#a lot of yall play into the hands of abusive families and i hate it so much.

[wyrmwuud]

Bitches be like "why dont you go rely on your rich family !!" Whole time the person is being abused by that family and is actually trying to escape them and you've forced them to go back to that situation by cutting off their support and/or making them get fired and lose chances to get a new job. But sure yall are totally acab even though you act like fucking cops.

[minhosimthings]

Elysian || 18+

Synopsis: you never wanted to fall for the only son of the family yours hated. And yet you did.

Pairings: Mafia boss!Hyunjin × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, mentions of dagger, kind of knife play?, P in v sex, fingering, angst, fluff, forbiddened love, mafia boss au, mention of poison, blood, food and alcohol, reader wears a dress, implied mental abuse, fluffy at the end but it's really angsty in the middle sorry yall

A/N: ahhh this took a lot of time to write because I wanted everything to be PERFECT. and in my opinion this is the best shit I've ever written Mona 2am brain go burr. Also this is dedicated to my beloved @astraystayyh and Hyunjin's photoshoots which have made me go feral approximately 143 times

Red.

You remembered it as a hibiscus, decorating the gardens of your family's estate as child. You remembered it as the ugly hue of your grandmother's rug, the only thing you'd fixate on whenever the stench of blood filled your nose. You remembered it as your family's emblem, in a kingdom of money and roses and whatnot. You remembered red as death.

But you never thought you would have remembered red as the colour which outlined the shadows of the painting in front you.

You never though red would remind you of one of your most favourite persons ever, of his plump pink lips and gorgeous waterfall of hair you would decorate with rose petals anyday.

You never thought red would remind you of Hwang Hyunjin.

Red, as the multifaceted colour it is, fascinated you. It was like an idea in your head, hard to drive out, impossible to kill. What was red truly? What shades did it hide?

Red as a ladybug or red as a lobster? Red as a tulip or red as red as a new bride's cheeks? Red as lipstick or red as a gown? Red as roses or red as blood?

Red as the dominating colour of Hyunjin's palette was the correct answer to you most of the time.

You could recall the first time you had ever met him. Five months ago or had it been a year? You didn't remember much, just the fact that Hwang Hyunjin saved you, the 'enemy' from a bullet wound when he could have let you rot and made his family proud. The Hwangs were nefarious for their merciless behaviour, and yet you found in Hyunjin, a different kind of warmer mercy.

A mercy which you preferred because no one else gave it to you.

And that was how you found comfort in Hyunjin, a sense of familiarity that made you believe that you could be your true self with him and not just another painted version of you. Granted, he did paint you, in various shades of golds, violets and reds.

Painstaking as they were, you loved your short lived secret sessions with him. He was like a thief, quietly sneaking in through a window, and stealing away your heart with his demeanor.

Both of you came from families who despised each other, there was a certain Romeo-Juliet element to it all that both amused and frightened you.

But no matter what thing troubled you, you always had your memories with him to come back to. Especially those soft tender moments when you realised how much you craved a normal life away from the money and the blood.

You remembered one moment better than most others. It was the first time you said the poisonous word. It was that time in Italy...or was it Belgium? All you seemed to actually recall was the time you first walked into the love which Hyunjin gave you.

Dark chocolate eyes flickered over your naked body as it sunk beneath warm water, a bottle of liquid soap shone a bit in the candlelight as Hyunjin poured it into your tub. His ethereal figure was like a God in the pale moonlight coming from the tiny window.

“Just a little something extra to provide you some… relief,” he smiled, dipping his elegant hand into the waters to stir it around.

Hyunjin knew you were an assassin, carefully molded into one by your family, nevertheless he saw more than what he was supposed to. He saw you as a human instead. A human who was tired of all the blood she had spilt.

Your body easing into the water, you barely noticed the ripples of Hyunjin slipping his carved body beside you. It barely registered, his arm wrapping around you, the warm water pouring down your neck to rinse off the blood, the trickles that run down your face as he wets your hair and washed it clean of sweat and more.

You couldn't remember the last time you had felt like this, so relaxed so taken care of. So you said it, you said the word without a moment's waste.

"I love you" you had blurted out without a second thought, "I love you, Hwang Hyunjin." The name mattered to you in ways you hadn't ever fathomed before.

And the worst thing was he said it back. With a kiss to imprint it.

And now here you were, eyes flickering between the ceiling and each other. The warm light of the massive ballroom shone its glory onto you as you clutched your champagne tight to your bosom, making sure to distract yourself with it, whenever your stolen glances at Hyunjin were caught by someone.

You hadn't been forced to attend the ball by any means by your family, in fact you volunteered for it. You had waited eagerly for your target's name, your mother stressed that it was an important one, and as the quietest daughter it would have been easy for you to kill in plain sight and prove once and for all to your father that you were ready to take over as the heir to his 'buisness'. Maybe you'd finally have the fame and the power you craved off as a child, like some starved deer eating its own kind.

But now, you clutched the tiny vile of hemlock close to your hip, carefully dropping it into your pocket, all the while staring at Hyunjin across the room, who was laughing with someone you recognised as a painter Hyunjin adored. His raucous yet polite laughter, gorgeous strands of hair framing his face, your heart sobbed at the thought of slipping poison into his veins.

If you had even a modicum of respect for your own head, maybe you would have sneaked the hemlock into his drink at the slightest moment. Unfortunately though, you didn't and so it came to be that you resorted to dissecting a serene painting until hopefully Hyunjin ultimately noticed you.

The painting fascinated you, it was one you hadn't ever seen before. Dark blue traced the outlines two people, with grey hair and wisened foreheads, holding hands through a rough brown canvas. You smiled at the painting before taking a sip of your champagne. Love, eternally, was one of Hyunjin's most beloved topics to waste all his blue paint on.

Words rushed through your mind as your eyes traced each brushstroke. Whips of harsh sentences and scenes of conversations, contrasting the soft daubs of paint, flashed in front of your eyes.

'The Parks? Mum I can't do that!'

'You want to be useful to this family? Marry him and you'll be more than useful'

'But Mum...!'

'You think you have a say in this? Shut up and do what's good for that useless head of yours'

"Admiring my work, my love?"

You flinched slightly at the different voice, which sounded like spring rain and lily pads. Spinning on your heel to face the source of the voice, you found yourself melting into a pair of beautiful eyes, the kind of eyes that made thieves wonder why they ever bothered to steal pieces of art. His eyes—the color of an intoxicating champagne—beckoned you over with nothing more than a warm smile.

"What?" Hyunjin chuckled, seeing you stare at him, "Did I get fondue on my lips again?"

"No, just..." You trailed off, not finding the correct words, "You look good."

"As you do, my sweet." Hyunjin's hand took yours and brought it up to his lips, "God, I wish I could paint you right here."

"Hyunjin," you gave him a playful look, unsure of whether or not it was hiding your fright, what if someone saw?

Hyunjin's arms went to your waist, pulling you closer to him, which felt like syrup wafting through the air, sweet with a touch of familiarity. He leaned in, you felt his hot breath on your neck as he whispered, "None of your family or their spies are here don't worry."

You took in a shaky breath, as you felt his long, dainty fingers reaching up your thigh, fiddling with something strapped tightly to it. Hyunjin smiled into your neck, as he continued to fiddle with the leather.

"That's how they plan to kill me?" He chuckled, "With a dagger strapped to the ravishing thigh of the love of my life?"

"That's just Plan B." You whispered, shoving his hand off gently, as your eye caught a waiter in the corner glancing at you and Hyunjin, "Just in case the hemlock doesn't work."

"Willing to test that theory?" Hyunjin stepped away from you, leaving your body colder than you wished. His cocky smile, his raised brow and relaxed demeanour, he was like a like a cat lounging in a garden, at peace with watching the world pass on.

"In front of everyone?" You questioned, "don't tell me the only son of the Hwangs is becoming soft for someone like me."

Hyunjin's mouth stretched lazily as he grinned at you, extending a hand for you to take.

"Let's go somewhere private?" He asked, not giving you time to answer as he basically dragged you across the hall, where magnificent stairs led to the upper floors of the luxurious mansion. Gossiping eyes followed your movements, well, more precisely, Hyunjin's movements, as he led you up the stairs, making sure not to step on your tartine dress, as you carried the fabric behind you with regal grace.

"Now," Hyunjin smirked as you climbed onto the last step, now well hidden from the party downstairs, "Shall we?" And he broke into a run, dragging you behind him, giggling maniacally like a child in the summer. You were sure you heard your dress rip, but you had not a care as you ran with Hyunjin down the corridor, to the last door, his bedroom. The walls of the corridors were lined with paintings, Hyunjin's evidently, fading edges of canvases standing out against the ruby of the wall paint and the carpeted floor. You recognised each and every painting. A painting of a woman amongst daffodils, another of the same woman in an abandoned mansion which Hyunjin had always told you would be that women's one day. The day he married that woman to be specific.

'The woman in my dreams', Hyunjin told his family when they asked him who she was. 'The woman in my dreams', Hyunjin told his patrons when they asked who she was. 'You', Hyunjin told you when you asked, though you knew, but you still questioned him, in between chaste kisses on the neck and giggles. Hyunjin came to a halt in front of the oak carved door, a tiny metal label on top spelling his name in cursive letters.

"How about we put that dagger to use then?" Hyunjin pressed your back against the door in no time, devouring your being as he tasted the honey of your elysian lips. His hands went again, to your thigh, fumbling to take the dagger out, but you were quicker in your actions. Your hand had been resting on the door's handle, and as you tugged on it, both of you fell back into the room, lips never wanting to leave each other's company.

"Jinnie," you made a sound of pleasure as you pulled away from him, suddenly aware of the audible music coming from downstairs, "Maybe not now."

"Come now love," Hyunjin laughed, striding into the room, where painting supplies lay cluttered next to a pristinely made bed, "Don't say that after we escaped from the prying eyes of everyone downstairs."

"Hyunjin," you looked at him with reprimanding eyes, how could you tell him the actual reason? "Don't you think it'd be suspicious to my family if I return today with messed up hair and a torn silken dress after merely slipping poison into someone's champagne?" How could you tell him to make you stop falling more for him? "This shit is expensive you know."

"Would it not be more dangerous if you were to return without killing the Hwang family's brightest hope?" Hyunjin's voice, though low, spoke it's volume, as he removed his coat, throwing it onto an empty chair.

Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward Hyunjin, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around his hair, a palpable tension filled the space between you.

His ethereal eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting. 

Without even a moment of hesitation, you kissed him.

Hyunjin's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of his soft hair, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer.

He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.

"so pretty..." he mutters, taking in the sight of your body.

Hyunjin's lips attach to your skin, leaving deep marks of love all over which wouldn't go away for days now. You stifled your moan, as his lips sucked on your collarbone, you could feel his erection pressing through his pants to your core, making you accidentally whimper.

Hyunjin's ringed hands made their way up your right thigh, the slit in your dress allowing him to caress the soft skin, the cold metal of the ruby created dagger hitting his skin like soft cotton to a wound.

He couldn't explain how attractive it was to him, the carved golden hilt, the blood red jewel in the centre, and the carefully shaped blade of the dagger, decorating his most favourite muse. You were a painting come to life for him.

You were his painting, his magnum opus, a canvas as precious as an angel's wing.

Your mind, on the other hand, was racing at a hundred miles per the hour. How could you tell him? How could you tell him the truth he'd always known? That your love was one the stars crossed each other to find?

You draw him into another uncertain kiss, this one your confused mind didn't think much about, and trailed a hand up the smooth skin of his exposed chest. Hyunjin signs into your mouth and runs both his hands down your sides, pausing to squeeze your thigh, and the cold blade pressed against your skin again.

“My love, that was by far one of the most sexy things I’ve ever seen.” Voice low and seductive, your lips barely pulling away from him. "I really can't believe you chose this one out of all. You know it's my gift don't you?"

"Hyunjin..." You trailed off, impatiently pulling away from his lips, "we shouldn't, we really shouldn't."

"Why not love?" Hyunjin's lips pressed against yours again morphing into a gentler kiss, he was evidently trying to calm you down.

"Hyunjin please don't." You begged with him, as if you were begging for your mind to stop itself before you went too far. You had to stop falling for him before it was too late. And yet how could you?

"Princess-" Hyunjin began before looking at you with worried eyes, "You're scaring me what's wrong? You can talk to me."

"What's wrong is we shouldn't be doing this." You tried to feign disgust, but all that came out was pathetic love for Hyunjin, 'Don't let me fall in love again' was what you had meant to say.

"Princess—"

"No!" You all as but screamed, forgetting that you were currently above a party filled with guns and roses, Hyunjin stood shocked in front of you at your sudden outburst, the air around you stilled, as words came out like vomit.

"listen, I am to get married to the Park family's eldest son, and if anyone, anyone, finds out about this," you stopped and took in a breath, "we're dead, Hyunjin, both of us! Or worse shit I can't even fathom to think about!" You took a breath at every word, stressing each note like a violin's vibrato, "And I'd really fucking take this poison myself rather than living in a world where everything tries to stop us from being together. So, please Hyunjin," your eyes held whispers of pained love, "Don't let me fall into this depth of love, because I just know I can never climb out."

The silence that overtook the room was heavy, heavier than you would have liked. You could have endured bullet heads, burn marks, fractures, but this was the greatest wound of all. The greatest pain you'd endured was the one you had always been deprived of.

Love, had it always been such a sin?

Your head felt dizzy as you say down on the bed, letting the soft material of the cover sink in. The dagger round your thigh and the air round your being felt tighter. You felt as if you could have drawn oceans of blood at that moment.

"Love," his voice echoed through your entire being, "look at me.

Your head turned to look up at him, as his hands quickly straddled you onto his lap, one of them squeezing your right thigh, eliciting a quiet moan out of you.

You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The ethereal, devilish angel, Hwang Hyunjin had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.

"Hyunjin I-"

"I don't care what or who comes in our way. You, my dearest, are mine, and mine alone." Hyunjin growled into your ear, his anger would never seep through to you but on certain occasions it would certainly scare you, the way his anger was cold as an icicle, rather than fiery like a volcano.

A groan rumbles through Hyunjin's chest, and he dips down to give a playful bite to your bottom lip, earning a squeak you will deny if asked about later.

One of his hands moves down to delicately play with your breast, kneading softly before pinching your nipple between his finger and thumb. You break the kiss with a breathless gasp, tugging at Hyunjin’s roots, forcing a ragged groan from him. Hyunjin wastes no time to pepper kisses down the column of your neck. He pushed the hair out of his eyes before he grabbed you by the waist and rubbed his cock up against you. He could feel heat settle in his body as his cock throbbed for you. He wanted you, he needed you more than he needed air. And he was more than willing to let you know that.

Stripping off your clothes and throwing it to the side, Hyunjin climbed up the bed and grabbed your hand on the way, hauling you under him. He wasted no time in lining himself up with you, throwing his head back in a groan as your pussy enveloped him.

Hyunjin groaned through grit teeth as he pushed his cock into you. You tensed and he groaned louder, he held onto the bed under you and moved all the way inside of you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tightly as he started to thrust. You moaned into his skin as he moved against you.

His mouth went to your neck, leaving dark scars there. His teeth hit the ruby of your necklace, as he took it in his mouth and tugged at it, making you gasp loudly.

Your body felt numb but in a pleasurable way. You could only lie there and accept all the pleasure that he was giving you. He kissed your soft face, he could feel your racing heartbeat under your skin. His face went back to your neck where he left more bruises on the flesh. He felt heat through his body as the pleasure coursed through his veins. It was arousing, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling.

"You're mine." Hyunjin growled through a symphony of soft sighs, "I will never let anything get in between us, alright?"

The only response he got was a pleasured moan escaping from your lips, but he took it. He took pride in the way he could make you feel like this.

Your head fills with pleasures, not a single thought could form in your head. “Fuck you feel so good doll” he groans holding your hips down and slamming deeper inside you. “G-god Hyunjin! Feels…s-so good!” You cry.

Your eyes begin to roll back feeling how good he felt. His tip hitting your G-spot making you ready to cum just as fast as before. “H-Hyune fuck I’m gonna c-“ you are interrupted by his hand gripping your throat, choking you.

“Fuck baby you got wetter just from that… god you're so good” his mixture of degradation and praise had your body a dripping, desperate mess. You couldn’t believe the hold he had over you.

His breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. His tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”

“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the bed with the sheer snap of his hips. Your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.

He felt you trembling hard, pulsing around his cock as you got close to cumming. He works himself deeper inside you, stroking all the places you need to reach that high point. A few more thrusts and you burst. You gush around him with a long whine.

You squirm and buck as he holds you in place and keeps rutting into you until it becomes too much for him. He also lets loose and shoots his cum inside you. He fucks it into you a bit, before slowly pulling out.

Slightly panting and out of breath, Hyunjin's figure could be seen gracefully outlined by the moon's tears penetrating through the tall, stained windows. He gets up and fetches a towel, gently cleaning you up as your eyes flickered between sleep and consciousness.

"Are you alright, love?" He questioned you, his fingers tracing shapes on your hips as he layed down beside you again, clearly not in the mood for wearing his clothes. Neither were you, so you turned your body towards him, allowing him to wrap you into the cocoon of his warm muscles. Laying your head on his chest, you felt his hand, once again, reaching for your thigh.

"You really do like that dagger don't you?" You laughed, as he caressed the metal.

"You should wear it more often, maybe for a painting?" Hyunjin's suggested, a smile like the air after rain, fresh with the stench of earth and dew, imprinted on his face.

"Hyunjin I-", you began, taking a breath before continuing, "What about—about my family?"

You swore you could have heard Hyunjin gently scoff, but you ignored it as he brought you closer to him, the space in between you practically empty.

"Stay here for tonight." Hyunjin said, "and if they come in search of their 'beloved' daughter," he scoffed once again, muttering a curse underneath his breath, "I'll tell them I stole her away from her tower."

"More like stole her dagger away." You giggled, finding his obsession with the strap on your thigh amusing. Hyunjin merely smiled at that, and silence fell again.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

Red wasn't that bad of a colour after all. Not when it reminded you of Hyunjin, not when it reminded you of secret kisses and poisoned paintings, and certainly not when it reminded you of love.

"I love you too, Hyunjin."

[fwkei]

How can you be so warm in a place so cold?

Izana x reader (fluff-angst) 

WC: 3.3k

CW/TW: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of abuse, mentions of drugs, mentions of blood. 

AN: made this take place right before the battle between Toman and Tenjiku, No spoilers. Explanation at the end of the story just incase you dont understand 

hey guys, thanks so much on the support/feedback on my last work. I appreciate it sm, and thank you for 5 followers 🥳 love yall fr. ANYWAYS, heres something i just made I hope you enjoy, and again i did not proof read this so I apologize for any mistakes, enjoy!

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“....Do you remember it?”

He felt his body go cold….cold like that one night..That one night when he met you. 

The air felt sharp against the skin on your face. But this feeling comforted you in a way. Although it wasn't much, you looked forward to this part of your day, where you could just think and not worry for a couple of hours. 

You fisted your hands inside your pockets to create some sort of friction and warmth. You nuzzled your chin and mouth under your thick zipped up jacket that was a little too big on you when the park you always come to came into view. 

