's clutching his shirt, to place it on his hard length. “This is what you fucking do to me, baby. And when the time is right, I won't just be the first, I'll be the last too.” He gives you a lopsided smirk and a delicate kiss on the lips.

You offer him a small smile in response, he was being such sweetheart and you felt horrible. At the forefront of your clouded brain, you were desperate to replace Rafe's touch with Roman's as if it would erase your prior actions, but you shove it to the back, focusing on his reassurance. "Is that a promise?"

“Of course, it is. I know I've been so wrapped up in my own head, trying to keep everything...normal, but I don't want to do that anymore.” He pulls you close again and rests his forehead against yours. “I want this, baby. I want you.”

No, no, no. Roman, dont. Not right now. The guilt is going to crush you. You look down. “Will you be my girlfriend?” His hopeful eyes await yours.

You're quiet for a beat too long before you slowly look back into his expectant face. “I can't, Roman... my Dad. You know how he is.” It's bullshit, but he doesn't know it. Yeah your dad would have an aneurysm but you didn't care in the slightest. You had to make sure that Rafe wouldn't say anything about what you guys did, and break things off with him first, before you made an even bigger mess. Roman was wasted, he might not even remember this in the morning.

Romans face falls a bit at your words. He just promised to endure his mothers psychopathy for you and you wouldn't even return the favour? You hate the look that flashes across his face and hurry to reassure him. “I'll talk to him, okay? After dinner on Wednesday.”

He nods somberly, “Yeah, okay. If you want to.”

You grab his face and plant a kiss on his pouty lips. “I do, Romeo, don't worry. And I promise, I will.”

He laughs at that, loving the nickname. You made many mistakes, but you wouldn't let this be one of them. The feelings that the boy under you made you feel, compared to absolutely nothing else. At least that's what you keep telling yourself.

[elllisaaa]

eli i’m having dirty bookworm thoughts again… they can at least break me from my reading slump not only make me more addicted to sunghoon 🤨 DOES SUNGHOON EVEN READ why am i coming up with these kind of ideas 😭

i’m thinking 💭 you’re writing a romance novel with a few sex scenes sprinkled in there and when sunghoon finds out about them after you give him to read your first draft he gets jealous?? you’ve spend so much time thinking about these things what if you were horny and you touched yourself after writing them out? and you didn’t tell him a thing?? he decides to do every single intimate scene from your book to you tonight but TIMES better 🙃

sunghoon is really going to be your bias sweetie i think, you're constantly losing your mind over him (but don't ever stop, i love it). it's so funny to me how we're always associating him with books lmaoo but i'm here for it and i love to write it everytime. 

SUNGHOON has always been very supportive of you and every project you started. so when you announced that you had been writing some novels and wanted to get serious with that, he couldn't have been more proud of you. 

he was so attentive to your every need whenever you started another writing session. he brings you tea or coffee when you're thirsty and cooks for you when he knows you've spent the whole day working on your novels and didn't eat. but sunghoon was always there to take care of you and help you out of your writing blocks by giving you idea, or reading your texts to help you improve. 

so when you told him that you wanted to start writing a romance novel, he was all in helping you even if he teased you a little bit by reminding you not to describe him too much as the perfect boyfriend. but apart from that, he doesn't try to interfere in the creative process too much, not asking about the plot if you don't mention it to him. but sunghoon is always there to help you whenever you need it.

it's not until you give him the first draft of your novel to read that he notices the few sex scenes that you also wrote. and listen, sunghoon is not easily getting jealous, he trusts you with his life, so how did words on paper were getting angry ? because he was. he could only imagine you thinking about all the dirty scenarios you wrote, all alone while he could have been there and make them come true. he couldn't help but wonder if you touched yourself while writing all this. 

sunghoon didn't even reach the end of the novel before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. you don't even understand what's happening until your boyfriend starts to undress himself. 

