#and a lot of the time we. REALLY don't have the patience for fic that doesn't have decent depictions for the gals

[mantisgodsdomain]

Apparently there's a fic reading challenge thing this year, but after doing a quick skim of the goals... we don't think we'll be touching it with a ten-foot stick. Some of these goals put a VERY bad taste in our mouth. The idea of a "diversity checklist" isn't supposed to be... literal, we don't think? No? We're remembering that one quote about "listening to people of color being like eating your vegetables for white activists" and we're feeling like it may actually have been understating whatever the hell is going on here.

[joonsytip]

All Too Well || Wonwoo

Synopsis: With Wonwoo's dilemma hitting the wall and your perseverance getting stronger, will the events unfold as foreseen or the fate will turn its course?

Word Count: 2k

Third and final installment of Wonwoo drabble series (set in the Withering for You universe but can be read as a standalone drabble series).

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Say Don't Go | So It Goes | All Too Well

It's been a week since Wonwoo has seen you. When he woke up that fateful day along with nothing but the void you, it didn't take him long to recollect the happenings from within the car to his sheets. The slightly recovered bruises on his knuckles and the bloodstains on his bedroom wall are the witnesses of the frenzy state he was in, still is.

The guilt of sleeping with you eats him up. The regret of getting wasted and causing the slip of his true feelings and also his dick into you, makes him wanna get swallowed by the ground. He hates that his subconscious mind was conscious enough to hear your sobs but did nothing to stop them.

Wonwoo contemplates for the whole week that follows. He wonders if he should contact you or let you have your space and contact him whenever you're ready.

He's not clear in head, unsure of what he'd say on seeing you again.

Sorry, it was a mistake. He wonders if he should go ahead with the classic lie and be an entitled jerk, letting you berate him which would gradually help you in letting go those feelings for him.

It wasn't a mistake, I really meant everything I said and did but sorry we can't be together. This seemed too much of truth bombing in a situation where the other party (you) is already hurt beyond repair.

In his mind, he tries several other permutations and combinations but never considers that one way which would save everyone from the headaches and all the heartbreaks.

Everyone can sense the shift, something has definitely happened by the way you have been avoiding meetups and can guess the reason to be Wonwoo. They can't pinpoint exactly but they're sure it started right after that night's party.

"I need you to take everything off your chest while I'm asking you nicely.", your best friend tells you, "My patience has been thinned nowadays and don't make me loose my temper."

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, as you look at her and Seungcheol whose eyes are begging you to comply with his wife because she can indeed be scary.

"Do you want Seungcheol to be gone from here?", she asks, her gaze softening, "It's okay, he won't mind."

Before you could answer, Seungcheol is already off his seat saying, "I'll head back to the office, have some matters to take care of.", and he leans to peck his wife on forehead, "Call me if you need anything and let me know once done, I'll come and pick you up."

After Seungcheol leaves, a comfortable silence falls upon.

"You're already showing.", you say smiling and your best friend mirrors one to you.

"Four months already", she says caressing her protruding belly, "Time flies by, I swear it feels like yesterday I took the test and it came out positive. Seungcheol had cried the whole night, holding me close. Though he has became a lot more sensitive than me.", she adds and looks at you, "But enough about us. I came here just to make you lift some weight off. I could have brought Gyu, but I thought we should have a one to one before letting the guys know if at all you're willing to."

When your gazes meet, you can tell that she already has an inkling because her hunch has always been accurate. So you squirm in your seat and after failing to keep the tears at bay you tell her what had exactly happened in a messy-teary state.

After consoling you, she waits for you to stop crying, blinking back her own tears.

"Are you planning to address this to Wonwoo?", she asks softly.

You shake your head, "He probably doesn't even remember."

"Bullshit." she scoffs, "Are you waiting for him to contact you? Do you want me to talk to him?"

You chuckle with all bitterness, "Yes, I wanted him to contact me but it's been a week already and honestly, I don't even want to see him now because he'll repeat the same words, which are not exactly pleasant to hear. I hate how right headed he is, how all his fears are legit. I wouldn't have done it either."

You lean up to look at her, "Also, I don't want you to talk to him and I'd appreciate it if you can keep this to yourself because we're in the same group and the guys would cause a ruckus if they become aware."

She strokes your hair in a soothing manner and you almost drift off until she nudges you to tell something but you're already dismissing her off, "Don't even think of trying to do anything. I've just accepted my fate, I'll gradually move on."

Another week passes by and Wonwoo thinks he's ready to confront you. He had taken the entire office, everyone in his circle by surprise by taking an entire week off. Seungcheol being an amazing boss and understanding friend easily granted his request in the best hopes of having his friend clear the clouds clogging in his head.

Wonwoo sends you a text asking you to meet him whenever you're free. He clutches the phone tightly in his hands, feet tapping anxiously as he awaits your reply.

When he doesn't receive one after an hour, he's calling you only to be unanswered. Rationality leaving his bones, he keeps on calling your number until it gets recieved and it's an unfamiliar male voice answering the phone.

There's a sharp pang in his heart when he gets to know that it's your blind date who has picked up the call since the phone kept ringing and you've gone to washroom. Though he wants nothing but to rush to whenever you currently are, he curtly ends the call and decides to wait for your reply to his text.

His unwavering gaze directed towards the phone might have worked because he receives a response late at night and he's meeting you tomorrow.

You are unfazed, never once thinking about Wonwoo. That's what you try to tell yourself, that's how you plan to act in front of him. You don't anticipate his arrival at your apartment, that's partially true because you know you're gonna get heartbroken again because even though you want to tie the loose ends, you're sure he's only coming to cut them off wholly.

So you tell your mother who has been nagging you to get married to set you up for blind dates and this time you promised you'd seriously consider them with marriage perspective. Hence, today you're going to another date with someone you know this time and not at all impressed about.

The doorbell rings and you check the monitor to confirm that it's Wonwoo before letting him in.

"Are you going somewhere?", Wonwoo asks as he settles on the couch and you take a seat on the chair.

You nod, "Going on a date with Minjun."

Wonwoo's jaw clenches, his hands ball into fists as he asks, "Kim Minjun? He's a womanizer, Y/N. Didn't you go on a date yesterday?"

You scoff, "And how does that concern you anyway?", your lips curl up, "People can change after marriage."

Wonwoo short circuits at your verbal jab.

"Marriage? How can you even consider Minjun out of all people?"

Your expression turns grim when you say, "If I can't marry the person I love then marriage for me would be just another business deal, another merge to benefit the company, solidify our social status."

Trying to maintain the unbothered facade, you ask, "Why did you want to meet?"

"Why did you leave me alone in the bed?", Wonwoo asks toning down, "When you left, you took all of the warmth with you."

You suck in a sharp breath, breaking the eye contact.

"Within these two weeks I went through all sorts of possibilities from never acknowledging the fact that we slept to being a jerk, dismissing it as a simple hookup to letting you down subtly.", he gets up and walks up to you, crouching in front of you, "But as I pondered over, the only honest answer residing within my heart was not to be a coward anymore and be honest about my feelings, be honest with you."

Your heartbeat quickens, as his hands encase yours, you feel the warmth seep from him.

"I love you, Y/N.", Wonwoo confesses, "Like you, I have also harboured feelings for you for a long time. I cherish every moment we've spent together."

You're eyes go wide, heart constricting in chest. You feel your inners catapulting. You thought you know him all too well to give up upon the possibility of being together but witnessing him stripping bare in front of you is something you've always wanted but never expected to happen.

Wonwoo gently holds your face, voice soft, gaze emitting tenderness when he says, "I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for projecting my fears and insecurities upon you. But I have realised that you're worth everything and above. For you, I would fight the world if you allow me to stay by your side."

Rendered speechless, your teary eyes look at him with such anguish that it makes Wonwoo want to beat himself for breaking your heart over and over again.

Moments pass by and you both fall into comfortable silence. You're now seated on his lap, head laying his chest as he gently strokes your hair.

"It won't be easy.", you speak, head still downed, as your hand takes in his, entwining the fingers, "But I'd go to hell and back for you if time comes."

You shift back to look at him, "And I promise to be your shield, if anyone tries to hurt you or Wonseok, they'd have to face me first. I won't let anyone hurt you.", your gaze softens, "All of your worries, fears and sentiments are valid, Wonwoo. But it would be nice if you share them with me from now on because you're not alone, we're in this together. I love you."

Wonwoo swears he doesn't cry easily but your words seem to have opened the floodgates as his loud sobs echo throughout the house.

"Thank you.", he smiles as you wipe his tears and leans in to kiss you.

As your lips graze, the shrill ringing your phone startles you both. You grab it from the couch and the screen flashes Kim Minjun as the caller.

There's a sharp change in Wonwoo's expression as he takes the phone from your hand, putting it on speaker and answering it.

"Uh sorry, who's this speaking? Could you please get Y/N on the phone?"

There's a terse movement in the muscles of his jaw as Wonwoo responds, "I'm Jeon Wonwoo, Y/N's--", his gaze shifts at you, lips stretching in a smile, "Lover. I'm cancelling the date and please don't ever contact her again."

As soon as he hangs up, you tease him, "Lover huh? Since when?"

Wonwoo grins like he's drunk in love, he might as well be, "Since the day, you got drunk and danced on the tabletop after the semesters ended."

You gasp, "What do you want in exchange for deleting this memory?"

He's so lovesick, giggling cutely and being all touchy, "What about making new ones and keeping this one in my vault, sealed?"

Your heart flutters at the insinuation. True to your words, you'd surely fight the world to keep him with you.

And your lover chants all's well that ends well to ending up with you, gratefully with all his heart.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[asirensrage]

Catalyst - Uzui Tengen & Wives One Shot

Title: Catalyst

Rating: M

Pairing: Reader/Makio/Hinatsuru/Suma/Tengen

Fandom: Demon Slayer

Warnings: Swearing. Sex. Polygamous relationships. F/F, M/F, mention of M/F/F/F/F. Mention of you being from the future. Un-betad.

Summary: You meet Makio first...

Notes: This fic possessed me. I don't entirely know what happened but here it is. I don't even usually like writing in 2nd person, but like I said, it possessed me. I just had the line "you meet Makio first" in my head and this is what happened. I wrote it in the space of 2-3 hours. This is my first time writing Tengen and his wives (aside from my Rengoku/OC fic which isn't posted). Reader is unnamed and undescribed but references to being female. Enjoy.

You meet Makio first. 

It happens by accident. You end up standing next to each other as you wait for your turn to pay for the food. Her outfit catches your attention, not because it’s low cut and short, but because it reminds you of the outfits you’re used to back home…in your own time. You’ve been blending in as best you can but the outfits are so restrictive in comparison. 

“Do you mind if I ask where you got your outfit? Who designed it?” 

She turns to you in surprise. “My outfit? Why?”

“I want one.” 

The request turns into her admitting that she makes the outfits with her wives but she’s willing to ask them if they’d help make you one. Providing you pay, of course. 

“Of course,” you agree. 

Meeting up again is easy, as well as providing the measurements and down payment you give. If you’re honest, you haven’t had a lot of luck since arriving, but your history in retail gives you a great customer service voice and the patience required not to snap at belligerent clients. It gets you a job as a server which pays decently enough that you can afford it.

The longer you talk, the more you’re amused at the woman. She’s a bit brash and unwilling to deal with stupidity, but she’s also a huge dork. It’s hilarious. 

The two of you often find yourself sitting on a hill in the area, enjoying the view. Makio likes to talk about her family. It’s nice, letting yourself pretend that everything’s okay. You’re used to the time period now, but you haven’t really let yourself make any friends, assuming you’ll get back. It’s been a year though and prior to meeting Makio, you didn’t really spend any time with anyone. 

She’s not around a lot, her work taking her away from the area often, but she promises to come back with the outfit the next time you see each other. 

The second one you meet is Hinatsuru. 

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Hinatsuru says with a smile. “Makio has been talking about you often. We hope you like the outfit.” She offers the bundle she’s holding. 

“Thank you,” you smile at her. It’s cute watching her blush. 

“Try it on,” Makio orders. You raise your eyebrows at her until she offers a please. “We want to make sure it fits.”

“Sure,” you say. “Mind waiting?”

“Not at all,” Hinatsuru says. 

You invite them into your home, the small apartment-style area that you rent. It takes most of your wages but the woman who acts as your landlord is nice enough and you don’t have to worry about people breaking in. Makio looks unimpressed at the space but she doesn’t say anything once Hinatsuru nudges her. You don’t care. You’ve lived in better but you’ve also lived in worse. You’ll take what you can get. 

You change quickly and the weight of the outfit is strange after so long in standard kimonos and yukatas, but it’s nice. You feel like you can move again. You come out, unashamed in the sudden change of the amount of skin you’re showing. It’s freeing. 

The women waiting for you look surprised as you grin at them.

“Well? What do you think?” The dress is a cobalt blue with a black obi around your waist. There are slits up the sides with a short skirt that ends above your knees. 

“You look great!” Makio says. “Not as good as us though,” she adds, teasingly. You roll your eyes, used to her antics. 

“It suits you,” Hinatsuru says softly, her gaze darting between the two of you. 

“Thank you!” You grin at her before moving to grab the rest of the payment that you owe them. “Here. Do you think I’d be able to order more?”

“Are you sure?” Hinatsuru asks. “It is…revealing for the average citizen. We don’t want you to get any trouble.”

“Don’t worry,” you assure, thinking of your origins. “I’m anything but average.” 

You meet Suma next. She follows the other two, bouncing slightly before darting past them to greet you. 

“It’s you! I finally get to meet you!” 

You blink in surprise at the enthusiasm as she clasps your hands in hers. She grins widely. “Makio’s been keeping you a secret.”

“No, I haven’t!” Makio yells, reaching to drag Suma back away from you. You try not to smile as they argue, or more so, as Makio argues and Suma reacts dramatically. Hinatsuru sighs but looks at them fondly before she heads towards you. 

“We’re so glad to see you again,” she says. 

“Me too,” you agree. “I missed your company.” 

She smiles at you, gaze softening slightly before the two of you are overrun by Makio and Suma, both demanding your attention. 

The longer you spend with these women, the more you understand how well they fit. They balance each other perfectly in a lot of ways and despite the way they like to argue, you can tell that they care about each other deeply. It’s sweet and a little heartbreaking. Not that you’re in love with any of them, but it’s a reminder of what you don’t have. You doubt that anyone here would want to marry you, especially since you don’t have relatable experiences. It’s fine. You can deal with it until you decide to shove the truth about yourself down so deep that no one will ever dig it out. 

You still spend the most time with Makio. Mainly out of habit more than anything. You think she might be your best friend but you’re not entirely sure you want to tell her that. It feels like there’s something waiting for you on the horizon and you’re not sure if it's impending doom or something great. Probably doom, knowing your luck. Maybe you’ll just wake up back home. 

“Are you okay?” Suma asks. The four of you are huddled in your small living area, snacks and tea laid out between you. 

“We should have just taken you home,” Makio grumbles. You know she’s just uncomfortable in the enclosed space but you like it. You feel safer knowing there are not a lot of areas for someone to hide in. 

“I’m fine,” you assure them. “Just a little homesick.” You catch the look they all give each other and wait, knowing there’s some question they want to ask. Can they read you as easily as you seem to be able to read them? 

“Oh,” Hinatsuru says softly. “Can you not go visit?” 

You give her a small smile. “No. There’s…there’s no way,” you pause and correct yourself. “There’s no one left.” 

Suma looks like she’s going to cry again and you wave her off. “It’s fine. I’m used to it now. Besides, it’s not like I don’t have friends, right? I have all of you now.” 

“Of course you have us!” Makio says, looking fierce in her outburst. “We’ll be your family, okay?”

You laugh slightly at the determination and that way Suma eagerly nods in agreement. “Thanks. I’d like that.” 

Things change after that. 

You’re not sure what it was, the reveal that you have no one else in this world or the fact that they’ve decided to be your family, but things change. They’re around more often, bringing small trinkets from their travels back to you that they insist improve your living space. They also touch you more. Not that they didn’t before, but it goes beyond the casual brush of skin as you sit next to each other or a hug goodbye. Hina, as she asks you to call her, enjoys playing with your hair of all things. Makio occasionally tries to feed you, offering bites from her own food or holding up a treat for you to try. Suma no longer has any concept of personal space, enjoying lounging herself across you and pressing her cold feet into your shins. 

It’s funny because you never considered yourself touch starved before but now? Now you think if they ever stop, you’ll miss it. Your life slowly adjusts to consist mainly of serving customers and the Uzui women. 

Makio, as every time before, is the first. This time to kiss you. 

You’re stunned as she pulls back and you can see the concern in her features that maybe she made a mistake. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought–” 

You stare at her for a moment before you grin at the expression on her face. “No,” you say, “I just…I’ve never kissed another woman before.”

“Did you not like it?” she asks. You know that if you tell her you didn’t, she’ll stop. Things will go back to the way they were. 

“It’s not that,” you admit. “You’re married.” 

She grins at you. “I know,” she agrees. “But all three of us have been talking about wanting more with you. We just weren’t sure what you want.” 

“Aren’t there four of you?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Lord Tengen knows,” she says. “He’s waiting.” 

For what? You want to ask but you don’t, because Makio moves forward again and you find yourself distracted by the feeling of her lips on yours. It’s different from the guys you’ve made out with. Not necessarily better or worse, just different. Turns out that Makio is a great kisser and you’re not as straight as you originally thought you were. Huh. Who knew?

Once that barrier is breached, the others are not long to follow. You feel a bit guilty to be making out with each of these women knowing that there’s a husband somewhere waiting for them, but this isn’t the first polygamous relationship you’ve heard of, especially since ethical non-monogamy seemed to be everywhere in the online dating arena, so you know that communication is the most important thing in a healthy relationship. You also have no doubts, based on what you know of these women, that one of them has told their husband everything. You’re just wondering when he’s going to make himself known. 

Speak of the devil and he’ll appear. Isn’t that the saying? 

You meet Tengen by accident. Well, probably not by accident since Makio said he was waiting and it was bound to happen, but you didn’t expect it like this. 

You were in the market on your day off, wandering from stall to stall in one of the outfits that Makio, Hina and Suma made. They had worried about you finding yourself in trouble due to the cut of it. Instead, trouble found you. The strange man propositions you on the street. You shoot him down. It’s not the first time you’ve had to do so to such a request and it likely won't be the last. No big deal. You’re used to it. 

Until he touches you. 

The man grabs you by the wrist, stopping you from moving on. Unfortunately for him, you come from an era of women’s rights, self-defence and a love of action movies. You shove your fingers into his throat before anyone else can step in. He recoils, coughing loudly, and let's go. You straighten your outfit and prepare to move on only to stop as someone appears between you and the man. 

“Now that’s a flashy response!” 

The man in front of you is huge. You’ve seen a lot of men in your life but you’re beginning to wonder if any of them ever compared to this one. His arms look like the size of your head. Your mouth drops open as you register the jewels on his headband and the swords at his back. You’ve heard every description of the man possible but you have never expected him to look like…this. 

He glances over his shoulder and you have to actually move to peek around him to see the man who assaulted you being led off by some other. Tengen turns back to look at you and you watch as his gaze overtly looks over you. There is nothing subtle about this man. At least, not when he doesn’t want to be. 

“So you’re the one monopolizing my wives.” 

“Maybe,” you admit. There’s no reason to lie. “They’re good people.”

“They are,” he agrees. “They’ve spoken highly of you.”

“Not as much as they’ve said about you, I’m sure.”

He grins at that. “May I join you?”

“Knock yourself out,” you say, nodding. He looks slightly confused before he grins as he realizes you’re saying yes. 

Tengen is not as patient as his wives. 

Which is funny because you never considered any of them to be patient once you got to know them. Maybe Hina, but that’s only in comparison to the others. He’s also straightforward. You like that. 

“You’re not only attracted to women,” he points out once he catches you staring at him again. Honestly, you’re just amazed at how small you feel next to the man. That’s never happened before. 

“Nope,” you agree. “Though, to be fair, it might only be them. I don’t know. I’ve never considered it before.” 

He seems pleased at the compliment to his wives and doesn’t hide the way he appreciates you as well. He walks you home and before he leaves, he promises to return and kisses you hard. It’s easy to see how he’s kept the three of them if this is how he kisses. 

You don’t see them during the days that Tengen is around. You suspect that there’s more going on, but you’re willing to let it play out. Getting to know him is like adding another piece to a puzzle. It all starts to make sense and you can understand how the dynamics fit. The four of them are practically a well-oiled, well-loved, machine and while you’re not entirely sure what their purpose is for you, you’re going to enjoy it. After all, who knows if you’re really going to stay? Even if it’s been almost two years. 

Makio is not the first this time. 

It’s Hina who proposes, even though they’re all there. You sit there, surprised at the offer. You hadn’t expected this. Even when they said they’d be your family, all those ages ago, you didn’t think they meant literally. 

“I can’t,” you admit, wincing as you watch Makio’s expression fade into blankness and Suma starts to cry. 

“Why?” she wails, reaching out to you. 

You consider it. It’s not that you don’t want to. You love them, each and every one. How could you not? At least, you’re sure that you do. You haven’t exactly tested things out completely, always stopping before it led to full-out sex because you had been unsure of their marriage, but the desire was there. 

“I don’t know if I’m here to stay,” you try to explain. “For good.” 

“What do you mean?” Tengen asks. “Where would you go?”

“Back to the future?”

They stare at you for a moment, the words processing before Tengen leans back and laughs. 

“I knew it!” He says, looking at you with a grin. “I knew you were flashier than you let on! Your score is different from everyone else's!”

“My score?” You don’t remember telling any of them how many people you’ve slept with….

He explains…and so do you. 

Things finally start to make sense. They never really explained what they did, at least not in detail besides trying to ensure you stayed indoors at night. The truth of their occupation, and their history, is the final puzzle piece. The truth of you clears up the confusion of all the strange little things that you do that don’t really make sense…but are also the same things that drew them all in. You all agree to give it some time, to think about it. 

It takes a day before Tengen is back with advice. 

“Say yes,” he says, hand on the small of your back as he pulls you towards him. “Even if the worst should happen and you leave, shouldn’t we enjoy the time we have? Marry us.”

“Let me think about it,” you ask, kissing him softly. 

Suma is the next. 

“Please say yes,” she begs. “Please! We need you!” 

You smile in response. “Let me think about it,” you ask again before kissing her this time. She melts into it and you try not to let it sway you. 

Hina comes about a week later. 

“Please join us,” she asks, holding your hand in hers. “We miss you. Let us take care of you and you take care of us.” 

“I miss you too,” you admit. “All of you. But are you sure?”

She kisses you. “We are. Are you?”

Makio is last. Her arms are crossed as you come across her waiting for you outside your work. 

“You’re being stupid,” she says as soon as she sees you. 

“Nice to see you too.”

“Why are you doing this to us?”

“What? Making you wait?”

“Yes!” The brashness fades as she looks at you. “Don’t you want us?” 

You sigh. “Of course I do.”

“Then marry us!” 

“One more day,” you say. “Give me one more day, okay? I’ll come to you.” 

You’ve known your answer since Tengen spoke to you. He’s right. Why should you deny yourself the chance of enjoying your life here, even if it might not be forever? Really, what is? If they want you, they can have you. 

It’s not hard to find their home despite the fact that you’ve never been there. The place is beautiful and a little out of the way. It suits them though you wonder if they’d like chimes. Wooden chimes would suit the place but it might be a bother considering Tengen’s hearing. 

The door opens before you even get to it and Suma comes running, nearly tackling you on the path. 

“You came!” 

You laugh as you hold her, miraculously steadying the both of you. It doesn’t last long as soon as Makio joins in. The three of you end up sprawled on the path and your face is covered in kisses despite the fact you still haven’t given an answer. You don’t mind. You know your answer and kiss them both back. 