You looked down at your feet when suddenly you heard the squeak of a moving chain, you looked up. To see a boy sitting on one of the swings, slightly swaying back and forth. 

Your eyes softened at the sadden look on his face, and so you sat on the swing right next to him, taking your hands out of your pocket to hold onto the cold chains. He looked down at his dangled feet, and you only looked out into the scenery, debating on what you should say to the young boy.

He was small but still a little bigger than you. His skin was tan and had light pale hair. He seemed upset, maybe even angry. You hadn't even noticed that your gaze completely turned to him. You saw his hands that were resting on his thighs, moving up to grip the chains of the swing as he looked over at you with his cat-like irises. His eyes, they captivated you. They were a color you had never seen before. A lavender. A really soft and beautiful lavender. 

You two held eye contact for a good two minutes. When one of you suddenly decided to speak. 

“What are you doing out here this late?” he asked in a slightly irritated tone still keeping eye contact with you 

“I’m waiting for my mom to finish with work..” you said looking back out 

“Then why don’t you just go home. You shouldn't be out here.” he said swaying a bit

“But..I’m always out here, and I don't consider that place a home.” you said swaying with him on your swing 

You saw anger and frustration fill the boy's eyes. His eyebrows furrowed, and grip tightened on the chains as he looked at you with hate.

“Do you realize how spoiled you sound? You have a mom and a house. That you can go home to whenever you want. And you’re wanted! There's no reason for you to be out here and act like you’re miserable! Just go away!” he yelled at you 

He expected you to cry, frown, get angry, give at least some sort of reaction, and it angered him that his words didn't bother you. Your eyes still softly looked into his. Eyes with a hint of pity. It angered him even more. Just as he was about to speak and yell again. He gritted his teeth and stopped himself when he saw you look down. 

“That's not it..at all.” you said watching your feet dangle over the thin layer of snow 

“Then what is it?” he asked jumping out of his swing and standing in front of yours 

“Why do you want to know?” you asked looking up slightly at him making his breath hitch in confusion 

“Because..” he said getting quiet and realizing his outburst was rude

“What is your name?” you asked, stepping out of your seat to stand in front of him face to face, him only a few centimeters taller than you. 

“I..Izana..” he said finally getting a good and close look into your eyes 

He felt his eyes soften. He felt pity. He felt bad. He now knew he was wrong about you, everything he assumed was completely wrong. Izana could see the hurt in your eyes, he could tell you were going through a lot, and you could tell the same with him. He backed away slightly once he saw you smile.

He felt his heartbeat stop for a moment seeing it. How could you smile right now? Why would you smile right now? After his hurtful words...After what you were going through at home..why?

“My name is Y/n. I’m 10.” you said holding out your hand to the boy with a shocked face 

“10 too..” he said slowly, bringing his hand to grasp yours..

He felt his body warm up and mouth part. Your hand was warm, so warm and soft despite the cold air and chains that touched you. It confused him.

 How can you be so warm in a place so cold, Y/n? 

Izana thought to himself.

“Your hands are cold...here take my gloves...I don’t use them anyway. Do you come to this park a lot? I’ve never seen you here before..” you asked, reaching further into your pockets and taking out a pair of dark red knitted gloves and handing it to the boy in front of you. Looking into his eyes, waiting for a response.

“Thank..you...and you consider this a park? It’s just 2 swings under a streetlight..” he said softly taking the gloves from your hands gently

“Do you not? I thought it was..nice even though it’s not much, I come here every night.” you said

“You don’t get bored of it?” he asked 

“It’s the best it’s ever gonna get for me.” you said tucking your hands into your sleeves 

Izana’s mouth parted at your words. He knows you were going through something but what? Why was someone like you settling for something so...bad? Izana knew nothing about you except for the fact that you were overly nice. Overly nice to the point where it made him calm down.

“I can uh.. I can..take you to a better park! I know a place! Do you wanna come with me?” he asked bringing his arms to grasp you wrists tight making you surprised

Your eyes traced his face as a small smile grew on your face. Izana felt his face warm up at seeing you smile. It made him feel...good. Really good. It made him feel wanted. And he wanted to see you do it more often. He didn't even realize that because of your smile, a smile grew on his face as well. After a couple of seconds of looking into each others eyes, again...your eyes closed giving him a closed eyed smile as you said with a soft laugh-

“I do.” 

Izana let out a scoff of excitement as his eyes traveled down to your hands. Letting go of your wrists and lowering one of his hands to hold your hand tight. He looked back into your eyes with a different look. A look where you finally saw light in his eyes, and it made them that much more beautiful. 

“Okay. Don’t let go, just run with me.” he said as he started to walk and look back at you waiting for your reassurance 

“Okay.” you smiled bringing your other hand to hold your hat as you two started to run against the cold wind

The cold wind hit your eyes, making you squint. Occasionally Izana would look back at you while running to make sure you were okay, and it really was one of the best sights of your life. Seeing his slightly flushed face from the cold wind looking back at you with a soft and small grin and messy bangs spread across his face. It made your eyes widen and your face relax. He is so pretty when he smiles. You wanted to see him smile more often, it made you feel loved.

The running turned to jogging, the jogging turned to fast walking, and that turned to slow steps. You two stood in front of the park, with your hands still intertwined. You pushed up your hat that was blocking your view slightly and looked up to a park. A park with 2 slides, 4 swings, monkey bars, rods, and all sorts of things. With bright and warm lights shining over it… There was grass instead of cement, colorful benches instead of dirt covered stools, and  families with children instead of people with drugs. You felt the excitement grow all across your body. Your mouth opened as you let out a gasp of happiness. Your face flushed because of the overwhelming feeling. And Izana watched all of it. Didn’t blink once when looking at your happy face. 

“Cmon! Let’s go and play!” you said gripping his hand tighter before letting go and running to the park

“Yeah!’ he said running after you with a big smile plastered across his face 

Hour’s went by, but it only felt like a couple of minutes. You two let your minds run wild, pretending you lead a crew of pirates who had to fight against fish people, to running a spaceship that was battling against aliens, to pretending that the floor was some type of acid that could kill you making you two crawl around the apparatus like spiders till both of your minds and bodies grew tired. 

You two had played so much to the point where the cold snowy air didn't even feel cold, but like an AC on a hot summer day. You sat on your legs under the apparatus, while Izana sat the same way, but was playing with the grass on the ground. You watched his fingers fiddle with the green strings. You wanted to ask something, but couldn't seem to put your thoughts into words. 

“Izana-” you said looking at him, waiting for his eyes to meet yours 

“Yes?” he said looking at you 

“....Can we be friends?” you asked rubbing your hands waiting for his answer 

His eyes widened..you wanted him. Not only did you want him, but you wanted to be friends with him, be beside him, be with him. It made his heart feel weird, almost fuzzy. 

“Yeah! Let’s be friends.” he said smiling making you smile too

“What about you? Do you have a home?” you asked 

“No..I uh..I don’t. I don't have a family.” he signed deciding to keep back his sob story 

“Don’t worry, I get it. You can talk to me about it whenever we’re together again.” you said 

“When will we be together again?” he asked tilting his head 

“I don't know..but...I’ll always be at those swings, everyday. And when we get older..we can do other stuff in other places..like go to the beach..and bowling..you know?” you said smiling while counting things on your fingers 

“Yeah okay..sounds fun..Y/n..I can’t wait till we get older!” he said smiling making you laugh a little bit  

“Same!” you said 

Both of your heads quickly turned when hearing an angry man scream, a scream you knew far too well. 

“Damn it! You stupid little girl! Is this where you’ve been?! Huh?!” you both heard the male scream 

“Who is that? Who is he talking to?” asked Izana keeping his eyes on the man as he walked closer and closer 

“No..oh no..I’m late..” you said in a shaky voice 

“What?” asked Izana 

“Duck and hide. Izana please..” you whispered quickly gathering all of you stuff and crawling out from under the apparatus 

Izana had never in his life seen such a terrified face. Your eyes were wide, and your hands were shaking...but not from the cold, but from pure fear. Usually Izana would protest at orders thrown so suddenly at him by people...but the way your voice and whole energy changed within a split second made Izana shut up and listen to you. He ducked under the piece of plastic, Hiding himself while still letting his eye poke out to see you. 

“I’m sorry…” you said walking over to the man quickly looking down 

“Look at me when you speak to me.” he said when suddenly you felt a harsh and sharp slap against your cheek causing your head to turn to the side. You brought your hand to your cheek, while turning back to look at the man. Izana’s mouth parted in shock and disgust. Just as he was about to run out, you spoke again. 

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” you said 

“Damn right it won’t happen again! You think I like it when your whore mother calls me late at night telling me how ‘our’ kid isn’t home yet?! A kid I never wanted but I have to worry about?! Jesus fucking Christ. Bad shit always has to happen to good guys huh? I just wanted a fuck but this is what I get. he said as you grind your teeth in anger 

“I’m sorry.” you said again bowing 

Izana’s heart was beating so hard..he could feel it right against his ear. The amount of guilt and pity he was feeling was unbearable, he wanted so desperately to just get up and just defend you, in any way he could, and so he tried to change his position to get ready to run out and help you. But as he did so, his foot hit the halo metal causing a quiet bang, but since the street was quiet it could be heard. Loud enough for the angry drunk man with a bottle of alcohol in his hand to hear. Izana stopped dead in his tracks, and your eyes widened in fear.  

“Are you..Are you with someone?” he asked in an angry and deep voice as he started to walk towards the sound

“No! It’s just the rabbit I found! I was feeding it under the slide because that’s where the most full grass is! It probably just ran away.” you said spilling out lies on the spot with scared eyes desperately hoping he would believe you.

“Yeah yeah, I don't care about your little rabbit. Now c'mon start walking, I wanna buy a beer before taking you back.” he said, slightly pushing you, making you lose your balance slightly as your father walked in front of you. 

You took a deep breath of relief, as you started to walk you looked back seeing Izana had crawled out slightly, just enough for you to see him, and for him to see you. You saw he had eyes filled with worry and fear, you didn't want him to worry, truly. Because the night you had just spent with him...made your day...actually the rest of your life. And so you gave a soft smile and waved before placing your hands back into your pockets and turning your head forward. 

Izana could only watch you walk away in confusion, in anger, in sadness, in every emotion there was. He could understand that you two were different sides of the same coin. And it honestly hurt him. Hurt him so greatly to the point where he swore to himself that he would do anything he can to not just see you smile, but to keep you safe. 

And there was no way on earth he could fail at that, no way he would let you sacrifice your body for his well being like you had just done, no way he would let himself...right?

“When we first met...Do you remember it?” you asked looking into his eyes that were now filled with tears 

He felt his body go cold….cold like that one night..That one night when he met you. 

He couldn't respond, and only nodded his head, as his thumb wiped the blood that spilled from the side of your lips 

“Wasn’t it fun?” you asked smiling 

“It was.” he responded feeling his heart ache at your smile 

“It was the best day of my life.” you said feeling a lump in your throat 

“We can talk about that day later, let’s go to the hospital right now, okay?” he said holding his hand over your bloody wounds 

“I think this is it, Izana.” you said laughing a bit as he shook his head ‘no’ at your words 

“Don’t talk like that, please don’t talk like that.” he said, holding back his sobs, making his words come out shaky. 

“Do you remember what I asked you? About wanting to be friends?” you asked bringing your hand up to lift his chin 

He didn’t respond with words, but the frown on his face, grew, letting you know he did. Of course he did. Izana would never forget a moment between you two. 

“What I really wanted to...say back then was...that I liked you, but we were only so small, and as...I grew up with you, I realized it was more. Sound’s kinda cliche right? Was it the same with you?” you said in between pauses of pain.

“Y/n stop making this sound like a goodbye, I won’t let it be a goodbye, okay?!” he yelled out of frustration, but again, you showed no reaction, like before when he first lashed out on you. It made his eyes soften when realizing the poison you two were in, was just like years before. Just like when you first met. 

At the park, with 2 swings, and 1 street light shining over it. 

Suddenly, all the thoughts in his head were stopped when he felt your embrace. Your arms wrapped under his arms and around his upper stomach, and you cheek against his collarbone and neck. He was hesitant, his arms still hovering over yours, not hugging you back yet. But you didn't mind.  

“Don’t worry, I get it.” said slightly nuzzling yourself into him, breathing in his scent which you loved so much.

“I-”

Izana felt his heart beat so slowly.. at the familiar words you were speaking. But they were different from before, this time, you didn’t talk about being in his future...like you did before. His arms were still refusing to hug you back. His mouth still refusing to accept and return your love. 

“How do you think things would’ve been?

“Y/n..”

“Do you think we would've ended up together, and had a family? Like a type of family we never had?”  

“Y/n please..”

The feeling in your throat became stronger. You frowned and bit your inner cheek to keep in your sobs 

“How can you be so warm in a place so cold, Izana?” 

You heard Izana’s breath hitch at your words. His head slowly and hesitantly rested on yours, as you felt hot tears coat your scalp. And his arm’s fell to his sides, still refusing the fact that this is a goodbye.

But why was he refusing? He could’ve easily grabbed you and ran to the hospital. But instead he didn’t. He couldn’t. Because he knew deep down that it was already too late. Your body was cold. So cold, it was unsettling. Because your body was never cold. You were always warm, you were home for Izana. Izana knew if he tried to make it to the hospital, it would make his final moments with you a waste. 

So what was he doing? He doesn’t know himself...All he knew was that he wanted to be with you till the end, but a part of him couldn't accept that this was in fact...the end for you two. 

“Please don’t leave.” he said in a shaky tone against your head

“I’m sorry.” you said feeling the hot tears that were congested in your eyes, finally fall out

“Don’t say that…” he said 

“Izana?” you said fighting against your sobs 

“Yes?” he said 

“I love you. And I always have.” you said smiling as you felt your final breaths.

Izana felt your grip on him loosen, and just as it did, he brought his arms and wrapped them over your cold body. 

You felt it, you felt his embrace, and you heard him scream that he loves you back, You heard and felt it all. But you couldn't let him know that you did. You couldn't even keep your smile as you took your final breaths. But you did feel the hot tears run across your cheek. And down to your neck, as he cried and screamed in regret. 

HIs body, still so warm..so warm against something so cold.

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

Explanation SPOILER HERE FOR TENJIKU ARC: BASICALLY, Y/n died before the battle against Toman, it’s not in the ff(as to who killed y/n) because i wanted the reader to have some control, but in this ff I made it so that Y/ns death was another reason for Izana to wanna take down Toman and Mikey, so as i was making this i had the imagine that Kisaki would be to kill or have someone else kill Y/n to make Izana even more unstable and easier to manipulate, hence the whole fight thing so yeah lmao. Izana and Y/n thought of each other as home, and fell in love with the feeling of being with each other i guess? BUT in the end, Izana thinks he’s too late, and thinks that Y/n didnt hear/feel him, which just makes him even more frustrated and angry, so he feels guilty and ends up taking that out on others and taking loved ones from others too (hence being a motive for ordering for emma ot be killed) sorry if this is confusing 

[samanthadalton]

Star Crossed Lovers (part 14)

Do my eyes deceive me???? part 14???? we did it. im so sorry its taken forever, i will try my best to be more consistent with my writing. love yall for being patient with me it means the most. thank you, thank you. 

warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

reader discretion is advised

warnings: angst, swearing (lots of it) 

taglist: @drmmyrs @cloud9in @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @fall3ngods @helpconfusedpersonhere @clowneryme @dopeyouth @boys-girls-i-cant-help-it-baby @vonda-b-real @uselesslesbianfr @veenast @cloakanddaggerthings @somethindarker (sorry again if ive missed anyone, if you wanna be added on this taglist or my general one just let me know 😊) 

word count: 4k (i feel like its short considering how long it took me to write but i still hope you guys enjoy) (also i didnt check for grammatical errors properly so sorry if you find any) 

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13

The first steps to moving on 

“Bea please,” Poppy whispers, a repentant look creeping up to her face as she looks away from her girlfriend. “It can’t wait.” 

Bea sighs, her shoulders slumping as the last remains of her anger disseminates from her body. “Okay fine, lead the way babe.” 

Poppy stiffens that the pet name but she doesn’t let her awkwardness slip as she leads Bea to a secluded classroom, far away from prying eyes. Both her and Bea turn to look at each other, and both simultaneously open their mouths to talk. 

“I know you wanted to tell-” 

“We need to talk-” 

Both clamp their lips shut, a mutual smile playing on their lips as they look at one another. 

“You go first,” Poppy gestures towards Bea, as she moves to sit on the edge of a desk. 

Bea inhales softly, her tongue darts out licking her lips as she looks down at the ground, her face calculating. “Why does Chloe hate me?” She looks up to Poppy, her eyes boring into the strawberry blonde’s, sadness swimming inside of them, “I just don’t get what I’ve done for her to hate me.” 

Poppy sighs heavily, her eyes awkwardly darting away from Bea’s. “It’s complicated Bea.” 

“Complicated?” Bea lets out a humourless laugh, “I almost just went off on Chloe after she gave her condolences for my mom dying because I just felt she wasn’t genuine and you wanna tell me it's complicated?” 

Poppy sharply inhales, contemplating for a few moments before saying, “it’s because of your mom.” 

Bea scrunches her brows up in confusion, “my mom? What the hell does she have to do with this?” 

Poppy ineptly plays with her hands, not being able to look Bea in her eyes, “at first it was just a classist thing. When you first came to Belvoire, she just wanted to make herself feel superior over you, but in the last year you’ve noticed her getting more mean right?” 

“Right.” Bea stares at Poppy, her expression emotionless. 

“Chloe’s parents have been fighting non stop recently, and it’s been affecting her a lot.” 

Bea’s brows furrow in confusion, “what does that have to do with me or my mom?” 

“Just let me explain first before you react, please.” Bea’s eyes bore into Poppy’s for a few seconds before she nods understandingly. “Her dad cheated on her mom. A lot of times actually. But he was blackmailed by one of the women he slept with.” Poppy pauses for a few seconds, “your mom.” 

Bea lets out a shaky breath, her eyes blinking in disbelief, “no, you’re lying.” 

Poppy nervously bites her bottom lip, “look Bea-” 

“How long have you known?”

Poppy’s face scrunches up in anger, “this isn’t my fault Bea. I only found out that day I went to talk to Chloe about us. Chloe made me promise not to say anything to you-” 

“Poppy! My mom OD and I don’t even know why. And now you’re telling me she was blackmailing the St James family and it doesn’t occur to you that might have had something to do with her death?” 

“They’re not the fucking mafia Bea, jesus. They were trying to settle it quietly by giving your mom some money and make her sign some stuff so she couldn't threaten them anymore.” 

The devastating ramification of Poppy’s admission hangs in the air as the two girls let the words settle into them. “Chloe really is sorry about your mom Bea, we all are.” 

Bea sighs, staring off into space, as a few tears begin to fill up in her eyes. “I just don’t know what to do.” Bea begins sniffling, but Poppy makes no movement to console her girlfriend. Bea notices and her expression sobers, “so, uh what did you wanna tell me?” Bea sniffs a few more times, before looking up at Poppy, giving her a small encouraging smile. 