"you're such a naughty girl princess, writing all these things when you could've just told me that you wanted to get your ass spanked."

your cheeks were burning as you tried to defend yourself. yes, the sex scenes of your novel were self-indulgent, including all the fantasies you couldn't voice to sunghoon. but you didn't think that he would pick up on that. though he clearly did as he caged you in with his arms, lips inches away from yours.

"gonna make all these things you wrote real hm ?"

and he would so do that : manhandling you in all the positions you described, slapping your ass, fucking you rough until you cried and letting you sit on his face. eveyrthing you wrote, he did it ten times better, resulting in you orgasming too much time to count and your body dripping with sunghoon's cum.

"now you will tell me everything you want baby, right ?"

when you nodded mindlessly, too fucked out to focus on anything else than his beautiful face and his cocky smirk.

"good girl. you know i'm the only on to make you feel like that"

[jazzyblusnowflake]

Love really bites

[a small vuzi snippet uwu yall liked the oil exchange with nuzi so you get this too >:3 ]

V and Uzi were sitting criss-cross in front of each other, feeling awkward but still looking determined- they wanted to try exchanging oil for V, since Uzi already did it often with N; but while they lean in slowly, V takes a peak and sees Uzi with visor eyes shut and looking stressed, her bottom jaw clattering softly for a moment as her body shakes lightly- V feels a slight pang of guilt and and scoffs "ugh" pushing Uzi back slightly "look I'm not doing this when you're so obviously terrified-"

"wh- i am NOT-!" she crossed her arms, looking away, a slight blush visible on her visor- "besides- don't you LIKE teasing and scaring me-

V rolls her eyes- also crossing her arms "uh- yeeeah. I like playing with my FOOD- not-!…..not you….." both of them pause momentarily at this small confession- "…. you're… more than that… I guess…" Uzi softly peaks at V as the other turns away blushing severely.

V suddenly shook her head "UGH never mind-!! this was stupid anyway-! ill just go find real food-"

"H-Hey wAIT!" before she knew what she was doing, Uzi had jumped and grabbed Vs arm as the taller drone stood up- so now they are both standing and staring at one another and Uzis hold on Vs arm with lots of blushing lines. Uzi looks away slightly "I uh…. we can try again if... if you want?…"

V's optics hallowed and she felt heat rising in her core- the fuck are these feelings ugh- no wonder Uzi hates that she's been programmed with them- "o-okay fine- since you insist- lets just get this over with then-"

Uzi lines their bodies so that they'd be standing and pressing against each other slightly and they both tried leaning in again slowly with closed eyes-

-when suddenly Uzi yelps as she is hoisted up on Vs arms "V! what the hell-!?"

V smirks up at her "sorry shorty, if I wanna get that oil I need gravity to slide it down your throat into mine-" she licks her fangs momentarily as her 5 real eyes pulsed slightly brighter with sparks which made Uzi blush even more- feeling slightly turned on at the display- she felt like V was gonna eat her alive and somehow she was fine with that-..............shOO BE GONE THOUGHTS-

Uzi shook her head "F- fine! ugh bite me-"

"be careful what you wish for~"

Uzi grumbles as V smirks wildly at her but instead of retorting with a snarky answer she lightly holds Vs cheeks and leans in again, her eyes fluttering closed as Vs smirk fades into a nervous frown and she swallows nervously as her hold tightens a little on the other drones back-

it starts with a peck and then they press their lips against each other more firmly, tilting their heads ever so slightly- and both of their frowns disappeared softly as they got more comfortable. Uzi's hands and fingers move from V's face and neck to threading and curling around in her hair and V purrs lightly at the small tugs.

slowly V pries open Uzis mouth a bit more with her tongue as she laps at the oil shared with her from against Uzis tongue and lips, making some run away drops slide past their mouths towards their chins.

V was surprised at how much more calming and energizing this felt; not particularly her style of work but…. she thinks that she could definitely get used to this… maybe... but then Uzi momentarily makes a small surprised sound that made V grip on her a little tighter subconsciously. Uzi presses slightly back against V's tongue with her own and her soft mewls fueled V in other ways-

Fuck her noises were almost as tasty as her oil, V thought momentarily before she caught herself-

They both part with a small gasp, swallowing whatever was left in their mouths and V had a few seconds to admire Uzi's light headed state from losing her oil before she blinked, slightly shaking herself out of it, blushing-

she put Uzi down a bit faster than intended but made sure she doesn't fall over- looking away and blushing, with Uzi doing the same- panting a little to get some chill air to her rapidly heating circuitry.