“Alright,” you hear Tengen say. “Get up, you three.” Hina giggles as you all try to untangle yourselves. It takes a couple of tries before Tengen eventually steps in and lifts Suma off of you, listening to her protest. Makio stands up next and offers you her hand. 

You hold it, reaching out for Hina’s before you follow Tengen inside, trying not to laugh at Suma’s expression as she’s carried over his shoulder. 

You say yes. Tengen looks like he knew you would and the women are ecstatic. So are you. You’ve never felt as loved or as wanted as you do at that moment, as they all celebrate the fact that you’re joining them and going to become one of their wives. Even if you disappeared in this moment, you’d remember it forever. 

Luckily, that doesn’t happen. 

What does happen is that someone opens some sake and the night ends with you on your back and someone’s face between your legs. They know you’re inexperienced but the four of them aren’t. It’s not hard to listen to their cues, let them guide you and relish in the way you can help make them break. 

You learn new ways to use your tongue, the sweet spots that make each of them clutch you tighter and beg, and you learn how many times you’re capable of orgasming. It’s way more than you ever expected and you might have blacked out at some point. You come to curled up next to Suma while Hina’s head rests on your stomach. You’re all covered in sweat and the room stinks of sex. You can hear them though. The soft praises of Tengen and the way Makio cries out. 

“You did this,” he tells her. “You completed us.” 

“Thank you,” she cries out, clutching at his arm as he thrusts up into her. “For letting me–” She’s facing the rest of you. Both of them are and you catch Tengen’s eyes as he realizes you’re awake. 

“My beautiful wives,” he says, kissing her neck. “You’re so good to me. So good to all of us. How could I resist?” 

Suma shifts closer, throwing an arm around you as she buries her face against your skin. Indeed, you think, closing your eyes and drifting back to sleep even with the sounds of them fucking. How could you resist?

taglist: @raith-way  @chrissymunson @veetlegeuse  @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse 

[hobiebrownismygod]

Can you do a 42 Miles fanfic where we style and/or braid his hair but he’s pretty tender headed (even tho he tries to act tough)?

I have no idea how to braid his hair type so I did some research for it! pls let me know if anything is inaccurate and I hope you enjoy this little fic! As always, thx for requesting <3

Possible TW: reader is referred to as "Mami" (femreader), mention of Rio, kissing on the cheek (romantic tw), unedited (pls lmk if theres any errors/inconsistencies so I can fix them)

⋆｡°✩

"Hold still!" You exclaimed, pulling his head back as he let out a yelp. "You're braiding too tight!" he hissed, closing his eyes shut and groaning.

"Hey, I'm trying my best!" you exclaimed with a frown, loosening your grasp on his hair lightly in an attempt to be gentler. "They have to be tight or else they'll get lumpy."

He grumbled, sitting up straight and gripping onto the chair tightly to mask how much pain he was in.

This wasn't the first time you were braiding your boyfriend's hair, but you were starting to hope it would be the last. He was so tender-headed, you couldn't even touch his head without him letting out a yelp. How had his mom been dealing with him all these years?

But then of course, Rio had more patience than you'd ever seen in a mother so you weren't too surprised.

He grunted in frustration, squeezing his eyes shut as you finished one of his cornrows, tying a rubber band to the end as gently as you could. "Miles..." you said, putting your arms around his neck from the back. "Do you want to take a break? Let your scalp breathe?" you asked a little teasingly.

"No! I'm fine." He said annoyedly, folding his arms over his chest as he avoided your eyes in the mirror. You kissed his cheek gently, a smile on your face. "Are you sure? The second one might hurt more."

His eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean it'll hurt more?"

"If I don't finish soon, I'm gonna be late to get home! You know how my parents are about curfew" you said, rolling your eyes and gathering up the rest of his hair to start on the second cornrow.

"Wait, wait, wait-" he said quickly, standing up. "Just uh- just give me a second. Let me breathe."

You put your hands on your hips, watching him with a smile. "Does it really hurt that bad? Have you ever tried using numbing cream, or-"

"I don't need numbing cream! I'm not a little kid, Mami." he said with a frown, sitting back down tenderly. "Alright, just do it. I'm ready"

You glanced down at his knuckles, which were turning pale as he gripped onto the arm of the chair. The two of you stayed still for a moment.

After a second, he opened his eyes to look at you in the mirror. "You gonna do it, or...?"

"Miles, you're gonna hurt yourself if you hold on too tight." you said with a sigh. "This isn't a roller coaster."

He grumbled, folding his arms in his lap as he waited for you to start, his eyes closed shut. "Just braid it."

You raised an eyebrow at him. His breath hitched in his throat.

"Please?"

You rolled your eyes again, beginning his second braid. "That's what I thought."

He stayed silent for a moment, letting out a quiet hiss of pain as you slowly moved your way down his scalp. "Thanks for doing this by the way." He said softly. "Means a lot to me." His voice was so quiet it was almost like a whisper.

"Always." you said back, your fingers moving as gently as they could, satisfied with his gratitude. "I'm really trying to be gentle man, you're just tender-headed."

"I know, I know. Thanks." It only took a few minutes for you to be done and he immediately leapt up, touching his head gently and looking in the mirror. "Looks good."

He turned around, a grin on his face before sweeping you up in a hug, arms wrapped around your waist. "I love youuu" he teased, kissing your cheek, back in a good mood now that the pain was over.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." you said with a laugh, pushing his face back gently. "I love you too, Miles."

⋆｡°✩

He's a silly little guy

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[thelurchinghound]

hiii i dunno if id be first request or if u even take them im so sorry if u dont !!! but i was wondering maybe something yandere non con smut? x human male reader !! kink wise maybe somnophilia, knife play, blood? thank u for reading this, have a nice day/night <33

[Request info] - [Navigation] - [Elias' Pinterest]

Gender: Male reader

Kinks/Warning(s): Non-con, somnophilia, knifeplay, blood, drugging.

A/N: Grrrr I love somnophilia. Didn't know if you wanted a monster yandere so I just made it with my yandere slasher oc who has monster traits but its not really mentioned in this fic. This is a really old request that I got 70% done but then forgot about it.

Oc(s) used: Elias (Killer/Slasher) | Words: 701 | Proofread? No | NSFW |

By hitting 'keep reading' you are accepting that you're 18+ and are fine with reading dark/sensitive content (Don't like? Don't read.)

Elias had been observing you for a while now. He was always watching but never acting on his impulses, and fuck did he have a lot of them. How badly Elias desires to see you gagging on his cock, your tears staining your cheeks, his name carved into your thigh. He had even gifted you a stuffed plush of your favorite animal, a camera in its eye to watch over you. 

He had kept his patience for so long, but then you took that fucking stupid punk home. It drove him up the wall. Literally, Elias climbed up your house and into your room through your window. How stupid were you, doll, to leave your window unlocked? Oh well, it just makes it more uncomplicated for him. It was almost like you wanted this. You took that spiked drink without any thought. He thinks to himself.

Elias quietly slinks through your room, mindful not to knock anything over. His cock was already bulging in his pants, just as enthusiastic as he was. Stalking up to you with a broad grin, his gloved hand skimming your cheek. "Hey there, doll." He whispers to you, his slender body shifting to straddle your own. Fuck, he wanted to tear off all your clothes right then and there but no. He had to be patient. "You're so fucking stunning when you sleep," Elias mutters softly, his gloved hands gingerly working down your unconscious form. Black gooey tendrils slither from under his shirt, reaching out towards you. "I'm going to have so much fun with you."

He used his knife to cut through your shirt to expose your bare chest. The blade cuts your skin a little. Elias trails his lips down from the nape of your neck to the hem of your pants, lapping at any driblets of blood that well up from the thin cuts. His hot tongue rubs up against your perky nipple, his tongue piercing a stark difference to it. He could feel his cock getting more erect at the thought of you under him now. So pure, so innocent, unknowing of what was happening to you. 

Elias wastes no time pulling down your pants. I've waited long enough. He thinks to himself, his hands trembling while pulling down your underwear. Those tendrils of his wrapping around your legs, spreading them out for him. God, you look so beautiful. 

He takes his time prepping you. The killer wasn't that stupid. It's not like he wanted to hurt you too much. He just wanted to make you his own. His gloved hands ran over your body once he got done prepping you, wiping off the lube he used on his pants. Elias fumbled around his pants pocket to grab a condom he had brought. 

He unzips his jeans, pulls his cock out, and slips the protection on him. Once he gets himself situated, he starts to push into your tight ass. Soft groans leave him with each inch he forces into you. "Fuck, there we go. Just let me in, doll."

The black drooping tendrils slither up your thighs more, tightening around like snake coils. The tendrils hold your legs up higher for Elias as he starts thrusting harshly in you. Soft grumbles leave the killer. Elias was finally getting his prize. He had killed so much competition to get here. Many other guys think they could steal you away from him. No. You were his from the start, from the second his eyes laid on you.

His thrust starts to get harder and deeper, balls slapping against you with each movement he makes. Gloved hands gripping your hips, squeezing the supple skin there, the grip would surely leave bruises afterward. Elias starts to get sloppy, leaving small kisses along your neck and collarbone. But just marking you with his mouth wasn't enough. He wanted something more permanent. 

After finally finishing inside you, filling up the condom with his cum he grabs his knife. His tendrils helped move you around so he could carve his name into your flesh. The cold metal of the blade slices your skin in harsh swipes. "Don't worry, baby. I won't let anyone else harm you. Only me."

[tkwrites]

Private Lessons - Quinn Hughes x Sarah (ofc)

Photo from Pinterest

Title: Private Lessons

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah (OFC) 

Warnings: None? If I should add any, please let me know. 

Summary: As requested by @eyesthatroll, Quinn teaches Sarah to skate.

Word Count: 3,300

Comments: After taking a bit of a breather, I’m back with a requested fic. 2 months after you requested it, your wish is my command, Mari. I hope you enjoy it!

This was an interesting exercise for me to write something requested by someone else that wasn’t necessarily my own idea. I wrestled with it and got in my head a lot about it, but ultimately, I like the result I finally came to. 

Thanks for your patience and support. Please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see in their universe! I can’t guarantee I’ll write it, but I love the inspiration and challenge these requests bring! 

eyesthatroll asked: tory!! i absolutely adore your writing 🥹 maybe if it’s in your wheelhouse, you could write quinn teaching sarah to skate (or them going skating together) for the first time. i think that would be very adorable 😭 it’s totally fine if that’s not in the cards for the series though, don’t feel pressured! love ya! 🫶🏽

Private Lessons

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

At the end of every season we have a family skate. It's on the 15th. I'd like to bring you if you can come. 

Sarah knew this was a bigger deal than his crafted to be casual text was letting on. If it really was casual, he would have mentioned it before he left for the three game road trip.

She also knew dating a hockey player meant she would have to face her fear and past failure eventually. Even if a team event wasn't involved, it was such a big part of Quinns life. She wouldn't be able to avoid it forever. 

Does everyone skate? 

Usually yeah. Not all of the partners do, but most. 

I've never skated before. 

Really? 

Desert flower, remember? she sent with a picture of a blooming cactus. 

He laughed. There are lots of different skill levels there. People bring their kids and stuff.

Meaning what? That I'll be the only adult with training wheels? 

No wheels ;) 

She sent a gif of someone rolling their eyes. I'd love to go with you, but I really don't want to be the only one who doesn't know what they're doing. Could I persuade you to give me some private lessons? 

I guess that depends on what you’re willing to give me. ;) 

I mean, there’s not much I wouldn’t give you. What do you want? 

A long pause passed in their conversation. When she finally read his response on her way home, her cheeks pinked so much, she had to put her phone in her bag for fear of giving herself away on the train. 

That’s how they ended up at a mostly empty training rink the Wednesday night after he got home. 

She found him waiting for her in the lobby, surrounded by a swarm of kids all jockeying for his attention. It looked like a whole little league team was getting out of practice or a game right as he arrived. They were so excited, acting as if he came in just to see them. 

Sarah waited off to the side, watching him sign autographs and give advice, and talk to each of them. She was tired and hungry, but seeing Quinn in this element gave her a new side of him to admire. He was patient and kind, and invested. She remembered him telling her how he always liked to talk to kids because he remembered how much it meant to him when his favorite players were willing to stop and talk. Seeing that quite literally come full circle was a gift she hadn’t expected to see.  

When he finally looked up and met her gaze, he flashed her a grin and mouthed, thank you. 

Smiling in return, she nodded to an empty room off to the side before settling in with her laptop to work on her publication. 

A big sigh announced his presence a while later, as Quinn slid down the wall to sit next to her on the floor. “Sorry about that,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“It’s fine. I always have stuff to work on, and seeing you with the kids is sweet.” 

“Winning me some brownie points?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Like you even need them.”

Sarah closed her laptop and turned her head so they could finally say hello properly. 

He pulled her close to deepen the kiss. Even though he'd gotten back in town after midnight the night before, they hadn’t seen each other until now. He'd debated going to the aquarium after practice, but remembered they wouldn't let him back without a pass the last time he’d tried. Besides, he didn’t want to interrupt her work so close to finals. 

The urge to climb into his lap was so strong, Sarah had to pull back from the kiss before she made a public spectacle of herself. 

“I missed you,” he said, trailing a finger from her cheekbone to her jaw. It felt like the road trip was finally over now that she was back in his arms.

“I missed you, too.” 

“I have to confess something,” Sarah blurted, nerves eating her from the inside out as he showed her how to tie her skates.

Quinn looked up from pulling her laces tight.

“I’ve been skating before.” 

One of his eyebrows cocked up, “you have, have you?” 

“It was terrible. It was on a first date with this guy when I was a freshman, and I’m pretty certain the only reason he suggested it was so he could get his hands on me.” 

Quinn wrapped his hand around her calf and joked, “I guess it’s a good thing I’ve already had my hands on you, then.” 

“You’re not mad?” she said, surprised.

“About what? That I’m not popping your ice skating cherry?” 

Laughter barked out of her mouth before she explained, “no, that I lied. I mean, I didn’t really lie. We went on ice, on skates, but no real skating was involved.”

“Now I feel like you’re lying,” his voice was teasing. 

“After half a wobbly, too touchy lap, I fell and broke my wrist.” 

The bemused smile dropped off his lips, “oh my god, Sarah, why didn’t you tell me before?” 

Her bottom jaw moved as she worried the inside of her lower lip. “I didn't know when it would come up.” she said. “I mean, if anyone can teach me to skate, you can. But that's why I wanted it to be just us first.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve broken lots of bones skating,” he said, stroking her leg. 

She smiled tightly. “I bet none of those were from you falling down.” 

“I don’t know, maybe? You’d have to ask my mom, but I fell plenty when I was learning, that’s really normal.” 

“It just feels like one of those things that I'll never live down, you know?”

“Well, you and I are the only ones that know now.” 

“Yeah and Josh Jackson and all those people at the Reno rec rink.” 

“You keep in touch with everyone who was there that night?” he joked, hoping she would see how ridiculous her worry was. 

A hand flew up to cover her face as she blushed. “I guess it just lives in my head every time I think about ice skating.” 

“I know the feeling, but it was one time seven years ago, right? And you’ve got a better teacher, now.” 

She dropped her hands so she could meet his gaze, giving him a hopeful smile. 

He changed the subject. “Are these too tight? Can you move your toes?”

“Yeah. I mean, no they're not too tight.”

He smiled, stood and held out a hand, “come on. I can't promise you won't fall, but I'll do my best.” 

As they walked through the tunnel to the rink, she said, “This is the weirdest feeling.”

“It can't be worse than wearing heels.”

“Have you ever worn heels?”

“Well, no,” he admitted. 

“Then you can't say a damn thing about it. At least in heels, the ball of your foot is on the ground. With this, it's like my feet are suddenly half an inch wide.”

“You're thinking too much.”

“What am I supposed to do, not think?”

“Don't think so much,” he said, stopping at the boards and turning around. “Okay, I'm going to get on and help you on, okay?”

She nodded. 

He bit back his smile at the determination on her face. “It's slippery, so be prepared.”

“Gee, thanks, Hughes,” she said, flatly. “I had no idea ice is slippery.”

He laughed. She’d never called him by his last name. Of course it would come out when she was nervous. 

“I'll have you the whole time. I won't let you go until you tell me to,” he promised, reaching to help her through. 

She stepped on and immediately over corrected, jerking back. 

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against him to keep them upright. “Calm down,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “I know it's a weird feeling.” 

In all actuality, he didn't know. He'd been skating so long it sometimes felt easier than walking.

 “Just hold on and let me pull you.” 

Skating backwards, he took her on a lap. Her fingers were hooked around his elbows, so he was forced to awkwardly hold the backs of her arms.

“Can you relax? I’ve got you.” 

She glanced down and felt her legs wobble. Visions of the ice rushing up to kiss her on the temple made her dizzy. 

“Look at me,” he said in a voice that couldn’t be ignored. 

Sarah met his eyes. The dim lights over the rink made them a sort of muddy green she’d never seen before. 

“If you keep looking down, you’re going to fall,” he said. “You go toward what you look at.” 

“I just want to make sure my feet are right.”

“Do you have to watch your feet when you’re walking?” 

“Well, no, but this is new.” 

“Sure, but once you get over the fact that you’re on the ice and used to your skates, it’ll start to feel more natural.”

“Yeah, I’ll just get over that.” 

He shook his head, and moved on. “Okay, start picking your feet up like you’re walking.” 

“Like I’m walking?” she repeated. “That seems really counterintuitive.” 

“It’s not that different from walking, you're just gliding instead.”

She leveled him with a deadpan, sarcastic look.

She was about to ask him how she was supposed to walk when she couldn’t lift her heel or push off with the ball of her foot, when she realized arguing his syntax wasn't going to get her anywhere. This was a case where she had to swallow her pride and ask for what she needed. 

“Can you break it down, like the physics of it, for me?” she asked. “It helps me to see all the steps before I do something.”

As he talked her through the mechanics of skating forward, she held onto his arm. She had so many questions he’d never considered, like how he used his edges to push off. 

Skating was so automatic on his part, he didn’t even have to think about it. He’d never had to break down what he was doing like this. 

Seeing how his legs worked up close and in slower motion helped her envision doing the same things herself. 

“Okay, come back here.” 

He moved in front of her again. 

“You make that look so easy,” she said, a bit of a whine in her voice. 

“Sarah,” he said, swallowing the bite in his tone, “I've been doing this for twenty years. I do this for a living. I'd hope I make It look easy. I couldn't take over writing one of your papers, or come into the aquarium and start taking care of Walter.”

“Yeah,” she said, resigned. 

“I know it's frustrating that you can't pick this up right away, but no one can. You can’t read your way into skating well.”

That touched a nerve and she glared at him. 

He let go of one of her hands so he could hold his up in surrender. “All I mean is that you just have to physically get used to it. How long did it take you to perfect your golf swing?” 

“That’s different.” 

“How is that different?” 

“I started that as a kid.”

“So? You can learn things now. You learn new things all the time.” 

“Yeah. It just feels so daunting. I really don’t want to look like an idiot in front of all your teammates.”

“No one will care. They’re just excited to meet you. We can come back every night I’m in town if you want. Or you can just not skate.” 

That caused distress to fly over her face. “No. I can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” He glanced behind him out of habit, even though there was no one else on the ice. It was a clean sheet too, freshly zambonied after the pee-wee hockey game that ended right before they arrived. Perfect learning conditions. 

Sarah recentered herself by pulling a breath down her spine, “this is such a big part of your life. I want to be able to participate.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, a half smile lifting the right side of his mouth. 

“Yeah, and like you said, I have a better teacher now.” 

“Tell me about your day,” he said.  

“Okay,” she answered, dubious of his intentions. 

“It’ll help you to stop thinking about what your body’s doing. I think you’ll find it will sort itself out if you let it.” 

He could tell she didn’t really believe him, but went ahead anyway, telling him about the little boy at the aquarium that afternoon who had insisted he’d caught an octopus as big as Walter and thrown it back the last time he and his mom had gone fishing. 

“I mean, maybe he did,” she said, shrugging. “But his teacher gave me this look like, ‘don’t believe a single word he says’. I felt bad, She just looked so tired of him.” 

Quinn laughed and decided not to point out that she was skating perfectly naturally now that she was out of her head about it. “What happened in class?” 

“Well, even if I get a C on my comparative physiology final, I’ll still pass the class.” 

“That’s huge, Sarah,” he said. 

“Yeah, it's such a relief, but then, Paul dropped that he's adding a test on top of our publication. Thankfully it’s not a huge part of my grade, but still, more on the pile. He’s calling it a review, but that just means it’ll cover everything we’ve studied this term.” 

“That doesn’t seem fair for him to add that at the last second.” 

“Well, he can do what he wants, so,” she shrugged. “He said he thinks we need it. I think he's just being a controlling jackass.” 

“Can't you report him or something?”

“For what?”

“For changing the syllabus so late.”

“Well, he's the head of the program, so I can't complain to him, plus if I went to the dean, I'm pretty certain she'd tell me ‘this is graduate school, and you should grow up.’” 

Quinn winced. 

“Yeah. He's just a dick because he can be. He’s the lord over this little kingdom and he wants us all to know it.” 

She shook her head, “I’m sorry, we can be done talking about him.”

“You can keep complaining if you want.”

“No, it's okay. It just makes me more mad, which makes me not want to study, which only shoots me in the foot.” 

“Okay,” Quinn said, “I think you’re ready for me to be next to you.”

“What?” 

“Yeah, you’ve been skating fine for the last five minutes.” 

She looked down as if to confirm, “I have?” 

“It’s not like you were standing still.” 

“But you’ve been pulling me.” 

“I was, but I’ve mostly just been holding your hand, keeping distance. You've been moving yourself forward.”

“Really?” Shaking her head, Sarah laughed a little to herself, “you really are a better teacher.”

He gave her a wink and spun to stand next to her. 

“Keep talking,” he encouraged. 

“About what?” 

She didn’t know what to look at now. There were empty stands, and scratched glass, and the whole smooth sheet of ice, lines etching a curving lacey pattern around the perimeter. 

“Whatever you want.”

“I don't -” glancing down, she remembered his advice and jerked up. The sudden movement caused her to promptly fall on her rear with a frustrated grunt.

Her hands fell to her sides in a gesture that said, why is this so hard for me? 

“You're doing great.”

“I just fell down.”

“So? I fall all the time. You just need to learn to get back up.”

He did fall, and she was always so impressed with his ability to just pop back up and continue playing as if nothing happened. 

He coached her back onto her feet, and they continued around the rink as he told her about the road trip he’d just come home from. Only five days away, but the comeback overtime loss and two wins made it a huge confidence builder. 

He admitted that though some of the strain was lessened for the next month with their guaranteed spot in the finals, he still felt so much pressure to perform. 

“There was this moment on Friday, though, where we were just gelling, you know, and it felt like ‘we deserve this now.’” 

“Of course you deserve it. You work your ass off for that team, Quinn.” 

Throwing her a thankful smile, he said, “I mean we all do it together.”

“And you’re a big reason everyone is buying in.” 

“Look at you, learning hockey talk.” 

“That is something I can read my way into.” she joked. “Plus your mom explained a bunch of the idioms to me.” 

He laughed. 

She fell twice more, but got up each time. The last time, she even managed to do it without his help. 

“You’re doing great,” he praised, moving in front of her again, “you’ll be a natural in no time.” 

Pulling herself to him with their clasped hands she winked, “it's because I have the best teacher.” 

She was close enough now that he would just have to lean in to kiss her. He did, because he could. They were apart so much, it only made sense to take advantage when they were together. 

Whenever people kissed on ice rinks in movies, Sarah was always struck with what a dumb idea it was. It seemed incredibly stupid to not pay attention to what you were doing on such a volatile surface. 

In reality, when Quinn kissed her, she melted. It felt so romantic. Cold, but cozy with his warm body pressed against hers, and the confidence in knowing he wouldn’t let her fall. The only sound was the pleasant scrape of their skates on the ice. 