Poppy looks away, guilt creeping up on her face, as she tries her damndest not to catch Bea’s small smile on her face. “Bea…”. Bea carefully assesses her girlfriend’s demeanour, noticing the similar body language during when they first asked to take a break, she thinks back to the last couple of days, she had barely heard from her girlfriend, and now she’s not affectionate, even after she almost had a mental breakdown in the middle of the hallway and her smile drops. “We have to break up,” Poppy says, her tone so monotone and dry as if she didn’t mean the words she was saying at all. 

“I don’t understand,” is all Bea can muster, evidently hurt by Poppy’s admission. Poppy winces slightly at Bea’s tone, finally breaking her robotic demeanour as she lets out a few sniffles. “So is that it? We have to break up,” Bea retorts mockingly, “is that all I get after all these years?” 

“Bea..” Poppy reaches out but Bea immediately takes a step back, tears flooding in her eyes. 

“No,” she holds her hands up, “I don’t get it, things are going good, or at least whatever twisted definition of good we’ve made up. Where the hell did this come from?” 

“Bea my dad-” 

“Of course! Hayden Min fucking Sinclair had something to do with this. Why do you still live under his shadow? You talk all this shit about breaking out of your father’s prison and wanting to achieve your own goals but he sucks you back in.” 

“That’s not fair Bea,” Poppy interjects, balling her hands up into fists in an attempt to subdue her trembling, “my dad has given me so much and he’s threatening to take it all away.” 

“Yeah, all you have to do is get rid of me. Me or the Min Sinclair name.” 

“Bea this is the life I have, okay I’m not like you, I’m not built like you.” 

“So what? I can grow up without a dad and now without a mom but it’s okay because I’m used to pain and disappointment?” 

“I didn’t mean it like that, you have a plan, things you can achieve, I need the Min Sinclair name, I’m nothing without it.” 

“Wow.” Bea shakes her head, “So I just meant nothing?” Bea wildy throws her arms in the air, anger bubbling under the surface of her demeanour. “We’ve practically been together since we were kids. And you’re just gonna fucking throw that away? And for what? Fuck you Poppy.” 

Poppy takes half a step back, dumbfounded by Bea’s outburst. She scrunches her brows, evidently hurt, “you don’t get it Bea. Even though your mom wasn’t the best, she still supported you, even if you didn’t know about it. My dad he- my mom what would she think?” 

“Your mom? Poppy what kind of shit is your dad brainwashing you with? Your mom is dead! You have no idea how she would react to having a gay daughter, but I know she’s probably disappointed in you.” 

“Fuck you Bea.”Poppy runs out of the classroom, tears streaming down her face, leaving Bea on her own. 

“Shit,” Bea whispers to herself before throwing a bunch of punches at the wall, each more cathartic than the last until she can’t physically hold herself up anymore. Bea defeatedly slides into a chair, cradling her head in between her hands, letting the tears free fall, as reality begins setting in that she lost the one thing in the world that was her everything. Poppy Min Sinclair was her rock, the girl who she gave her heart to, the love of her life and just in a matter of moments it was over. Maybe it was too good to be true. The beautiful, perky popular rich girl and the girl who had almost nothing, complete polar opposites, it never should’ve worked. But time and time again when faced against the world they persevered so why was this time different? Poppy had chosen her namesake over the love of her life. She chose the life of glitz and glamour over the girl who gave her her entire heart. Bea feels her entire world crashing down, how much more heartbreak could she take? Was her life always going to be so hard? So full of hurt? Full of pain? She winces at the thought, her head hammering as she comes to the realisation that she understood her mother’s pain more than she thought. 

…. 

Bea hops off her bike, parking it in front of her house, as she pulls her phone out to look at the time. ‘It’s lunch time,’ she thinks to herself. After the day she had today, school wasn’t the best option for her right now. She makes her way to her front door but stops in her tracks when she realises her front door is slightly ajar. Her survival instincts kick in as she effortlessly pulls out her pocket knife, carefully pushing the door fully open. As she steps into the living room, her eyes dart to the closed door of her mother’s room, but when she hears a creaking sound coming towards her bedroom, she cautiously moves towards the source of the noise, the grip on her knife tightening. As she creeps up, she sees the door of her room half opened, a hooded figure standing by her bed with their back facing her. 

Bea stealthily sneaks up to the figure placing the knife a few inches from their throat before lowering her voice to a threatening tone, “who are you and what the fuck are you doing?” The figure gasps, dropping a bag that’s in their hands with a deafening thud before raising their hands in a sign of surrender. 

“It’s me, it’s me,” the voice whimpers out. 

“AJ?” Bea raises her eyebrows, retracting the knife from his throat while pulling down his hood with her other hand. “What the fuck are you doing?” Bea takes a step back while AJ scrambles grabbing the bag he just dropped moments before. When he turns to face Bea, his eyes are wide, filled with fear as he clutches the bag closely to his chest. 

“I have to go,” he says as he attempts to run out of the room, but Bea pulls him back, her face crumpled in suspicion. 

“No we’re not doing this, give me the bag now,” Bea snatches the bag out of his hands before he can protest and opens the zipper to find it filled with cash. She grits her teeth, anger settling into her features as she whips her head up to AJ, “is this my fucking money?” 

“Bea, I- I can explain-” 

“What the fuck AJ!” Bea throws the bag onto the bed, the cash spilling out as she jabs an accusing finger at AJ’s chest. “You’re stealing from me now? I haven’t seen you in god knows how long, you don’t call, text nothing. Even after everything that’s been happening in the last few weeks but you have the audacity to fucking steal from me? Money that I’ve spent years saving? Money that I’ve bussed my fucking ass off for, are you serious right now?” Bea’s voice is filled with rage as she’s practically screaming, her voice now thundering. AJ winces, guiltily averting his gaze to the ground, unable to meet Bea’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry about your mom Bea, I wanted to visit-” AJ croaks out.

“But you didn’t,” Bea interjects, her voice lowered but filled with hurt. “And now you’re taking money- I mean what is so important you had to steal from me.” 

AJ paces towards the bed, hanging his head in shame, when he speaks his voice is quiet, full of fear, “I’m in some bad shit Bea. These guys aren’t playing around.” 

“I told you not to fall into the wrong crowd, I warned you this shit would happen.” 

“Bea please, I’ll pay you back I just need it.” 

“No! What the fuck, when will you pay me back huh? This is my college money, I’m not letting you give that away to your crackhead friends.” 

“Bea please,” AJ clasps his hands together, his tone pleading, “I don’t know what to do.” 

“AJ I have too much shit on my plate right now, I can’t deal with this. You need to find something else, I can’t help you.” 

AJ’s face pales but he stands up, and makes his way towards the door, before leaving he turns to look back at Bea, “I’m sorry about everything.” 

Bea keeps her eyes trained on her bed where the money is sprawled all over the mattress, “yeah me too,” she replies quietly. Bea hears the front door close and she collapses to the ground, letting the tears flow. 

……

A few days later, Bea sits in her dark living room, curtains shut and lights completely off as she wallows in her sadness, drinking from a bottle of cheap beer, as she stares absentmindedly at the ceiling, so drowned in her thoughts she doesn’t hear the resounding knocks on her door until she hears a voice call out, “Bea! Are you there?” 

Bea crumples her brows, forcing herself to stand as she makes her way to the door, she wearily makes her way to her front door only slightly opening the door before poking her head out. “Veronica?” Veronica gives the girl a wide smile before pushing the door more open, ushering the figure behind her into the house too, “Carter? What are you guys doing here?’ 

Veronica looks around the dark room, noticing the pile of empty beer bottles on the floor, “yikes, drinking on your own on a friday night Hughes? That’s really sad.” Carter stands near the edge of the living room, as if he’s an explorer, his eyes darting all over the living room as he assesses this new environment. 

Bea on the other hand scowls at Veronica, “what the hell do you want Veronica, I’m not in the mood.” 

Veronica frowns slightly, pouting her lips together, “we heard about you and Poppy.” 

Bea rolls her eyes, “yeah well I’m trying to forget about her.” Bea picks up her beer bottle from the ground and makes a show by exaggeratingly drinking from the bottle until it's empty. She discards the empty bottle along with the other ones before turning to look at Veronica and Carter, “so if you’ll excuse me.” 

Veronica steps towards Bea, wrapping her hand around the brunette’s arm, “we’re not here for Poppy stupid, we’re here for you.” 

Bea raises an eyebrow, “for me?” 

Veronica turns to look at Carter, beckoning him forward, Carter breaks out of reverie and clears his throat, “yeah uh, we wanted to take you to a party.” 

“A party?” Bea looks between them confused, “I’m not that interested guys.”

“Wait, wait, wait Bea,” Veronica pleads, pulling Bea closer to her, “you’ve never been to a Belvoire party and the year is almost over, we thought we should take you to at least.” 

“I don’t know guys,” Bea says skeptically, “a lot of people don’t like me.” 

“Who gives a shit? You just had your heart broken and you need to let loose.” 

Bea sighs, pulling away from Veronica, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

“Come on, it beats drinking in the dark on your own.” 

Bea sighs, dropping her shoulders, “what about uh Poppy?” 

“Poppy?” Veronica arches a brow, “her and Chloe are staying in tonight, she said she needed to catch up on homework or something.” 

Bea purses her lips together in thought before sighing,  “fine.” Veronica cheers, “but,” Bea over enunciates, “only for a few hours and if I don’t like it I’m going home.” 

“Okay, deal,” Veronica squeals, wrapping Bea in a big hug. Carter chuckles as Veronica gestures for him to join the hug, he awkwardly wraps his arms around the two girls, before pulling away. 

“Okay, I’ll wait in the car while you girls get ready. Just uh don’t take too long.”

Veronica playfully rolls her eyes as she Bea towards her bedroom, yelling back “thanks Carter.” Giddy, she rushes to Bea’s closest, assessing her clothes until she finds a short red dress hidden in the back. “This!” 

“No, no, no,” Bea shakes her head, pulling the dress out of the ombre-haired girl’s hands. 

“Why not? It would look so hot on you,” Veronica’s eyes trail down Bea’s body, as she sharply inhales. “Bea, you’re single and sexy, stop holding yourself back okay?” 

“I’m not,” Bea pushes back defensively, “I just-” she sighs heavily, “no one at Belvoire has ever seen me dressed up, I’m just- I’m nervous I guess.” 

“Then we have to show them what they’ve been missing for the last three years,” Veronica gives Bea a devilish smile as she takes the dress from Bea’s hands, sliding the dress off the hanger before handing it over to Bea. 

“Uh you gonna stay in the room?” Bea nervously wrings her hands together. 

“Why, are you offering a show?” Veronica lifts a teasing brow, noticing Bea’s cheeks redden slightly, which prompts her to let out a small laugh, “I’m kidding, don’t worry I won’t look.” Veronica makes a show of raising her hands to cover her eyes. Bea laughs as she slips out of her clothes and into the dress, she awkwardly clears her throat, grabbing Veronica’s attention. 

“Hey, uh help a girl out with her zipper?” 

“Sure,” Veronica moves to stand behind Bea, her hands ghosting around Bea’s exposed back, her breath momentarily taken away. She sturdies herself and places one of her hands on the small of the brunette’s back while the other moves towards the zipper, zipping the girl up. Bea smooths the dress down with her hands appreciating herself in the mirror, “you look gorgeous,” Veronica whispers into the shell of her ear. 

Bea’s face completely flushes red and slightly jerks at Veronica’s admission, “uhh thanks.” 

Veronica notices the awkward shift in the atmosphere, and promptly changes the subject, “so where’s your sister?” 

Bea sits in front of her mirror, a comb in her hand as she brushes her long locks, “she’s staying at a friend’s tonight.” 

“Cool,” Veronica answers back but her tone falls flat. The girls bask in the awkward silence as Bea continues to get ready but when Veronica notices Bea struggling to do her winged eyeliner she breaks the silence. “Hey do you need help?” 

Bea smiles bashfully, “yeah.” She rubs the back of her head with her hand, “sorry Poppy used to help me with my makeup.” 

“Right,” Veronica’s face slightly falls but she quickly covers it up, ushering Bea to come and sit on the bed. “Come on, I don’t bite,” Veronica bites the bottom of her lip, “unless you want me too.” Bea laughs but obliges sitting on the edge of the bed. Veronica clambers onto her lap, her thighs settling on the sides of Bea’s legs, and in response, Bea’s eyes widen in surprise but she remains glued in her spot, too shocked to move. 

“V, what are you doing?” Bea whispers, her voice attempting to come across as reprimanding but it comes out as breathy. 

“Relax, I’m just doing your eyeliner.” Veronica plucks the wand from Bea’s hand and angles herself close to the brunette’s face, as she begins drawing on the wings on Bea’s eyelids. Bea steadies herself, as she feels the heat of Veronica’s body so close to hers and when Veronica is finished with putting the finishing touches on her eyelids, she hops off Bea’s lap, making her way towards the desk, scuffling through Bea’s makeup bag before taking up her place on Bea’s lap once again. “Now I think this colour would look good on you,” 

“You don’t think it’s too much red?” 

“Oh babe, red means power, dominance, you don’t wanna be thinking about Poppy the entire night, you wanna have all eyes on you Bea Hughes.” Veronica uncaps the lipstick, her eyes burning into Bea’s lips as she carefully applies the red colour to her lips. “Perfect.” 

Bea smacks her lips together, evenly spreading the red on her lips. “Thanks V.” 

Veronica’s eyes dart to Bea’s lips, her tongue slightly running along her bottom lips before she breaks out of her reverie flashing Bea a smirk, “don’t thank me yet, thank me when you’re having the time of your life at the party.” Veronica slides off Bea’s lap, holding her hand out, “come on let’s finish up because Carter’s been waiting for a while.” Bea smiles up at Veronica, taking her hand as she lets the ombre-haired girl pull her off the bed, as they continue getting ready. 

………

Once they arrive at the party, Carter drops the girls off at the front of the huge house before telling them he will park the car. Veronica’s gaze darts to Bea, who’s nervously toying with her hands, looking up at the intimidating house, the lights blaring and as the music echoes throughout, the bass thumping in their ears. Noticing the nerves settling into her, Veronica slips into Bea's, giving her a reassuring squeeze, “hey, it’s okay, it’s just a bunch of drunk, preppy uptight teenagers, nothing you don't usually face everyday.” 

Bea lets out a small laugh, “just in a big ass house,” she jests. 

“Yeah, just in a big ass house,” she gives Bea a light squeeze as she starts pulling Bea into the house with her. Automatically, they’re met with stares and whispers, as the students look astonished at Bea, some appraising her outfit, while others are confused about her presence. “Hey, just stay with me okay?” Veronica whispers over to Bea. Bea nods, her eyes roaming the room. “I’ll get us drinks.” The ombre-haired girl gives Bea a reassuring pat on her arm and leaves her side and Bea walks into the living room, observing the difference between the vibes of the party between the north and the south. Her thoughts then move to think about Poppy, how Poppy would love going to parties in the north but Bea couldn’t find the appeal in it. Poppy. Poppy, who broke up with her. She’s interrupted from her thoughts by a tap of her shoulder, and Bea turns around to see Veronica offering her a red solo cup, Bea takes a sip and winces. 

“What the hell is this crap?” 

“Yeah for a bunch of rich kids, their taste in beer isn’t the best,” Veronica jokes, slightly nudging Bea. 

“We have way better beer in the south side.” 

“That I can agree with.” Veronica looks over to Bea who looks lost in thought, “hey what are you thinking about?” 

Bea sighs heavily, “Poppy,” she mutters. 

Veronica nods once, “right, yeah.” 

“Poppy would’ve loved a party like this, big fancy house an-” 

“Bea,” Veronica says, her tone slightly agitated, “this,” she gestures around the room, “is a no Poppy zone. That means we don’t think about Poppy, only about fun.” 

Bea nods, “fun. I can do that.” Veronica lifts her cup in the air, “what are we cheering to?” 

Veronica gives Bea a smile, “here’s to the first steps in moving on.” The girls tap their cups together before downing their drinks. “Now if we wanna get drunk, we’re gonna need a lot more of these.” 

The party is still ongoing, and Bea sits in a circle with a few girls from the volleyball team and a few of the football team and other people she doesn’t recognise while Veronica sits beside her. 

“Bea you look so pretty,” one of her teammates says. 

“Yeah Bea your makeup is literally gorgeous,” another chimes in. 

“Who knew strip tease can clean up well,” Ford jests, but Bea slumps her shoulders a little, remembering that these people are not her friends. 

Carter enters the circle slapping Ford on the head as he goes, “shut up, Hughes is cool.” Bea gives Carter a nod of appreciation before looking down at the drink in her hands. Her thoughts move a million miles a minute, but there’s a constant one stuck in her brain, Poppy.

Veronica looks over at Bea, frowning. “Hey come with me.” She stands, excusing herself from the group and Bea follows her close behind. 

“Where are we going?” 

“We’re gonna play a private game of truth or drink.” 

[manchesterau]

my thoughts after reading my policeman: SPOILERSS of course!! (ignore spelling or grammar mistakes) (this is very ramble-y and not as in depth as it could have been sorrryyy lol, if you want specifics send me an ask after reading this)

okay...so i read the book in 3 days....which....im very proud of myself bc it takes me so long to finish books but that’s not why you are reading this.

im not going to lie to you...i liked the book. i love angst, and this had plenty of it and i liked it. if you like books such as: harry potter, six of crows, red queen, red white and royal blue you will not like this book. i know many people found it boring, which yeah i can see that, but i didn't find it boring at all. but mostly because i love boring books but that's beside the point. 

the book flowed easily, there isn't a bunch of raunchy sex scenes that ive seen people say it has (i...the things ive read idk what book they even read????) and Tom does has backward views on marriage and what it means to be a wife. but he is not overtly sexist or misogynist or abusive, or subvertly those things either. to be frank he's a scared gay man in the 50s trying to not get caught and thrown in jail. that's literally it. (ill go more into detail on him later). but if you want to read this book i recommend you go in knowing that there will be homophobia (the word queer is used as a slur....3 times or 4 but no more than 5), expect outing, expect not supportive characters, and remember to have some compassion (more on this later).

next i want to go into characters: starting with tom, then Marion, then Patrick, and then the other characters. so if you are planning on reading this book or just dont want to be spoiled them....don't read the next bit.

Tom:

I'm going to get this out of the way.........Tom (who we never get to know outside of the two-point of views we are presented with, and who is being played by Harry) is a police officer in the 50s UK. to be frank when the rumors first went around I was mad like a lot of people were, which is funny because when we got those pictures of harry reading the book before all the speculation we were....happy, that he was reading a book about a gay man. now...I don't care honestly. I could call out the hypocrites (i won't) and honestly I'm hypocritical myself. I use to watch shows like svu (if you were to turn it on right now I wouldn't turn it off) and I enjoyed watching svu. I know and have seen a lot of mutuals, people on my dash enjoy cop shows like b99, or who like actors who have played the character of police before. so it would be hypocritical of me to be mad at him (this is just my single black opinion) and then go and turn on svu (which I don't do anymore). 