V thinks of what to say really cuz that was... certainly an experience she had.... "Uh yeah soo- thanks or whatever- that was.. definitely pretty boring to be honest, I can see why you'd like to do it all day with doodle boy over there-" she crosses her arms again looking away as she coughs lightly in her fist- blush lines being repressed but still visible-

Uzi blushes at the comment of her and N exchanging Oil- though she was hoping V didn't notice when they had parted Uzi was zoomed in on V's fangs and almost wanted her to ACTUALLY bite her like dear robo christ on a jet fueled scooter-

she ends up looking away too at V's words, blush painfully obvious "you're WELCOME for not letting you starve or whatever-! not like i care or anything hmph-"

they both stay like that looking away for a while… when Uzi notices V's tail wagging slightly behind her... oh.

"….b-but if you wanted any more… well uhh- you know where to find me I guess... ykNOW-! CUZ- it'd be a drag if we had to constantly deal with you over heating and stuff- y-yeah- that-!" she explains with a slight panic and waving her hands around

V looked at her with hollowed eyes and blushes as her tail twisted around her leg to keep it from wagging more- "um.. y-yeah totally sure- whatever- doubt ill NEED it tho- she slightly looks away, her finger playing with a strand of her own hair-

suddenly there was a sound of a loud clang and they both look at N jumping in the pod giddily with a loud "im baaack-!"

they both turn towards him looking gobsmacked with blushes and N had a moment of pausing and looking at Vs slightly ruffled hair and the two of them wiping the oil dripping from their mouth and chins-

N's expression turned into a deadpan one- "I leave for like…. 5 MINUTES… and you guys are making out without me??? >:( "

[blossomthepinkbunny]

My full Stolitz rant

Like many other people I really dislike Stolitz as a ship and the newest episode proved that further. I decided to just make a full rant about everything that comes to mind, instead of making multiple posts, focused on different general aspects/themes of HB or HH like I usually do. So this will not cover the issues I have with the writing of other characters like Stella or Octavia (I briefly talked about Stella and the aspect of woobyfying Stolas in my Adam post already). This also won't cover general problems with writing relationships in HB/HH or anything that breaches out of their relationship for that matter. It will probably also be focused mostly on Stolas because Blitzø isn't in the wrong in their relationship really.

One of my problems is that I've seen some people try to defend Stolas' actions by referring to Blitzø as a sex worker to which I just have to say:

1. He isn't a sex worker, he's an assasin. He only has a transactional relationship with Stolas, for which he didn't have a choice, otherwise he would lose his job and the opportunity to provide for his workers and daughter. It's not like we see him generally have sexual relations for payment with other people, only Stolas which makes sense, because he isn't a sex worker and doesn't want to be.

2. Even if he was a sex worker/qualifies as one in the specific relationship he has with Stolas, that doesn't mean that he owes Stolas anything other than sex. It's not Blitzø's fault for not wanting to have anything to do with Stolas and he doesn't owe him kindness, understanding or love after what Stolas put him through, just like real sex workers don't owe a romantic relationship to any of their costumers.

It was genuinely kinda refreshing to see Stolas finally acknowledge what their relationship isn't good and that Blitzø needs to be away from him. And seeing him give the Asmodean crystal to Blitzø was a nice gesture. But this is immediately made irrelevant by the confusion of what Stolas' character is even supposed to be here. He goes towards being somewhat likeable by understanding that what he did was wrong and having that finally be recognized and called out in the show. Called out by Blitzø, who has many good reasons to dislike him and give Stolas that reality check. But then the show wants us to pity Stolas again by making him say that god awful cringy line and making me immediately roll my eyes again. Because them acknowledging the bad actions of the character (something the show wants to pride itself on so badly) was something I wanted to see ever since HB started to victimize that stupid owl. I was ready to see this character less negatively when the reality of his actions finally hit him, with the genuine breakdown Blitzø has because of him. But he gets woobyfied immediately so now he seems like a manipulative hypocrite once again, because the conversation they have might as well go like this:

Stolas: I want you to be free because I realized that the relationship I set up wasn't right and I don't want you to feel forced to love me. I care for you and I want to love you, but at the same time, I don't want you to have an obligation to be kind to me or have a relationship with me.