Suddenly, everything she’d stopped herself from saying over the past few weeks came bubbling up into her mouth. 

Just the night before, she’d felt on the cusp of saying something other than “I miss you,” at the end of their goodnight phone call. She had bit it back, not wanting that first time to happen over the phone. She felt like the moment had to be perfect. 

Fuck that, she thought, now. She didn’t want to hold it in anymore. Plus, wasn’t this moment perfect enough? 

Pulling away, she waited for him to open his eyes.

After a moment or two, Quinn realized she wasn’t teasing, and met her gaze, “what’s wrong?” 

“Nothings wrong.” 

Suddenly, it felt too formal. They weren’t in the Elizabethan era where one declared their feelings in some kind of a grand speech, but she couldn’t not say it. It felt too disingenuous to keep holding it in. 

“I just…” she brushed her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck as she ran over a few possibilities in her mind rapid fire, dismissing them all for being too much. Honesty, it seemed, was proving to be the best policy. “I just really love you.”

Quinn could feel his eyes crinkling closed as his face melted into a goofy smile, one reserved only for family and people close to him.  

It felt like something broke open in his chest, finally set free. “I love you too.”

Sarah giggled and it came out a little watery. She never expected to cry when she told him, but her body always did like to cry over big emotions. 

Quinn wiped her tears away with his thumbs before tilting her face up to his. 

This kiss was softer, not as hurried. Desire giving way to something deeper – less fickle, and more settled. 

As they walked back to the locker room, Quinn realized, suddenly, that he'd left something unsaid. He tugged on her hand, and she turned. 

“I’m really proud of you,” he said. “I know you were really nervous.”

She leaned up to kiss him. “Thank you for being a very patient teacher.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[a-random-weeb]

Hii can I request chuuya with a fem s/o who tried escaping from him but got into a car accident and got memory loss?

i assume you meant Yandere Chuuya so...

I know the so hospital thing isn't exactly how that works, they don't just release you immediately... But it was convenient towards this fic so....

Actually, nothing in this fic is canon irl (yes, I need to touch grass), but it's the magical world of ✨Chuuya✨ anyway

Warnings: blood, dead bodies, mentions of kidnapping, Yandere themes and anything else that comes in a Yandere fic.

Disclaimer: as great as yandere is in fanfiction it's important to remember this stuff is not romantic irl (unless it's Chuuya irl then he can do whatever he wants to me)

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

"Who are you?" You tilt your head like a confused child at the short, red head before you.

"Y-you don't remember me?" His eyes widden in shock as he looks down at you lying in the hospital bed.

"um- well- look look familiar, I guess...? Sorry.." you stutter an apology. Chuuya sighs, figuring this might a perfect opportunity.

"You got hit by a car and have a amnesia! I'm your boyfriend, remember?" He pretends to be worried, but the excitement you could believe his lie is too good.

"My boyfriend...? How long have I known you?"

"A few years," he shrugs, pecking your lips. "You'll be realised from the hospital tomorrow, then we can go home!"

"But... I know where I live, if you're insinuating I live with you."

"You only recently moved in, I don't expect you to remember." He begins to lose his patience. You simply nod,

"Ok..." You give in, an eerie feeling nagging at you.

The next day, things go pretty smoothly. Chuuya takes you to his penthouse, where you realise a bunch of your stuff is there. Maybe you really did live with him... You explore his large penthouse, finding the place to be incredibly familiar, yet... You had an uncanny feeling in your gut, telling you to run, to get as far away as possible, and you wondered why. You're thoughts are interrupted as Chuuya hugs your waist from behind,

"Hey princess..." he kisses your neck. you giggle, finding yourself to actually be attracted to him.

"Oh! Speaking of which, where did I work? How much rent do I pay?" You ask, trying to rack your brain for where you could've worked to possibly help him afford such a nice place.

"You were a stay-at-home girlfriend."

"I can't imagine myself being a stay-at-home girlfriend..."

"You didn't cook or clean, I did, and will continue to do so."

"What?" You tilt your head in confusion, "What did I do then?"

"Be pretty." Chuuya shrugs. Your eyebrows furrow, completely dumbfounded.

"There's gotta be something I can do!" The short chihuahua (I'm not sorry) shakes his head, going back to kissing your neck. You squirm a little in his embrace. There's that gut feeling again, screaming at you to run.

You can barely remember your mom or dad, let alone your family. Every time you try to ask Chuuya, he dodges the question. You could vaguely remember where you lived before, but you don't remember the address or even the house number! You could barely remember anything, your so-called 'boyfriend', your family, some words, or even a lot of stuff about yourself! You desperately try to get information from Chuuya, but he won't do anything but beat around the bush. Eventually, you give up. You were bound to find out eventually... Right...?

As you look around the slightly familiar penthouse, you find a locked room, and there's a weird stench emitting from said area. The key to the room sits in the keyhole, almost begging to be opened.

"You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat..." You try to convince yourself it's a horrible idea. But then again, you live here... Shouldn't you know? The curiousity overwhelms you. With a slight turn if the key, you crack open the door, careful to be as quiet as possible. You close it softly behind you as to not alert Chuuya you could be in here, incase he doesn't want you around the room. Your eyes widden in horror and shock as you flip on the lights only to find the room covered in blood, bodies you recognise to be your mom and dad, and other familiar bodies you assume to be your family and friends are scattered throughout the room. All of them look recently beaten to death. Salty tears stream down your face, as you begin to gag at the sight. You swallow your puke, hoping to leave no evidence you were in here, after all, if he doesn't know you were in here then you can escape. You turn to exit the room, only to find Chuuya waiting on the other side of the door with a maniacal look.

"I was hoping to dispose of their bodies before you could discover them, but I guess it's too late." He sighs. You back away into the room, tripping on a body. You're left covered in blood as he approaches you. Fear engulfs your mind as you look for any other means of escape. Scurrying to your feet, you try to run out the door, only to have your body pressed to his.

"How cute, you're all panicked and covered in blood. Unfortunately I can't let you leave... I love you... I need you... You're mine..."

[chelleztjs18]

Biggest Fans (E.O)

Fem!Writer!Reader x Elizabeth Olsen

Summary: It was a casual lunch day out for you and Lizzie until the unexpected thing happens.

Warning: None. I'm just feeding you with fluff story. :D

A/n: Hello! It's me with another fluff fic! Thank you for your patience. I'm trying my best to write more and give you more contents. Also, this might be the last time I will post with the taglist. I'm planning on making a library side blog. I will update you once It's ready. Anyways, happy reading!

P.S: The italic prints means texting convo in this fic. The bold print means their thoughts.

Main Masterlist

“Hello. I really love your writing.” was how it all started. A friendly message you got but you never knew that it will lead to something unexplainable with such all good feelings you can’t describe. A message that led to other more messages between you and this girl. Before you know it, you talk to her 24/7 for almost a year. Flirtatious messages with various sweet pet names exchanges happen a lot between you two. Is it a friendship? It sure did start from that point. Is it more than that? You don’t know. All you know, you can’t hold back a smile every time you get a message from her through your writing blog apps. You always wait for her messages. The second you wake up, you will go to the apps to text her good morning and sometimes you would find that she beat you and left the morning text before you.

Liz, that’s her name. As much as you want to see her pictures or hear her voice through a phone call, you respect her request to wait until she feels comfortable to do so. You both agreed to not talk or ask anything personal just yet. Despite all that, both of you never run out of things to talk about which is what you love about her.

You hear your text notification from your phone and your heartbeat doubling in speed instantly. You knew who it was and as usual, you are smiling reading anything she texts you.

_____

*Ding* Lizzie's phone informs her another message replies. She laughs a little and then smiles the whole time while she's typing her turn in the conversation.

Scarlet sees it from the corner of her eyes while she is checking out the restaurant's menu but she can't help herself to ask, "Is that from your writer girlfriend?” She teases Lizzie.

“Huh? What? No, she’s not my girlfriend.” The younger actress realizes Scar’s teasing question and denies it instantly. A blush shows up on her cheek obviously.

“Well, you both have been talking all this time. You have been all smiling every time you text with her. Wait, how long have you been talking with each other?”

“Well, you told me about this whole fanfiction writing blog stuff like around june last year i think?” The brunette answers.

“That’s almost a year! Wow and she still doesn’t know who you are? Or at least your voice? Does she know that you are from Los Angeles? She seems pretty patient about that."

"Uh yes. I gotta admit, she has been understanding about it very much. Sometimes I feel that it's unfair to her because I have heard her voice on the voice notes she left me. She sounds really cute. And, yes. She knows that I'm from here just like her." Lizzie expresses her thoughts and doesn't realize that another smile curves on her face.

"Aww. That's cute! You like her, don't you?" The blonde actress asks as she wiggles her eyebrows teasing her best friend once more.

Lizzie laughs and covers her face in embarrassment. "Who wouldn't like a nice sweet funny girl that you can talk to about everything 24/7?" 

“Haha! I knew you like her!”

“Uh maybe we should order some food now, the waitress has been asking us twice, Scar.” Lizzie looks at the menu to avoid eye contact and to not let the topic go further.

“It wasn’t my fault, you were the one who kept forgetting to see what you want because you are busy texting with your girlfriend.” Scarlet teased and soft crimson shades slowly show up on Lizzie’s face.

“Oh look, Liz! She just posted a new fic. Ouh, I wonder what it is about now.” A mix of excitement and curiosity floats around her as she playfully makes a little dance move with her shoulders.

“Oh, she posted it earlier than she planned, that's good. It’s a Wanda story. She told me the idea, it’s about—-” before Lizzie can finish her words, Scarlet interrupts her.

“Nope. nope. Nope.. No spoilers please. I’m gonna read it later.” Scarlet raises her index fingers as her stop sign.

Lizzie laughs at her antics. “Okay, okay. All I’m gonna say is, it’s a really good plot. You’ll like it.”

The girls order their food and spend some time catching up.

_____

Liz:

“Have you eaten lunch yet, sweetie?

Y/n:

“Not yet. I was too lazy to get out of my apartment but since you keep reminding me to eat something, I am getting lunch now. 😁"

Liz:

"Are you going to cook something?"

Y/n:

"No. I'm just gonna go to this restaurant I love. I'll be right back, darling. I'll text you when I get there, love. 😘"

Liz:

"Okay, talk soon. 😘"

Even just the short conversation makes you and Lizzie feel like you are on cloud nine, drunk with happiness.

______

Some fans sometimes come to them for pictures or autographs but both Marvel actresses were enjoying their lunch and their leisure time together until one message from you popped up. Lizzie's eyes widened, her stomach turned and her heart dropped after she read what you sent her.

Y/n:

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Liz! You will not believe who I see right now! Elizabeth Olsen!! I see her at the restaurant I'm at now. She is so gorgeous. She's with Scarlet Johansson right now."

"Oh my god. Shit. Scar, she's here." Lizzie exclaimed in whispers, trying her best to keep calm and look around casually so it wouldn't look obvious.

"Huh? What happened? Who's here?" The Black Widow cast asks in surprise and confusion at the same time.

"Y/n. She's here!" She whispers.

"What? How did you know?" Scarlet pitched out another question as she kept her head straight looking at Lizzie.

"She sent me this." Lizzie lets Scarlet read your message.

Then another message popped up.

Y/n:

"I really want to come up to her and say hi."

"Gosh, now she's gonna come here and say hi." Panic starts to scream a little in Lizzie's tone and she shows her phone to Scar again.

"You don't know what she looks like, right?" Scarlet asks.

"No. I don't know that she is a huge fan of.. you know, me." Lizzie taps her fingers rapidly and nervously.

"Well, d'uh, Lizzie? She writes fics about you and Wanda." The blonde laughs a little and shakes her head.

"Oh yeah. Yeah. You are right. My brain just can't think—" Lizzie tries to respond but gets interrupted. "Straight?" Scar finishes her words in a teasing smirk.

Lizzie rolls her eyes and holds her smile knowing what Scarlet really meant. A fan comes and asks for a selfie with them.

As soon as the girl leaves, Lizzie asks Scarlet in a whisper, "Do you think it was her?"

"Well, I don't know, Liz. Oh text her and ask if she decides to come to Lizzie" Scarlet pitches the idea as she forms an air quote on Lizzie's name.

The now nervous younger Olsen sister follows the suggested idea and texts you.

Lizzie:

"So, did you decide to go say hi to her?"

A few minutes passed and she hasn't got any reply from you. Then another fan politely interrupts the silence.

Lizzie doesn't realize that she stares at the girl a little longer while her mind wonders if it's you until Scarlet nudges her elbow and she continues talking friendly then takes another selfie with their favorite MCU casts.

The more fans come to them, the more it drives her mind all over the place and keeps guessing which one was you. Her curiosity makes her ask each fan their name, just in case it was you. Anticipation is killing her by now and she decided to text you again.

Lizzie:

"Babe? Are you okay? How was it?"

Silence was still what she got. "Why hasn't she replied yet?" She asks herself with a little frustration as she keeps checking on her phone for your reply.

"Well, if she already came to you then what would you do?" Scarlet questioned the brunette.

“I don’t know.” Lizzie shows her thinking looks as she mindlessly bites her nails. Then her phone brings her back out of her daze. “Oh! That must be her.” She talks to herself as she undoubtedly checks her phone.

A Surprised facial expression appears as she sees your message with a picture of her that you took from afar earlier.

Y/n:

“Look how beautiful she is. I saw that she was very sweet to her fans. I think I'm not going to come up to her. I feel bad that she doesn't have her privacy to have her lunch, people keep coming to her. I’m just gonna finish my food and maybe go home after that.”

Lizzie tries to look as calm as she can as she wonders where you are sitting from the view of her picture you took then looks back to check the picture again and avert her eyes around. “Scar, don't look around, I don't want to look obvious that we are wondering which one is her but here, look what Y/n texted me.”

As soon as Scar saw the pictures and read the message, she almost couldn’t help herself to turn her head to where you possibly were but Lizzie stops her.

“Aw she’s so sweet and thoughtful.” The blonde comments. “So, if she’s not coming to see you, what are you going to do now Liz? She added.

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking of asking her if she wants to meet up or at least have a video call. Should I try to come and have a spontaneous meet up with her here right now? She said she’s leaving soon.” Lizzie rants out her thoughts as she casually searches around that might give a clue which one is you.

A full minute of silence from Lizzie as Scar waits for the answer of her question. The brunette finally breaks her silence. “Uhm.. I don’t know. Uh, I… I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back, Scar.” but being friends with Lizzie since she joined Marvel makes Scarlet know her pretty well like the back of her own hand.

Scarlet gently grabs Lizzie’s arm to quickly stop her from getting up. “Wait, wait, wait Liz. I know you. You are not going to the bathroom, you are going to find her, aren’t you?” The blonde actress guessed in a teasing tone and smiled.

No words come out of her lips but a little smirk forms and that’s all Scarlet needs as an answer then she lets go her hand off Lizzie’s arm. “Well, good luck. Have fun on your first date with your girlfriend. Text me if you want me to wait or not.” Scarlet cheers her and wiggle her eyebrows.

With that, Lizzie walks away to find you.

_____

Unfortunately, today is a pretty busy day at the restaurant. After a few steps away from her table towards the direction she guessed where you are at, most tables are occupied. Her eyes look for a woman she thinks looks like your age and any other clue that can help her.

At first she looks for a woman who is on her phone but she realizes it won’t help. Most people are on their phone these days. Then she remembers that you posted a story earlier, her mind instantly thinks that you have your laptop with you on your table right now while having your lunch. It helps her narrow down her obstacles to find you after she sees some women has their laptop with them.

She tries to be as casual as she can. Some pairs of eyes recognize her and some don’t or perhaps they are just trying not to stare at her. She then texts you again, a subtle question that won’t be too obvious that she wants to know if you are still there or not.

Lizzie:

“How’s your food babe? Are you still having your lunch?”

A few minutes of silence, none of your replies come to her inbox. “Dang it! She probably turns her phone on vibrate mode again.” she thought to herself, knowing your habit.

Meanwhile, you are trying to prevent yourself from staring at your idol from far away so you are focused on writing your new romantic fic, you can’t keep Liz out of your mind. All those sweet touchy ideas and stories you wrote were inspired by her or your conversations with her. It even sometimes makes you smile. You miss her today but you know her plan for today, spending time with her best friend so you try to let her “girls day out” time.

As you get distracted by your own feelings of missing her, you can’t help yourself and you grab your phone to text her only to find out you missed her text.

You quickly reply.

Y/n:

“Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t see your message. My phone was on vibrate. Yes, I’m still here, but I’m done with my lunch and just waiting for my check. I hope you are having a great time with your best friend. I can’t wait to chat with you again. I miss you.”

Just like that, your message definitely dropped a bomb of jumbled feelings on her. She reads it in awe, her heart feels light and she feels giddy when she reads that you miss her yet she is now alarmed that her time is running out and she needs to pick up her pace to find you. Like a cherry on top, the nervousness gradually grew over the other mixed up feelings.

She directs her eyes from one table to another table as she walks. She starts to feel more anxious that she would miss the chance to meet you, her mind rapidly thinks.

Her fingers start to get cold, her heart beats race but a final resort of thought jumps into her mind.

She takes a deep breath. “Fuck it.” She mumbles and she opens the apps on her phone then calls you and her eyes are ready to spot you whenever you pick up her calls. “Come on, y/n. Pick up the phone.” she mumbles once more with full of hope.

_____

The waiter drops off your bill. While you are checking on it, you notice that your phone vibrates.

Your stomach does somersaults and your heart cheers with such thrill, you swear you could hear it. Despite all that, you are nervous. You stare at your phone screen for a good few seconds, questions bouncing around in your head as you tap your finger on the table nervously.

Why is she calling me? Is this an accidental call? Should I answer it? What if I got speechless?

_____

Lizzie hears you answer the call on the other end of the line. Her eyes jump from one person to another and her heart skips a beat when she finally spots you. She knows it was you as soon as she sees you has the phone with your left hand.. “H–hello? Liz?” She can hear your highly strung voice and her feet lead her to your table slowly.

“H-hi y/n. Yes, it’s me Liz.” her timorous voice wrapped in excitement makes its way to be heard.

“Uh-it’s so nice to finally hear your voice. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you were gonna call. I wasn’t prepared.” you let out a nervous laugh.

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you first I was gonna call. I got your text. I miss you too. So, I decided to call you. So are you leaving soon?” Lizzie can’t stop smiling while she talks to you.

“Uh yeah, pretty soon. I just got my bill. Are you still having lunch with your best friend? Where are you now?” you ask curiously. You start to calm down from your sudden nervousness.

“Aaw, you are leaving? I think it would be a great idea if you stay a little longer.” She ignores your question yet pitches out an idea that caught you in confusion.

Of course you asked “And why is that?” followed by a little laugh. All you can think is how cute she sounds. You always think that she is cute but to think that her voice melts your heart this easily? No, you never thought of that. Or perhaps you fell for her, so hard.

“Because I’m right here.” She answers enthusiastically. Lizzie tries to take her exhilaration down a notch to avoid attention from people surroundings.

“Wait, what? You–you are here? What did you—” you stop your words as soon as you feel a presence in front of you. From the corner of your eyes, you can see someone standing and you quickly look up to see who it is. “---mean?” you finally finished the word you were gonna say in a very low voice. You felt like you just got struck by lightning. Your eyes refuse to blink, your mouth is slightly open. You are stunned, or you can even say that you are frozen like an ice sculpture. You are shocked and confused why in the world the most beautiful woman, the woman you idolized so much, is standing right in front of you, smiling and her green eyes sparkling in happiness looking at you.

“Uh–I–uh-W-wait–Liz..hold on..Lizzie Olsen is standing right in front of me and you just told me that you are here. So..does it mean–” you stupidly still hold your phone against your ear and talk on the phone.

Lizzie lets out a cute laugh and thinks how cute you look. “Hello, I really love your writing." She intentionally said the same exact words with her first message to you through the phone.

Her intention to prove to you that the Liz who you have been talking to this whole time and her are the same person worked. You swiftly connect the dots and are convinced by the truth. “Oh…OH!!! Oh my god! Liz? Lizzie? I have been talking to you this whole time?” You yell in a whisper, trying to suppress your popping elations. Your skin slowly turns red.

She laughs a little louder at your reaction but she tries to calm you down as she leans to you a little and whisper “Y/n, shusshh. We wouldn’t want to attract more attention than we already have right now.” She puts her index finger on her smiling lips.

“Oh, yeah yeah. Sorry.” you take a deep breath and exhale them out. “Okay, okay. I’m good.. I–I’m good. Uh–” you ramble.

“Can I join you?” she asks softly.

“Yes, of course. Please have a seat.”

"So this is the blind date we have been talking about?" The iconic laugh of hers follows right after her teasing question.

"Well, it's more surprising, unplanned and spontaneous than I thought it would be but y-yes of course! This is it.. this the blind date." You awkwardly yet subtly try to fix your look in front of her.

Oh that smile, those green eyes and even her perfume have successfully turn your brain into a mush.

You are hypnotized by the ethereal views in front of you and you are lost in your thoughts. You still can’t believe you have been talking to her this whole time, romantically to each other. The one and only gorgeous Elizabeth Olsen has been telling you that she loves everything you write and everything about you.

Both of you have been the biggest fans to each other this whole time and nothing can beat that.

A/n: Welp, that's it for today. Let me know what you think and I hope you like it. Reblog and comments are highly appreciated. Follow me for more. See you in next!

Cheerio!

Taglist: @madamevirgo @musicinourlips @unstable-sapphic-hoe @fanboy7794 @chloe7076 @b0mbdotc0m @trikruismybitch @ichala @californianwhiterabbit @honey-sweet-hiraeth @imfuckinggenius @sxfwap @chaekhan @daenerys713 @luvmcgrath @stupidsapphicsstuff @pattypavo @stonemags @frvny @franfineashell @heyyoweveryone @ygtft-chen @yaaskasey @sweeet-likeeee-cinnamonn @paumxmff @dopeyouth @beaniejennie @ineedafinghug @idkwhatimwriting @lucydiibi @mainly-rebloging-fics-i-like @gloriousfoxruins @grxvitye @mcubreakdown101 @aos22 @wandanatstan @paulawand @yeeterthekeeper @femalehomosexual666 @snowdrop1026 @modernmonalisa @nothingisrealanyway @idamaemann @sweeterlust @royalityofmultifandom @playboysaleen @peabrain112 @gwhaley127 @harleyswanda @bodhi-j @darth-rain @cristin-rjd

[floralcyanide]

ɪғ ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ɪs ᴡʀᴏɴɢ, I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ — ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ᴊᴏʜɴ “ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ” ᴇɢᴀɴ

john “bucky” egan x fem!reader

Lunch with Dr. Egan leads to him showing you old photographs at his home, which opens a door to a new side of your advisor and your relationship with him.

(Headcanons: One | Two)

warnings: age gap (reader is 23-25, Bucky is in his 40s), descriptions of war, the insinuation of ptsd, smoking, drinking, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

author’s note: here is the first part (maybe) to my Professor Bucky au!! if ya'll want more just let me know, I'm indecisive about it tbh. I probably won't write smut for this series though. feedback is appreciated!

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | (If Loving You Is Wrong) I Don't Wanna Be Right - Barbara Mandrell

(when it’s from Bucky’s point of view, I will use Bucky rather than Dr. Egan.)

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

You’re giddy, like it’s the first day of class all over again, except it’s a different type of nervousness. It’s not like you’re going on a date or anything, but you’re seeing your advisor outside of campus. It’s a little nerve-wracking. Especially because he’s so interesting and attractive and… are you crushing on Dr. Egan? Absolutely, positively not! He’s your superior and advisor, and you will never cross that line. Even if you find him fascinating in numerous ways. 

The small restaurant that Dr. Egan suggested is bustling with people when you arrive. You sit patiently in the booth as you wait for your superior to show. When he finally approaches, he apologizes profusely for being late.

“It’s okay, Dr. Egan. You’re a busy man.”