I'm not saying that no one can be mad, I'm not saying that the anger people have at him playing this role is bad or not needed or valid. all I'm saying is.....is that I don't care. I got angry over this months ago, and all that anger I felt I don't have anymore, and I can't tell you why. Harry is playing an abusive demented husband who traps his wife in a simulation, and then he will play a gay policeman trying not to face persecution..........and that's that. nothing I can say will reach him, he's playing these roles and there is nothing I can do. will I watch them (pirating of course) yes.

anyways let's get back to tom's character (do not use my opinion to silence other black people I will find you....don't do that shit weirdo): tom is......tom?? like I literally was expecting the worst when I read this because of what other people had to say. but as I'm reading him through the eyes of Marion (his wife) and through the eyes of Patrick (his...true love, fuck the 50s I hate the 50s) one word came to mind constantly: scared. Tom is very scared that he will be found out and his life will be ruined. His family knows about him, which is why I think his father (more on him later) pushed him to be in the national service (where he was a cook, which disappointed him). you don't realize his family knows and then his sister says something and then you go 'wait....THEY KNEW???' and then you will go 'oh so that's why-' 

tom does have old fashion views that you would expect of any man at that time (gay or not it's the 50s and gay men are still capable of saying sexist shit). when asked by Patrick if women should still work after having a kid he said no it's the men's job to provide, Marion said she would like to keep working, he said no when they do have a baby (they literally never did, and idk why he thought he could be intimate with her for that long to produce a baby lol). that's....the most sexist thing he said in the whole book (there maybe some small things im forgetting but nothing that really stood out). that's it. I know it's not small and that was a legitimate issue in the 50s but yeah. Just in case you were apprehensive about Tom's character being a raging woman-hater, no,....he just wasn't a true feminist yet (???? I don't know that's like..the most this book says about an issue women were facing at this time). It's still bad what he said (you'll see how Marion justifies it in the book and both Patrick and her don't agree and try and challenge him on his view).

i dont want to go too in depth but it is very obvious from the beginning he has no and i mean ZEROOOO interest in her at all (you can tell when it hits him that he needs a wife and he starts to act a littleee different but it's not romantic at alll). 

i feel like my review on tom is shit but like!! we don't really get to know him without bias from Patrick and Marion. I think Harry will play a wonderful Tom (even tho he doesn't not fit the description for Tom...at all....like at alllll).

To summarize Tom: very scared gay man from the 50s who is trying to do everything he can to not be found out. his family knows, even he knew at a young age, and yes he does quit being a police officer but it doesn't happen as soon as id like but then again he wasn't one for that long if you pay attention to the years.

Marion:

😑 

i just...if yall could see the notes i made on her.....

To summarize Marion: SHE IS LIVING IN LALA LAND, TOM LITERALLY SHOWS HER NO ROMANTIC INTEREST AT ALLL, AND WHEN SHE METS PATRICK FOR THE FIRST TIME SHE FREAKING NOTICES THAT HE'S ALL BLUSH-Y AND SHIT LIKE...GIRL.....

this is a note i wrote that sums up her and tom's relationship (which is more like friends then anything romantic i mean god their honeymoon was horrible and he proposed to her....nvm 😑)

listen...i can't lie and say i didn't feel sorry for her up until the end when she (spoilers: she outs patrick to his employer which ends up with him getting arrested). after that...ive never hated a character more in my fucking LIFEEEE like oh my god i was pissed

all she does is have fantasies about him being romantic with her (holding hands, hugging, etc) and none of them come true...BECAUSE HES GAYYYYYY i really....the author could have done a better job because there were so many damn red flags.

she's fucking annoying and whiny and yeah it sucked to be a woman in the 50s but you literally outed someone your husband was in love with and thought that you could just go back to being married like he's not devastated and instead of telling what you did you stayed unhappy and made your husband thing that at any point they were coming for him too.......*****

Patrick:

PATRICKKKKK

Patrick and tom deserved a fighting fucking chance i hate the fuck 50s fuck you 50s!!!! I absolutely LOVEDDD his pov and seeing Tom through his pov like it was just so damn refreshing seeing the world through his eyes and how he navigates his queerness in the society they live in. (the dichotomy between a proud gay man and a scared maybe proud but fear overrules that (talking about Tom here) gay man).

There was a lot more to say on how gay men were being persecuted at this time than how women were treated in this particular book. There were some little things here and there about what was expected of Marion as a wife and of a girl/woman at that time but it wasn't the focus.

I loved seeing the way Patrick navigated through his world of art and creativity. And how Tom seemed to fit right in with him.

I hate the things the author made Patrick go through (outed, sent to prison, stripped of his job, and later on in the present day he has had 2 strokes in his 70s). it felt a bit much but it's not too distracting (Patricks pov takes place in the past as he writes in his journal). 

Patrick and Julia (more on her later) are my two favorites in the whole book (Tom is third bc he's a very multi-facted character, Marion is not even on the list) and I wish we got a lot more of Patrick's pov.

Other characters!! (speed round bc this is wayyy too long):

Syvlie (Tom's sister): SYVLIEEE IM MAD AT YOUU I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU WHYY WHYYY

Julia: JULIAAAAA QUEEENNN (you'll see why i love her at the end) 

Tom's parents: his father is abusive point-blank. or at least i think he's abusive (verbally). as im writing this i am now realizing that the way Tom's mom reacts to him (sometimes crying) is bc they knew he was gay omg wow.

tom's dad is very much a man's man guy?? Picture a sexist man from the 50s....now picture him with a gay son.....yeah, I'm not surprised Tom went into national service then to the police force. you can tell he didn't want anyone to find out about Tom so he pushed him to do what he thought best and Tom went with it, scared. 

overall: please do not go into this book expected things to be all flowers and rainbows...this is a book about two gay men in the 50s yall.....

there is something to be said about the tragedy that is in a lot of queer stories, I'm more interested in how white these stories are (that's a rant for another time). but I don't mind my policeman, and i think stories like this should be told. because this actually happened (here is a link to em forster's story where the author takes inspiration from, he really had an affair with a policeman!!! who had a wife!!!).

the ending is bittersweet, and i couldn't help but curse for what could have been. Marion could have not outed Patrick (which she instantly regretted), she could have gotten a divorce (she even contemplated it), they could have been more secretive, Julia could have not said what she said. I think Patrick and Tom were sadly doomed from the start, I just wish they had more time together because I loved seeing their love (the little glimpse we got) bloom into something bigger than them.

thank you for reading!! here are random screenshots of my notes as i read this lol enjoy!!

can’t*

[matthewtkachuk]

feel something pt 7 - jj maybank

On the outside, you’re a kook princess with a seemingly perfect life and a perfect family. The expectations are suffocating you, to the point where the only thing you feel is numb. You’re chasing different coping mechanisms in order to feel something. Until a chance encounter with a certain blond pogue you know you’re supposed to hate gives rise to a different kind of feeling.

Warnings: angst, toxic behaviour, poor coping mechanisms, drug usage, mentions of sex, mentions of suicidal ideations (brief), Rafe being a grade a asshole, shitty parents, abuse

Pairings: JJ x reader (eventually), Rafe x reader (slight)

Words: 3.1k

A/N: dealing with the aftermath of our runaway reader. They say you don’t kiss and tell, but some people just can’t help it. Special s/o to my babe @ohfreyfrey for her help with the end 😇 I heard yall like cliffhangers…

series masterlist

The next day, the potential consequences of your actions set in even further. This isn’t some Romeo and Juliet fairytale, you’re y/n y/l/n, your life was never going to be a fairytale. Plus, that play ended with them dying and you weren’t really into that. Taking a page out of Sarah’s playbook, you start ignoring the larger group, only speaking to Sarah and occasionally Kie. You know you’re avoiding your problems and your feelings for the blond pogue, but the alternative is terrifying.

You’re imagining allowing yourself to completely fall for him and the thought is paralyzing. It’s like handing JJ a loaded gun, showing him exactly where to shoot to kill, and then trusting him not to. You haven’t trusted anyone in a long time. Not since your parents first put their hands on you in anger, not since Jacob Kane touched you inappropriately at a party without your consent, not since Sarah Cameron dropped you without warning. It really scares you, the thought that you were willing to risk that again.

Your parents also scared you. Even if you could get the courage to fall into the unknown without JJ, you couldn’t be open with your relationship. It could never get back to either of your parents, or  there would be hell to pay. You were expected to marry rich and marry well. But the thought of spending the rest of your life with a Rafe Cameron or Topper Thornton or Kelce Smith or Jacob Kane made you physically ill. Your parents tolerated your behaviour thus far (if you could consider daily screaming matches and bruises and marks tolerating), but you knew lowering yourself to date a pogue would be the last straw. You didn’t know what they would do, but you knew it wouldn’t be anything good.

It’s two days before the texts start rolling in.

maybank: hey

maybank: just wanted to see if you were ok

maybank: did i do something wrong?

maybank: please talk to me

maybank: i can’t stop thinking about that kiss

maybank: y/n

You don’t know who gave JJ your number but you’re sure it was probably Sarah, who didn’t know when to let things be. You know the smartest thing to do would be to block him, but every time you go to click the button, you hesitate with your thumb poised over your phone and you can never do it. A part of you, one that’s honestly pretty big likes that he’s thinking of you too. It wonders if he feels the same way you do. You’re not stupid, you can acknowledge that he at least likes you a little, if that kiss was any indication. You had felt alive under his touch, with your lips pressed together. That night you had gotten drunk and stoned in your locked bedroom, trying to chase that high but you were right. Nothing would ever come close.

You’re sitting on your bed, staring at the text messages that you have memorized from the number of times you’ve read them when your door is thrown open. You look up in shock, you had definitely locked that to avoid your parents. Chick is grinning at you brightly, holding up a bobby pin to show she had picked the lock. You don’t really acknowledge her presence, only scooting over on your bed to give her room to sit with you. “Sarah’s really worried about you, you know,” she states, and you just shrug. The two of you sit in an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two, before she snatches your phone out of your grasp. You gasp and attempt to pull it from her hands, but she’s a lot smaller and a lot quicker, jumping off your bed and running towards your en suite, ready to jump in and lock the door if necessary. Understanding your odds, you resign yourself to the fate of your little sister reading your text messages and finally figuring out what’s wrong with you.

She looks up at you and gasps your full name, middle name and all, “JJ Maybank??” she screeches. You shush her quickly, not wanting to open that can of worms with your parents just yet. It’s probably a waste of time, if they’re even home they’re likely nowhere near the bedrooms, but still you want to be cautious. “JJ Maybank is the reason you’ve holed yourself up in your room and avoided everyone for four days?”

“Chick,” is your only response, tilting your head as you look at her, eyes silently begging her to stop.

“What’s the big deal, y/n? So what, you kissed a pogue, haven’t you kissed like a hundred boys?” she asks.

“Don’t slut shame me,” you tell her grumpily, “and I haven’t kissed like a hundred people. It’s just…” you trail off, unable to find the words. Or maybe you can find them, you just don’t feel like sharing with your baby sister that you’ve fallen ass over feet over JJ Maybank.

“Oh my god,” Chick says, as something like realization sparks in her eyes, and she stands up even straighter than before and exclaims, “you’re in love with him!”

“What?!” You look at her in disbelief, that was quite a jump from a kiss to love. Your tongue trips over itself as you quickly protest, “Absolutely not Chicklet, that’s actually insane!”

“Is it?” She asks, hands on her hips looking much older than her thirteen years.

“You can’t be in love with someone you’ve only known a few weeks,” you tell her drily, unimpressed with the conversation. Sure, you’ll admit that you’ve got feelings for the pogue, but love? Chick is crazy, love is crazy. That’s not what’s going on here.

“I mean, technically you’ve known him for years.” She rebuts your point.

You sigh deeply, “Okay fine, then you can’t fall in love with someone you’ve only been interested in for a few weeks.”

“So you admit you’ve been interested in him for a few weeks!” She shouts triumphantly, “Wait until I tell Sarah.”

“Chick,” you warn her, “don’t you dare.”

“Your friends are worried about you y/n! I’m not going to lie to them!” She tells you.

“Sarah and Kie will be fine, if you tell them they’ll just go even crazier than they are,” you tell her.

“They’re not the only ones worried, Sarah said they’re all worried. Especially JJ.” She explains, causing your heart to constrict at the mention of JJ worrying over you.

Brushing over the feeling in your chest, you can’t help but ask, “Even John B?” Chicks face falls a little at that, confirming your suspicion that John B still doesn’t think very highly of you. “Right, well tell Sarah and whoever else cares that I’m fine alright.”

“y/n” she says slowly, and the pity in her tone causes your heart to ache. Huffing dramatically, you slide down and under the covers, throwing your comforter over your head.

“I’m fine Chick,” you tell her, voice muffled. You regulate your breathing as you hear her steps near your bed, before she drops what you assume is your phone on your nightstand and then leaves the room, door clicking softly shut behind her.

While you’re talking with your sister, JJ is on the other side of the island in a house that is a lot smaller and less taken care of but has experienced a lot more love, having a similar conversation with the best friend he considers more of a brother.

“What is your problem? You’ve been moping around for two days like someone ran over your dog or something,” John B confronts JJ who hasn’t moved from his spot in the spare bedroom except to eat and use the washroom. JJ can’t really explain, doesn’t want to really explain. He doesn’t need to hear it from John B again about how you are the worst of the worst kook princesses and just messing with him. JJ knows it isn’t true, not that the two of you have ever spoken about it, but from that moment at Midsummers to now, he’s felt something starting between the two of you. Despite initial misgivings, he was wrong about you. Like, really wrong.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” JJ grumbles. Truthfully, he can’t get you out of his head. He had asked Sarah for your number and then proceed to not only text you, but text you five times while being left on read each time. JJ didn’t text girls, he hit it and quit it and dodged texts like it was his third day job. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was worried about you. Having been on the receiving end of a parent’s fist on more than one occasion, he wasn’t sure if you were even okay.

He thinks of how you pressed against him, the way your chapped lips felt against his, the soft feel of your hands on his jaw. He thinks of the satisfaction of finally having you in his arms, the slight lilt of hope in his chest that maybe he wasn’t alone in how he felt about you. But then he thinks of the way you froze, saw the panic in your eyes, and felt the ache in his chest as you ran from him.

“Something obviously happened between you and the princess.” John B astutely observes.

“Don’t call her that,” JJ snaps, frustrated. It’s not really John B’s fault, but the mention of the word ‘princess’ just reminds him of when you told him to call you by your name. Reminds him of that afternoon together, when you had firmly cemented your place at the forefront of his mind. When his initial attraction (and yes he was very attracted to you) had blossomed into admiration of your confidence on the waves and your kindness when dealing with Chick. When he had poked at you and entered your personal space and flustered you to the point you threatened to send him through the windshield.

John B throws his hands up. “I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with Rafe’s property,” John B tries again. JJ glares at him, body tensing up with unbridled rage thinking of the possessive way Rafe looks at you.

“She’s not-“ He has to pause to unclench his jaw and his fists, swallowing before continuing “she’s not his property John B.”

“She might as well be, the way she hangs off of him. Or are you blind?” His best friend replies.

JJ shakes his head in frustration, pulls his snapback off his head and wrings it in his grasp, “You don’t know what you’re talking about John B.”

John B gives his best friend his best incredulous look, eyes widening comically and head tilting as his hands move away from his brain to mime an explosion, complete with side effects. “Have you actually gone insane? Like, are you feeling okay dude?” John B reaches for his best friends forehead, to pretend to take his temperature, but JJ slaps his hand away.

“Fuck off,” JJ mutters when he tries to do it again, and that’s when John B realizes things are serious.

“C’mon man, what’s going on?”

“I really like her man,” JJ sighs heavily, “like really like her. I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t like girls. I mean, I do, but not like this man. I can’t stop thinking about her. I worry about her and I wonder if she’s okay. She drives me crazy, but like, in a good way. And then I kissed her, and I think I fucked it up.”

“For the record, I think this is a bad idea and I reserve the right to tell you I told you so when shit blows up,” John B warns, JJ rolls his eyes but nods, indicating for him to continue. “But, I have to ask. Did you tell her any of this or did you just mack on her and hope her wealthy parents bought her the ability to read minds.”

JJ’s silence is telling. He pulls out his phone, unable to stop the small pang of disappointment that you haven’t yet responded to any of his text messages. He can’t help but send another text, texting etiquette or whatever be damned, he’ll text you as many times as it takes for you to reply.

maybank: i just want to make sure you’re okay

seen 2:34 pm

JJ tries to not let the disappointment take root in his chest, recognizing that you need time to deal with what happened, acknowledging the many times he has gone ghost on his own friends, but the insidious feeling takes hold of him anyway. Walking away from John B, he reflects on his best friend’s advice and realizes there’s a lot he needs to tell you.

“C’mon y/n/n, you have to get out of this room,” Sarah tells you. You’ve let her into your house, realizing that you can’t just shut her out completely without her resorting to desperate measures (like enlisting your little sister in her quest for knowledge). It may have been a mistake because she’s spent the last few minutes trying to convince you to go out to a kegger.

“I don’t want to go,” you tell her, despite the fact that your base state of being has been stuck on ‘I could really use a drink’ since that kiss.

“Because you don’t want to see JJ? Because you kissed him?” She asks, sympathetically. You gasp, Sarah has been over for twenty five minutes, and you had assumed her silence on the matter meant Chick hadn’t snitched.

“I can’t believe Chick told you, you can’t trust anyone, not even your own blood,” you said dramatically.

“Chick didn’t tell me, John B did.” Sarah replies, and you’re confused at first, and then you groan.

“Oh my god, I bet he had a lot to say,” you tell her, and she winces a little. You nod to yourself, “Great, that’s great. Is JJ just telling everyone now? Does everyone know?” You can’t help the annoyed look that crosses your face, despite knowing the annoyance is just a deflection.

“Well, I’m sure JJ told Pope, and I may have let it slip to Kie.” You groan audibly, burying your head in your hands. “Listen, y/n, I was sworn to secrecy,” you roll your eyes, knowing Sarah can’t keep a secret to save her life, evidenced by the first half of her statement, “but, JJ told John B that he really likes you.”

You groan louder, “that’s worse!” but your words are muffled by your arms.

“You wanna repeat that in English that the rest of us can understand?” Sarah responds sassily, and you just groan again. She gives you a minute to mull it over before she’s grabbing you by your upper arms and shaking you.

“Hey, get off of me you psycho,” you twist in her grasp, swatting at her hands.

“Tell me what you’re thinking!” she exclaims, still wrestling with you

“I really like him!” You admit. She pauses, grip slackening long enough for you to slide out from underneath her.

“Okay, I’m failing to see the problem here,” she replies sassily, hand moving to her hip.

“Sarah, my parents! Their expectations, The Lecture, it can never happen.”

She nods in understanding, considerably more somber than before, before replying, “fuck them.”

“Sarah, come on you know it’s not that easy,” you protest, but she shakes her head and repeats herself.

“Fuck. Them.”

“Yeah, and then what? I don’t get my trust fund until I turn eighteen next year, and you can bet they’ll take it away from me if I stray away from the perfect daughter before then. And what about Chick? You don’t think that they’ll take it out on Chick if I just up and leave?” It’s not like you hadn’t thought about it, throwing it all away and starting fresh somewhere new. But you didn’t think they would let you go that easily, and you could never leave Chick behind.

“Then we’ll get my dad and Rose to do something,” Sarah continues to protest, but you shake your head.

“Sarah, stop. It’s never going to work, your dad and Rose aren’t going to go against my father.” She sighed in defeat, realizing that you weren’t going to budge. At least not yet.