Blitzø: Is this a joke?

Stolas: No, I am giving you freedom, so you can stop feeling forced to do whatever I say.

Blitzø: So you're acknowledging that you suck and that you weren't nice to me and you're giving me the freedom to choose how I will proceed with our relationship.

Stolas: Yes, I am.

Blitzø: Well I do think you suck because of the reasons you mentioned and I'm gonna give you my perspective of the things you said and explain just how badly you hurt me, especially when you're just sending me away like this, giving the impression that you're throwing me aside, after you got everything you wanted from me.

Stolas: How can you think of me like this?! I love you so much and you just think I suck?!

What reason did Stolas ever give Blitzø to like him? Apart from the coercion even, there is no common ground they have. They never hang out just casually or talk like normal people, who would realistically be able to form a relationship. The only date they had (from what we can assume from the context clues in the show) that wasn't just a meeting for sex was in Ozzies and that went south really quickly. It honestly reminds me of Twilight, where Bella and Edward are said to be a great couple (by the movies atleast, haven't read the books) when they have never had a normal conversation or an interaction that could give them chemistry. All of the interactions Stolas and Blitzø had so far were either scenes talking about/having/having just had sex or them talking/singing about how tragic their lovestory is. The only exception to that are the scenes were they are children and that's obvious because it would be weird to have literal children talk about sex or about the tragedy of their relationship, when they've only known eachother for a day or so. But even these scenes don't make them seem greatly compatible or even interesting because they only hung out for hardly a day and then didn't interact for like 30-40 years until they meet again (for the first time since they were children) and Stolas just immediately assumes Blitzø wants to fuck him.

And what also weirded me out is when Stolas said something along the lines of: "why do you always make this about sex?". As if Stolas ever gave Blitzø a sign that he wants to have anything but sex from him. Again, Ozzies is the only example for that and after that, their relationship was not that important until now. But even then, Stolas made sexual remarks towards him in "Seeing Stars" and talked about how good he is at sex in "Western Energy". And this sexual relationship they have is something Stolas set up, when he could've also just given Blitzø the book without forcing him to have sex and get closer by genuinely being kind to him. We don't even really know what he likes about Blitzø except for how he is in bed, so why am I supposed to care about their relationship and be sad about it not working out. Because they never give us the impression that either Blitzø's or Stolas' life would be better with the other in it (this is excluding sexual context becasue Stolas made it clear that he doesn't just want a sexual relationship in this episode). The only thing they have in common is that they both have daughters they struggle with but even there is a huge difference. Blitzø desperately wants a good relationship with Loona and constantly gives her affection and compliments, to which she responds with annoyance and abuse. Stolas has a daughter so understanding and just really neglected by him, on one hand because he always prioritized Blitzø over her (something he'd probably judge Stolas for, because spending time with a daughter who actually likes him and wants to spend time with him would probably be one of his dreams).

And nothing of this is even mentioning the sexual harassment Stolas puts Blitzø through. It starts with the pilot and the first episode, where their deal starts, at a point in the story where Stolas' whole character joke was just talking about wanting to fuck Blitzø. In the first episode their deal is established, a deal Blitzø hastily agrees to, because he is literally being hunted down, something Stolas is fully aware of. In the second epsiode Stolas makes sexual remarks towards Blitzø in front of his daughter and in the rest of the episodes he is in general very touchy and diminishing, something Blitzø is never shown to be a fan of. Stolas also very blatantly either fetishes Imps or is downright abusive towards them, showing that he doesn't see them as equal and that Blitzø's assumption about Stolas thinking he's less important is probably true (which is just a great setup for a relationship I'm sure).