This launches the two of you into a conversation about your extracurricular activities and life outside of work and school. Dr. Egan wants to know more about your work at the museum. You tell him all about how it started and where you see it going. He listens intently the entire time, asking questions throughout the conversation. You eventually order your meals and continue discussing the museum until the topic strays.

“I have a lot of photos of us from where we were stationed,” Dr. Egan mentions around a sip of water, “I think I have some of your father, actually.”

You sit up at that, “Really?”

“Quite a few of me too. Would you want to see them?” Dr. Egan chuckles at your sudden interest.

“Of course I would,” you say with a grin, “When and where?”

“If you’re okay with it, I don’t live too far from here. I have a lot of stuff you can look at if you’d like.”

After lunch concludes, you and Dr. Egan head over to his quaint home near downtown- a mere walk from the restaurant. The living room has a large array of books and records on a bookcase the size of a wall, some paperwork is strewn on the couch and on the dining room table. Dr. Egan profusely apologizes for the mess.

“I can’t imagine how many assignments you have to grade,” you say, taking in the various novels and history books on the bookcase, “I don’t mind the mess.”

“All the stuff is in the extra room,” Dr. Egan says, motioning to the hallway with a smile.

He appreciates your love for literature and history and your patience with his lived-in home. Bucky would never ask if you had a partner as it isn’t professional or his business, but he’d be surprised if you’re single. If he were your age all over again- he would stop his train of thought there before it travels any further. You giddily follow him into his guest room, where there are shelves full of things, including photographs. 

“Here’s one of just your father,” Dr. Egan says, holding the photo over his shoulder to you as he scuffles through other pictures.

You carefully take the photograph, look over it, and take in your father in his youth. He’s never shown you many photos of him from the war; usually, they’re of him with other soldiers or aren’t of the best quality. But this photo is up close, and your father is alone.

“You can have it if you want,” Dr. Egan says as you stand next to him, still eyeing the picture.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“I’m certain. I collected most of the photos and stuff the others didn’t want. If I can pass them down, I will.”

You smile at Dr. Egan, who returns it as he looks back down at the table, “This one is me.”

You grab a hold of the left side of the photograph, and Dr. Egan lets you take it from his grasp to look closer, “This Is you?”

“Sure is,” he says.

Dr. Egan was beyond handsome- still is, of course. His curls were darker, and his skin less freckled. He had a little more light in his eyes. You happen to glance up and see a photo of him where he appears much different. Dr. Egan has quite a bit of facial hair and looks shell-shocked. He quickly moved the photo, which looked like a POW card, under some others. You glance over at him, and he gives you an uneasy look before turning his attention to a photo of another young man.

“This is my good friend, Gale,” Dr. Egan clears his throat, “he was with your father and me a lot through training and overseas.”

Sensing a change in the older man’s demeanor, you change the subject, “We don’t have to go through your things if it brings back sore memories.”

“Ah, don’t worry about me. I’d rather tell the stories over and over than forget.”

You hesitantly reach for the area where he shoved the POW card out of sight, sliding it out from under some other pictures.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d like to know more about this,” you hold up the photo, giving Dr. Egan an earnest look.

“You’ll have to get a few drinks in me first,” he half-jokes.

You raise an eyebrow with a smirk, “That’s all it takes, Dr. Egan?”

The layered comment doesn’t go past him as he takes a step closer to you, your chests almost touching, “Just know my life can get a little dark.”

You stare up at him, your gaze careful, “I can handle it.”

The tension is palpable but Dr. Egan breaks it by taking a step back,  “I hope you like whiskey ‘cause it’s all I’ve got.”

You follow him to the living room, where he pours two glasses of whiskey, handing one to you as you take a seat on the couch. Dr. Egan sits on the side of the couch that’s by the record player, where he puts on something to play quietly as you talk.

“I was shot down back in forty-four and landed in Germany,” Dr. Egan pulls out a cigar from his pocket before clipping it and lighting it, “You don’t mind, right?”

You shake your head and let him continue his story.

“Managed to hide for a day before I was found. It was a rough few days of being captured. I thought I was going to die for sure until I made a run for it when I had the chance.”

You watch Dr. Egan carefully, his eyebrows furrowed as he replayed the memories in his head. He puffs the cigar before sighing, “Then I got captured for real by the Nazis, and they interrogated me. Didn’t say a word.”

“I bet that was terrifying,” you frown.

“Yeah,” Dr. Egan nods, his face breaking out into a solemn smile, “Before I got shot down, Gale had been declared MIA. I was worried he had gotten into trouble, but Gale is Gale, he always got himself out of any trouble he got into. Anyway, when I got to the POW camp, I found him there. So we stuck together.”

“That’s good that you had someone you knew there,” you say.

“Knew a few men there, actually. Some didn’t make it out.”

You put a hand on Dr. Egan’s knee, the whiskey making you a little brave, “You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to, Professor.”

Dr. Egan glances down at your hand before moving his eyes back to yours, “Like I said, I’d rather remember than forget.”

Your hand doesn’t leave his knee as he continues his story, describing the work he had to do over the months he was at the camp. Dr. Egan finally gets to when he escapes, and they end up at another POW camp, where the Nazis fail. 

“I ran around like a madman looking for a flag,” Dr. Egan chuckles, shaking his head, “Did finally find one. Scrambled up to the pole and put up that American flag, and for the first time since the war started, I felt safe.”

“Do you still feel that way? Safe?” you ask.

“I don’t think there’ll be another war anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Egan lets his cigar go out.

“No, I mean, do you feel safe in general? My father still has nightmares about it all. He refuses to get help,” you say sadly.

“There are times I’ll wake up sweating without remembering what I dreamt about, and there’s no doubt it’s about the war,” Dr. Egan polishes off his second glass of whiskey, “But I’m in a good place. I do what I love, and I get to teach brilliant minds like you.”

“That’s great. What more could you want?” 

Dr. Egan snorts at that, waving his hand dismissively, “Nothing that I could discuss without embarrassment.”

“We tell each other just about everything, Dr. Egan,” you say, leaning in a tad closer, “You can trust me.”

Dr. Egan lets his eyes flutter to your lips for only a second before boring his eyes into yours, “But can you trust me?”

“I do. I do trust you,” you say softly, taking in the odd look on your superior’s face.

“I’m just alone whenever I’m not in class or on campus. And it gets to me sometimes,” Dr. Egan shrugs, “No big deal.”

“Many of us wish for more in the romance department, Dr. There’s no embarrassment there.”

Your palm burns through Bucky’s slacks, and he feels fidgety when making contact. It had been a while since anyone had laid a hand on him in any way. It didn’t help that you made him nervous. You’re quite the looker and intelligent beyond your means. You’re compassionate about everything and seem to notice Bucky more than everyone else. Maybe it’s because you knew there was something about him the day you met him that was different. And now that you know what it is, you don’t treat him any differently. 

“It’s just that not everyone wants to be with someone with a past like mine or deal with the current consequences of that past, you know?” 

Your face contorts into one of sadness, “Oh, that’s not true, Dr. Egan.”

“You can call me John, you know,” Dr. Egan says abruptly.

“There’s a lot of people who wouldn’t mind being with someone with a rough past, John.  A lot of us have things we carry that we aren’t proud of,” you say.

“Would you mind?” 

“Mind what?”

“A rough past.”

“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t mind it.”

You suddenly notice how close the two of you have become in proximity, and you struggle to snap out of the haze filling the room. Bucky knows better, but he still lets his hand find your hip. His touch is blazing hot, and you nearly gasp at the sensation. He gently guides you onto his lap, where you perch yourself without much thought. Bucky’s other hand finds itself on your other hip, his fingers squeezing deftly into the fabric of your skirt. He stares up at you without a word, the room now quiet as the record had long since stopped playing. 

“What else would you not mind?” Dr. Egan asks you, his gaze taking in your form.

You exhale shakily and let a laugh escape your lips, “Not much.”

Dr. Egan lets his right hand slide up your body until he reaches your neck, his thumb lightly caressing your pulse, “That doesn’t help me any, doll.”

You know it’s wrong, but it feels so right. It feels so perfect to be the center of Dr. Egan’s attention and to be so close to him physically. You’re both adults and are capable of making decisions, even if they have consequences. You decide to end Dr. Egan’s teasing and you move your hands from where they were on his shoulders to his cheeks. Pulling him to you, you meet halfway to press your lips to his. Something in that moment feels complete, like the stars are aligned and the world is standing still. Dr. Egan’s hand grasps the back of your neck as he kisses back, throwing all caution to the wind. 

You feel yourself getting too warm, so you pull away from the embrace with a little reluctance. Dr. Egan follows your lips before opening his eyes.

“Why’d you stop?”

“It has been a while for you, hmm? Take a lady to dinner first, John,” you fix a piece of hair behind his ear, chuckling at his expression.

“Dinner it is, then.”

[shadowlali]

Lali🖤

That fic you did for the anon with Ranch Owner Ale x Pastors Daughter needs a pt2 P L E A S E, it was so juicy!!

Consider giving them a Ale Vargas Jr in the oven and then the parents have to find out 👀 [can you tell i enjoy the drama??]

Honestly even if you don't make a Pt2, I just wanted to say that every fic you put out is so top tier. Your style and creativity is one of my favorites here. Despite your school schedule which I'm sure is harcore since Organic Chemistry is no joke, you're always posting banger - book quality fics for us for *𝐅 𝐑 𝐄 𝐄*.

Thank you for your existence and efforts 🖤 You are so appreciated.

pastor's daughter - part 2

COD AU - Rancher!Alejandro Vargas x pastor's daughter!reader

[18+] wc: ~4.1 k masterlist part 1

warnings: NSFW, some proofreading, no use of Y/N nor too many details on reader’s appearance, angry dad/somewhat difficult family dynamics, talks about raising a child, allusions to a HEA, pet names (mami, nena, traviesa), fingering, unprotected sex a/n: my amazing, lovely mutual 💖! you sent this request in so long ago and i have finally finished it. thank you for your patience and sweet words. i hope you enjoy 🖤 to the anon who sent in another ale x reader pregnancy request, don't worry i am working on it! 🤍

No matter how long you stare at the white stick, the two little lines stay the same. You flip it over in your hand, thinking that maybe it's a joke, maybe a little message will appear that says “just kidding!” But it doesn’t, and the little pink lines stay the same. You throw it on the counter, landing it right on top of the three other tests you took which have the same conclusion: you’re pregnant. 

Your head spins from the idea, or more so the fact that you are indeed pregnant, carrying a child, and you’re possibly going to be a mother. Your hands grip the counter as the panic sets in, the room suddenly spinning. It’s not like you were careful, you just really didn’t think it would happen from just one time. 

You think about telling your mom, but you’re terrified at her reaction. You sure as hell won’t tell your dad, the town’s pastor. You have absolutely no idea what he’ll do especially if he finds out who the father of your baby is. The pastor’s daughter knocked up by the wealthy ranch owner is sure to cause a scandal. 

There is only one person who you have to tell, and it's Alejandro. Your phone burns a hole in your pocket. He set up his contact information weeks ago when you two… unexpectedly made a baby in his home? You haven’t seen him since, too busy with church events to find the time to escape your parents’ grasp. 

“Honey?” your mom calls from outside the bathroom door, ”are you okay?” 

“Ye–yeah, I’m almost out.” 

You hear her footsteps continue to the living room and you decide to text Alejandro. 

You: Hi, are you busy? Can I see you? 

Sent at 9:28 A.M.

Alejandro Vargas: No, I’m not busy. Si hermosa, do you want me to pick you up? Where are you? [Yes, beautiful]

Sent at 9:29 A.M.

You: I’ll meet you at the café parking lot. In the back. 

Sent at 9:30 A.M.

Alejandro: I’ll be there soon. 

Sent at 9:30 A.M.

You quickly hide the pregnancy tests, placing one in your pocket before washing your hands. With your purse in hand, you quickly yell out I'm meeting a friend for bible study, to your mom before she asks anymore questions. The walk to the cafe only takes 10 minutes and by the time you get there, Alejandro’s truck is in the back lot. 

As you approach, he gets out of the driver’s side and walks to the passenger’s, opening the door for you. Looking around, you find the coast clear and rush to hug him. His arms wrap around you, strong and warm, his fresh cologne filling your senses.

“¿Qué pasa, nena?” [What’s wrong, my girl?] 

You sniffle, tears filling your waterline. “We need to talk, Ale. Somewhere private.” 

He nods, helping you into his truck then getting in through the driver’s side. The ride to his ranch is quiet, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. Alejandro turns to look at you periodically, but your forehead is kept pressed on the cool glass of the passenger window. 

“Are you alone?” you ask as his ranch comes into view. 

“There’s no one else here, nena. Don’t worry.” 

He helps you off the truck and leads the way into the house. You see the same couch where you were bent over a few weeks ago. It causes a flutter in your lower tummy, but you push it down, the topic of conversation is too important to be turned on right now. He sits on the opposite couch, patting the space next to him. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Your dad isn’t here with a rifle pointed at my head,” he laughs to lighten the mood, ”so I assume he hasn’t found out–” 

“I’m pregnant. I took four home tests and they all came out positive,” you interrupt him in a jumble of words, giving him the test. 

His eyes widen, glancing down at the pregnancy test before taking it in his hand. Alejandro focuses on the two little lines, taking a deep breath and placing it on the coffee table. 

“Okay–that’s okay, what are we–,” he stutters, dragging a hand over his beard, ”what do you need me to do? What do you need, do you want to tell your parents together? Do you want me to take you to a gynecologist appointment in the next town? Are we–are you keeping the baby? Just tell me what and I’ll do whatever you need.” 

Alejandro’s words come out fast, the expression on his face seemingly only a little scared. You shake your head, tears falling down your cheeks.

“I don’t know what I want yet,” you whisper, ”right now, just a hug. Please.” 

“Of course, hermosa. Come here,” he says while pulling you in closer. 

He strokes your back while your tears silently fall. While you sit there, wrapped in Alejandro’s arms, with his cologne in your nose, you wonder what it would be like to be a mom. 

Of course you feel like you aren’t ready… but what if you are? Maybe it would be wonderful to have a tiny human that you can love and cherish. You’ve always thought that this would happen much later in life, but the opportunity is here now. And Alejandro seems ready to support whatever decision you make. 

“What if–,” you start, ”what if we keep the baby?” 

He cups your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “Then we’ll raise a baby, together.” 

“Are you sure? You won’t leave me–”

“No,” he says firmly, ”it took two of us to make this baby. It’s going to take two of us to raise them.” 

The look in his eyes is serious. Absolutely no doubt, resolute in his beliefs. 

“Believe me, hermosa,” he whispers, ”you’re not alone in this. I’ll go right now and tell your parents that we’re expecting.” 

You place a light kiss on his mouth, sinking your fingers in his thick hair. He returns it, cradling the back of your skull and running his thumb on your cheek. 

“I think,” you say as you pull back, ”I should be the one to tell them. It’s going to be a shock to them and it’s best if I do it alone.” 

It takes a lot of convincing for Alejandro to take you back home. He’s visibly nervous and does not like the idea of you giving them the news alone. This is my responsibility too, hermosa. A real man would show up. 

But, you have no idea how they'll react with him there. So after much persuasion, Alejandro drops you off at home, reminding you to call him the moment the conversation finishes. 

After a few more okay, one more kiss, you hop down his truck, noticing your father’s car in the driveway. He’s definitely here, you think. Never in your life has walking up to the front porch seemed so scary. Your legs feel like lead, only becoming heavier with each step towards the front porch. You let the door close behind you softly, sealing out the rest of the world. 

His bible is placed on the entry table along with the notebook he uses to write the weekly sermons. With cold fingers, you drag them down the front covers of both, praying for a little strength. Adult actions, adult consequences, you remind yourself. Before the burst of confidence leaves, you walk into the living room.

“Hi,” you say in a tiny voice, making your presence known in what suddenly feels like a tiny room. 

Your dad looks up from one of his theology books, a warm smile on his face. He takes one look at your anxious form and immediately goes into protective dad mode. 

“What happened?” he demands. 

“How was it with your friend?” your mother asks, flipping through a fashion magazine, still oblivious to the situation. 

“I need to talk to the both of you.” 

Your mother finally looks up, startled at your serious tone. The look in your father’s eyes doesn’t waiver, most likely already suspecting something is wrong with his normally bubbly daughter. 

“I’m–I’m pregnant,” you stutter out. 

Your mom drops her teacup onto the couch, dousing a pretty throw pillow and the seat cushion in liquid. They stay frozen for a few seconds until your dad snaps his book, dragging a hand down his face. Your mom reacts too, shakily grabbing her teacup and placing it on the coffee table. 

“Who?” your father asks, his voice just above a growl. 

“Who what–” 

“Who is the father?” he demands more firmly. 

“Oh,” you whisper, finally understanding his question. “It’s um… Alejandro.”

“When–” he starts. 

“Does he know?” your mom speaks up, her voice just above a whisper. 

You turn to look at her and nod, grateful that she’s interrupting what you assume to be an onslaught of intrusive questions from your dad. “He’s the first person I told.” 

“You should’ve told us first–” 

“And what did he say?” your mom once again interrupts your dad. 

“He said he’ll support me no matter the decision I make–”

Your father makes a disgruntled sound, immediately standing up and walking towards the front door. 

“Where are you going?”

He ignores your question but you manage to block his path, assuming he’s walking to pick up his car keys. “Dad, please,” you whisper, grabbing his hand.

“Where–where were your morals? Did my words mean nothing to you? Did the education we provided you at the church mean nothing to you?” he barks out, pushing your hand away.   

“No, no, they–they did, dad! Of course they did–” 

“I thought I could trust him, but look at what he did to our daughter!” he continues, turning to your mother. 

“Mi amor,” she tries to reason, ”let’s calm down and talk about it. Alejandro is a good person, it sounds like he’s going to step up and take care of her. He should come here and talk to us–” 

“He will not step foot in this house nor will she,” he points an accusatory finger at you, ”ever speak to him again.” 

Tears blur your vision at his words. Not wanting to hear his voice anymore, you turn and walk quickly to your room, ignoring his calls to come back. Your hands shake while pressing on Alejandro’s name in your phone. It only rings once and he’s answering the call, his gruff voice immediately calming you. 

“¿Qué pasó, hermosa?” he coos. [What happened, beautiful?]

“I told them and it didn’t–I mean it’s–I know they were going to be shocked but this is too much–” you hiccup between quiet sobs. 

“Shhh, pack up your things. I’m down the road.” 

“Wha–what?” 

“I’m down the road,” he repeats, ”pack up your things and stay on the line until you walk out the door.” 

It takes a moment for you to grasp what he’s saying. You’ve lived in this house your entire life, only leaving when going on vacation or visiting family, always wanting, but never actually moving out. A sudden pain strikes your chest because with this baby, if you pack up your stuff and leave, you’ll most likely never return. 

You hear Alejandro through the phone, asking if you heard him and if everything is okay. Your parents voices outside the door only become louder, and in that moment you make the decision. The most important items, such as personal documents and a few changes of clothes, are dumped in a small suitcase.

I’m outside, nena, Alejandro says through the receiver. You take one last look at the books on the shelf, the desk your dad built cluttered with little trinkets, the mountain of pillows on the bed and turn, opening the door to walk to the entryway. 

Your dad beats you to it, having already noticed Alejandro’s truck in the driveway. He opens the front door with enough force that it bounces against the wall, making a loud noise. Alejandro is already walking towards the front door, looking determined as he faces your father. 

“I should kill you for what you did to her! She is not leaving this house.” 

“We can go inside and talk about this,” Alejandro tries to reason,” I respect and care a lot for your daughter and I will do everything possible to make her happy–” 

“She is not going anywhere.”

“You don’t get to make that decision for her,” Alejandro calmly states, stretching his hand out for you to walk to him. 

“Go,” your mother whispers behind you, pushing you towards Alejandro. 

You walk around them both, ignoring your father completely. He tries to grab your arm but Alejandro blocks his hand, waiting until you’re in the car to keep walking. Alejandro places the suitcase in the back seat as your mother holds onto your father’s arm, preventing him from moving off the front porch. 

The drive to Alejandro’s ranch is silent, your body too exhausted to talk or even cry. Alejandro tries to ask how the conversation went down and what happened, but you shake your head, words unable to form in your mouth. Once at the ranch, he leads you inside and up to his room, grabbing a washcloth to wipe the mess of tears from earlier. 

“Get in bed, yeah? I’ll bring your suitcase in.”

By the time you strip out of your clothes, Alejandro has brought in your things and has set out a pair of pajamas. In the back of your mind, you think about how efficiently Alejandro moves. He’s a man of action, doing things to make you the most comfortable after such a stressful situation. His hand rubs soothing circles on your back while you curl up next to him, eventually falling into a dreamless sleep. 

- - - 

“¿No tienes frío?” Alejandro asks, placing a blanket over you without waiting for a response. [You’re not cold?]

You lift the blanket to make room for him and scoot closer to his warm body. The sun is slowly setting, the sky a flurry of different purples. The two of you lay on his patio daybed, listening to the chirp of crickets and the light rustle of wind. 

Alejandro kisses the side of your head, leaving his lips there as he breathes in. “He’ll come around, hermosa. He’s just surprised.”

You nod, heart heavy. “Yeah, I hope so.” 

“Either way, I won’t let him come speak to you unless it’s for an apology.” 

You snuggle deeper into Alejandro’s side, the seed of doubt planted by your father only further blooming. “Do you–do you think this is a good idea? Are we ready to be parents?” 

He stays quiet, breathing in your skin. “I don’t think anyone is really prepared to be parents,” Alejandro responds, placing a hand on your tummy. “But, we’re both prepared to give this child all the love and support they need. And even more than that.” 

You tilt your head back, locking eyes with Alejandro. He was so quick to offer everything to you: support, affection, a place to live, a place to raise your child. It’s in his nature, you very quickly realize, to give. He’s been single for so long, probably used to freedom and his own space. But there’s no annoyance in his gaze or actions, just a man ready to take responsibility and provide for the mother of his unborn child. 

Alejandro’s eyes flit down to your lips and up, over the soft planes of your face. Your lips tingle from how he kissed you before, intense and heavy, the soft scratch of his beard forever imprinted in your skin’s memory. You slide a hand on his arm, bringing it up to his shoulder and down the hard expanse of his chest, pressing your lips lightly to his. 

His hand cups your face before he moves his fingers to gently wrap around your neck. He licks at you, running the tip of his tongue over your bottom lip, teasing, before pushing it into the warmth of your mouth.

You circle his wrist with both hands, feeling him tighten his hold only slightly, keeping you still. He trails his lips over your cheeks and eyelids, giving you only a moment to catch your breath before he’s nipping the sensitive skin on your neck. A whimper claws its way out of your throat, cunt pulsing and feeling empty, empty, empty. 

“Mi chula,” he murmurs on your skin, letting go of your neck to drag a hand over your achy breasts, “lay back.” [My beautiful]

He pushes off the blanket, maneuvering your body to lay sideways on the daybed while he climbs over you. Alejandro drags your shirt up, dragging his lips over your belly before placing a soft kiss. Goosebumps rise from the light wind, but Alejandro is there to warm you up, his teeth finding the tight peaks of your nipples. 

“Ale,” you moan, threading your fingers through the mass of inky, black curls on his head. 

He squeezes the tender swells of your breasts with calloused fingers, pulling more whimpers from you. Alejandro moves up, attacking your mouth again. His fingers trail down, rubbing your tummy before snaking through your bottoms and easily pushing aside your thin panties. His fingers lightly skim over your swollen clit and continue down to your entrance. You nip at his mouth the moment he sinks a finger inside of you. 

“Traviesa,” he hums, dragging his now slick coated finger up to your sensitive button. [Naughty girl] 

Your hands tremble as they travel over his broad back and up to his hair, gripping harder the moment he sinks two thick fingers inside of you. Your hips twist and grind on his hand, whimpering the moment your clit makes contact with his palm. The patio is soon filled with the sounds of your moans and the wet strokes of his fingers between your thighs. 