“Will you please just come to the kegger? Me and Kie can run interference for you.” She pleads, Cameron pout on full display and you roll your eyes before muttering fine. Her excitement makes you smile a little, for the first time in a few days.

You don’t know why you agreed to come. There’s an anxious feeling in your chest as you take in all the moving bodies with red solo cups in their hands. You’re not sure if you’re looking to spot JJ or hoping you don’t spot him at all. Maybe it’s both, you think as you take a small sip of whatever swill is in your own red cup. You don’t know whether you would kiss him again, run away, or maybe both like the last time.

Lost in your thoughts of the blond, Rafe’s hand is on your waist before you even comprehend that he’s appeared at the party. “Heard you’re officially with Maybank now,” his grip is tight, but you’re able to peel his hand from your body.

“I’m not officially with anyone!” You let your many frustrations out on Rafe, without even a hint of guilt. “God Rafe, when are you going to leave me alone? I don’t owe you shit.” You see hurt flash in his eyes, but you frankly don’t care anymore. He is persistent to a fault, and you want to get it through his thick skull for once.

There’s a small crowd around you, mouths gaping, more than one person is on their phone, likely frantically texting everyone your business. You roll your eyes and push past them, dropping your cup on the first surface you find on your way back to your car. You don’t stop to tell Sarah you’re leaving, but you figure she’ll get the memo when she hears about your run in with Rafe, if she hasn’t heard about it already. You’re upset and frustrated, and so supremely grateful that neither your parents nor Chick are home as you stomp up the stairs and throw yourself on your bed. You didn’t need to add Rafe’s gross possessiveness to the inner turmoil running through your head.

It’s a solid twenty minutes of you just staring up at the ceiling before your phone buzzes with a text message. Figuring it’s probably Sarah and you owe her at least a brief explanation, you unlock the phone. But it’s not a message from Sarah. At the bottom of a string of unreplied to messages is a new text:

maybank: i’m outside, we need to talk

Feel something tag list (ily guys sm): @thoughtsofthestars @dreamsndior @duskangxl @agirlwholovescoffee @previouslyforgotten @http-cherries @softtfordrew @gigi-june @httpstarkey @meaganjm @oopsiedoopsie23 @margaritatimebaybee @iamaunicorn4704 @5am-cigarette @kahnacademyforfun @rudths  @llvinlavidaloca @arianabrashierstuff @realistic-breadstick @tattered-masterpiece

Everything tag list (yall are rockstars!!): @velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @ohfreyfrey @downbytheouterbanks / @gforgenevieve​ @ilovejjmaybank

if you want to be added to either tag list, just shoot me an ask/message/comment love you guys!! shoot me an ask if u wanna talk about this part or literally anything i love you guys thank u for the support

[bxthharmon]

Never Go Home Again, Pt. XI || JJ Maybank x Reader

Words: 2910

Series Warnings: violence / talking about abuse / toxic relationships / talking about nudes sex and sex tapes / drugs / underage drinking

Pt. Warnings: Abuse / toxic relationships / talking about nudes, sex and sex tapes

Series Summary: A new girl, a shoebox of old memories, a past she’s trying to forget coincide with a hotheaded, but selfless, boy.  teenagers getting in way over their heads

Pt. Summary: JJ and Y/N reconcile upon her return

A/N: and yall are finally gonna learn the readers story lmao. im going to bed like, asap

Chapters linked in my masterlist.

“masterlist”

You’d known JJ for over a month, and you’d never been nervous to see him. You always felt comfortable, and sure, you felt fluttery when he kissed your cheek, flirted with you, put his arm over your shoulders, but you’d never felt like this. You fiddled with the friendship bracelet Kie had made you a week ago, and chewed on your lip as you sat on the porch of the Chateau. You could hear someone in the garden, but made no move to see who it was, stuck in stasis as you stressed. Your vision was cloudy. Everything he had said, it hurt. It hurt because it was true. You hadn’t been honest with him, with any of them, and they had welcomed you and helped you for weeks now. You needed to come clean. They deserved to know - JJ deserved to know - and it was unfair of you to keep it from them any longer.

It was all still fresh. It had been three months since the divorce was finalised. Two months since everything went down with Tyler. One month since you met JJ. You closed your eyes, psyching yourself up. Was John B home? Kie or Pope over? Was JJ even there, or was he home? You wondered, Please don’t let him have been home.

You heard an engine, and looked up. Pope’s car rolled up, and you stood, Kie popping the door open and pulling you into a close hug. She pulled away, eyes shining, “We didn’t know where you were - you weren’t answering calls and your dad only said you’d gone away.” she blinked slowly, opening her eyes again with a determined light.

“We thought you were dead.” you looked away from Kie, seeing Pope. You pulled him into a hug. “JJ’s been a mess. He stole 30 Gs off  a drug dealer.”

You smiled slightly, “I’m sorry for leaving like that. And I’m sorry for hiding everything. JJ was right, I haven’t been honest, and that’s not fair, you guys mean the world to me.”

Pope nodded, “You needed time, that’s okay. You’ll tell us when you’re ready.”

You thanked him. “Did JJ go home?”

“I think so.” Kie murmured, and you swore.

“I haven’t even been home yet.” 

There was a whirring behind you, and you all turned, the trees igniting in gold as a stupid amount of fairy lights lit up you small scene. You raised your eyebrows.

“What the hell?” asked Pope, the three of you in matching surprised expressions.

“Who the hell is that?” Kie questioned, leading you and Pope through the trees.

Lights illuminated the clearing outside the Chateau, gold and red shining brightly on the scene before you. A jacuzzi, lit with floating flamingo drink-holders, surrounded JJ, shirtless with a pair of stolen glasses. He held a champagne flute in one hand, and you heard the pop of a bottle opening. The three of you stood across from him.

You could see, plain as anything, he was at breaking point. The combination of the hunt, his dad, and you had unravelled him. I did this, a voice commanded, this was me.

“What did you do, JJ?” Pope asked, taking in the brilliantly lit display.

“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now.” he crooked the glasses, down, looking over the three of you with unfocussed eyes. “Y’all should get in immediately, you hear me?” he sloppily poured a drink “Salud!”

Your heart broke for him. His eyes fell on you, “Y/N?” he slurred, “Y/N! I thought you were-” hiccup, “-dead! You just, uh, you just disappeared.”

“I’m sorry.” you sighed.

“No - no!” he shook his head, voice too gleeful for his words, “I’m sorry!” he tipped his head back as he downed the champagne straight from the bottle.

“How much did this cost?” Pope interrupted.

“Uh… well, with the generator, the petrol, and oh, hey, express delivery…” he chuckled, “pretty much all of it, yeah.”

You kept your eyes on him, knowing that one too many questions would release a dam full of emotions he’d been hiding for years.

“All of it?” Pope stepped forwards.

“Yeah, all of it.” JJ repeated.

“You spent all the money in one day?”

“Pope,” you muttered, knowing JJ wouldn’t last.

“Yeah, burned a hole right through my pocket.” JJ confirmed, gesturing sloppily. “But, I mean, like, come on - guys - like, look at this! Finest in jet-based massage therapy, that’s what they told me!” Kie looked thoroughly unimpressed. “Kie, what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?” his voice was hoarse, and you felt worry building in your stomach and pounding at your head. He whipped his glasses off, “Come on, all this scrimpin’ and scrapin’...” his voice went soft, “I mean like - guys, we - you only live once, right? Enough of this emotional shit, get in the Cat’s Ass. Come on!”

“In the what?” you frowned.

“In the Cat’s Ass.” he shrugged, a small, drunk smirk playing at his lips, “That’s what I named her. Oh! Hey, yo, I almost forgot!” he switched a button, and the water lit up, a light flashing as the already bright display got weirder. He was about to break. “Yeah, that’s right, I now. Disco mode! That’s right, baby!”

“Are you kidding me?” Pope cut in, and you squeezed your eyes shut for a second, knowing that he and Kie were pulling at a tether that was seconds from coming loose. “You could have paid for restitution!”

“Or literally given it to any charity!” Kie added.

“Or better yet, you could have helped us buy supplies to get the rest of the gold out of the well!”

“Okay well you know what? I didn’t do that!” JJ burst forwards, showing a selection of purple bruises littering his torso. “I got a hot tub!” you kicked off your shoes, tears building at the thought that the person supposed to love him the most would hurt him like that, “For my friends. I got a hot tub for my friends. You know what? No, you know what? Screw friends. I got a hot tub for my family! I got this for you! Look, guys, look what I did for you! Alright? Look at this! Look at this! No, you stop being emotional. It’s fine, okay?” You stepped forwards as he continued, stepping over the walls of the tub and pulling him in, letting him cling to you. You let him sob on you. “I just couldn’t do it.” He was convulsing with sobs while you tried your best not to, knowing you had to be strong for him. You had to. “I couldn’t take him anymore! I was gonna kill him.” You felt Pope and Kie’s arms wrap around the pair of you, the lot of you wet with tears and hot tub water. “I just wanna do the right thing.”

“I know.” you murmured, stroking his hair and closing your eyes as you tried to keep your breathing steady.

Kie and Pope got out first, leaving after you told them you’d deal with him. You sat him down in the tub again, turning the jets off. You wiped away the last of his tears, gently prying the champagne away from him. You stroked his hair, letting him lean on your shoulder until his breathing returned to normal. You stood up then, helping him out of the tub and guiding him to the bathroom, where you sat him down on the closed toilet seat as you ran a hot bath. You distracted him by reminding him of your best memories since you met him, until the bath was full. You helped him in, washing the chlorine out of his hair, and letting him relax.

You sat on the edge of the tub as he blinked up at you, sobering up quickly. He lifted a hand from the water, touching your waist tentatively.

“Where did you go?” he whispered, the silence pressing down thickly.

“To see an old friend.” you hadn’t thought about your leaving for hours, and now you did, you wondered how broken he’d be when he found out you’d slept with two people while you were gone.

“You went to LA.” he muttered.

“Yeah.” you nodded slowly, touching his cheek, lightly. “I’m sorry.”

He blinked at you, confusion painted in his features. “Why?”

“I left.” you helped him stand up, guiding him out of the bath. You handed him the towel you’d found, leaving him to get him a change of clothes. You picked out a top and joggers, brushing away a stray tear before rejoining him. You turned around while he changed, then lay him down in the spare bed. You draped the blanket over him, changing quickly into the only other joggers you could find, and one of his tops. You lay down in front of him, taking in his bright, cobalt eyes and soft pink lips. 

“Why did you go?” he sounded broken. So broken.

“I felt trapped, like you would all hate me. So I went to see the people who I knew would be there for me, no matter what. Then I realised that, more than anyone, more than my friends in Cali, that was you guys.” he gazed at you, a strange look in his eyes as he processed your words.

“I shouldn’t have yelled.” he closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, there was a teary sheen to them.

“No.” you rejected his claim. “I needed it. I’ve been avoiding it, thinking that would make it all go away. It was stupid. If you hadn’t have yelled, I wouldn’t have gone. And if I hadn’t have gone, I’d have avoided it for the rest of my life.”

He let a tear slip. “I fucked up.” he murmured. “I fucked us up.”

“No. No, I did it. I wasn’t honest. I was so desperate not to repeat what had happened that I pushed you away.”

“What did happen?”

“Where do I start?”

“At the beginning.”

--

Your parents loved each other. They lit up when the other entered the room, and looked at each other like the world revolved around them. They met young, in highschool. Your mom was pregnant with your brother by senior year, and they got married when school was over. Three years later, once they had a house and two steady jobs, they had you. Highschool sweethearts, it always seemed perfect.

You were convinced they were perfect, until you were ten. They had a huge argument, so big, so loud, that the neighbours called the cops, and you and Lewis had to spend the night at friends’ houses. They never argued like that again.

You knew they loved each other, even after that. Over three years later, on the brink of your fourteenth birthday, you noticed they hardly spoke anymore. Family meals stopped, and they avoided each other at all costs. After a few weeks, you came home to a floor covered in glass and crockery, and your parents sitting across from each other crying. Things were perfect for two more years.

Then, she started getting angry. She threw things, hit things, broke things. She took out all of her frustrations on the family, never caring to explain herself.

Your mom lost her job, but was still out all day, everyday. You saw her with another man three months after. When you saw her, you understood something. 

Your mom hated her life. She hated not being able to afford things, not being able to go on holiday, not being able to treat herself. She wanted to live a life more glamorous than what your father could give her. You hated her for it.

You asked her about it the next day.

Your brother and dad got home to see her things packed, and you sitting at the kitchen table, bruises around your neck and a cut over your right eyebrow. The divorce papers arrived within a week. 

She didn’t fight for custody. She didn’t call. She didn’t try to see you.

--

JJ nodded slowly, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb. “She’s been calling you.” he murmured.

“She feels bad.” you shrugged, “I had a go at her, she hasn’t called since.”

“Did you see her while you were in LA?” 

“No, she lives in Brentwood, I didn’t want to waste my time there.”

“Fuck her.”

“Yeah.” you smiled, “Fuck her.”

“Y/N?” he whispered, “Thanks for telling me that.”

“Your welcome.” You shrugged.

“Who’s Tyler?”

“My ex.” 

“What did he do to you?”

You searched his eyes, knowing you had to tell him. You took a deep breath.

--

You met Tyler in middle school. He was the tallest in the class by an inch and a half, and the best looking. You were best friends with Cassie, and Cassie’s parents knew his parents, so you were friends by association. You cruised through middle school, skating with him and his friends when you weren’t at school or hanging out with Cassie.

At some point in Freshman year of high school, his friends stopped joining your skating days, and you and Tyler got close. He asked you out near the end of the year, and you said yes. You spent your summer drinking and smoking with Cassie or skating with Tyler, losing your virginity to him just before the start of your sophomore year. You went steadily for a year, letting your relationship become more and more toxic, until he would throw fits if you so much as spoke to another guy. You lost your friends as he tightened his grip around you, keeping you close with threats and bribes. 

He was the only one who was there for you when your mom started cheating, because he was the only one you talked to. You let yourself be vulnerable, and he took advantage of it. You went out with Cassie just before that night with your mom, telling her about your failing relationship and breaking family. She was the one who told you to break up with him. 

You waited three days. 

He took it well. Nodded, didn’t cry, left quickly.

The next day, your life was hell. You got pulled from English by the police, and taken to the principal's office, and sat down. He told you that a load of photos and two videos had been leaked from an anonymous account. Nudes, two sex tapes. You didn’t even know the videos existed. It was all over Instagram, and even a couple of porn sites. 

You didn’t even know. Not until that moment. No one mentioned it, they just gave you funny looks. It all made sense. Your dad came in, they explained it all to him. They traced it to Tyler’s phone, and your dad chose to press charges.

You saw Tyler a couple of times, in huge, explosive fights outside his house. The case was days away from success, days from him being sued, an agreement saying he’d never be able to share them. Then, your mom came back. It had been almost a month, but she came back, taking almost every penny your dad owned.

Unable to afford the lawyer as well as the moving fees, the case fell through. You only found out about the move the next day, talks of it having been circulating for a few weeks. You had three days, and in those days, all of your friends fell out with you, deciding you had chosen to hide it, not believing that you hadn’t known. Your only ally was Cassie. 

You moved, and then, you met JJ.

--

JJ’s eyes were glittering, shining, with fury. He was hurt at the idea that someone would hurt you like that. He wanted to hit something, but given your vulnerable state, tried to remain calm. You nestled into him, breathing sporadic as you processed the fact that you had said it out loud. He ran his hand over the bare skin under your borrowed top, an act of comfort that spoke the thousands of words he didn’t know how to say. The air felt thick with tragedy, hanging over the pair of you like a suffocating blanket. 

The night was raw, painful. Wounds that were hardly healed were torn open, twice as big, exposed, hurtful. Both of you, teenagers who’d been through more than any teenager should have, hurting. You didn’t move for a long time, the comfortable silence consuming you. His breathing was slow, resting. He slipped into a well-deserved slumber, as you listened to his heartbeat. You realised that you felt something for him. You’d never felt it before, not even with Tyler. You felt your heart swell when you thought about him, and contract painfully when you thought about his hurt. You decided you would protect the boy until the day you died, because God knows he needed it. 

Always the protector, helper, giver. He deserved to be protected. He deserved more than what he had, more than you could offer, but it didn’t matter, because as long as you were able to, you’d try and be what he needed, deserved, wanted. It came out as a whisper, breaking the long, peaceful silence. Rough and straightforward, plain and forward, but full of meaning. Full of the emotions you’d hidden from him, the thoughts that plagued you at night, the words you’d tried to push down for weeks now.

“I love you.”

Tags: @tangledinsparkles​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @lolitstiana​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ @teamnick​ @thoughtsofthestars​ @obxmxybxnk​ @jjmaybankswife​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @sxcretinhuman​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @angvelics​ @badwolf00593​ @coloradogirl07​ @mendesmaybank​ @jiaraendgame​ @5am-cigarette​ @emerald-xcd​ @haharudy

[wcstlcys]

( IMOGEN POOTS. THIRTY. CIS-FEMALE. SHE/HER. ) in texas, FRANCINE WOLFF is more commonly known as FRANKIE. they’ve been living in stratford  for THIRTY YEARS and currently a PARAMEDIC. some say they are AMORAL & MEEK but i’m more inclined to believe those that say they’re UNPREDICTABLE & BENEVOLENT. if you walk by their house, you can sometimes hear UNDER THE GRAVEYARD by OZZY OSBOURNE playing from their window. ( trembling hands , blood stained uniform , torn up medical books , chipped nail polish ) 

[ BLOOD, DRUGS, DRUG ABUSE & ADDICTION, OVERDOSE TRIGGER WARNINGS ]

basics.

* goes by frankie – will cry if you call her francine

* panromantic / pansexual

*  

* has a fairly nasty pill habit

* horror movie fanatic 

* has a fairly nasty pill habit  

* frankie is one of the only members of her family who did not choose a career within the police department

* major family issues

* very obscure sense of morals, mostly just wants to help people even if that means breaking the law 

about.

✘ frankie has spent her entire life in stratford, for no other reason that she does not know where else to go. generations of her family have grown up here and never left – so why should she ?? she feels as if she’s stuck and should simply remain.

✘ with her father and grandfather being both deputies within the sheriffs department, along with her siblings as well,  frankie has always felt pressured by their reputation. especially with their very much outspoken hatred towards the gangs within town. perhaps it was her rebilious phase settling in, but she found herself drawn towards those groups. outlaws of any kind, really. anything that screamed the entire opposite of her family.

✘ frankie’s interest in medicine comes from an unusual source. she’s had a strange fascination with blood and violence from a young age. something about it simply just attracts her and she can’t particularly place a finger on it. in fact, the interest bothers her quite greatly at times. she tries her best to ignore it and tries to place it into a practical sense. which is why she chose to go into the field of EMS, she could fuel her obsession without anyone batting an eye, and at the same time she could help people.

✘ while frankie is a paramedic, she’s an incredibly corrupt one. a lot of her patients end up being criminals, a lot of the time in trouble with the law or hold the potential to be in some sort of trouble. she’s helped people escape custody at the hospital numerous times, failed to report things she should to the police, smuggle out medications and supplies from the hospital, and everything in between. she neither views her actions as right or wrong, she’s simply just helping out people when she can.