In the end Stolitz is a confused, manipulative, victim blaming mess of a ship which could be used to great potential, if there was ever a point were they use this dynamic to genuinely portray a toxic relationship that shouldn't happen, instead of acting like they're meant to be together despite the toxicity and as if Stolas deserves my pity when Blitzø rightfully tells him to fuck off. Sometimes people just aren't meant to be a couple because they genuinely are too different or have other issues. But they can't have the story be about Blitzø breaking away from Stolas, because then the show couldn't mainly be carried by shipping and selling cutesy merch of a couple which actually sucks.

I do not care for the stupid owl and I probably never will. I do not think Vivzepop has the writing ability to turn this whole thing around and make Stolas end up as a well-written, flawed but still sympathetic character. The more they go into victimizing him by showing all the characters that call him out as abusive, inconsiderate or heartless (Stella, Octavia, Blitzø), the more I will dislike him and miss what the show once started as.

[enderwoah]

im so unwell about q!pac no its not even funny anymore i need to put him in a terrarium up on a shelf and keep him safe up there. he doesn't deserve any bad thing, ever. i don't even care about "having a good story" or "giving your character a conflict" anymore, nah, no, if ONE (1) MORE BAD THING HAPPENS TO HIM IM GONNA LOSE IT!! IM GONNA START BREAKING THINGS!!!

he's so. sad. hes such a sad character. his insecurities about being useless to everyone are so real and so painful because he's not, all of us know that he's not, but we also completely understand why he feels that way because he's had everyone he loves ripped away from him and he hasn't been able to lift a finger to stop any of it. he's just left to sit in the ruins without any help. he's collateral to all the tragedy surrounding him and the favela 5 in general and he's. tired. not in the way that cellbit is tired (though that works, too). he's exhausted of feeling sad all the time. of crying all the time. of feeling that loneliness that gnaws holes into his bones and settles in the marrow and never leaves, not when richas' bed is empty, not when mike's bedroom has started to collect dust, not when he can't see a real, tangible presence in forever's dilated eyes. the only person he has is cellbit, and he could never ask cellbit to give up what he still has when pac has nothing to lose (and god, how selfless, how kind is that?), so when he figures the only way to get an antidote to the drug is to have the drug itself, why wouldn't he offer himself up? and if that wasn't the only reason he tried to get his hands on it, who could blame him?

maybe he took it first to just feel the effects and understand the angle it took in affecting his mind. maybe he just took it for research. do you think he had slipped by the second time? do you think he took it once and, for a short thirty minutes, found that he could forget about all the sorrow lining his lungs and breathe? do you think reality crashed back onto him after that first try? do you think he was scrambling to take it again, to go back to that...maybe it wasn't blissful ignorance, per se, but willful disregard? do you think he couldn't wait to be submerged so deep that he couldn't think one more time? do you think he was hesitant? do you think he kept promising himself, one more, one more, one more...

god he is so. so sad. i was watching phil's pov, so everything was like a neat little movie for me, and just. cellbit and forever arguing while pac was just sobbing in the background was AWFUL. just. awful. it hurt. (cc!pac was damn good at acting, too, and that DID NOT HELP.) the moment he stepped on the trap i felt like i was hit with a brick. like no, of COURSE we should NOT be putting PAC in a CONFINED JAIL CELL. ALONE. and i know it was for his own good but i still felt so so so sick. the way he immediately curled up in the corner. the way he was crying to himself. the way he instantly answered richas' birthday the moment bad asked for it. the way he got visibly more upset and terrified when cellbit started shouting at forever. what the hell. no seriously what the HELL.