“You missed this, didn’t you?” Alejandro groans against your jaw,” so fucking slick from just my fingers.” 

Everything turns to mush in your brain, words becoming too difficult to say, your focus solely on Alejandro and the way he moves, the way he breathes, the way he manages to break you into tiny little pieces and put you back together. 

The pressure in your core grows and grows and grows, your hips rolling from the pleasure. Alejandro grinds his bulge into the meat of your thigh, the warmth of his body burning you even through the layers of clothes. 

“Come on my fingers mami,” he whispers,” let me feel you.” 

His words send you over the edge, pussy tightening hard around his thick digits, covering his hand in your wetness while you come. He traps you in a kiss, fucking his tongue into your mouth with the same intensity of his fingers. You shake in his hold, clawing at his arms and neck, any piece of him that you can reach. 

Alejandro moves down, giving small licks and soft kisses to your tits, removing his fingers to lightly rub through your folds, calming you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. With his hand free from your pajama bottoms, he brings his fingers up to you, smushing your cheeks to open your mouth. 

You suck greedily, tasting yourself. He removes them from your mouth after a few moments, a string of salvia still connected. Alejandro licks it off, moaning at the taste of you. He yanks down your bottoms and panties, then has you sit up to remove your shirt. You’re left bare, the wind cooling your heated skin. 

He brings down his pants just underneath his heavy balls, pumping his cock with one hand while he spreads your legs to make room for himself. You slide a hand over the swells of your breasts, and down your tummy, to the wet opening of your cunt. 

Alejandro watches the movement of your hand, pumping his cock faster as he sees you slide a finger inside. You moan, feeling how swollen and hot you are. 

“Ale,” you whimper,” I’m so empty.”

“You want my cock, traviesa?” 

You hum a yes please, and trail a wet finger over his plush head, down the shaft, dragging a ragged moan from him. He moves your hand, placing it on your thigh to help him keep you spread open. He drags the head of his cock from your entrance, through your folds, and up to your bundle of nerves, rubbing until your back arches from the stimulation. 

No teasing, you whine, too delirious to wait any longer. Alejandro listens, sinking inside of you, hissing through his teeth, not stopping until the tip reaches the very end of you. You whimper from the stretch, wanting to push him off while also wanting him to fuck you deep. He stays still, head thrown back and hands gripping your thigh, your pussy quivering around his length. 

“If you weren’t already pregnant,” he murmurs,” I’d fuck a baby into you right now.” 

“Oh my go–” 

Alejandro doesn’t wait for you to finish, immediately sliding out to plunge back into you. You’re stuffed full, overwhelmed, wanting more Ale, more, please, more. He leans over you, linking your hand with his and placing it right above your head. You wrap your other hand around his neck, squeezing, begging for him to kiss you. 

“Fuck, fuck–” he groans,” do that–do that again.” 

You squeeze again, swallowing his moan once his lips find you in a wet kiss, teeth and tongues clashing from the force. He’s slow with each thrust, deliberate and careful in how he fucks you. Every inch, every vein, the entire shape of his cock feels like it's being branded onto the walls of your cunt. 

“Ale, faster. Please–”

He tightens his grip on your hand, shaking his head while he trails his lips across your jaw. “No, you take what I give you, mami.” 

Alejandro briefly lets go of your hand to tug off his shirt, throwing it to the side right on top of your clothes. His bare skin scorches yours, warms you to your very center. His cologne and the unique scent of him, masculine and fresh, invades your senses. 

You pull him closer, craving the scratches from his beard. He groans and whimpers with every bite mark or fingernail indent you leave on his tan skin. Alejandro digs his fingers into your thigh, spreading you impossibly wider for his broad hips. 

“Can’t wait until your belly grows with my child,” he moans, moving his hand to caress your tummy. 

He leans back, watching where you take him so beautifully. You bring your hand down and link it with his, keeping it pressed to your stomach. 

“I can’t wait to have your baby, Ale,” you whine, the need to become a mother only more intense with Alejandro’s words and his actions. 

Alejandro speeds up, impaling you with each thrust. You feel it in your spine, another orgasm sneaking up on you. His movements don’t falter, fucking you through it as you throw your head back and grip his hand tight. It lasts forever, well it feels like it lasts forever. You pulse around him, crying from how far he reaches inside of you with his fat cock. 

This is only the second time you two are intimate with each other, but as he finishes right after you, filling you with his seed and moaning your name in a broken cadence, you can’t help but think this was always meant to be. He falls on top of you, your sweaty bodies sticking together, his hips moving in short thrusts as he repeats your name in the soft juncture of your neck and shoulder. 

Alejandro gives you another kiss that leaves you breathless and panting. He slowly slides out of you, leaning back slightly to watch his spend drip out of your little hole. With thick fingers he pushes it back and rubs the rest on your thighs. 

You tangle your fingers in his hair, then caress the beard on his jaw. He leans into your hand and presses a kiss onto the palm, scooting down until he’s able to rest his cheek on your belly. The two of you lay in silence for a bit, regulating your breathing and cooling down. 

“We’re going to make this work, yeah?” he asks, his voice breaking through your sleepy brain. "No matter what your dad thinks, or what the town thinks, we're going to be the best parents we can. Right, mami?"

“Right, Ale."

[lizzybeth1986]

Drake and Kiara: When You're Fucking Racist

Series - TRR's Alternative LIs - The "Romances" that Didn't Happen

Previous - Hana and Madeleine: When You Reward Your Favourite Bully with One of Her Victims

A/N: Again, apologies for the length. There was a LOT to unpack in this one!! I'm really, really not going to be nice to Drake here. It was harrowing to go through a lot of these scenes again and I honestly don't have the patience or inclination to sugarcoat any of it.

CW: Mentions of gun violence and minimization of trauma. Mentions of racist fan vitriol towards a black character. Examination of the Jezebel stereotype.

Whenever I think about how unhinged the hatred towards Kiara (and especially towards Kiara's attraction to Drake) was, a specific edit comes to mind.

On the surface, it looks quite simple. Kiara in a white wedding dress, Drake right next to her in his blue formal suit. Both of them are smiling at the viewer. The background is a beautiful forest, and the entire picture is bathed in a lovely, muted sepia tone. A sweet, simple wedding scene.

The caption underneath this edit?

Classify under things no one asked for.

Kiara's dream come true!

The tags read "#i barf a little looking at this" and "#i must post to share the suffering". You find out in the comments that the OP created this edit inspired by one of the many fics where Kiara was Drake's stalker, and intended to make her creepy and deranged (but ultimately failed).

The comments are...tbh, things that this fandom has long since normalized and shrugged at when it comes to Drake stans. Multiple puke-face emojis. Multiple gifs signaling disgust. One stan even equates the ship name (Driara) to the word diarrhoea.

"She looks very stalkeresque and white "I drugged Drake so he's marrying me" wedding ready!"

"Well it's close to Halloween so we should expect scary shit"

"THAT is why I made that bitch my Maid of Honor...so she got the message LOUD AND CLEAR...it ain't NEVER gonna happen honey" (right below a barfing gif)

I wish I could say this example of Kiara hatred was the worst of the lot, or even the only one. It wasn't. I'm not sure even an entire essay would be adequate space to explore the sheer levels of vitriol, hatred and double standards dumped on this one character.

Until now, we've seen examples of alternative LIs that were treated with respect. With adulation. Often with kid gloves in case we hurt their poor lill fee-fees. Up until now, no matter what an alternative LI may have done, the LI matched with them wasn't allowed to treat them badly, nor was the MC able to get away with hurting them without punishment.

But in this series, Kiara was, is, and will always be an anomaly.

The Jezebel Stereotype

In most media, black women in particular tend to be subjected to a variety of stereotypes that often have serious, real-world implications. The Mammy, the Sapphire (that over time evolved to what we now know as the "Angry Black Woman" stereotype) and the Jezebel, being the most prominent ones among them. In this essay, I will be focusing specifically on the last.

An article in the Black Then website explains the definition and history of the trope this: "The portrayal of black women as lascivious by nature is an enduring stereotype. The descriptive words associated with this stereotype are singular in their focus: seductive, alluring, worldly, beguiling, tempting, and lewd. Historically, white women, as a category, were portrayed as models of self-respect, self-control, and modesty – even sexual purity, but black women were often portrayed as innately promiscuous, even predatory. This depiction of black women is signified by the name Jezebel."

So it isn't altogether uncommon to see stories where black women are juxtaposed against "pure", "innocent" white/white-passing women, and viewed as lesser. PB hasn't exactly escaped these stereotypes in their stories either - though there are a variety of characters and character types, we can't deny that there was a time when a black woman was made the antagonist, often in ways that were meant to measure her up to the MC/another white woman to her detriment.

(VoS screenshots from the HIMEME YouTube channel, ACOR screenshots from Vika Avey's YouTube channel)

Two very prominent examples of PB using this trope are Scarlett from VoS, and Xanthe from ACOR. There are other black women who serve as antagonists but in a more professional space, but these two particularly are measured on their attractiveness, sex appeal and "purity" in the narrative in comparison to either the MC, or someone close to them.

In VoS, Scarlett Emerson and Kate O'Malley are the sisters of the two male LIs (Grant and Flynn), but their treatment couldn't be any more different. Scarlett's role in the book is pretty short-lived. She's very prominent in the first half of the book as Kate's potential MOH who secretly hates her, before it's revealed in Ch 5 that Tanner was cheating on Kate with her (and that she'd loved him since she was a child). Notably, in that very scene, the MC places most of the blame on Scarlett (rather than on Tanner for choosing to betray his fiancée) by labelling the act as her seduction of him.

Thereafter she is either only mentioned, or has blink-and-you-miss-it appearances in one or two chapters. We see her in the "memory" portion of the bonus scene, but we are never shown what her future is like (even as minor characters like Miss Harleney get one!). Her bonus scene shows us how her bracelet ended up on Tanner's boat, and it is an uncomfortable scene to get through. Tanner berates Scarlett for having sex with him a week before his wedding, but it is she who points out that he asked her to come there! Yet the MC and others view her as the temptress who "seduced" Tanner, as if the man had no mind of his own.

The narrative often juxtaposes her with Kate, the pure, innocent, sweet fiancée (and she actually is! No pretence there) and the fandom lapped it up. There were many demands for Kate to be upgraded to LI status, which eventually resulted in PB allowing us to marry her if we chose. As I mentioned earlier, both Scarlett and Kate are sisters to two of our LIs - but one is made an LI, while no one bothers to even imagine what the other's future entails.

An even worse fate greets that of Xanthe, the sole female antagonist in ACOR. The slut-shaming and disgust over her overt sexuality is far more blatant here. And it is extremely ironic for Xanthe to be viewed in this way, because the MC herself is a courtesan and uses wiles to get men to do her bidding. While Xanthe herself is not perfect by any means - she is depicted as xenophobic and callous, going as far as to mock Syphax when he is sent away to a possible death as a gladiator - the MC's targeting of her goes beyond just her "righteous indignation" and develops into a form of hypocrisy. She has no qualms mocking Xanthe for her direct approach or her skimpy red dress (even though the MC herself wears a skimpy red dress and can seduce a man in a temple not too long after).

The end Xanthe meets is horrific in its implications - the black matron of her scholae (who began by promising the MC herself that "you need do nothing against your will") sends her away to sexual slavery in Sicily, while the black man who was one of the few bastions of morality in the book, escorts her, smiling, to the ship that will take her there. As far as the narrative is concerned, the end was well-deserved...even though PB has had no issues allowing white women to do far worse without any punishment.

We cannot view what ACOR did with Xanthe in isolation. They had built up to it early on - from the MC's reactions towards her, her patrons' dismissiveness of her, the MC's LIs' viewing her with derision and zero respect. The MC - despite her own unscrupulousness - is viewed as the "noble whore" to Xanthe, yet it is clear on even a surface read that there is not much difference between the two women.

The Jezebel stereotype, ultimately, is about dehumanizing the black woman it focuses on, so that her actions and choices are viewed as deviant from what is "normal" - feeding into either responses of disgust and derision, or a desire to objectify her. To some readers, it makes whatever awful or comparatively unfair end they meet, more palatable. Scarlett and Xanthe are not viewed as people by the narrative - especially not the way the MC of their books or even white female antagonists are. No one cares for their backstories, coos over their losses, wonders if they are okay. When they meet their inevitable end, the characters and so many in the fandom alike just shrug and move along.

How does a character like Kiara fit into this? Her smarts and linguistic talents are her most prominent traits, and while she does have feelings for Drake, she never really acts out-of-pocket towards him (more on this later). So at least from what we see in canon, there's very little about her that seems to apply to the Jezebel stereotype. Yet, the fandom is not only inclined, but eager, to view her as one. Kiara's feelings have been viewed in a far more predatory light, perhaps more often than any other female character in the series. Why is this so?

A response I have often seen - on reddit, on Kiara's wiki page, at times on Tumblr too - is how there is a "certain something" about Kiara that people "just don't like". Many players who prefer Penelope to her are often very aware of what she has done, but still insist they like her far more than they do Kiara. On a reddit thread about questioning the logic of having Kiara and Penelope as options for the MC's MOH in TRR3, certain players commented thus:

"I don't know why, I just dislike her a lot. Penelope is fine to me, but Kiara irritates me." (said commenter is an Aerin stan)

"I liked Penelope, I thought she was nice. But Kiara got on my nerves."

In her book, The Sisters Are Alright, Tamara Winfrey Harris makes an eye-opening (to me at least!) observation about how misogynoir works:

"Misogynoir, abetted by dehumanizing caricature, is like water. It fills its vessel, taking many forms, and then overflows, creeping unnoticed into the cracks of things, rotting the foundation. It spreads a belief in Black women’s inherent wrongness." (Italics mine).

Now of course, if I were to ask the current fandom, they would come up with a range of reasons. Some that emerged from fandom myths and became more popular than the truth in time, some from PB's excessive pandering to players that hated her. But the root of it all is in a certain "je ne sais quoi" that makes her automatically unappealing, resulting in those readers leaning towards misreading or misremembering her scenes, misrepresenting her motives, or watering down the impact of worse actions from whiter women. It results in a group of writers (who have thus far gone to the extent of retconning the worst of a white woman's actions just to make her look good) leaning into such readings, even when they're not true.

TRR1 Kiara: Pragmatic Courtier or Backstabbing Snake?

"Kiara is fake", "Kiara is a snob", "Kiara is self-serving", "Kiara promised to be friends with us but dropped us like a hot potato the moment we became unpopular". These are some of the most enduring takes about Kiara in the past few years, and readers who say this usually bring up a vague recollection of TRR1 and 2 as proof. Mostly that "Kiara was our friend" in the first book, and left us hanging at the beginning of TRR2.

Is that reading based in fact, though? Let's take a look at TRR1!Kiara and find out.

We are introduced to Kiara (along with Penelope, and standing next to Hana) in TRR3 when we meet Liam's other suitors. Olivia introduces each woman differently, and the descriptor she uses for Kiara is that she is the "daughter of a diplomat and fluent in ten languages" (note: Kiara never boasts of her linguistic skill, Olivia does. Nor are there any scenes of her looking down on anyone who doesn't speak her mother tongue French, unless of course you accidentally ask her to sleep with you).

Both she and Penelope note immediately that the MC doesn't quite fit in - if the MC questions the women about being allies with Olivia, a woman who calls them "harpies", they view that as an overreaction. When the MC tells the ladies at the Derby about getting lost, Kiara finds her tardiness and inability to fit in, a sign that she cannot keep up with the competition. Until the chapters in Lythikos, Kiara's and Penelope's characterizations are almost interchangeable, personality-wise. It is likely the team envisioned them more as European nobility rather than specifically Cordonian (based on Olivia's introductions), and they are both depicted as poised, refined and aware of their place in court.

It's in Lythikos that Kiara, at least, begins to show a more distinct personality (for Penelope it's after the Regatta). Unlike the rest of the court, who watches Olivia's unwanted kiss on Liam with either mild shock or disinterest, Kiara is angered by what she sees as a very obvious power-play - which gives the MC the opening she needs to gain an alliance.

Now this "alliance" scene of Kiara's is interesting, for two reasons. One is that fandom often uses this scene to establish her "double standards" in TRR2, claiming that Kiara opted to be friends with the MC. Yet nowhere in the scene does the MC or Kiara ever suggest a friendship with each other - they both agree to an alliance. Furthermore, this is an arrangement that benefits the MC more - there isn't exactly anything she contributes (or is expected to contribute) to Kiara from her end. Kiara's promise is that she will put in a good word in the MC's favour, and she upholds that promise throughout the social season.

Another is that among the courtiers, Kiara herself is the first person to identify and respond to the MC's potential if she shows it at the Derby and the tea party (though Hana is also a courtier, I view her strictly as an LI in this context - since her support is by default and is founded on a more emotional basis). Not many nay notice this, but there is a distinction between how Kiara responds to an MC in a successful play vs a failplay...in a way that none of the other suitors do. Take note of the screenshots below:

The top two pictures in this collage are dialogues that feature by default. The bottom two, however, are dependent on branch-coding. They only appear IF the MC has managed to win the approval of the King, the Queen and the press. If you don't succeed in the same, she will not mention your performance in the social season at all, nor will she say anything about the value of your alliance.

That is a far bigger deal than most players of this series realize. It means that Kiara has been watching us closely, and has understood our potential over the course of just three court events. Only two other characters are shown tracking our progress this way: Bertrand (who is our sponsor, so he has to keep track) and Queen Regina (who can guess already her stepson's feelings for the MC, which automatically makes her a person of interest). For Kiara to understand the MC's capabilities, and to openly admit she has potential this early in the competition - it takes a high level of rationality, honesty and pragmatism to come to such a conclusion. Unlike Olivia (who lashes out in jealousy at the MC), Penelope (who has to be told why exactly it's good to have allies), and Madeleine (who dismisses us as competition until it's too late), Kiara actually views the MC with a discerning, impartial eye and an objective approach.

So on the surface, it appears as if Kiara is written by a team that likes her! You could almost be convinced that they thought she was cool but were forced to pander to "crazy Drake stans" in their writing later (which is an argument I have heard often). After all, she's established as beautiful, skilled, smart and observant. You wouldn't do that for a character you don't like, right?

But even as early as TRR1, a disdain for Kiara creeps in from the writing that you rarely see for any of the others.

This is especially apparent when you look at how Kiara's proficiency with language is spoken about. It is supposed to be her most visible skill - Olivia identifies her by it, we see her peppering her English sentences with French words (of course, many may argue that she doesn't exactly sound like an actual French person...but let's remember that her writers aren't exactly very used to the language themselves or interested in doing extra research for authenticity!). As we approach the end of the first book, there are at least two dialogue options that result in people doubting her abilities or mocking her for speaking only English and French most of the time.

In TRR1 Ch 16, Madeleine optionally speaks to the MC over phone (believing her to be a reporter taking her interview) about her thoughts on Kiara. Kiara's tendency to speak mostly in French and English is supposed to be a sign that she "exaggerates her accomplishments". Mind you, this is from the same woman who claims to be the best choice for Cordonia despite her poor strategies and her antagonizing potential allies during the engagement tour (TRR2); who complains if the MC doesn't compliment her for mediocre work as a press sec (TRR3). The MC can also choose to diss Kiara in a similar way, treating Kiara like she is a circus performer and her skills as if they are meant for the MC's entertainment. The only solace I could derive from this dumpster fire of a dialogue option, was that Kiara managed to shut the MC up with her multilingual response.

No other time are we allowed to call a courtier's abilities and skills into question. The MC accepts on faith that Olivia is a badass with great fighting skills. Same with Penelope's ability as a seamstress. The MC is never even allowed to have legitimate complaints about Madeleine's work as press sec, besides maybe that she could "be a little nicer". So the fact that the writers not only have other characters doubt Kiara's talent, but also allow people to mock her about it in all three books...is really something.

Another possible indicator of this disdain is the fact that Kiara is the only suitor who never gets a chance to actually interact with Liam on-screen. Even Penelope, a fellow minor character, can approach and talk to him twice...and her gift to him is shown in Ch 18 whereas Kiara's and Hana's aren't. Despite the fact that Kiara is a potential suitor, the story never allows her to interact with Liam. She doesn't exactly have any interactions with Drake in this book either, but honestly nor does any other couple have much time together besides Liam and Olivia.

Drake and Kiara hardly seemed to be a possibility back in TRR1. Drake himself didn't seem to associate with anyone besides the MC and the group in the first book (and even with the group his interactions were infrequent). Kiara herself doesn't have many scenes that aren't related to the court or to the competition, even once she is no longer participating. The closest she comes to any sort of association besides Penelope, is a friendship with Hana that begins sometime before the Fox Hunt. Drake and Kiara never actually have any scenes together, or interactions, or references. It is likely that the idea to pair them up was entirely a Book 2 thing.

On a fandom level, neither Kiara or Penelope garnered much attention or fan reactions. They weren't noticed much, nor did you see their scenes too often. Probably that is why it was so damn easy to remember Kiara's entire equation with the MC wrong. Why certain stans of the book were able to get away with misrepresenting the relationship between her and the MC in TRR1, to hate on her in TRR2. I will not deny, though, that certain dialogue choices from PB (like "I thought we were friends!" in the Fydelia scene) may have had a hand in those beliefs becoming the "truth".

TRR2 Kiara - Pragmatic Courtier or Backstabbing Snake (Part 2)

I plan to get into the way the Drake and Kiara angle is framed in canon, but before that it's important to tackle that one elephant in the room - Kiara telling the MC the alliance is over. Because very often, people used this scene (coupled with their misinterpretations of Book 1) as their "justification" to hate her. Often, people would choose the ruder options (such as the Christmas card dialogue) and assume that Kiara was rude by default, rather than as a consequence of the MC's behaviour towards her.

Kiara and Penelope are the first to express surprise at the MC's return (and their reactions are shown as representative of the rest of the court). Kiara in fact is shocked that the MC dared to return (which is kinda warranted! Several people in these early chapters view that as a risky move, a gamble that could backfire on her. That's why Bertrand gets her a press secretary). Their scene with the MC immediately follows the MC's conversation with Liam and Madeleine (and mind you, in the option where the MC can tell her she was set up, Madeleine herself voices disbelief of the same. Conveniently, this is never used as a reason to hate her). Both women let the MC know of their change in status, and therefore the change in their relationship with her.

What gets missed overall, is that Kiara is a lady-in-waiting (which is an actual role with specific duties) to Madeleine, which means her loyalty now has to lie with this woman whether she likes it or not. For her to even agree to approach the MC and explain the situation, is a risk. In at least two dialogue options in this scene, she tells the MC straight-up that they will be in trouble if they're even seen talking to her (this becomes a moot point by Ch4, mostly because Madeleine herself is shown talking to the MC and allowing her into conversations in public, once Hana arrives).

Penelope is often viewed in a better light in this scene because of her obvious friendliness and her sadness at no longer being the MC's friend, but once you have the reveal of her being a traitor, her behaviour in this scene seems wildly disingenuous, and I'm surprised more people didn't call her a fake when the reveal came out. She had to know the allegations against the MC were fake when she rushed to hug her, having been an integral part of that fabrication. It makes her lament when she's caught, in the failplay, ("I can't do anything right. You were never supposed to find out!") that much more chilling. She is eager to have the benefit of the MC's friendship and emotional support, without ever being honest about her role in smearing her reputation.

The other was that - no matter what you may choose to think of this scene - Kiara was placing herself at risk to let the MC know it was over. Approaching the MC was the right thing to do, but what is never spoken about is the fact that it was also a brave thing to do. Rather than ghost the pariah of the court and never give an explanation, she tells her honestly what the situation is, and strives to protect her impulsive friend (who could get both of them in trouble) at the same time.

When you view Kiara's actions from that lens - when you look at the facts - suddenly the claims that Kiara was "fake", "a flip-flopper", "a backstabber", "unscrupulous and self-serving", sound pretty hollow.