✘ a lot of her paramedic work also happens off duty, where she’s called into sketchy situations because people can’t go to the hospital in fear of being caught or questioned by the police. she can no longer keep track of the amount of times she’s had to stitch up someone in a poorly lit room with limited supplies at her disposable. but she does it every time, without question.

✘ [ DRUG TRIGGER WARNING ] while on the outside, frankie seems to handle her job just fine, more times than not she had to self-medicate in order to keep her nerves in check. she witnesses a lot of tragedy, death and grief in her lifetime and she has to keep her composure somehow. she refuses to believe she has an addiction, and for those who are aware of it she simply denies it all. her addiction has caused a near constant tremble in her hands, only disappearing when she’s hyper focused on her work. it’s a characteristic she tries to ignore, and shrugs her shoulders when pointed out.

✘ [ OVERDOSE TRIGGER WARNING ] unfortunately , after a particularly bad incident, frankie accidentally overdosed and landed herself in hospital for a short stint of time. her father, not wanting to have any shame or question directed towards his family, managed to keep the whole thing under wraps. a few people are aware of what happened, but for some reason of the other keep quiet about it. especially the person who found her [ yall im sorry but potential connection bye ] she took a brief break from her job whilst she was recovering, and for a lot of people her short disappearance is left unanswered. since the overdose she’s been sort of sober if you can even call it that. she’s been trying to keep things under control but ya gal ain’t so good at that.

✘ when she’s not doing EMS work, both on and off-duty, you’ll probably find her at a club or bar of some sort trying to wind down. it’s not so much about the drinking, she just likes to party and dance whenever she gets the chance. she’s pretty busy most of the time, and ends up taking a lot of night shifts, so partying isnt something she gets to do all the time. she can be quite shy sometimes so she needs a bit of a party setting in order to let loose and have some fun. is that troubling ?? maybe so, but she chooses to ignore it.

✘ horror movie fanatic. are we surprised ?? you’ll often find frankie locked up in her house, horror movies playing in the background. it keeps her sane and she would very much appreciate it if you don’t mention it. she finds it a little embarrassing sometimes. she’s very shy ALRIGHT.

✘ if you call her francine she might just cry. she hates it. only her family calls her that. if you’re special she MIGHT accept fran in a pinch but she always introduces herself as frankie. francine is reserved for family and legal documents alright.

wanted connections.:

✘ BLACKMAIL: [ OPEN ] someone who has gained the knowledge of her corrupted ways and is using it as a means to exploit her. whether it’s because they dislike her, they need information, or they are simply malicious and want to use it against her for their own needs and wishes. please for the love of god torture frankie goodbye  

✘ FIRST LOVE / FIRST HEARTBREAK: [ OPEN ]  because i am a hopeless romantic and also love angst, i demand some cute yet tragic love for frankie. am i lame and going to suggest it be a biker ?? maybe so, but i’m honestly down for civilians as well, whatever works out best !! i see this as someone she’s known for a good chunk of her life and the relationship may have been and off again and on again type of scenario. i also imagine they’re in the know of all her corrupt behavior within the EMS. idk man gimme angst so i can cRY

✘ EXES: [ OPEN ] even after her first heartbreak i imagine she’s dated around here and there. lots of opportunities for messy relationships with her busy work schedule and all the shady stuff she does on the sidelines.

✘ BEST FRIENDS / RIDE OR DIES: [ OPEN ] these would be the people she loves with her whole heart. she would do absolutely anything for them and literally commit crimes and risk her job for them. these could be childhood friends or simply friends she’s met along the way, even through her work ! especially her off-duty work

✘ FRIENDSHIPS: frankie needs friends ok pls she can be so sweet and loving and i just want her to drown everyone in platonic love and kisses 

✘ HOOKUPS / FWBS: [ OPEN ] listen…ya gal has needs. she has a very busy schedule and doesnt have a lot of time to date. she needs to let off some steam alright ok cool

✘ PATIENTS / WORK RELATED [ OPEN ]: frankie opens up her services to a lot of people. sometimes she gets paid, other times she’s just owed a favour – but most of the time she simply just does it to help out. i imagine a lot of these connections would be affiliated with the gangs. she’s very much neutral to both sides and tries to help out whenever she can.

✘ WORK CONNECTIONS [ OPEN ]: police, fire department, hospital workers PLEASE come give frankie some love cus i imagine they’d interact a lot based off of their careers.

ok SO this is all i can think of right now but i am ofc open to a lot more connections and i REALLY wanna plot with all of yall and snatch up those connections.

[takecarc]

hey there dudes, it’s me… ya boi. i won’t bore you with a long ass intro about me, but just know all you gotta do to befriend this fellow bean is yell into my ims that you wanna plot or legit anything else… i like yelling in all caps. anyways, my name’s amanda, i reside in the sunny gmt+1 timezone and i go by she/her. that’s abt it i guess ?? i never rly know what to say in these so i’ll just proceed to telling you about my children ethan and mallory under the cut

ps: like this and i’ll come to you for plots or yknow… just hmu !!

✎⌠sebastian stan. male. he/his⌡❝ — well, look who’s just arrived ! if it isn’t the one and only ethan bronson. though, around here they’re known as the cinephile. don’t tell ‘em i said this but the thirty five year old hollywood director and producer kinda has a reputation of being incessant and pedant. but y’know, they can be visionary and intuitive too. typical virgo. anyways, welcome home and stay safe ethan ! ❞ ↷ amanda. 19. she/her. gmt+1. 

when i saw there was a vacancy for the owner of reel tide cinema i just knew i had to bring my son ethan into this group. his parents would have bought the place back in the 80s and now that his dad passed away her mom must likely put it in his name since she doesn’t feel like she’s capable of running the place all by herself.

ethan grew up in that movie theater, spending his early childhood sneaking into exhibitions of films he had no business of seeing at that age and helping his folks renovate the halls with a fresh coat of paint. nothing else has ever changed about the cinema and he likes it that way .... in all its original, outdated, moldy, classic glory.

anyways, up with two film enthusiasts as parents and just about the easiest environment to learn about movies in general it’s really no wonder that ethan always dreamt of becoming a big hollywood director. he’d pull out his camera anywhere he went, filming little scenery shots, his friends talking, stray dogs eating and anything else he found worthwhile. he was a completely geek.

he got into UCLA with a scholarship for filmmaking and screenwriting but ended up dropping out and pursuing directing on his own. his first ever film was an absolute knockout at every film festival it was showcased in and he went on to win a spirit award for best director and being nominated for as oscar. ever since then his life has been a roller coaster of awards and amazing movies he’s either directed, produced, written or a combination of the three. 

hanging out with the big guns of hollywood has certainly refined his taste. he’s a lot more judgmental and short tempered than before, uninterested in ideas or conversations he doesn’t find remotely interesting. on the bright side he’s extremely creative, smart and cultured. Woke, if you will. he’s also a big perfectionist and won’t quit until something is done exactly how he wants it done. 

coming back into town he feels like a stranger, like the odd man out, as if over the years he broke the tether that connected him to this place and can’t seem to find it anymore. but he needed a break and his dad just passed away so he thought it’d be nice of him to come help his mom for a while ... breathe a simpler air than the one of hollywood and la. 

wanted connections: a childhood best friend that was also rly into movies, a girlfriend he left behind to go to college, a fling he would have whenever he’d come in and out of town in his early 20s, some kind of rival or enemy bc those are always fun. and MORE. ANYTHING. 

pinterest board ( i just started it so not much there yet ! )

✎⌠zoey deutch. female. she/her⌡❝ — well, look who’s just arrived ! if it isn’t the one and only mallory dunn. though, around here they’re known as the instigator. don’t tell ‘em i said this but the twenty one year old bartender kinda has a reputation of being unreliable and petulant. but y’know, they can be alluring and uninhibited too. typical gemini. anyways, welcome home and stay safe mal ! ❞ ↷  amanda. 19. she/her. gmt+1.

drug use, neglect and abuse trigger warning !!!

boy oh boy, yall bettle settle in your seats bc you’re in for a RIDE

this messy binch did not have it easy for most of her upbringing. without delving too much into more triggering subjects, she was taken from her drug addict parents and put into the foster system due to neglect. she was put in a number of foster homes but the families never rly cared abt her nor the other kids ... they just wanted to make bank of the financial support given to adopting families. the last foster home was the worst of all, to the extent she had to beat up the father with a bat as to not let him do ... things he shouldn’t be doing to children.

this would explain why at age 16, when she was told a nice family from misty hollow wanted to adopt a whole ass teenager she thought it was a prank or a sick joke. she did not believe it and even after she moved in she did everything to try and show them they shouldn’t keep her. but they did. and she’s never felt more loved in her life.

thing is, ever since mallory got to town she’s done nothing short of cause utter and complete havoc. straying good angelic teens from their rightful paths, leading married individuals ( read both male and female ) into the sinful hands of adultery, trespassing into abandoned locations, getting arrested for misdemeanors. 

no-one ever knows what to expect of her. she’s completely unreliable and too smart for her own good. she’s got a stellar intuiton and she’ll play you before you can even think about it. charming as can be when she wants to. loud mouthed, unhinged, moody.  drinking, doing drugs, having sex, keeping secrets. that’s the best description of mal i can give you.

oh and a completely useless detail: she refuses to wear anything other than high top chuck taylor converse. she has them in every color, pattern and even platforms. 

wanted connections: a total partner in crime, someone she corrupted, relationships that ended badly ( screams, tears, cheating, toxicity !! all the angst ), fwbs, the ‘i hate you but i can’t get enough of you pls answer my call i’m so horny’, someone whose marriage/engagement/relationship she broke off bc they cheated with her ( i love my lil homewrecker ), a yin to her yang ... and literally anything else. 

pinterest board.

if you made it this far you’re an absolute trouper and ily for it. if want any of those connections or any other you have in mind pls don’t hesitate to contact me ! 

[nsomniacsdream]

My life is quiet. Where I live is quiet. I cant remember the last time I saw someone who wasn't white. They were probably Hispanic and not black tho. The native people who live here have intermarried so many times they look almost European. A quick glance wouldn't register that theyre not. This is Oregon, where white settlers decided that if they couldn't have slaves, they would just ban blacks outright. Almost every town over 100 years old has the stories, about the black family who moved to town and then their house was empty one day.

I'm not from here, a transplant like so many others. We came for ocean air, or trees to the horizon, or to feel the rain that falls half the year. Where I was born was similar, there are still klan flags flying in towns around where I was born. But poc were still there. Your parents could talk about lazy mexicans or casually use one of the hundreds of slurs we have made up for black people, but you knew someone at school who was Hispanic and he wasn't lazy. You grew up with black classmates and they weren't stupid or worse. You had a chance, you know?

After I left home, because it was leave or work in the hog plant until I got injured or too old, I floated around a lot. Baltimore, where there were people from all over, but everyone agreed the black part of town wasn't safe. Texas, where every other person was hispanic, but the white people would abuse them to their face and if you were black you kind of expected to be called something on a daily basis. I drifted to Iowa after awhile, and watched everyone I know dying by inches because the factories were closing and meth was cheaper than booze a lot of the time. I lived in Phoenix when arpaio was running things, and I was told the first day that I should make sure my gf didn't go out after dark, because the sheriffs office hated women almost as much as they hated Mexicans. 1 out of 100 rape claims would be investigated. White people re elected him every time he ran. Trump pardoned him, Google him if you want to know why I'll never believe anything trump says.

I've lived all over the country, and I've never really had to struggle. When I need an apartment, there is one available. I need a job. I put out a handful of apps and have one by the end of the week. But I've also seen first hand how different it is for people who aren't white. My friend (roommate for a time), who would have lost everything he had, and his wife and his 2 daughters, because the factory was the only place that would take people with felonies and paid a living wage. He hadn't done anything i havent done before, but he did it while being black. My ex and I got into a car accident (another driver on their cellphone crashed into us doing 45 in a 30 while we were parked). If several witnesses hadn't come forward it got real close to the cops declaring her at fault, because the driver who hit us was white and claimed she swerved out in front of her. My ex was black.

I dont know what to do with all of this information most days. Im really far from any of the equality and police brutality protests, and I'd lose my job if I took time off to attend one. I calmly explain to people what the protests are about and why they should support them, but my entire county pretty much guzzles straight from Trumps hose. Im ignored, or called naive or that ive drank the librul kool-aid, and I'm sure some people have put a little checkmark next to my name in their minds. In my little neck of the woods, I have a quiet life, and I dont expect that to change.

I guess this is a really long post to say: We are out here. You have more support than you might think. Burn this whole fucker down if you have to, because you've all done the right things and been told to wait and its been GENERATIONS and nothing has changed. There is nothing in this country that we have that isn't built on the backs and the broken bodies of yall. Blacks, natives, Hispanics, Asians, we played every single one of you telling you that you could have your shot at the American dream right after you built up the system we would use to deny it to you. There is no point in trying to compromise, or any of that "these things take time", because that time is life literally stolen from you and your children. Im poor as shit, so you can roll me right in there with the rest of you, even though I'm given the benefit of the doubt for being white.

I stand with you all. Im tired to my core over watching this keep happening. And I will back you all the way, anything. But when you see that Bumfuck, oregon re elected some douchenozzle who uses the threat of antifa and blm murder to fire up white peole, know that we aren't all fucking idiots. We just can't yell louder than them.

[romefm]

i’m   like   95%   sure   i   have   an   assignment   due   tomorrow   and   it’s   already   midnight   ........   so   naturally   i’m   procrastinating   so   my   world   title   of   Captain   Dumbass   doesn’t   ever   come   into   question   👸👸   this   is   recycled   bc   i’m   chronically   incapable   of   effort   but   tl:dr   he’s   literally   the   embodiment   of   every   shitty   dude   u   have   the   misfortune   of   running   into   at   the   bar   :/   but   he’s   held   a   door   open   for   an   old   lady   1.5   times   in   his   life   so   all   is   forgiven   😉

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠  here  and  do  i  have  the  tea  for  you  .  rome  is  back  on  campus  ,  which  is surprising  considering  the  threatening  note  i  left  them  .  yes  ,  i  know  all  about him crashing  his  car  while  drunk  and  attempting  to  flee  the  scene  because  of  their pride.  imagine  the  tabloids  and  how  the  pierce  family  would  feel  for  such  information  to come  out  ,  not  to  mention  the  reputation  of  pike because  of  their  actions  .  at  this  rate  , he is  better  off  staying  put  in  atlanta ,  georgia  and  living  off  that  500m  family  net  worth. what’s  the  point  in  studying  psychology  with  plans  to play  in  the  nfl  ,  is  it  worth  it with what  i  know  ?  anyways  ,  they  may  want  to  continue  to  be  protective  &  lion-hearted because  the  irascible  &  machiavellian  attributes  make  me  want  to  spill  . 

i.

𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 : roman gabriel pierce

𝖆𝖌𝖊 : twenty - one

𝖉𝖔𝖇 : june 15th , 1998

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 / 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖘 : he / him

𝖘𝖊𝖝𝖚𝖆𝖑 & 𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 : 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️ 

𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙: 6‘2″  🤡

𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊: having graduated from the title of white man’s wh*re , he is now cordially referred to as the white man’s beefcake . he treats gym sessions like a therapy visit , clocking in at a friendly 220 lbs . like all gym rats w/o a personality , he keeps his hair short on the sides n longer on top , a la this look . he has a scar running along the inside of his right arm from when he broke it , and another that splits his left eyebrow from his eighteenth birthday

𝖔𝖈𝖈𝖚𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 : resident waste of space , quarterback for the hollingsworth mumbles ( update : it’s panthers ... they’re the panthers ) , least favorite son of the year recipient 1998 - 2019 .

𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖔𝖜𝖓 : atlanta , georgia .

ii.

second son of hall of fame ex falcons qb , miles pierce , and entrepreneur and daughter of a famed manhattan - based art collector , amélie pierce – rome’s future was pretty non - negotiable since day one . as soon as they could stumble around enough to pass for walking , miles had his sons enrolled in as many football programs as he legally could .

when rome was young , he loved it . the attention , the praise he received for his quickness despite being one of the smallest kids on the field . plus , going to his father’s games and being recognized as miles pierce’s kids was also fun . soon came time for the inevitable retirement on the heel of a downward - trending career , and after that things … changed .

suddenly , it was less praise and more demands . earlier practices , with his father making rome and his brother run drills until they were sick . suddenly , things that were previously good weren’t good enough , despite how much better his sons continued to be .

as anyone with half a brain could guess , these pressures eventually began to take their toll . with interests in anything else repressed by his father’s insistence that football is and always will be the most important thing in life , rome began to emulate his father’s aggressive attitude , first bringing it to the field and then , more notably , to his personal life . failed relationships , fights at school , sneaking home late absolutely blitzed out of his mind – none of the behaviors were healthy , but they were enough to take the weight of his father’s hands off of his shoulders , if only for a moment . until papa helicopter parent found out , that is .

tw abuse : despite his sons catering to his every will , miles’ incessant anger began to worsen , and soon a lot of the verbal abuse had started to become physical , too . sure , rome knew that it was wrong , but he also thought that maybe if he’d been better in the game last night , or worked harder at practice , maybe he’d stop .

he made varsity his freshman year of high school and took his team to the state championships , expecting his dad to finally approve of something he’d done . instead , he came home to the news that his mother was leaving – that his parents were splitting up and that this had been a long time combing . safe to say this mama’s boy ass bitch was devastated.

tw death : his dad only sunk deeper into his madness , but all that anyone else could see is that rome was throwing further , moving faster , and making better plays . a non - football related injury left him with a broken arm , and it was on the way home from the hospital that his father received the call that his ex - wife had taken her own life . devastated part ii , coming soon to a theater near you !

tw drugs , alcohol , general debauchery : the partying worsened . rome had entered a phase in his life where he was looking for something – anything to completely wipe his mind of any and all thoughts . the drugs , the alcohol , it was all a coping mechanism , but it definitely wasn’t a healthy one . soon , his brother left for college thousands of miles away , and rome found out that that fifth of rum goes down a lot easier after doing a few lines beforehand .

he chose to go to college in cali not because he wanted to , but because his dad knew that hollingsworth was a great school for scouting attention . in his midst of an extended bender compounded by having training now twice a day everyday on top of college courses , he decided to join pike – and he absolutely loves it .

he chose to major in psych because he wants to understand why his dad hates him so much skjfjks dumb b*tch .

also last summer he may or may not have allegedly accidentally wrapped his masterati around a telephone pole and gotten a dui . in reality , it was his brother’s accidental doing after a rather... heated argument between the two , but roman told him to gtfo and he’d take the fall because his bro finally managed to escape his dad and rome didn’t want him to suffer the same fate . it made headlines , but his dad pulled approximately 6 billion strings to get him conditionally reinstated to the team .

spent the summer before his junior year chillin in rehab , but he relapsed shortly after . consistency is key here , kids.

still bender - adjacent , but he’s kept it more lowkey because the nfl draft is coming in hot .

iii.

he really ………….. kinda sux , objectively sfdkjsdfjk . personality-wise and bc he has a southern accent .

he has so , so much pent up frustration and anger directed at his father and himself that it manifests in some pretty shitty behaviors .

he’s definitely controlling ( as a consequence of having v v little control over his own life ) , and he’ll manipulate any situation he deems worthy of his effort just to assure that he isn’t in any state of vulnerability .

i know yall get it , he vapes , but he’s definitely the kind of guy to try to keep the party running til 5 am and get pissed when people tell him that maybe he should stop .

he will provoke anyone and anything ( even inanimate objects ) if found in a self - destructive enough mood .

has a notoriously short temper , but what kind of gym rat doesn’t .

manages to still attain a 4.0 ( and in his words , psych is easy ) , so that’s another thing that makes it difficult for him to understand that his lifestyle is … per se … problematique .