and, like, oh my god, making him the one to solve the antidote? proving that even though he may have fallen to the drug (the drug which was basically created by GODS, by the way, lets be real, the federation is nawt normal), he's still so useful. he's still such an asset. he's smart and he's kind and he's charismatic and he's trusting and he's so so selfless and so so brave and so strong. tubbo put it perfectly. the fact that he's gone through all the horrible awful stuff he's gone through and he's still standing just proves how capable he is. how tough he is. cellbit calling him "my dear." pointing out the fact that he sacrificed himself without knowing he was going to come back. "i'm only afraid of being sad again." "you will be sad again. but you won't be alone." he's so. he's just. he's. im frothing at the mouth. he gave himself up to save the rest of the island from this plague that took one of his best friends and might've taken the entire island if he didn't do anything. under that stress. experiencing that level of loss.

pac is one of the toughest goddamn people on the island and if anyone on that server even dares try to imply otherwise i will do heinous heinous things, mark my WORDS.

[luminecent-sky]

I wanna hear your sahsr infodumping, lay it on me

I decided to use text to speech just so i didn't have to keep speaking to myself to remember the points i wanted to make tbh, olease don't mind the grammar screw ups, I'm very tired...

OK? How do I speak about him?Just this is about sunday ok, him in a self aware au He believes in anna like the order right if and he believes their grand plan right, well if he was you know faced with the concept of fate itself. I feel he would like have a little crisis. Like this is a man who's entire ideology parallels christian like beliefs. We see this in How he acts, how he was raised

If he was made aware of the player it would send him down onto a spiral. I think because if this is in my Aeon of fate AU. He would also believe in fate as like an ally of the order or he would think that if Ena, didn't get subsumed by the harmony that the order would have been subsumed by fate instead.

He would also think is that his plan is going all accordingly to the Weaver's strings, Is his plan had succeeded?It puts him in his mind. Then this is the will of order and fate.

And that's before he gets taken by Elio and the rest of the Stellaron Hunters, if we're talking after he fails then after all that... He'd be a little bit hesitant to follow with plans at first but that's only at first, becausehe would see that whole fight as him going against the will of fate, trying to break from the cosmic strings of the Paracae's tapestry. And he wpuld belive that becoming a stellaron hunter and not being able to interact with his sister ever again, losing it all is his punishment, Because if there's one thing Christians can do, it's to believe in a nebulous concept, like y'know, fate and it's punishment. It's just that Aeons are real now, so it does help,

That's just if he doesn't know this is a game if he does, he's a little bit more bitter, Because from the start he was supposed to fail. That no matter what he tried, he was never going to succeed with it. Especially if the player is the type to start light talking in the middle of the fight which I did. And the I got into- I got into a one sided (for me) argument with him, during the scene where he talks about the past, present and future, I was refusing his points in like actively getting frustrated at him, retailing genesis towards me like I didn't go to christians school, I was, I was literally being like. ‘Don't even explain Genesis to me. I had to read it for Bible study’, but aside from that I feel like if the player were to match his eye ideology and provide a counter-argument. He'd be all for it. Because he's basically a homeschooled Christian kid and like challenging the ingrained beliefs in homeschooled christian kids is like a different kind of fight, turst me i would know.

Yeah, but anyways, I fight his fight.I fight his boss fight at least thrice a week, after my weekly fights are done, just to like vent out my frustration, amd to listen to his battle lines.

I don't know how he would feel about the players saving for him.And you know trying to get his E6 S5,

But like the first time I saw him afraid I was like pretty angel character.I'm going to have him, I would sacrifice life, limb, organ and soul for him.

Sorry this just turned into me simping for sunday…

Ok

Going on to Aventurine, he's a different can of worms.

This is a man who has already been blessed by God and is or was holding a piece of godly power before he destroyed it in the fight with Acheron He already thinks life is a gamble, and if his next gamble in believing in us, the player? Well he's gonna come out on top, especially if the player decides to build him right and use him often… and why wouldn't you?

But of course under all that he's just a scared vulnerable guy who is scared of losing it all and failing his family and the people who helped him, he's lost so much and if the player could help him through it… show him his worth and a reason to keep holding on it'd heal a long wounded part of his soul that still calls itself Kakavasha.

Sorry this was so short, my brain focused on sunday and him only.