TRR2: The Drake x Kiara "Romance" Begins...and So Does the Vitriol

So...an interesting thing about the general reaction to Kiara in the early chapters of TRR2. I was new to the fandom when this book was released. There was an annoyance at Kiara when the first chapter came out, but to my surprise it didn't exactly become full-blown hatred until she started showing an interest in Drake in Ch 3.

This book is often used as a reference by Drake stans when they speak of Kiara as an obsessed, stalker-type, sex-hungry woman - often in contrast to their "pure", "innocent" MCs. Basically...the Jezebel. But the five scenes we see of this ship in the book itself tell a completely different story:

1. Drake Helps Kiara Lift A Heavy Beam (TRR2 Ch 3)

Chapter 3 is perhaps the first time we see an indication of Kiara's attraction to Drake on a physical level. The scene takes place at the barn raising, but only if we choose to stay with Drake over Hana for the barn raising activities. Kiara shows up in a rather pitiable state - her friend Penelope abandoned her for thirty whole minutes, leaving her to lift incredibly heavy beams alone. Drake helps Kiara and mildly chides her for not asking for his help, and Kiara stares at his bare chest, mesmerized.

She isn't exactly alone in this - the MC herself ogles at his bare chest at one point (if we go by the lines in the narrative that read "his muscles glisten in the sunlight" which is def from the MC's PoV). This scene was meant as fanservice for stans who wanted to drool over Drake's physique for a bit, and belatedly build up an alternative (at least for all three male LIs, they were trying to do this in TRR2).

The MC can either point out Kiara's obvious attraction towards Drake, or suspect her of being part of the plot. This will not be the last time the MC or the group will view her with suspicion, with little to no basis in fact. In the option that calls attention to Kiara's attraction to Drake, she is shown covertly sneaking a second look at him. Drake is shown with a visible discomfort at even the idea that Kiara could like him, one that only the MC notices considering she is working in proximity with him.

The reaction to this was instantaneous from several Drake x MC shippers. One or two glances at Drake's chest was enough for Drake stans to begin typing posts in capslock, screaming "BACK OFF KIARA HE'S MINE". The excuses given at the time were that the MC didn't get much opportunity to romance him (Drake was trying to refrain from kissing her in Ch 2 because he felt guilty), and largely-inaccurate judgements of Kiara's character. Jealousy of this kind is sometimes seen as the norm when you have a popular ship and a third angle is created, but this was about to take form in some...very disturbing ways in later chapters.

2. Kiara was Once Savannah's Friend/Kiara's long-standing crush on Drake (Ch 4)

A misconception I often see in the fandom (particularly in relation to how Kiara's feelings for Drake aren't given the same level of consideration that Olivia's for Liam is) is that Olivia's are "more genuine", and Kiara's are "mere lust" or "only physical" and this is probably why she's not given as much respect as Olivia was. Even though, tbh, Kiara was far, far more respectful of Drake and his personal space, than Olivia was of Liam in TRR1.

Leaving aside the obvious problems with that train of thought (viewing sexual feelings as "lesser" just because they're not rooted in some intense emotion), this is not even true, and the first part of the Driara garden party scene is proof enough. Kiara says, straight up, that Drake had been "such a good friend to [Liam]. It's part of why I always liked you." (Bold mine). If the MC voices doubts about this (likely incorporated for readers who would question it as a retcon...and it was a retcon since they didn't interact in TRR1), Kiara tells her that she doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve, which actually matches her practical approach to most things. In fact just a few scenes earlier, when the MC questioned her about wanting a husband (when she'd mentioned earlier about wanting to join the ministry), Kiara informs her that it would never hurt to have both. So it makes sense for her character if she's someone who kept her feelings for Drake a secret, especially while in a competition for winning the Crown Prince's hand. But we cannot, in any honest capacity, claim that Kiara's feelings for Drake weren't deep enough, or lasting enough, or genuine enough. At least based on the evidence we have.

Another point this scene brings up is Kiara's friendship towards Savannah. Up until this point, the only people who did reference her were Olivia, Drake and Maxwell - and Olivia's mockery of especially seemed to imply that the ladies of the court weren't very nice to her. Kiara's account is very different from this, and actually quite affectionate ("she was one of us", "she was coming along so well in learning French"). It's not the closest friendship, but Kiara did care enough to tutor her in the language and clearly missed her. It is possible that this scene was positioned to both build up to the alternative romance and foreshadow Savannah's presence in Paris. There is a lot more that could have been done with this angle, but perhaps that is a discussion for another section.

3. Never-Have-I-Ever (Ch 9)

This is a small option in a drinking game - the MC can get to say "never have I ever had a crush on Kiara", and loses, because Drake says she isn't his type (ironically he claims he isn't her type in the next chapter). It's interesting that he does consider her as not as bad as some of the others in that group.

3. Flirting with Drake in Paris (Ch 10)

For five chapters, we don't see any more hints of this romance. We see Drake in plenty, and we see quite a bit of Kiara. But none of it shows them together.

Kiara's scene with Drake at the tea party, is in some ways a continuation of his diamond scene with Savannah. He knows now where his sister is and what her big secret was, but this scene is where he realises how little he actually knew about her, if even her "noblewoman friend" knew she had intentions to go to Paris and he, her brother, didn't. This scene also takes place at what I call a "rest period" in the story - the group has just come out of a high-intensity altercation with Bastien, and it is one chapter before the major reveal about Constantine. So the MC can relax a little, some of the loose ends of previous stories can be tied up, and we get a vibe check on at least two alternative ships.

Drake is rather civil to Kiara in this conversation, mostly because he's trying to get information about his sister out of her. There isn't much he contributes besides this - it doesn't seem to matter much to him that Kiara was a rare friend among the court to Savannah (tho TRR3 would later retcon this), and when she talks about herself he doesn't pay much attention. Kiara does make an attempt at a light flirtation which goes largely unnoticed.

The MC's response when she first sees them goes three ways - a neutral comment about the petit-fours, a "matchmake-y" comment that points to them that they "look cozy", and a "jealous" comment about interrupting them. The third one especially results in Drake inadvertently confirming he doesn't think of Kiara in a romantic light, and Kiara appearing disappointed. Remember, at this point she doesn't see much evidence that Drake and the MC romancing him are an item.

The follow-up conversation with Drake, too, follows along similar lines. The neutral comment just asks him about the information he gathered from Kiara, the "matchmake-y" one points out she has feelings for Drake and the "jealous" one is... something.

The third response is very obviously crafted for the more possessive Drake stans to get satisfaction from dissing Kiara, perhaps in a more aggressive way than the Maxwell stans could. While the Maxwell MC can pass an insult or two to discourage Penelope, the Drake MC will go as far as to tell him he belongs only to her, and can threaten to "push her into the petit-fours".

Ironically, this scene follows a scene with Olivia about her lingering feelings for Liam - and Olivia's grief, the MC's clear sympathy and Liam's concern for Olivia are all by default. There is a certain level of sensitivity the Liam MC is required to have for Olivia that is never once expected of the Drake MC, and that plays out in very dangerous ways in the next book.

This scene, again, brought forth rather violent reactions, and in fact the language of the MC's responses itself seemed to encourage that kind of response. A poster later compiled an entire set of these responses ranging from mocking, to "back off, Kiara!" to straight up demands for murder (I couldn't link to this post because the names of the people involved were included in it, but I do have quite a few of those screenshots for reference).

After this point, you don't see any more scenes where Kiara actively flirts. In fact for most of the second half you see her and Penelope very rarely. So it does feel really wild in retrospect that "obsessed Kiara" became such a popular interpretation, after one checking-out scene, one flirtation and one rather sweet and genuine compliment of him as a person.

4. Pranking Kiara (Ch 17)

A pattern you would have noticed by now is that there is a bit of a mean streak in Drake for Kiara that is either very dominant or latent, based on whether the MC tries to encourage him, or shows jealousy towards her.

And this isn't necessarily an indicator that he can never be interested in Kiara. A distrust for nobility is almost a norm for him at this point, and let's not forget that Drake's first few interactions with the MC too didn't exactly leave her with the best impression of him either. Kiara initially being on Madeleine's side at the beginning of the story could be a factor in some level of disdain too. Such complications could - in a good story - add layers to a potential romance in the future if that was the direction the writing was going for.

Around the MC who doesn't mind them as a pair, he shows a small sliver of an inclination towards Kiara herself. His response if the MC points out that Kiara was flirting with him (Ch 10) is that he doesn't believe he is Kiara's type, not the other way around. In this scene, a drunk Drake who is encouraged to write a "nice note" to her as a prank, can write "your hair is pretty and your French is totally not stupid". Both of these lines present a sign of a possibility that a romance could happen. His behaviour when an MC casually hints at this possibility, is of someone who may like this woman deep down, but show it in very strange ways (akin to the age-old metaphor of the "boy who pulls the pigtails of the girl he has a crush on"). They wouldn't have even needed to show his responses in this way if they weren't trying to hint at a possibility.

His response to a "jealous" MC is to delightedly bask in her possessiveness of him, and to go hand-in-glove with her as she insults or suggests violence on Kiara in any way. Now one could perhaps headcanon this as a behaviour that comes from being unused to female attention focused on him, coupled with his affection for the MC - but when you take into account his behaviour towards Kiara herself in TRR3 as well, there seems to be a blatant lack of consideration or compassion towards her as a human being. Compare this, again, to the way Liam's behaviour towards Olivia is written in canon, and interpreted by the fandom. Liam is expected to be kind to her, even if he's clueless about her feelings or if she is harming him (eg. Even when she kisses him, he cares enough to opt for a reaction that will not publicly humiliate Olivia).

Not so for Drake. He is very happy to follow in the MC's lead, even in hurting Kiara. And in this scene, he pretty much kickstarts it with the suggestion of a prank.

Drake knows where Kiara's room is (thanks to a nameplate on the door, and the familiarity of the hallway, which he likes for the view outside) and wants to prank her. The MC can either accept or refuse. If she accepts, there is one nice option, and two distinctly mean-spirited ones. The first proposes to mess up her book organizational system, and the narrative describes the attempt as "ruining any semblance of order to Kiara's bookshelves". These are materials she likely requires for her career as an aspiring diplomat, or even books she uses to update herself on the world. But to this MC and Drake, her work and interests are little more than a joke.

The second one is not only aggressively mean - it also is an attempt to ruin her personal space with her personal items. Going by the array of haircare the narrative mentions, maintaining her hair is very important to Kiara (I am not equipped enough to speak about black women and their relationship with their hair, but this option did make me very uncomfortable, because of the little I've seen on how essential regular haircare and good products can be for many black women). Not only does the MC suggest using all that product to render Kiara's bed practically unusable, she also insists Drake waste the full bottle of said product. Because, yknow. "It's a prank. Go big or go home". Drake has one moment where he tries to be less mean in this option (when he attempts to use less of her hairspray), but the moment the MC encourages him towards a crueller direction he does not hesitate. In fact, when the MC first suggests this option, he regards her with something approaching awe, and praises her as "an evil genius".

There's a mean streak in Drake here no matter which option you choose. If you do go for the nicer one, he complains at first that it's not exactly a prank and in fact does claim that they "could still put glitter in her cupboard" as an alternative prank. But the other two options encourage the player to give full vent to whatever underlying frustration/enmity/hatred one could possibly have against Kiara, goading a drunk Drake to be merciless towards the things in her room, in her absence.

Maybe, perhaps, one could just view this as a "fun vent" for the "possessive stans". It allowed the Drake MC and her LI the chance to gang up on her, mock her and cause her discomfort through things that were clearly important to her, treat her like the butt of their joke, and get away with it. When you encourage that kind of hatred with your writing, it can go into some very dark, disturbing places. And it did, especially in TRR3.

The overall response to this scene didn't show much, since it was just one small sequence in a larger scene - and most of the focus was on the heartfelt bonding between Drake and the MC when he takes her to his "special hideout" and his reveal about his motives behind calling the MC by her surname.

Many Drake stans, however, took note of this specific section, and took their interpretations in a completely different direction. Questions were asked about why Drake knew about Kiara's room - completely ignoring that he frequented the hallway regardless for its view and her nameplate is literally placed outside her door - and several fans suspected the two to be involved in an affair just on the basis of him knowing where her room was. These suspicions, again, would crop up from the fandom in a more dramatic way in TRR3.

5. Drinks at Homecoming Ball (Ch 19)

This scene takes place in the finale, just before Kiara and Penelope apologize jointly to the MC for their comments in the beer garden.

Drake is, quite predictably, at the bar in this scene. In some ways one could draw a parallel between this one and the "bar" scene between him and the MC in TRR1 - the only differences being that the two were alone in the first, and that he and the MC are free to romance each other now. However this time, the two ladies of the court could also communicate with him about drinks, and he could use his knowledge of alcohol to guess their preferences.

The scene with Kiara is, again, written to be both a possible sign of familiarity and a diss (mostly the second, I think). With Penelope he just vaguely mentions cocktails and focuses on the decoration for the drink - with Kiara he is able to name the specific wine even though in TRR3 he has no idea what tannins are. There are ways one could envision that as a sign that he notices more about Kiara than he lets on.

The diss, of course, comes with his claim that no matter how top-shelf the wine is, it will still always be "old grape juice" (which is a very strange thing to say because most alcohols are fermented from basic ingredients be it fruit or grains - where did he think his high-quality whiskey that he regularly carries around in his personal flask came from??).

Kiara's attempt to impress him is pretty obvious, but the diss isn't something that weighs too much on her mind. There are less indicators here of a dejection if he brushes her aside, unlike the scene in Ch 10 - she just looks a bit surprised he could guess the exact drink she wanted. Kiara in this scene is more likely to shift gears to something more important. In this case, that is apologizing to the MC for what she views as poor behaviour that sprung up under the influence of alcohol, and offering her an olive branch (the specific apology is for her asking the MC if she came to gloat, not for telling her the alliance was over at the beginning of the tour. In that scene specifically she feels she has nothing to apologise for, and I'm inclined to agree for the reasons I stated in that section).

The overall pattern for this ship seems to indicate that it's...kinda there in case the MC doesn't want to pick Drake, but I always feel like they focused a lot more on the jealousy options and didn't spend enough time to see what a possible relationship could look like. They do claim later that Kiara's affections were supposed to be one-sided, but the buildup at least seemed to indicate some small baseline of interest from Drake's end, even if shown in some rather bizarre ways. However, because there seems to be very little respect for this character already, having the MC threaten violence and having her and Drake overreact over what were essentially harmless interactions from Kiara's end really does indicate that the writers didn't mind taking potshots at her whenever they felt like it. Like I've said before, the trashfire that was Kiara's treatment in TRR3 didn't develop overnight.

Smart, Skilled...Disliked?: Kiara and the Writing Team in TRR3

On 25th Sept 2023, PB released a two-chapter series on Storyloom called "Choices Secrets", which involved at least three writers (Andrew, Kara and Chelsa) talking about ideas and plots and backstories that didn't make it to the released book. In one section, Kara Loo speaks specifically about the ending of TRR2:

According to this account, the original idea was to kill off Olivia and possibly use that as a segue into the Nevrakis plot of the book, since her aunt and Justin were the real villains at the end of the series. When they decided to keep her alive in the series, Kara mentions finding "more members of your group get injured, like Drake".

Interestingly, Kara referred to "members" in the plural, and Drake is the only person from the core group to get shot. So it's just as possible that the choice to have Bastien, Justin/Anton and Kiara sustain injuries, was made once they decided to do away with the storyline about Olivia's death.

Olivia got spared because her writers cared for her. Kiara was likely one of the people injured in her stead, and probably the only one out of them (except for the one who was the main villain) who wasn't getting a prominent scene that focused on her being a survivor of the attack until some readers protested (the entire intro of TRR3 was dedicated to Drake recieving tender care from the MC, Bastien gets showered with concern and care from Constantine, Liam and optionally the MC. The MC comes to the estate, makes a perfunctory mention of the injury once and proceeds to emotionally blackmail Kiara into joining the tour. Let's not even talk about Lythikos. That shit warranted its own essay). No matter how much you downplay the situation, the truth is that Kiara got grievously hurt in a terrorist attack and her writers didn't think it was important enough to address.

I often wondered in the beginning, why Kiara was chosen for this. A close friend at the time theorized that perhaps it was done to ensure Madeleine would become our press secretary, because there was no way the MC would be considering her for this position if someone less hostile (like Kiara) was around. Another wondered if we might get opportunities to address palace security through the experiences of the survivors. Being a Drake x Kiara supporter at least by the end of TRR2, I wondered whether it was a coincidence that they both were injured at the same ball, and the possibility of the two bonding over such a painful experience.

Well. Boy was I about to be disappointed.

Because why did Kiara have to be so badly injured, if it was going to amount to nothing? If they weren't even going to address it in her own home? If - after even players who didn't care much for her, noticed the silence around that attack - the best you could offer was a scene that followed the MC and her friends suspecting the victim of this attack??

Had I looked at Kiara's narrative treatment (from TRR1 onwards) closer back then, perhaps I wouldn't have expected so much. It would have occurred to me that maybe they hurt Kiara the most, because they cared for her the least. Kiara is viewed as smart, poised, talented. Madeleine even calls her "one of the more competant courtiers" at some point. But that doesn't always mean that the team that writes her deems her worthy of respect.

For one, the writers tend to lean more into fandom perceptions of her in this book, rather than looking at their own canon. Kiara being a snob is not canon - that is ridiculous considering that she was such good friends with Savannah, and her support of the MC when she fits in well. Kiara acting like her linguistic skill makes her better than anyone else isn't canon either - nor is she obliged to speak in all ten languages on a loop just for the MC's or Maxwell Beaumont's entertainment. Kiara being perpetually mean to her best friend is inaccurate at best - she is often frustrated by Penelope, sure, but she spends far time and energy helping her than anyone else in that court.

Yet the narrative gives both these statements as dialogue options for the MC, where she can bitch about Kiara...but somehow only ever allows the same MC to be nice and caring and loving to Penelope - never once reminding her of the hell she'd put the MC through in the past. And because the fandom expected the Kiara-Penelope friendship to focus only on Penelope, PB got away with having Kiara's "best friend" stay conveniently silent as the MC berated her in her own home. The narrative even threw Kiara under the bus in TRR3 Ch 16, in order to make Madeleine look better in Hana's memories of the TRR2 bachelorette, claiming falsely that Kiara shouted at Penelope so much while drunk, that the latter was brought to tears. There is way more energy spent in painting an inaccurate and negative portrait of Kiara, than there is in showing the truth.

For another, the way the courtiers' and their parents' agreement to join the tour is coded...is extremely suspicious. When you compare both a successful and a failplay, you will find that all the parents have the chance to reject the MC's proposal to join the tour...except for one. Kiara's father, Hakim. In a failplay where you purposely do all the wrong things...out of the entire group of people who are still doubtful about supporting you, only Kiara and Hakim join your tour by default, without any expectation of a reward (Madeleine demands her own department after the wedding). They will be a part of it no matter what you do, no matter your failures, no matter how badly you treat them.

Hakim may have joined mainly to confront his old friend the King, but he still stays on even after Constantine dies. The writers made sure to branch-code things in a way that Kiara and Hakim could never drop out even if the MC was awful to Kiara, and never once acknowledged what it must take for them to do that. After Kiara herself had been fucking stabbed!!!!

Joelle, Kiara's mother, and Ezekiel, Kiara's brother, can reject the offer if they aren't impressed with the MC, but out of these two characters only one is viewed with respect - the one they were going to pair up with Penelope.

The narrative doesn't mind letting the MC mock Joelle for her passionate support of the arts if she doesn't win her approval, and her insistence that it is the sign of a thriving kingdom...and they make her sound petulant and churlish in response to that mockery. This despite the fact that in a successful route, she says one of the most profound political statements in the books:

"Hakim and I don't just want Cordonia to remain stable and peaceful. Those are blessings, naturallement, but our kingdom can do so much more than just survive."

In contrast, when you look at the same failplay, Emmeline and Landon are treated with far more respect from the narrative, even though Hakim and Joelle's plans for the country would benefit Cordonia as a whole. Drake looks up to Penelope's parents as an inspiration, especially if he's going to become a duke. Meanwhile Hakim actually acknowledges Drake and his bravery in a way that none of the other dukes and duchesses did, and Drake never gives a shit.

Emmeline can accuse the MC of not taking their situation seriously, if she does a bad job at the polo match, and the MC only has the grace to look contrite rather than lash out at her. Landon himself is never judged for coddling his daughter the way he does. Their focus on Portavira rather than the country is respected, and the MC not meeting their demands is viewed as her weakness, not an overreaction from their end. They never get the snarky responses Joelle gets, where the MC can outright call her "a handful" in front of her own husband.

And then there is the matter of how PB deals with the problems of all the court ladies.

(Screenshots from the Skylia YouTube Channel)

The period of the Unity Tour isn't exactly an easy time for anyone. The LIs each deal with their own shit, and the ladies of the court themselves have their own reasons for being reluctant to return. The entire point of this tour is to address their specific concerns as well as that of their families', because without the courtiers themselves we wouldn't have as strong a court.

In Madeleine's case, we have to talk to her through a diamond scene and then educate her mother on her ways of mourning lost opportunities, among other things. In Penelope's case we are required to give her complete protection and emotional security, for her to even bother joining the tour (there is branch coding where she can refuse to be a part of the tour at all). Even for Olivia - who is already an ally - the diamond scene encourages us to stand up to her aunt, by letting Olivia know that it is valid for her to lean on others for support without being considered weak.

But for Kiara? The best we can come up with, while in her duchy, is some version of - "You're smart. You'd know that if you left now, people will say bad things about Cordonia and then it would be your fault". You either manipulate her, or insult her as being a useless excuse of a diplomat. As I mentioned in another essay, Kiara's comfort is a non-factor. The gap between the care we were expected to give to Madeleine and Penelope, and what we deign to give Kiara in Castelserraillan (which is...well...nothing), is massive. And this gap would only increase - not reduce - in the books to come.

It might seem a bit irrelevant to talk about this, especially when this essay is about Drake and Kiara. But it's important to take note of this inherent disdain the writers had towards this one character - and people close to her. Because it is only too easy to pretend that the writers "got scared of the crazy stans".

Of course the stans had a huge, huge role in this. Of course their vitriol and racism succeeded in bringing about (what I consider) one of the most disgusting dialogue options in this series...or perhaps in any series. But I doubt those "crazy stans" would have gotten this far, without a team that didn't mind being cruel to Kiara.

When the Fandom and Canon are both Heartless: Drake and Kiara in TRR3

As I've mentioned in previous essays in this series, playthrough divergences truly begin in TRR3 (eg. While the playthroughs acknowledge who you chose as endgame by end-TRR2, you can still access diamond scenes through a small tweak that allows you to romance other LIs). And whichever LI didn't get engaged with the MC had indications of a new romantic possibility coming up. These were scenes you wouldn't find in your own playthrough with that LI as your fiancé/e.

Kiara doesn't appear in TRR3 until Ch 7, when the entourage comes to her estate Castelserraillan. There aren't a lot of Drake and Kiara scenes themselves, and I will get into why, section by section.

1. Kiara Greets the Group at Castelserraillan (TRR3 Ch 7)

Many Drake stans - once they found their MCs engaged to Drake in TRR2 - seemed to be practically giddy at the prospect of showing off their newly-engaged status to Kiara, and hurting her through the news. They were perhaps more excited about this than their upcoming wedding.

Well, they got that chance in Ch 7. In every other playthrough, she still holds the same feelings for Drake, and compliments his suit as Drake awkwardly fails to meet her eye. In his specific playthrough, Drake defiantly shows off his relationship with the MC, and Kiara shows a slight wistfulness before she forces herself to be normal then wishes the happy couple well. You'd think that would be enough to satisfy the stans who had been baying for her blood all of the previous book.