10000% has sent a plethora of  u up ? texts

kinda gets a little .. hm .. sad sometimes but that’s only after everyone bails from the party n he’s left alone in a dirty ass frat house sdkfsdjk

definitely an irredeemable trash bag and pls don’t think of him any other way

is definitely fiercely loyal to the 2.5 people who can tolerate him .

currently in an uber ride to hell , but 10/10 hit the option so that his uber driver can’t talk to him 🤡

[ca1e70-deactivated]

a list of my entirely way too niche headcanons ive actually implemented for everyones imagination:

name options ive used and refuse to retire: david elizabeth strider (sometimes i dont feel like being a douche to others and saying thats not his name), harley davidson strider, and david james strider for the sake of simplicity

im not gonna tell yall the like. oc exes ive given him bc thatll take eighteen years. 

i dont rlly have an explanation on the ghost thing besides the fact he just can? ive occasionally pulled from family ghost stories and experiences bc i somehow got landed with family members who lived in a haunted house for a decade and enjoy scaring me with all the stories (including the time my cousin literally died on the kitchen floor from a bronchial spasm and one of the friends that was over asked my aunt later what was up with the old man she saw in the corner of the room that night - my cousin is fine btw shes just a huge bitch and a third grade teacher and i dont like her)

whether or not hes done drugs is based on absolutely nothing besides how im feeling in that moment. either hes the designated driver and sober friend forever or he got fired from his job after doing a line at work during graveyard with some random customers theres no inbetween (this absolutely happened @ waho. if dave works at waho hes a mess of a person and thats on the diner itself.)

ok look i hc dave w/schizophrenia besides when i was 14 i had a hyperfixation with learning about it and then at 16 was prescribed a medication and had side effects so wack my therapist genuinely thought 14 yr old me was onto something and its a weird way to cope with the idea that lady put in my head that i might “develop it in my twenties” which i turn 20 this year and i havent been able to stop obsessing and panicking over the prospect so PLEASE dont come in my inbox calling me ableist im not out here all harley quinn in suicide squad with the voices ok hes medicated, he goes to therapy, the hard fast delusion that lil cal was nearly sentient and informed bro of every single thing dave did no matter how asinine it was is no longer a debilitatingly affecting him ANYWAYS

i actually use the chicken/egg farming family pretty often just because its hilarious to me to give dave like. an actual mom and dad. hes literally an uncle to like three different kids he just never visits because they make fun of his skinny jeans and he hates one of his (incredibly bare-bones ocs all of them) brothers who threatened to bash his head in with a little league bat after dave broke his star wars lego set apart on accident (but not rlly) so their parents were like “why dont you stay with your brother in the big city for a lil while champ” and then they just never picked him back up? and thats on favoritism 

the other one is that his name is actually david reed and hes the middle child of a family of three who literally live the standard golden retriever white middle class life only they went to disney land or something equally as dumb one year when dave was like 6 and he wandered off so bro literally just went “huh free game” because frankly he was an idiot who thought maybe i should take this kid home because its real dangerous in parking lots and then it was too late to NOT have it seem like a kidnapping and thats why daves never had a summer job, seen his birth certificate, or gone to school. but vaguely remembers what kindergarten was like and having a pet dog and calling someone mom as a kid. 

im not making a bullet point about his sex life headcanons just use your imagination and acknowledge the fact bro essentially worked within the sex industry and i enjoy putting dave through trauma as a catharsis 

i stopped doing this one usually but if he did go to school hes been in percussion since fifth grade and played the drums in his high schools jazz band as well as various edgy teenager garage bands he likes to pretend dont have a youtube presence and that hes absolutely never been shirtless in front of plenty of his classmates because he wore a hoodie to a show like an idiot. idk occasionally ill put him in an actual band he doesnt hate but keeps separate from his lil turntechGodhead internet persona (which i will ALSO touch upon in a sec) until they wind up getting looped into a tour with some bigger named band that has a show in *insert beta kid here*’s city and hes gotta come clean solely so he can visit his online friend. sorry derseasterous thats the one time weve ever run into each other and i made him have a crush on one of his bandmates i was in my anti-daverose phase where i made dave a hoe and also didnt want to admit i still loved the ship all these years later 

i hate it so much but you know the whole vr loli trap voice shit that was popular a while ago? hes fucking baller at it for some reason. he did it as a joke while talking to bro and they both about shat their pants. if im feeling real ambitious, hes got a separate soundcloud solely dedicated to doing dumbass rap covers or making his own but in the voice under the pseudonym elizabeth “beth” davids that he will never admit is his. well, he will, but hes gonna be really fucking embarrassed about it. irony or not.

talking abt seperate soundclouds and stuff ive always had it where turntechGodhead was his like. essentially internet fucking persona facade shit he used because we all had that phase where we wanted memorable urls and stuff but also didnt want to totally ignore the nagging fear of people finding you in real life, until it turned into real life ppl finding you on the internet. so he also has basically an adjacent set of social media under the same name but its just a boring username i havent decided on so everyone he knows irl doesnt mix up with what hes made for himself as TG and the people he knows as TG dont know what highschool he goes to. (this occasionally comes with the territory of ppl on parp being pissed that daves “lying” or “hiding things” from his friends as if he was doing it out of spite instead of just keeping embarrassing tagged photos and videos from football games or when he ate shit at the skatepark from fucking with his “rap career”)

every once in a while i get on a kick where hes just german. like, i just replace houston texas with hamburg germany and have him apply to a university in whatever state is applicable for whoever im chatting with and it goes from there? sometimes he moved when he was little and went through the whole visa thing, sometimes he didnt go through the visa thing, sometimes hes a dual citizen because of family and shit, its all dependent on what suits the situation best. 

one that ive been fucking with for a while but hardly break out (until recently with like 5 roses in the span of one day hell yeah) is that he has a neighbor at the end of the hall who is like a thousand year old witch lady that hes basically adopted as his mother figure in lieu of not having one and shes totally cool with it, especially bc when she kicks the bucket she fully plans on giving dave all her occult stuff so her figure-skating coach and realtor daughter doesnt sell it at a garage sale and lets it all go to waste. she also once brought rose up by name in a conversation without any prompting of her existence which dave didnt realize for days, and then one time cryptically stopped and stared at an empty space in the wall, went “she has potential, you know.” then looked at him sitting on her kitchen counter with a smile “lots of it” and hes thought about that weekly ever since. (it is important to note one of the occult items he leaves her is literally her own personal book of shadows shes been filling out for decades its like a 600 page leatherbound book dave has no idea what its used for but the sheer amount of homemade spells and etc in it is like. gonna murder rose the second this chick gets her hands on it i promise you.)

theres the standard strife shit? im not rlly gonna get into those theyre all basically cookie cutter bullshit. its just standard bro and dave abuse talk. i like to inclulde the whole 24hr live cam up in the apartment that definitely watches dave in every room besides his own and the bathroom, but that quickly delves into the prospect of middle-aged men stalking him online and basically sexually harassing him in his own god damn home by talking about how they can see him just trying to take his shoes off in the living room after getting home and frankly? its not one of my best takes! but once you throw it into the headcanon bin, its there forever. 

he actually really does do something with his photography but not enough to warrant anything exciting, but he has his own branding for it and regularly takes pictures of his friends or anything else he thinks is moderately interesting enough to take pictures of, but those are just thrown into shoeboxes under his bed in favor of posting genuine shots because he wants to keep his image intact and blurry photos of jade smiling in the tree they climbed up together while bec paws at the base of it while whining isnt exactly something he wants the whole world to see.

i also pretty often but him into either paleontology OR i put him down as trying to become a mortician because he thinks handing roadkill once he graduated from museum giftshop specimens to doing his own taxidermy on the side has prepared him enough to perform an occasional autopsy and start embalming real human corpses. (sometimes i put my own desires in and make them his bc i have to project at some point and put him through the same EMT course i dropped out of bc it was one semester and he already has pretty decent first aid skills, but he definitely didnt expect it to be as fucking wild at times as it is, but whats he gonna do? get a job back at waffle house? the company hes working for just offered to pay like half his associates in paramedicine tuition and hes already got all his pre-recs done when he started for paleo. at least its a stable job and hes got the ability to be compassionate in the moment) 

im running out of things that ive done to the poor kid. OH 

hes not a virgin he had a girlfriend all four years of high school (shes also one of his optional and designated exes plz keep up) and their relationship ends in one of two ways: she dies in a car accident a week before their high school graduation, or she stops talking to him entirely a week after their high school graduation until a couple years later she gets into (guess what) a car accident with her current wife/girlfriend and dies which leaves behind their daughter. who just so happens to also be daves daughter. her name is hannah and i love her like my own but no one ever likes her and thats on the conditioning of dirk. does dave end up taking her in? yes. shes awesome and the first time he takes her to the park to like run off some fucking steam she disappears for two minutes and dave is moderately terrified until she comes back holding a dead baby squirrel and thats the moment he realizes huh maybe things really do be genetic.

ok at the bottom of the list im gonna add the couple of times hes been a camboy which usually coincides with the live apartment cam thing and the amount of people in his dms calling him hot or whatever, but typically its more of a started the day he turned 18 and basically dipped around 20 in favor of showing up randomly with no warning to complain about a video game dick in hand because it gives him an outlet that wont annoy his friends bc this is the fifteenth time hes had a lot to say this week about a certain boss battle and also the comments fuel his ego and daddy issues.

the last one wasnt the bottom but literally unless its explicitly proven otherwise every time anyone rps with me there is the underlying fact dave strider was a goalie on his high school lacrosse teams all four years and (shocker another one) definitely had the hots for one of his teammates like major hots like first gay experience hots. like it was painfully obvious that teammate also liked him back hots. like one night at a team sleepover one of the other guys was like can yall just makeout and get it over with were fucking tired and dave really had the balls to be offended and ask what the fuck they were talking about while literally sitting halfway in the mans lap bc for some reason they had to share the same chair. 

he is also guilty until proven innocent of being the worlds biggest loner outside of that sports team and even though hes literally a jock he still opts to eat his lunch alone in the hallway or something like that and has a tendency to leave girls on read, but bc hes got an in with the rest of the jocks hes basically drug around to plenty of parties and since hes conventionally attractive enough and popular in the aloof way that he is, hes got plenty of tagged insta posts and twitter directs and snapchat streaks going. 

THESE WERE ALL NO GAME AND DONT INVOLVE SHIPS BC I LIKE TO KEEP MY OPTIONS OPEN AND THEYRE LITERALLY ALL BASED OFF RPS IVE DONE I HOPE YALL JUDGE ME ACCORDINGLY

[typicalfictosexualfangirl]

dare-out (bnha one-shot; shinso x todoroki x mina x f!reader)

a/n: idk this idea just got into my head and yeah i really wanted to write it, i’m gonna use first person pronoun for the reader bcus that’s how i roll, and don’t question the way i write HAHAHA

summary: four people out to do some dares !!

Shoto, Hitoshi and I were lazing on the couch, just some casual netflix and chill while Mina was taking her own sweet time dolling up.

Well, in actual fact, it was only Hitoshi and I watching Lucifer that was playing on the television as his head laid on my lap.

Shoto was leaning against my shoulder, eyes glued to his phone, probably scrolling through Instagram or something. The three of us had bought him a smartphone his last birthday and yeah, we kinda convinced him to download social media so we could tag him in pictures and create a group chat where we share posts of memes and drop not-so-subtle hints of gifts that we wish someone would get for us.

Shoto adjusted himself on my right, shifting his butt further from me so that he was now lying on my lap too.

I sighed, realising that we have waited for Mina for almost 2 hours. “Babe, are you almost done yet?” I yelled from my place on the sofa, struggling not to move too much and ruining the comfortable positions of my two boyfriends.

“Yes!” she staggered down the stairs.

“Finally,” Hitoshi heaved, sitting up. The three of us turned to look at her, to find out the outfit that had wasted all of our times.

She had on a pale blue long-sleeved crop top that showed off her navel piercing that was of a breathtaking amethyst, a grey skater skirt that stopped mid-thigh, and furry ugg boots.

She spun one round for us to take in her entire outfit, “What do yall think?”

“I think,” I paused for impact, “that did not have to take a full one and a half hour,” I finished my sentence, smirking at her.

She pouted, “Bitch.”

“Now that everyone’s ready, can we go and get some food already?” Hitoshi complained.

“In due time,” I turned to him, pecking him on the lips, “but before that, let’s play a dare game.”

This time, Shoto spoke up, “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Aw, it’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, it does sound fun!” Mina exclaimed, wrapping her arms around me from behind the couch.

“So, we will split into two teams, the ladies versus the gentlemen, and the game will last until dinner time,” I explained the basic rules of the game, “the team that gives in on the most number of dares will have to do the other team a favour, deal?”

Knowing that they can never say ‘no’ to us, both Shoto and Hitoshi sighed in defeat.

“The boys can start,” I suggested, looking up at Mina who gave a nod in agreement.

“Okay, we’ll start with..” Hitoshi trailed of deep in thought, “[Y/N], wash your hands in the toilet bowl,” he smirked at me, the rest of our jaws dropping.

After processing the information, I caught myself and smirked back at him, “Easy.”

The four of us headed to the bathroom as I plunged my hands into the toilet bowl, Mina flushing it for me.

Once I lifted it from the water, I started spraying the water at Hitoshi.

“Oh no, you don’t, get away from me!” Hitoshi screamed as I chased him around the house.

Shoto helped me blocked his way, restraining him with a hug to prevent him from running any further as I happily wiped my hands clean on his shirt.

I thanked Shoto while Hitoshi muttered, upset, “I hate you.”

“I love you too,” Shoto smiled at him.

Mina kept her phone away and spoke up, “Okay, Sho, I dare you to order every single thing on the menu at McDonald’s.”

Shoto grinned at the sound of that, whipping out a credit card from nowhere that was very much Endeavour’s, “I can do that.”

“How has he not terminated that card already?” I questioned.

Shoto shrugged, “Probably because he’s willing to go to great extents to make up to us and patch the family back together.”

“Well, whatever. Let’s all go get some food, I’m starving,” Mina whined, shoving us all out the door.

“Says the one who made us wait for 2 whole hours,” Hitoshi stated, earning him a slap on his upper arm. “Ouch,” he rubbed the spot he was hit.

“Guys, stop the domestic abuse and pick up your pace,” I joked.

“You’re the one who abuses us the most,” both Hitoshi and Mina retorted.

I cowered into Shoto’s side. “Sho, they’re bullying me,” I pouted, causing Shoto to let out a chuckle and he patted my hair.

Buying out the entire menu was certainly a once-in-a-lifetime experience. We ended up having an eating competition, that was a draw between Mina and I, and quite a bit of leftover food that we did not touch.

We decided to pull pranks on people with it by immediately serving the food to them as soon as they told the counter their order. There was also one time where a little boy was tugging on his mother’s sleeve, pestering her about wanting to eat what we had, so Mina just went up and dropped a paper bag in front of them. It was all in good fun.

Shoto turned to Mina, our last paper bag in hand, “You see that group of guys there? Go sit beside them and chat them up while eating their fries.”

“Sure, but if I get beaten up yall gotta stand up for me okay?” she waved us off, stalking towards them.

We watched as Mina hopped onto the chair beside one of the guys, starting up a conversation and casually eating his fries. Every time she reached for the fries, the guy’s eyes would dart from her face, to her hand, to his fries, and back to her face again when she popped the fry into her mouth and slowly chewed on it. He tried to move the packet of fries away from her but she would somehow find her way back to it and eat them again. It was truly a hilarious sight to watch.

It was only when the group stood up, the rage burning in their eyes that we decided to interfere, afraid that a fight would break out. Shoto gave them the bag of free food as compensation for the fries that Mina ate.

“Well, that was intense,” Hitoshi commented as soon as we got out of the fast food restaurant.

Mina agreed, “It was scary and hot at the same time, I’d say I’d never do it again but we all know I will.”

We all burst out laughing.

“I wanna give a dare now!” I exclaimed, raising a hand. “Sho, Toshi,” I turned to both boys, “we can’t be selfish so it’s time for us to share your bodies with your fans.”

The looks of horror on their faces made me laugh out loud again. They sure did not like physical affection, unless it was from either one of us.

I placed my hands on their shoulders, “The two of you shall provide fanservice by giving free hugs at the central plaza.”

“Without your shirts on,” Mina added as soon as I finished.

I nodded at that suggestion. “You two can pass it up if you are prepared to do us ladies a favour!”

It was then that Hitoshi was motivated to not let the dare get to them, “Never.” He dragged Shoto by the hand and headed for the plaza, “Come on, Sho, we’re not gonna lose today. We’re gonna prove them wrong and show them that we can do this.”

At the plaza, Mina and I were seated at the fountain, holding up the signs we had made for the boys to give hugs to the members of the public. It was a heartwarming sight indeed, people of all ages going up and wrapping their arms around them, the genuine smiles on their faces contagious and attracting a whole lot of attention, brightening the day of those that were here to witness this exchange.

“They would be so much more popular if they were more willing to smile in public like that,” Mina whispered in my ear.

I nodded in agreement but I couldn’t imagine it. They have definitely become more expressive ever since the four of us started dating, but my selfish ass kinda not want anyone else to see the expressions they could make.

“Earth to [Y/N]!,” I heard Mina spoke as she wave a hand in front of my face, breaking my reverie.

I shook the thoughts out of my head, “Sorry, I was just thinking about that large group of schoolgirls before.”

This caused a smirk to form on Mina’s face. “Ooh, girl, you jealous or something?” she nudged me in the side.

“I guess,” I muttered, embarrassed.

“But you were the one who dare them to do this,” her voice was accusing, even though that was the absolute fact.

“I know,” I heaved a sigh.

“Aw, babe, you know you don’t have to be,” she wrapped an arm around me and I leaned my head on her shoulder, “you mean so much more to us than we can express, and even if those two idiots were to dump your stupid ass, just know that I’ll always be here,” she comforted me.

I gave her a smile as thanks and she leaned down to kiss me, a reassurance to tell me that she meant every single word she had just said.

Shoto had his hands on his hips and Hitoshi had his above his knees, both of them were panting hard.

“Whoa, you guys seem like you just came back from a workout or something,” Mina commented on their sweaty and disheveled appearances.

After catching his breath, Hitoshi spoke up, “Damn, that was harsh.”

“[Y/N], you alright?” Shoto asked me gently, coming to sit on my other side.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, other than being jealous of the group of girls back there, she’s good,” Mina explained the situation in my stead.

I shoved her away from me, “Traitor.”

She stuck her tongue out at me in response while Shoto tilted his head slightly in confusion, “But weren’t you the one who suggested we do this?”

“That’s what I said!” Mina huffed.