A throwaway line about Drake knowing where Kiara's room was, had already raised the heckles of a whole bunch of his stans. Kiara's "wistful look" in her first TRR3 scene somehow added fuel to that fire. Suddenly, you got to see a raging torrent of posts demanding to know if Drake had had an affair with Kiara. Fanfic had already been written about Drake cheating on the MC with Kiara by this point - and some of those headcanons and fanfic hinged on making Drake the innocent/vulnerable one, taken advantage of by this sexy, obsessed woman who would be either a danger to him or would be juxtaposed with the "pure", "virginal", "perfect" MC. Drake would never be the problem here, and none of the stans screaming over the possibility of Drake sleeping with Kiara would dream of blaming him for it. No, Kiara was predatory, Kiara was obsessed, if anything happened between them it would be likely Kiara's fault.

This is where it's important to note, again, that none of the more obvious signs of the "Jezebel" stereotype seem to be used in canon for Kiara. While cruel in her own way, the TRR MC doesn't exactly slut shame her or believe Drake will be unfaithful to her, Kiara isn't accused of seducing (or even trying to seduce) anyone, and she actually places respectful personal boundaries for herself in her attraction to Drake, that she never crosses. She may indulge in a light flirtation with him, try to impress him or simply talk to him - but you will never catch her forcing her sexual attention on him like Olivia did with Liam. Yet in popular fanlore, even Olivia's feelings were often cast in a far more noble light in contrast to Kiara's.

In her essay, The "Offending" Breast of Janet Jackson: Public Discourse Surrounding the Jackson/Timberlake Performance at Super Bowl XXXVIII, Dr Shannon. L Holland explores the historical and contemporary uses of the Jezebel stereotype in depictions of Black women in popular culture and discourse, especially in contrast to white masculinity (which in these contexts, is often viewed as innocent and blameless - and much of the blame lies with the Jezebel figure). The "Jezebel" stereotype "has come to symbolize both a malign, cunning sexual object and an autonomous, liberated sexual agent" - she is at once an independent sexual being making her own choices, and someone who is "incapable" of reining in her sexual appetite...and is therefore often depicted as not only a threat to the "purer" (and often "whiter" or "lighter skinned") woman, but also dangerous for whoever she is "obsessed" with. And we see this time and again in the discourse around Kiara - the fanfic that depicts her in a range of scenarios (stalker, obsessed lover, abusive girlfriend who will break a bottle over Drake's head, at times even descending into murderer to get the man she wants). Which is how we wound up in a position where Kiara even breathing the same air as Drake was viewed as a threat.

It didn't matter that he was flaunting his love for the Drake MC in that playthrough to send a message to Kiara, or that he stayed silent with the others as his wife badgered her into joining the tour. It didn't even matter that Kiara never got a diamond scene the way the two other women did, despite being the most harmed among the ladies. What mattered was that Kiara existed. Her damn existence was the threat.

2. Cheering for Drake's Victory (Ch 10)

Ch 9 of TRR3 was released to players on April 27th, 2018. Immediately after, a mid-book hiatus was announced, mostly to work on some new art (very possibly the red pandas), work on the wedding, and make changes (such as shifting diamond scenes from character-centric ones to LI specific - they'd already started making changes to LI diamond scenes). The book would return 2 months later, in June.

In a livestream before the hiatus ended, the writers had made it very painfully clear that Kiara's feelings for Drake was one-sided. And by that I mean they really emphasized on the one-sidedness of her affection, almost as if to reassure the panicking stans. This would manifest in any future interactions between the two - both in Drake's single and engaged playthroughs - and any hope that such a pairing would even be hinted at was over. But there was one variation that the team had perhaps neglected to edit out.

A small one-word depiction of Kiara cheering Drake when he wins his duel against Neville, joining his friends to praise him. It really isn't much - just Kiara saying "bravo!" before Savannah rushes up to hug him, which is replaced by a scene of Drake himself going up to the MC and passionately kissing her in his own playthrough. What is definitely striking about this depiction is that Kiara was clubbed with his close friends and his sister, rather than the second group of people that largely represented the larger court (Rashad and Queen Regina) who offer their congratulations.

Given the way the writers wrote any remaining interactions between Drake and Kiara, and the fact that this small appearance doesn't really amount to anything, it is possible that this variation was part of an earlier draft that involved other hints, that the writers failed to notice when they put up Ch 10. If they had, I'm pretty certain it wouldn't have stayed in the book.

3. Leaving Court + Wedding Conversations

Remember how I kept stating in this essay that the narrative was going to take their enthusiastic pandering of the "possessive stans" end of the fandom, to some dark, disturbing places? Well, here we are.

Tbh, the writers could have just stopped showing any interactions between the two, or given Kiara another boyfriend if their aim was simply to show that Drake and Kiara would never be endgame. They had done that with Maxwell and Penelope already...oh. I forgot. They actually wanted us to care for Penelope.

Up until this point, Drake's mean streak re: Kiara was present, but not really as obvious as it gets here. PB takes that cruelty several steps further in these two chapters, starting with Ch 11. Ch 11 was fanservice to the people who shouted abuses and "joked" about killing Kiara in every chance they could get. Ch 12 showed this sentiment at its worst, covered it up with enough fluff so it would be harder for people who liked Kiara to notice...and let those players get away with it.

In Ch 11, Kiara approaches the MC and her group to inform them that she is withdrawing from the tour. Drake is the first to respond to this, remaking at the suddenness of the departure. The MC can speculate on a couple of things, ranging from sympathy (that she might be afraid), selfishness (that she is "bailing out" on the MC) and suspicion (that she is hiding something).

In all three options, a pensive Hana expresses sympathy and encourages the group to "reach out". In all three options, Drake will only view Kiara as a suspect.

Mind you - according to Ch 12, Drake is saying this knowing Kiara was injured at Homecoming Ball...and knowing exactly which weapon she was injured with. Aware that she has gone through an event as traumatic as that (if we go by his "just one step at a time" monologue to Kiara), better aware than most how it would feel...he still opts to act like her motives should be suspicious.

This is further emphasized in the Drake playthrough, through the armory scene that the MC takes with Maxwell.

As I've mentioned in the post on this scene, it is divided into three halves. The first half deals with whoever the MC rejected (either Liam, or Drake in Liam's playthrough). The third is buildup to Lucretia's plans to usurp the throne. The second is supposed to be about the excitement among the members of the court for the wedding, and of course as the only people who come for the tour by default (and Madeleine is already taken for the first scene), Kiara and Hakim are used for this scene!

I will only focus on the Drake version of this scene today. There are a few things you notice straight off the bat:

1. Since this is Drake's playthrough, the narrative seems to do away completely with any lingering feelings Kiara may have had are done away with. In this scene she is quite happy about Drake's wedding - in fact, practically chipper. Literally nothing about her behaviour here serves as a reminder that she once had feelings for him.

2. Drake's response to Kiara attending his wedding ties in pretty well with his earlier default suspicion of her. Unlike Hana who is surprised but also happy that Kiara is attending, he seems to voice it as a doubt or a question. While that makes sense and there is continuity, it's pretty awful that he is allowed to suspect her like this and feel no remorse when the truth about her is revealed.

3. Now as I said in the post, this scene is meant to be a buildup to Drake's ice-palace scene. He speaks about wanting a private, country-style wedding in a natural place there, and Kiara's gentle teasing in this scene is supposed to be an indicator of how much he dislikes the usual fanfare. Okay. Fair enough. You're uncomfortable with the fancy decorations and the insane planning, fine.

4. But it's Drake's attitude towards Kiara in this scene that leaves a bad taste in the mouth (unless you were one of those Drake stans that liked to threaten murder on this character ig). The narrative really went out of their way to make him sound uncommonly angry with her, just for asking about his wedding. He angrily hisses at her to keep her voice down the moment she asks about the wedding, and then lashes out the moment she teases him about his love for the MC and his reluctance to be very public about it in that context. Of course, people who either liked Drake or hated Kiara would downplay this scene - either blaming Kiara for not magically knowing his likes or dislikes, or acting like Drake's behaviour in this scene is no big deal.

And his explanation in the ice palace scene really doesn't cut it as a reason for why he should be this pissed off at Kiara's excitement. There is no real bitterness or resentment tied in with the fancy trappings that are mentioned in that specific scene - it's just that he likes simplicity better. If Kiara doesn't know him well enough to understand that - it's because he has never properly talked to her. She made attempts to converse whenever she could. You can claim he never owed her a conversation - but in that case she doesn't owe him a complete understanding of his wants either. He could have just politely answered the question and changed the subject, or quickly took his leave.

He is well-versed enough in court etiquette by this point that he could have managed to sound civil enough. That he could have made a quick, polite exit. But no, he gave her the kind of anger that one reserves for someone who is kicking a puppy or stealing candy from a child, instead. And it was Kiara's grace that allowed her to view that awful behaviour in a more positive light.

It's pretty clear this scene - and to some extent the framing of the next - was made specifically for those Drake stans who were screaming and throwing tantrums about a possible affair. It was to highlight that there was no way Drake could ever return Kiara's feelings - and the only way they could do that was by making sure he treated her as rudely and inhumanely as possible.

I didn't think it could get any worse than this, when I saw this version of the scene...but then I saw Ch 12.

The Talk

If you were to speak just about fandom reactions to this scene...the responses to Kiara chronicling her trauma after Homecoming Ball, were pretty positive. Plenty chose the middle option "You're suffering from the trauma of the event. You need help", and cooed over Drake's touching little monologue about "taking it one day at a time".

I admit at the time I was fooled too. But one thing did niggle at me as I played both this option, and the "understandably cautious" one (I would later understand that the latter was not very good either - it has a thin veneer of "validating" Kiara's feelings, but it still has the MC and Drake expecting her to put their needs before her own safety and sanity).

Drake was reassuring to an extent in both options, sure. But why were his responses so different? Why was his answer to Kiara so closely tied to whatever point the MC was making, rather than independent of it? After all, he was the one who should be able to better relate to Kiara - wouldn't he have thoughts of his own here? If the MC chose that horrible final option, Drake would correct her and comfort Kiara instead, wouldn't he? Wouldn't he???

It was only when I (reluctantly) pressed that third option ("not as driven as I thought you were") that I understood what Drake's role in this scene was.

He wasn't going to be there for Kiara. He wasn't even sympathetic to her! It wasn't even going to be about two traumatized people connecting over their trauma. Drake was a puppet. He was there to parrot whatever garbage came out of the MC's mouth.

Because in the third - and most horrific - option, the MC is allowed to minimize Kiara's trauma, and mock her ambitions in the face of what she has just gone through. Drake is allowed to agree with her ("sometimes ambassadors have to work in dangerous areas"). Kiara is forced by the same narrative to find value in these words.

And all of this, stems from a scenario where Drake and the MC go in suspecting this woman from the jump. Where Maxwell is happy to make jokes about her being a suspect. Where the only two decent people in this group - Liam and Hana - are conveniently written out of the scene, ensuring that these ghouls can act the way they want around Kiara, and get away with it.

Not once is Kiara herself ever allowed to know that the group suspected her by default, nor is she allowed to go through with her intention to leave court. The very roots of this scene are rotten.

Very often, when this scene in particular is addressed, not many people actually address Drake's behaviour here - or in the previous chapter. Stans will vaguely, and conveniently, blame the group as a whole rather than their favourites. Such a tactic allows them to never name the specific people or specific actions, and therefore the main people involved in speaking to Kiara the way they did never have to be held accountable. This is particularly relevant in the case of Drake.

It was Drake's idea to interrogate her. He was the one constantly harping about her "suspicious behaviour". He was the one aware of what happened to her yet chose to think of her as shady. He was the one who should have known better, yet was absolutely game to minimize her trauma or engage in emotional blackmail. And neither he nor the MC came out of this conversation feeling anything resembling remorse. Because, apparently, they never did anything wrong.

They got what they wanted. At best, Drake and the MC manipulated this woman (again) into returning to their court. At worst, they badgered and bullied her into that decision. Either way, she was going to return, and the narrative was going to pretend that the MC and Drake were great people for making it happen.

I have heard some justifications over the years for Drake's behaviour here. One is that he "tends to act like an asshole to everyone". Another is that Kiara is a noble so he was never going to see her in a positive light. Which is hilarious to me, honestly, because in the same book you have Drake reassure Penelope - the woman who had made the MC the target of a reputation-ending scandal - and comfort her when she sees Madeleine. If this was really about the chip on the shoulder he had for nobility, why was he so kind to Penelope? And if Penelope's mental health warranted a change in mindset and behaviour from Drake's end, why was Kiara not worthy of that as well?

The truth is this. Drake was allowed to express his mean streak to a black woman, bully a black woman (the pranks), lash out at a black woman (the conversation at the Lythikos Ball), suspect a black woman, and finally minimize her trauma if the Duchess he had a crush on wanted to. While being overly protective and chivalrous to the white woman who actually did harm her. No matter what way you spin it, that is what Drake's behaviour - especially in TRR3 - is.

The way the team trampled over this "pairing" post that miniscule hint in TRR3 Ch 7, would make a rampaging elephant look like a ballerina in comparison. They wanted to make it clear after the hiatus that Drake x Kiara would never happen, in any eventuality, in any future, in any universe. And no matter how much we pin this on "crazy stans" (who do hold some responsibility for sure, for their own veiled racism), it's a fact that the writing team was comfortable doing this. They had already found other ways to pile disrespect on their sole recurring black female character - what was a little more?

TRH and Beyond: Taking Away What Was Left of Kiara's Remaining Fanbase

Given all the narrative back-and-forth and shadiness, I'd have to say the end Kiara got in TRR3 was comparatively...decent. Not great...not exactly satisfying...decent.

Her fighting off the assassins at the boutique ("not again...not again!!") was the highlight of that scene. In Hana's playthrough, Kiara was her MOH by default, and the lines the MC could give if you chose her in other playthroughs was pretty sweet. At the end of the book, her father would make Kiara his heir, after her older brother Ezekiel abdicated. There were still things I was always going to hate (such as the fact that we could lie about "having Kiara's back" - we absolutely did not) about the aftermath, but all in all as a fan...I could maybe envision a fairly happy ending for her with what we got.

The next series, The Royal Heir, would debut on June 2019, almost a year after TRR3's own debut. This would be the first series that would go completely LI-divergent, spanning four books. It started out as an attempt to envision the future (and pasts) of the main characters, as well as tie loose ends...but descended into an incoherent, retconning mess with each book.

Kiara doesn't feature much in Book 1, but is pretty prominent in certain chapters like Ch 7 (Savannah's bachelorette), Savannah's wedding, and the Apple Ball in the finale. You'll often find a marked difference between the way she is looked at for most of the book, and how the MC speaks to her in TRH1's finale.

Savannah's bachelorette, for instance, features all the ladies of the court in Texas, with new "country" looks and engaging with Texan culture. Here, too, you see a sign of PB leaning into popular perceptions of Kiara rather than remembering their own writing, when we see how Savannah praises the MC by default but has very little to say about her former friend Kiara. Since Savannah's return to court in TRR3, the team seemed to have forgotten that other ladies of the court weren't very nice to her, and Kiara was the only one concerned for her. They have Olivia act sweet and caring towards Savannah in both TRR3 Ch 17 and TRH1 Ch 7, conveniently forgetting the insults she piled upon Drake's sister in the first book. Savannah never has to talk about Kiara's friendship at all, other than a teasing comment hinting at her French lessons. Savannah was never expected to have any gratitude or affection towards Kiara even though she was the only woman who cared about her in court before she left.

An interesting thing to note in the diamond scene of the bachelorette is the way the courtly ladies' previous/current "romances" are framed. Kiara's, in particular, warrants a lot of discussion. Unlike Olivia (who can address her feelings for Liam regardless of playthrough, if asked, and can actually show some level of resentment towards him for not picking her), Kiara's feelings are addressed only if the MC isn't married to Drake. If she is, Kiara mentions a fondness for "rugged, down-to-earth men" (which the MC and Penelope perceive to mean hunky and muscular), and avoids mentioning his name at all.

There are two very interesting things to note about this sequence. One is the pattern of how, and how far, are Olivia and Kiara are allowed to address their feelings for these men. Not only is Olivia allowed to be open about her feelings and her bitterness (despite Liam actually romancing her in TRR3!), the narrative demands our respect for her position and plight. The Liam MC lauds her honesty and her decision to move ahead, unfazed even by her anger for something Liam didn't even owe her. In contrast, in the Drake playthrough, the writing makes sure Kiara never mentions him by name. And not only that, when the MC and Penelope tease her about her romantic preference, she is shown to stammer and seems downright afraid of the MC.

The fact that there is such a gap in how Olivia and Kiara are allowed to act about the men they love, and the fact that this gap was normalized so much in fandom discourse that it didn't even warrant a discussion, tells us plenty about the fandom too. The fandom position has almost always been that Liam owes Olivia love, appreciation, kindness. And that Drake owes Kiara nothing, not even common human decency. Which is why the fandom wants Liam punished for the high crime of not loving Olivia back. Which is why Drake is allowed to treat Kiara like an irritating pest at his best, and like utter garbage at his worst...and almost no one so much as bats an eyelid.

Since most of the story of TRH1 seemed to revolve around the ranch, the ladies of the court made minimal appearances and most of those were in keeping with patterns established in TRR3 (except for maybe Olivia's spy scenes). Some of their parents - too - feature in Royal Council scenes: Godfrey and Landon are part of this council and are seen during the MC's announcement - no one from Kiara's family, besides her brother Ezekiel who is dating Penelope, make any appearances in this book. Towards the end of the book, however, you suddenly find a scene or two where the narrative is suddenly, and inexplicably, syrupy sweet to Kiara:

(Screenshots from the Skylia YouTube Channel. 1-5 are from Ch 18, during the council meeting. 7-10 are also from Ch 18, at the start of the ball. The last two are from the finale as buildup for the pregnancy photoshoot)

There are indications of Kiara's diplomacy and good advice in other parts of the book too (such as her suggestions for dealing with the foreign royals at the baby shower) but never were the praise and compliments as obvious as they were in the last two chapters of TRH1. Kiara was given a quippy dialogue to spout at Godfrey, who would later be revealed as the murderer of Queen Eleanor. All three of the MC's dialogue options in response would praise Kiara by default (a rarity). King Bradshaw would shower her with compliments too about her talent and expertise. And when Kiara approached us with an offer for a pregnancy photoshoot, the MC could cheerfully say "for you, Kiara? Of course!" as if they'd been bffs from the beginning.

There isn't any obvious reason why we saw this sudden change, but I can make an educated guess or two. A pattern that commonly emerges with attempts to address something that would benefit Kiara, is that the writers often only do it when enough people complain; that was how we got the horrible Lythikos sequence. Midway through TRH1, I managed to put up an essay exploring Kiara's treatment (centered around the Lythikos sequence in TRR3 Ch 12) in comparison to Penelope's and Madeleine's. It did not receive an immediate fandom wide response, but several readers did come away from that essay feeling like Kiara really got the short end of the stick, compared to all the other court ladies. I'm not sure whether that essay had a direct impact, but those three scenes PB added to the finale chapters do make me wonder. Was the team trying to prove to the fandom that they did like Kiara and wouldn't personally sabotage her, either for their own enjoyment or to pander to a section of the fandom?

If they did, then that plan didn't last beyond these two chapters.

Another possibility of course was to give Kiara something slightly positive before they did her dirty - again - in TRH2 and 3. Because in those two books, they managed to first make her - along with the rest of the council - party to a vote (that everyone was involved in, including the LIs!) that would later prove detrimental for the country. They would then have her be the only heir involved in the notorious Coventus Nobilis, which ensured that anyone who wanted to hate Kiara could tie her to her vote in favour of Bartie Sr, without ever asking any further questions. This was a far more successful attempt, because most of the fandom already believed the misconceptions of Kiara's characterization to be truth, and these storylines simply added fuel to the fire.

Kiara's biggest supporters tended to be a section of the Liam fandom, as well as wlw stans who tended to like most of the courtly women. Having her vote for Bartie at the end of TRH2, and her explanations in TRH3 about the "MC's ruling style" (which was really canon's way of making sure she did more a silent diss on Liam) was written specifically to place a serious dent among her fans who liked Liam. And sadly, it worked in part. Because even if one considered Kiara's thoughts on "reactive ruling" accurate, it was a fact that the nobility (she included) would have to be blaming Liam for something that the entire Council voted for, and that Liam and his friends fixed on their own.

Making Kiara the lone person to voice this argument, made her a target in this fandom. I mean, people were ready to praise Madeleine and speak of her as loyal (eagerly ignoring that she was actively involved in the child's kidnapping if you didn't coddle her enough), and badmouth Kiara in the same breath, claiming that Kiara wasn't worth forgiving and people should just get over Madeleine's deeds in the past.

This resurgence of hate didn't just erupt out of nowhere. Once they finished spending two chapters on two-second compliments to Kiara, PB reverted in the next two books to some of their usual patterns with her. For instance, remember how I mentioned that PB had an obsession with never letting Kiara and Liam interact? In TRH, they repeated this pattern, but with the Heir. The only scene Kiara has where she can so much as touch the heir is in the last part of TRH3, if you choose for Kiara to read to her. Penelope is regularly allowed to hold her even though she has often placed this child in dangerous situations (on one occasion, Kiara herself had to stop her) - even Madeleine is given an entire babysitting scene to win her favour. But Kiara is the only lady of the court who is made to stay away or care for the child from a distance.

Kiara's family (besides Zeke, and just because he is Penelope's fiance/husband) is subject to disrespect in this book too. Hakim and Joelle were both conspicuously absent from the pregnancy announcement presscon in TRH1 (where Landon, Godfrey and Bartie Sr somehow featured!!), and future books would either retcon the family or force them to do things the other families didn't have to do. In TRH2, the MC takes a tour of the Great Houses with her newborn daughter, and each house is expected to pledge loyalty to her and the crown in different ways. Hakim is written as "bending to his knees" for the child. This is something only Adeleide and Madeleine - whose house, might I remind you, are considered the house of traitors at this point - have to do. Landon and Emmeline are never expected to express their loyalty to this extent.

In TRH3, the narrative callously pushes the Therons under the bus to make the Ebrim family's reluctance to help the MC make sense - the Therons are now "traditionalists" who frown upon scandals and may not allow Zeke to marry Penelope on the account of her past annulled marriage (this makes no sense when you take a closer look at the Therons themselves in TRR3 - they're a far more balanced, far more progressive family than any of the other Great Houses. They even took Zeke's abdication well!). Furthermore, you'll notice that the framing of Penelope's past with Guy is worlds apart from the disdain the narrative shows for the Therons during the flower festival. It is notable that in the latter, the black women are depicted very negatively - Kiara is shown unable to manage her own competition, Joelle is depicted as pompous and incapable of losing gracefully, Drake gets to take sarcastic potshots at Lerato for trying to charm the MC into voting for her and Drake into convincing her to vote. Meanwhile white people like Landon and Marguerite are presented in a just as humourous but less mocking light (eg. Landon moving his table courteously before flipping it in the flashback).

Even into TRF (Ch12), the narrative gives us choices where we can stand up to people criticizing Landon and Emmeline's parenting ("Duke Landon and his wife raised a kind, generous daughter..."). We are allowed to be far less critical of the Ebrims overall, we are allowed to be more charitable even in the dialogue options for suspecting Landon than we are of Kiara (think of how Maxwell can suspect that Kiara was planning to betray us all along). At the end of the Flower Festival, Kiara is made to appear contrite as the MC can choose to either demand she make this right before the latter can forgive her, or indicate that she never will. Ironically, a Penelope who can choose her fancy wedding over the safety of the MC's child never has to face words that harsh.

You will also notice if you look more closely, that the narrative continues to frame events surrounding Penelope and Kiara in opposing ways. Penelope is perpetually viewed as a victim, and Kiara constantly as a suspect.