“That’s why I couldn’t say anything,” my voice was muffled by my hands covering my face.

Hitoshi sat on the now empty spot beside me. “You know there’s no reason for you to,” he pulled me into his side.

“Yeah, to us you’re irreplaceable,” Shoto added, wrapping his arms around my waist and leaning on me, “it was all thanks to you that we are who we are today.”

“That’s what I told her!”

I grinned. If anyone asked me what bliss was, I’d tell them it was this moment, but it was not only that, it was all the moments I shared with them, all the memories we made together. Four people of different personalities, backgrounds and lifestyles coming together, and sharing a house together. Sharing a life together.

“I’m so glad you guys are a part of my life.”

a/n: THIS IS NOT THE END, I WILL BE BACK WITH A CONTINUATION, MORE DARES, AND MORE OF THESE FOUR 

[honkhonkrichard]

some adult losers club headcannons

richie loves all of Billy Joel’s music

Richie and patty get along really well!! they’re great friends and it makes Stan Happy

Patty is a huge chatterbox and a little bit of a scatterbrain and everyone is surprised to see Stan loves her but yall

Stan loves patty so much. every time he looks at her his heart thumps and he always gives her heart eyes

And patty loves stan!!! she loves him and always has and always will

Beverly, kay McCall, Audra Phillips and Patty have girls nights!! they all meet up at a bar or they go for lunch or they hang out at someone’s house and its good. they drink and talk and laugh and its good, 

Richie is an actor, comedian, and musician, by the end of 2016 (post-IT) he has 4 studio albums, 3 comedy specials, and 78 credits (with 5 awards!!) He started out as a DJ in college, but from there he went into music and acting

Ben gets his best work done in bookstores and libraries!! He loves the atmosphere

Beverly once had a breakdown that resulted in her locking herself in her office and bursting out 38 hours later and declaring “I’M BRINGING CAPES BACK.” 

Mike collects bottles/bottle caps, as well as maps of varying types, and mugs

Richie came out as bisexual to the public in an interview in 2014

Beverly’s brand name is Firecracker

Eddie has no public shame after IT took his arm. He will say dumb shit in public. He doesn’t care if people judge him for going into an adult store. 

Sometimes kids will ask Eddie about his prosthetic arm and Eddie always happily explains that his arm got torn off by some monster who eating pushy, question asking kids

Eddie isn’t a fan of children

Richie owns 16 guitars

After IT, beverly starts to wear bolder makeup, to spite tom, who hated it when she wore anything that wasn’t nude/natural 

Richie is covered in tattoos

When he’s stressed, Mike stays late at work and reorganizes/cleans the library

Even at the the ripe old age of 40 Bill is still going through his emo phase

Ben gets really flirty when he’s drunk. He turns into the personality (see: fuckboy) he looks like he has

Mike has published a few children’s books!! 

20% of the money Beverly’s company would make goes to women’s homeless shelters and supporting women leaving abusive households

Patty went to university to become a kindergarten teacher (she was for 5 years), then she became a cop (6 years) and then she settled on a family lawyer 

Richie believes that stanley uris is the funniest motherfucker on the planet

Richie talks about Stan (or at least has so many stan stories) that people actually recognize stan in public

Richie in a 2017 interview: “I once gotta text, from Stan, that said I’m sitting in a cafe in new york and some teenagers fucking recognized me because of you You asshole I got excited I thought my accounting business hit NYC NO ITS BECAUSE YOU TALK ABOUT ME TOO MUCH and it was probably thr funniest thing he’s ever said

Stan is the richie of his work’s social circles

Mike can’t whistle

Kay McCall is a functional, distinguished lesbian. her coming out to Bev (and unfortunately Tom) is the cause of Tom firing her from the firecracker company

Stan and Patty love musicals

Richie doesn’t tan and he finds it the single most frustrating thing about himself (he burns and leaves freckles lol) 

Richie has all the social media (@RichRecords on Twitter, @Trashmouthrecords on instagram, he’s also on snapchat from time to time (but not often) and he sometimes twitch streams himself playing video games) 

He’s on instagram the most but there’s also the fun game his fans play, which is this week on Richie Tozier liked

Richie cannot dance. Neither can ben. It’s horrible.

When Stan and Patty (finally) have their baby (a girl named Daisy) Stan asked Richie to be the god father. Richie cries and says yes

Richie’s parents are buried in a private grave behind his grandparent’s Italian villa side by side. protruding out of them are stone hands holding one another

ben goes blep

Mike does a lot of scrapbooking/arts and crafts!! 

he also gives a ton of stickers out all the time. the losers club thinks he should be a teacher. He refuses this with a bashful smile. 

Mike is an openly gay man (he came out in 2002)

Mike once got a donation of $10,000 to help repair/rebuild/better the library. it was anonymous, except for the signature RT

Richie’s full, legal name as of 2016 is Richard James “Trash” Tozier 

his stage name is Trashmouth Records

Richie has his own late night talk show by the time he’s 50.

Eddie expands his limousine company (Wings on Wheels) to LA to live with Richie

Ben’s favourite video game is Minecraft. Same with Mike. They play together, sometimes, even though Ben feels like maybe it’s a bit silly. Mike always assures him it’s great

Stanley, who grew up getting visciously bullied for how he looks/skin colour, grows up to be arguably the most attractive out of the lucky 7

Patty, Bev and Richie all call each other Babe

Bill’s office is covered in sticky notes and papers taped to the wall 

Mike’s favourite song is american pie by Don McLean

Richie plays guitar, piano, saxophone and kazoo

Stan plays violin

Richie, Stan, Eddie and Mike all wear glasses

Bev, Ben and Bill make fun of them for this

ben and Bev have 3 kids together. Eileen, Elliot and jackson

Bill lives with Mike

everyone is alive and well

feel free to ask me to expand on any of these points

[tomjopson]

hey that lt irving, you know him?

Irving is such a fascinating character for me in The Terror. But. It’s taken me like an entire month to reconcile book!Irving vs show!Irving.

I adored Irving in the book. He was, hands down, my favorite character. I was invested; I wanted him to be happy and succeed. His death in the book was very abrupt, and lemme tell you, I sent some all-caps texts to some buddies because they had to know how Mad how I was. 

(this is going to get longwinded, so the rest is under the cut)

Disclaimer: I read Dan Simmons’s book before I watched the show. I know there’s some beef in the fandom with the book, but I enjoy both book and show for different reasons but especially for how they complement each other.

Because I am an impatient person, I spoiled a lot of the show because I was curious about how the show handled things differently, what actor played who, etc etc etc. So, I was confused by all the religion-based jokes on Irving’s character since that was never a part of his book counterpart.

Then I watched the show. And I immediately hated Irving. 

Let me try to explain why his douchier moments really rubbed me the wrong way.

1) His book relationship with Silna is completely gone in the show. Which is totally fine because I love the autonomy that the show producers consciously gave Silna by updating her story arc; plus the Goodsir and Silna interactions were a nice nod to historical trivia (Goodsir’s dictionary) and just super sweet, period.

I was disappointed that they removed this relationship from the show, because Irving’s ridiculous starry-eyed fascination with Silna was adorable. Like, he was awkward, and she just tolerated this bumbling Englishman who was trying his best??? The scene that really stuck out to me was when Irving searched for her, found her in the igloo, and took to her a gift of the marmalade -- that he painstakingly saved for her over time - and the handkerchief. His delight at her reaction (holding the handkerchief to her cheek and smiling at its texture to the handkerchief) was so sweet, which of course was followed up by her returning the same handkerchief to Irving’s body following his murder (I’m still crying about that, okay). 

2) His religious zeal was not a part of his character in the book at all, but obviously, played a pretty big role in his tv persona. (second disclaimer: I have personal issues with uber religious people because of my own past, so that was automatically one mark against him) But, this religious fervor of his made his interactions with, say, Hickey a lot more ominous. As well as the implied subtext that he might have said something to Crozier about the sodomy which resulted in the “dirtiness” charge being tacked onto Hickey’s punishment.

Book!Irving did not do this. At all. He wouldn’t. Hickey’s line in the show about how Irving is a man who fears chaos is the most accurate description of Irving as he was portrayed in the book. (so, honestly, part of me thinks that show!Irving didn’t tattle on Hickey either, but that’s a topic for another meta rant) If anything, book!Irving was really uncomfortable around Hickey and might have been a tiny bit scared of him.

3) JFC THE SCENE WITH MANSON COMPLAINING ABOUT THE GHOSTS. That wasn’t even Irving in the book!

So, much like giving Silna her autonomy which removed the Irving/Silna relationship, the show producers also changed the Hickey/Manson dynamic with Hickey/Gibson. Again, a smart choice because it removed a sexually/emotionally abusive relationship. 

But it made Irving’s I’m going to order you scene with Manson really mean. Irving didn’t had any negative interaction with Manson, so his weird flex of “I’m an officer, and you are a seaman paid to do what you are told to” feels a lot of bullying. Like, does this guy just wander the lower decks looking for infractions??? Because that it is how it felt.

--

So, that pretty much covers the basics of what I disliked when I first watched the show. I’m sad to say that I dismissed a lot about show!Irving because of my first impressions. Upon rewatching the show a couple times, I have warmed up considerably to Ronan Raftery’s portrayal of Irving. 

His religiosity makes him a tragic character in that 1) he still is trying his best but 2) it makes him come across as very uptight and unforgiving. There is a subtext when he confronts Hickey later about “seducing” Gibson that everything Irving is saying to Hickey sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself than Hickey. Now, who knows then what Irving is running from? But there is definitely some spiritual self-flagellation going on that is, in turn, making him seem harsh to the men under him.

His harshness may also be his manner of trying to be a good officer. He only acts that way around the lesser ranked men. The rest of the time, he seems quiet, a little sweet (his interaction with Jacko! oh my god!), and very much a young man excited to be a part of a groundbreaking, scientific expedition.

Lastly, his final scene with the Inuit family (while greatly condensed in the show for brevity’s sake) is the closest we get to seeing Irving the man. Not Irving the sailor, not Irving the officer, not even Irving the zealot. Obviously, he’s desperate for food and help at this point. But I also like to believe that some of the earnestness of book!Irving is still in show!Irving, and that is why he is quick to reach out to the Inuit family. Why he doesn’t let himself be blinded by English racial prejudice, and why he introduces (with his voice cracking, ugh my heart) himself with his first name. John. Just John.

--

ANYWAY, IF YALL WANTED A HEARTFELT AND LOGICAL CONCLUSION, I DON’T GOT ONE. This is the extent of what my brain can handle right now, so please take my meandering thought process with a grain of salt. I was just thinking a lot about Irving, and wanted to explain (maybe just to myself, who knows) why I didn’t initially like him but have come to appreciate his show adaption as well.

[casworan]

❝ pride was fed to him from a silver spoon and now that he’s grown up, he’s grabbed the spoon and fed his ego some more. ❞ THOMAS HAYES? No, that’s actually CASWORAN ROWLE. Only EIGHTEEN years old, this SLYTHERIN alumni works as a PHILANTHROPIST and is sided with THE DEATH EATERS. HE identifies as A CIS MAN and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be SNOBBISH, ENTITLED, and CRUEL but also DISCIPLINED, METICULOUS and CHARISMATIC. 

LINKS: stats, pinboard, playlist. CHARACTER PARALLELS: schmidt (new girl), henry winter (the secret history), alistair ryle (the riot club), chad radwell (scream queens), chad charming (descendants) --- (how are two of these named chad wtf) HELLO uh just a heads up that i donut condone any of the behaviour this shithole throws into the world. yikes! also there’s some triggers in here for abuse and terminal illness, but they will be marked <3 

history

let’s get one thing straight --- emrick rowle and hemera rosier did not love each other when they married each other and they knew about it. they both agreed that their marriage was a good choice, a smart move, that it would benefit both and --- well, they both had ambition streaming through their veins, so the choice was made easily. they married, for political reasons, for money, but absolutely not for love. 

casworan was born a year into their marriage and was the perfect son. he wasn’t given a welsh name like so many rowles before him had, but a cornish one, celebrating hemera’s mother’s cornish ancestry. 

casworan means one who is powerful in battle, which emrick liked. he wanted a soldier, a pawn, a piece in his great chess match that was the world.

cas is a cousin to genie, wes and lo, and also to seren on his mother’s side.

and casworan’s parents might not love each other, they did love him. his mother’s love was doting and smothering, but genuine and unconditional.  his father’s was conditional, and based on expectations and constantly changing from hot to cold. emrick raised casworan to the perfect heir, the perfect son, the perfect pawn.

emrick rowle is a strategist, but also a coward. he uses his money and influence to pull strings behind the scenes, but is never the one to publicly call the shots. casworan is his son, but he’s also ... another piece in the game. he’s the person who’ll pick up where he left off, and emrick won’t leave everything to someone he does not trust and respect.

hemera is evan rosier’s daughter, by the way, and by no means a sweetheart, but a better parent. compared to emrick, the standard is quite low but still --- she is a better parent, and casworan is a complete momma’s boy. 

so casworan grows up --- spoiled dirty and loved by both parents. he learns languages (french and kernowek from his mother, latin and english grammar and such from a tutor), learns to play the violin, learns about his family’s history and legacy and how it intertwines with the rest of the history of the wizarding world, learns about blood purity and how one day he and his parents will rise above all the unworthy members of their society. he takes it all up and questions nothing, both because he has no reason to, and because his parents are convincing.

abuse tw (verbal and physical) // that’s not to say life was perfect. there was always a certain coldness at home. the lack of love between cas’ parents was clear to him from a young age, and it’s quite a strange thing, when your parents don’t seem to love each other but dont have any issue with it. there was no room for failure at home, no room for toeing the line. his father’s words could go from praising and prideful to harsh and cruel in seconds, his hands hard and unforgiving. casworan learned to keep his back straight and work harder and to swallow whatever anger he felt. he listened to every word that came from his father’s lips and took them in as truth and never questioned the way things were. end of tw

casworan went to hogwarts at age eleven ( he’d seen the castle before, of course --- he’d visited hogsmeade plenty of times before with his mother ) and was sorted into slytherin there. it was an easy sorting --- there were not many non-slytherin qualities the hat saw, besides maybe a sense of loyalty and a hunger for learning but cas’ cunning, shrewdness and ambition outweighed everything. 

hogwarts came easy to casworan. he was a good learner and knew plenty of people from his life before school -- people who ran in the same circles. to branch out wasn’t something he felt he needed to do, with a few exception here or there ( for either particularly skilled people or other purebloods he didn’t know yet ). casworan likes learning, values his education and was, well, a nerd. a hardworking student. was in a few clubs too, i’m sure --- i will get back on that when i have it figured out for plotting purposes! 

terminal illness tw // in casworan’s third year, his mother fell ill. it was a genetic disease, an incurable one, one that soon left her weakened and bedbound and tired. his father’s response wasn’t to stick to her side --- they didn’t love each other after all, and in all honesty, hemera didn’t want him on her side either --- but to flee in stead. his involvement in shady dealings grew and he retreated to the city more and more for work. casworan ... well, didn’t respond very well. 

abuse tw // he raged. he cried and raged and kicked against his father’s shins and demanded that he solved this because, well, the world had always given casworan exactly what he wanted, and when he got something he absolutely did not want, the one person he could blame was his father. he acted like a child because he was one, and his mother was going to die, and his father broke the news in such a cold way that he couldn’t help but rage. his tantrum was met with cold eyes and the same cruelty cas had felt before.

this was when a seed of hate for his father started to grow, something he’d never even dared to feel before. it’s still growing to this day. end of abuse tw //

a family friend moved in to help his mother, and they got a second house elf and life changed, thigns shifted. casworan learned what it was to feel out of control and well, he didn’t like it one bit. he’s entitled and spoiled and used to getting everything he wants and this situation is something he has absolutely no say in and it drives him mad. rather than give him some perspective, it just makes him act more entitled and controlling in the rest of his life. end of terminal illness tw //

so cas makes his way through hogwarts, acting like an entitled twat, hanging with his lads, having a laff here and there and earning a whole lot of NEWTs. he had no qualms sharing his world views or sharing his entitled nature, here and there showing a more violent and cruel streak. casworan is a bully, an elitist prick, someone who looks down on most people. 

when the war breaks out, well --- he’s quick to sign up. he believes in the cause, of course, and there’s no other option, really. he’s been prepped for this life. this is what he was made to do. he doesn’t even consider not joining. and so he joins and feels pride and power and a thirst to proof everyone around him that he’s the motherfucking shit. what an IDIOT.

besides his death eater life, cas is mostly focused on maintaining his image. like his father, he works hard on things like charity and philanthropy, so his name appears in the newspaper linked with good news almost exclusively. he’s picky, of course, about the causes he works for ----- things related to education, he genuinely works for, but there’s also some questionable things he donates to.

and then besides that, cas is mostly focused on enjoying life. getting drunk or high out of his mind, fucking shit up with the lads, having a good old time because guess what? the world is his to own and ruin, and he won’t stop at nothing. he’s entitled and obnoxious, but he always pays and tips well and sees absolutely no issues with his behaviour. he can’t wait for the world to become even more his as the war progresses. 

personality & tidbits

...... an asshole.

no literally he’s such an asshole. he’s so fucking used to the world catering to his ugly needs and getting everything he wants and he’s so entitled and such an ASSHOLE.

someone please punch him

anyway --- he likes Extra things. velvet and silk and rich fabrics and leather shoes and accessories with snake themes and polo shirts and ... he dresses like a frat boy, but then mixed with wizarding fashion

ugly. 

pretentious and snobbish to a fault. wants nothing but the best and is used to the best. would often complain about the house elves and their quality of food at hogwarts, because his house elves were much better cooks, they had been trained in france after all!!!

kind of hates his name and prefers to go by cas at all times, and i dont blame him

has daddy and mommy issues lmao !!! 

capitalist right wing scum, tbh. would have voted trump and brexit and all that shit if he was a real person. I HATE HIM SO MUUUUUCHHHHHHH.

“if youre poor, thats your own fault!”

he is literally the worst person

i hate-write this character its a load of fun

he loves his hair lmao

plays the violin and generally likes classical music? a snob, i told yall. also likes other music, let me figure it out pls thanks

okay let’s talk about some of his better sides because so far all ive done is drag this kid and thats reasonable, but ... he’s got some good things, i guess. 

he’s a good friend. like, if you’re his mate, you’re his mate for life (or until you turn your back, which is when he will feel hurt and will hurt u back yike!). he’ll be there for u Big Time. not good at emotional support, but good at sitting with a glass of wine/whiskey and talking/listening. will finance u if u need it (he doesnt like poor ppl but makes an exception for friends i guess?). will punch someone for u.

he ... does really value education? he would just like to see hogwarts change around bc there’s so much unnecessary shit (read: muggleborn students and subjects like muggle studies and divination). but yeah, he rly thinks that learning is important and that u have to ~broaden your mind ( but not too much ofc )

he is pretty family oriented, and rn he’s of course 18 so that’s not a big thing, but he’d be a ... proper dad? i think? he rly wants a big fam eventually

still a dick

good dueller and generally a pretty skilled wizard which is a bummer :/

loves partying and getting drunk out of his mind and then breaking stuff that isnt his, very riot club like

idk what else to say but HE IS AN ASSHOLE.