We are expected to support Penelope, and to mistrust Kiara. And even though Kiara's feelings had long since become a thing of the past, Drake still maintains his animosity towards her and her family. And like everything else, it is so normalized at this point that you barely even notice it anymore.

In TRH2, Drake is allowed to tar all nobles with the same brush because of Godfrey's actions. Though his statement about the nobility ("We can't trust any of them to have Liam's back...not unless it's in their own selfish interests") is about the entire nobility, it is striking that he says this just before they go to Castelserraillan. The Therons are also the only noble family that Drake makes sarcastic comments about (in reference to Liam informing us that their province is a trade hub, Drake quips that "they are going to want to trade babies with us"). These snide comments he rarely makes about other noble families, and serves as a sharp contrast to how he treats the Ebrims (during Penelope's wedding festivities, he is unnaturally invested in Penelope getting a happy ending with Ezekiel). We can't even claim that his behaviour towards Kiara is in line with his disdain for nobles, because Penelope is proof that he is perfectly capable of showing compassion to most of them!

TRH3 ends with Kiara doing an apology tour of sorts - diplomatic missions aimed at improving Cordonia's international relations. TRF finds almost all the ladies of the court - even Olivia - in very minimal roles, as the focus shifts to the Via Imperii. Still, the narrative makes more references to Penelope than to Kiara, to the extent that the epilogue ends on both the MC and Penelope celebrating their pregnancies (Penelope's first and the MC's second) together.

Overall, you will find that the narrative repeated certain patterns with Kiara - the tendency to find her suspicious, purposely limiting scenes with important characters like Liam (TRR) and the heir (TRH) while the white courtiers get almost unlimited access, the discrepancies in expectations for her vs other ladies (eg. Madeleine is hailed for being "good" even though that is solely dependent on how you treat her. Kiara is largely ignored whenever she does help, and attacked when she is written to support the enemy). Drake - even as a former alternative to her, who should have gotten over whatever nonsense beef he'd had with her earlier - is allowed to make snide remarks about her home and family.

It's pretty clear they could do this because they could get away with it... because most of the fandom made it so easy for them to get away with it.

Fandom

When I look back at how the perception of Kiara in the fandom progressed over the years, I find it half-amusing, half-sad how much of it is rooted more in fanlore, and how little in actual fact. And this is something you couldn't just pin on "crazy Drake stans" - they were the biggest promoters of these lies and misconceptions, sure, but normally analytical, commonsense readers often believed that Kiara was fake and a snob and awful to Penelope too.

I get some of it, given the timing of Kiara and Penelope's scene at the beginning of TRR2. It takes place at a low point in the MC's story, a time when she isn't even sure the LIs want to support her. Coupled with that is the lasting image of Penelope hugging you and complaining about Madeleine, making you feel like she's more willing to give you a sliver of solidarity. Coupled with that, is Olivia's newfound popularity in the fandom - once she emerges in Ch 5 of that book, fans believed they found their wildcard who would stand by them in complete solidarity among the ladies of the court (did they ignore Hana's already massive contributions to the investigation? Yes they did. Yes they did). Madeleine herself is shown giving quotable quotes about female solidarity and Tariq's guilt in TRR2 Ch 7, which - coupled with Justin's high praise of her - made people want to find things to like about her too. Penelope's own betrayal was overshadowed by an expectation to support a person with serious mental health struggles.

Kiara's the only one who doesn't get such backstories or explanations. So at least in the heat of the moment, in reading those chapters between weekly gaps, it makes sense that a false impression of her got somewhat solidified.

But when you build your interpretations out of lies and misinterpretations, how does it become so valid that even the writers bend to it and prefer to show that?

Every fandom has its "crazy stans". And this instance wouldn't be the first or last time they are pandered to. But when the same stans get backed up by the "saner", more commonsense members of fandom; when even neutral readers promote versions of a story without actually looking at the scenes in question - that's when a fandom is in danger of turning a "headcanon" into canon.

Kiara being a horrible friend to Penelope wasn't canon. Kiara being a snob was not canon. Kiara being creepy towards Drake wasn't canon either. Especially when you take the fandom response to Olivia's forced kiss on Liam into account.

And that brings me to another point. I had been asked once why I felt the need to compare Kiara to the other ladies in my defenses of her. It's important, when we speak of the kind of hate Kiara received, to understand how a lot of flaws that the entire court has (eg classism) is often pinned onto a lone person, and how several white female characters could get away with worse behaviour while Kiara alone was slammed for harmless interactions.

This is most apparent when you look at how Olivia's violation of Liam's consent is perceived, vs Kiara's harmless flirtation with Drake in TRR2. Which woman had fans foaming at the mouth and wanting to kill her? Which woman was given dozens and dozens of fanfic and content that depicted her as creepy, desperate, downright obsessed with their man? Which woman got the "oh well, he doesn't owe her anything 🤷🏽‍♀️" vs a "he doesn't love her back?? WHAT AN INSENSITIVE ASSHOLE!!1111"?

Perhaps this Olivia/Kiara comparison is where the fandom's tendency to cast Kiara into the Jezebel stereotype is the most visible. Kiara's very act of talking to Drake sometimes is registered as a threat to those stans, and it reflects in the way they speak of her, the way they speak of their MC's own relationship with Drake in association with her (eg. the number of posts rejoicing at the thought of showing off their "engaged to Drake" status at Kiara's estate), the way they're allowed to dehumanize her and villify her (eg. The edit I mentioned at the beginning). This is often encouraged by their friends who are fans of other characters, and you can see that in sharp contrast, Olivia - despite her actions in Book 1 and her resentment of Liam for not loving her back in other books - is still often viewed with sympathy and respect. Her feelings - still viewed as genuine, even pure. To the point where PB eventually allows Olivia to constantly address her feelings about the MC's and Liam's relationship, while forcing Kiara to not even utter Drake's name in his playthrough.

But you see this with other characters, and in other contexts too. Particularly how Madeleine can be duplicitous, hypocritical, and power-hungry, and it's Kiara who is called these things despite her actual honesty in canon. Madeleine can get away with actually helping Bartie Sr kidnap the MC's daughter in TRH3 without a murmur, in the same fandom where people can curse Kiara for voting for Bartie Sr "to take the child away" (despite her telling the MC and spouse that she was promised they would have custody of the child, therefore the claim that she "voted to take the child away from their parent" is inaccurate).

You saw some of these discrepancies in how Penelope and Kiara were spoken about too - Penelope's crime in TRR2 was considered easily forgiveable, while Kiara's innocence is constantly called into question. Kiara was often viewed negatively for what the fandom perceived as "meanness" to Penelope (when it was in fact Kiara worrying about how Penelope would fare when she wasn't around) while Penelope herself was never expected to be a good friend to Kiara. An interesting thing to note about the fandom response to Penelope and Kiara showed that often when posters wanted to hate on Penelope, she and Kiara would be clubbed together, almost as a unit. This was especially prevalent in TRH3. It was easy to express hatred for Kiara independently, but most posts that showed a dislike for Penelope (besides from specific Kiara stans) would often tie her with Kiara, as if there wasn't much to hate about her otherwise.

It is important to line up whatever hate Kiara gets with the responses to the other women - especially in the face of what the latter are allowed to get away with. In doing so, you get a better sense of what is allowed for a certain subset of women, and what isn't allowed or permitted for black women specifically.

Often, the fans who would not hesitate to call her alone fake, opportunistic and creepy were WOC, and there have been cases where some would use their identity as WOC to shield themselves from the criticism concerning their vitriol. It would often descend into "I don't hate her because she is black, I hate her because {insert inaccurate/false/convoluted justification here}". It didn't matter that much of this information wasn't based in fact, or had a heavy bias that they never applied to anyone else. It only mattered that because they were WOC, somehow that meant that they couldn't possibly be racist. That their unfounded hatred for Kiara had to be legitimate. As if there was no chance that someone who was WOC couldn't be antiblack too. I mean, the ultimate proof of this could be found in TRR itself - the two head writers of the TRR/H/F series' are Asian women - who have a pattern of liking mean (white) women, and who didn't mind throwing the black woman and her black family in their story repeatedly under the bus, who didn't mind minimizing and retconning the abuse and childhood trauma that the darker-skinned Asian woman in their story went through.

Overall, it is possible that the fandom did take some of their cues (for their impression of Kiara) from the inherent disdain found in canon itself. But many of them also misinterpreted several things about Kiara, then didn't bother to revisit those biases with a critical eye, or even try to see if they were wrong. And that baseless hatred fed the already-existing disdain that Kiara's own writers had towards her. Resulting in the kind of horrific, racist garbage that we got to see in TRR3, and the constant attempts in canon to pull her down in TRH.

Did Drake and Kiara Ever Have A Chance?

There have been various opinions - from both Kiara fans and haters - for why a Driara ship would never work. He hates nobles, she won't like his disdain for art and culture, he likes the simpler life, she's a snob...so on and so forth. Many people will agree it's not a great ship, but of course with differing opinions on why.

I, however, often wondered at possible scenarios where such a pairing could work. The magic of shipping is often that you can play around with personalities and pair almost anyone, and find enough reasons to explain why they would tick. And in Drake and Kiara's case, personally, I do feel like it's a complicated question to answer - primarily because I feel like the authorial intent at the beginning may have been very, very different to what finally happened in Drake's story.

A lot of Drake's early writing focused on the reasons behind his mistrust of the court and his tendency to view the people he loves who are part of it (eg. Liam and later the group) as anomalies. There are two ways you could take such a story in TRR2 - you could either get him to admit to the flaws in his own thinking (thereby providing a more nuanced insight) and allow him to grow from there, or you could just have him double down on his biases and never change beyond the superficial. The team of TRR - esp the head writers, Kara and Jen who were both v fond of him - definitely seemed to go in the latter direction.

Drake's prediction in Coney Island does indicate that he should let go of the past, and I honestly feel like the sequences where he learned about Maxwell straining House Beaumont's finances to help her, and Kiara and Savannah's friendship, could have been turning points for him if the writers weren't so obsessed with proving him right all the time - even when he was supposed to be wrong. Maxwell and Kiara, in their own ways, were proof that not every noble was the same, nor would every noble treat the commoners around them all the same way. However, the narrative trampled all over this possibility in TRR2 Ch 9, where Drake could optionally claim that the Beaumont brothers (among others) were "just looking out for themselves, no matter the consequences", or later when the narrative had Savannah be grateful to him for breaking her confidence to Bertrand, and have Maxwell try to earn his forgiveness in Ch 12 rather than the other way around. It allowed Drake to be selective about the nobles he admired or defended, while still free to treat certain others like garbage.

I could easily envision a Driara pairing for most of TRR2. I could even see it as potentially salvageable in certain parts of TRR3. But the moment they had Drake readily suspect her, the moment the team thought it would be okay for Drake to even suggest minimizing her trauma...that option was no longer worth seeing. Not for Drake, but for Kiara. Drake would have to be the worst possible guy I could find for her, in such a scenario.

But I could see potential in a storyline that had Drake understand that some of these people weren't the monsters he so desperately wanted them to be. In one where he could hear about Kiara's friendship with his sister, and learn about a whole new side of her. One where he maybe felt insecure ("I'm not her type") and could be reassured by a woman who had likely held a torch for him since they were teens/young adults. One where they could reach out to each other in their pain and trauma, and find solace. One where Drake knew that the family he may be marrying into would respect him, and his father too. There were possibilities there.

It would still take more work - his mean streak for one would need to be reduced by more than a half. A lot of it, of course, was kept for the Drake stans, but it really doesn't add much to Drake's character besides making him a mean-spirited, hypocritical bitch who only targets the lone black woman this way (and Olivia occasionally, if she goads him). If the narrative did want to keep a characterization where Drake acts weird around the girl he likes, they could - but that story would need a lot more work to be palatable.

All of this is to say that regardless of personal bias, there were possibilities there. There was a sliver of potential. And if they wanted to let go of that potential midway, they didn't have to go about that the way they finally did. They could have just worked on creating another love interest for her. They managed to create a brother for her overnight just so Penelope could have a boyfriend; they could have easily done the same for Kiara.

Multiple factors went down that explain why the Driara ship didn't take off. But many of them boil down to one specific root cause - the white women (whether they caused actual harm or not) needed to be protected, needed to be cherished. The black woman who dared to ask for the same things from their pet LI, would be viewed as a threat, a villain, a creep...just for breathing in his direction.

And her writers cared so little, that they took the fanon perception for her and stamped it onto their canon, like it was the truth.

They didn't do any of this for the woman who forced a kiss on a prominent LI. They didn't do this on the woman who betrayed the MC and set her up for assault. They didn't do this to the woman who bullied the lone female LI, and swore to continue doing so till she broke.

They did this for the one woman who was fairly innocent of most of these crimes, actually respected the LI and treated him well.

They did this because they could get away with it. Because they were confident that the fandom they wrote the story for, would let them get away with it. And tragically...they were right.

--

Resources I used to learn about the Jezebel stereotype:

The "Offending" Breast of Janet Jackson: Public Discourse Surrounding the Jackson/Timberlake Performance at Super Bowl XXXVIII by Dr Shannon Holland

Janet Jackson, Justin Timberlake, the Jezebel and white masculinity by Khadija Mbowe (I actually got the recommendation for the first paper from this video essay).

From Mammy to Jezebel: The Portrayal of Black Women in American Cinema from the BlackThen website

[extant-exhaustion]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "extant-exhaustion "?

Well, first of all, thank you so much for your patience! I know it took me seven weeks to reply to this Ask! I agonized over my list (also, the holidays happened, which kept me busy). But I finally narrowed it down, so here we go, in no particular order:

My Top 10 Favorite Fanfics

In Another Life by LittleLuxray Haikyuu!! | T+ | 23k | Bokuto/Akaashi | angst, sickfic | It's famous for a reason. Truly one of the best pieces of writing I've ever read, including published works—I've rarely cried so hard or been moved so much.

died in my dreams by MTrash Haikyuu!! | T+ | 10k | Ushijima/Tendou | futuristic/cyberpunk AU, opposites attract, reluctant work partners to friends to lovers | fantastic characterization, really cool conceptually, a story about trauma and healing and finding your person

the weight of water by wordstruck/@redluxite Haikyuu!! | M | 6k | Iwaizumi/Oikawa | angst | Painful, soul-crushing heartbreak, but so, so beautiful. As someone who's experienced loss and grief, this story is visceral and the accompanying art haunts me.

Come and get lost with us by boxofwonder Haikyuu!! | M | 150k | Hinata/Kageyama, Daichi/Sugawara | action/adventure, Medieval AU(?) | unlike anything I've ever read before or since; a really masterful integration of an enormous cast and a plot that unravels with absolutely zero fluff or filler

shimmer in your shine by zenelly/@zenellyraen Hunter x Hunter | T+ | 91k | Leorio/Kurapika, Killua/Gon | American roadtrip AU | This story made me cry over a fist fight between Leorio and Illumi in the parking lot of a Red Lobster in Arkansas.

The Myth of Mankind by MistressEast/@mistresseast Promare | T+ | 63k | Galo/Lio | action/adventure, romance | masterful worldbuilding, kickass fight scenes, intrigue galore, falling in love while preventing mass murder? yes, please

A Second Chance To Say by KazimaKuwabara/@kazimakuwabara Yu Yu Hakusho | M | 92k | Yusuke/Kuwabara, Youko Kurama/Kuronue | action/adventure, hurt/comfort | ft. Kuronue's eternal sass and unwavering friendship, the slow burn of reincarnated already-in-love KuwaMeshi (because Kuwabara doesn't remember it), somewhat menacing levels of intrigue, and Hiei finally winning MVP of emotions on Team Urameshi

Don't Blink or You'll Miss It (Lift Up Your Head) by umisabaku/@umisabaku Kuroko no Basuke | M | 81k | Kagami/Kuroko, Kasamatsu/Kise, Midorima/Takao, Himuro/Murasakibara, Aomine/Momoi | super powers | This story and its accompanying series are so cool and so unique. The characterization is amazing and the worldbuilding is stellar.

neither fish, flesh, nor foam by twoif interactive on Twine Kuroko no Basuke | Kagami/Kuroko | angst, Little Mermaid–esque, interactive storytelling | incredible, but also devastating; a story about how sometimes our doubts can destroy not only ourselves but the good things we build; one of the coolest things I've ever interacted with as a story, a true tour de force

Transient Shadow, True Light by seafoamist/@seafoamist Kuroko no Basuke | M | 322k, WIP | Kagami/Kuroko | angst, hurt/comfort, time travel, historical (Edo Period) | If you talk to me about this story, I will go absolutely feral, because it is my current obsession and the only WIP that is on this list. I'm straight-up insane about its quality and depth. I can't even put this story into words. It knocks the wind out of me.

And lastly, my URL doesn't actually have a story behind it! It's basically just my life, haha. “Extant” is an adjective meaning “ongoing/still in existence” and “exhaustion” is pretty obvious. Essentially, I like alliteration and thought it sounded better than "tired 100% of the time."

[dreamauri]

‧˚⊹ 𝗱𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 ଓ :: 𝗠𝗩𝟭 ‧₊˚⤾

you are reading :: part ten !!

╭╯ pairing . . . max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ) ┊ summary . . . a day for improvement and a nice cuddle session ) ┊ genre . . . fluff / angst ) ╰╮ warning . . . X )

☆★ ━━

( fic masterlist | general masterlist ) ( requests ) ( taglist )

"This feels oddly nostalgic." You mumbled to yourself as you wrapped your arms around Max's broad chest, laying your spinning head over his heart. "It does?" The blond puts a hand on your back, to keep you from stumbling ( more like to touch you, in a non sexual or creepy way ).

"Yeah. You're very warm." You pouted, gently swaying with him, very offbeat from the club music playing in the background. "I know I've said that before, to you . . . But I don't remember it." "You must've drank a lot—" "—What aren't you telling me, Max." You might have been frustrated with today's results, but you were mindful of your alcohol intake today because of the 9 year old waiting for you at Max's apartment. You weren't drunk at all, just tipsy. All that would do was put you under a Pinocchio spell.

"I like you, Max. Please don't ruin that." You sighed. ". . . You like me?" "I do. You're a very sweet guy. And you have really fucking gorgeous eyes. And you're good with kids—" hiccup "And I don't want to have to cross a guy like you out of my list." "You have a list?" He chuckled, wondering who he'd be competing with. "It's empty . . . There is no list— just . . . just tell me . . ."

Max breathed in, hoping you couldn't hear his heart race. He felt really scared, already regretting his previous actions. "I well . . . we've— . . ." "Max." You pulled away, the alcohol in your system inducing tears in your eyes. "What did we do? . . . Did we . . . ?" "No no no." He quickly assured, cupping your jaw. "I would never take advantage of you like thar. I—" "—Then?" You started to lose your patience.

"I can show you." He offered hesitantly, making you frown deeply. "Show me what—" oh. 

The world around you was quick to erase and blur out. The only thing that mattered in your head now was Max's lips on yours. You've never felt such . . . peace with someone before. Well you've never kissed anyone ( when you’re semi sober ) and you didn't want to pull away from Max when he crashed into you. He had to pull away first. "We've— we've kissed a few times." He admitted. "Well— more than a few, but I promise not more than that."

He held your hands gently avoiding eye contact with you. His hands were oddly gentle and soft, holding yours like endangered flower petals, one he’d only come across once in a lifetime. "I have feelings for you. Genuine feelings." He confessed, sighing and closing his eyes in shame. "I couldn't help myself— you're just, you're really wonderful, Y/N. You make me feel things. Good kind of things."

He let go of your hands, taking a step back. "I don't deserve a woman like you. You're just too . . . perfect." You looked deep in his eyes as he gently grazed his fingers over your cheek. He turned to walk away, ready to put distance between you.

You felt your heart swell with different feelings as you watched him walk away, the world around you returning back into sound and colour. "What are you waiting for?" Other you urged, popping up from behind you, gently pushing you towards where Max was going. "Sure he kissed you once or twice when you were out of it. But he's been there for you, with Marwan and Leila. He's protected you from creepy men and bought you dinner that one time in Canada last year. You never notice it, but he's always looking for you. And you're looking for him."

"What even are you?" You looked at her, furrowing your eyebrows. She could only laugh, handing you a shot which you didn't hesitate to swallow. The glass fell on the floor ( you handed it back to the non-existent yourself ) as you wiped your lips, gaining enough confidence to push through the crowd.

You've been looking and searching for him all over, even asking other drivers who gave you directions that lead you to nowhere. Great. You slumped on a stool at the bar, leaning your head on the wooden surface as you tried to recollect yourself. "I should save myself the embarrassment and go home." You mumbled, already knowing people were taking videos from the crowd behind you.

You walked through the streets of Monaco, barefoot ( stockings didn't really count ) with your heels in your hands, somehow finding your way back to Max's apartment building. You didn't have the keys or the buzzer to get past the entrance doors, so you sat on the stairs, head on your knees. This was probably going to create more rumours and work for PR to deal with.

You could feel your phone buzz with messages or notifications, but you were too tired to check. You don't know how much time has passed, you've had your eyes closed forever and you managed to blur out the noise from cars going back and forth on the streets in front.

"Y/N . . . Come on let's go inside." Your vision was too hazy and your mind was too out of it to say anything. You let Max take your shoes and purse, leading you inside. You leaned on his side throughout the elevator ride, watching the numbers beep with each floor you passed. You let him put his hand on your back to keep you steady as you walked, gently helping you into his apartment.

You stood still as he sat down to take his shoes off, watching him quietly. "You really scared me. I thought someone took you with him or something." "You walked away first." You reminded him, sitting beside him looking into his eyes while looking down at his shoe laces. "I thought I'd give you space . . . after what I've done." He sighed, getting up.

"Max." You held him back from his hand making him pause in his tracks. "I'm not mad." ". . . You're not?" You shook your head, mumbling a small no. “But I—" "—Shut up and kiss me." He didn't hesitate. Pressing you into the door behind you and connecting his lips with yours. You fisted his dress shirt, trying to close the gap between you while Max leaned his forearms on either side of your head, enjoying you.

"Out of wedlock!?" You and Max pulled away in the speed of lightning, facing opposite directions as Leila gaped at you two with an angry face. "I'm telling Khadija!" "Wait no—" You ran after her trying to catch her. Max's eyes softened seeing you and Leila chasing each other around a table, laughs filling his apartment.

He wouldn't want it any other way.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You took a deep breath at Max's fridge, pursing your lips as you took out the ingredients you needed. While you and Leila were making dinner, Max was sitting at the island. "We're trending." "Is that a good thing?" Leila went over to Max to see what the fuss was about.

You took on her job of de-seeding ( or whatever you call the process of removing a seed ) the dates you found for some reason. You chuckled hearing Leila's gasp upon seeing twitter's new found and loved picture from last night. "You know kissing is for . . . forgot the word." "Couples?" "Yeah. Are you two a couple?"

You and Max held eye contact for a few seconds before going back to your respective tasks. "So you kissed out of wedlock and without being a couple . . . that's very bad." Leila mumbled making Max chuckle ruffling her hair.

"That smells very sweet." Max commented, standing over the stove beside you. Leila had long gone and prepared for your day out on the yacht and you were preparing the small lunch and snacks you'd need. You hummed and nodded slightly, looking down at the eggs and date mixture ( it tastes better than it sounds [a mostly Arab dish] ).

Max didn't even think before gently tilting your chin upwards so he could kiss you. A moan slipped from your throat as he deepened the kiss. It's been like this since last night, stealing kisses and small touches. Neither of you wanted to talk about it. You knew you had to, but you were both scared if the outcome didn't go as planned.

You cleared your throat as you pulled away, saving the food on the stove before it burnt. "Stop kissing and hurry up." "Shhhh!" Max ran after Leila, forcing the shirt over her swimsuit. Your lips were still tingly, even after boxing everything up, getting dressed and walking down to the yacht, you could still feel him on you.

The warmth accumulated in your hand from when Max held you all night wasn't going to leave any time soon.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Max frowned impressed as he read the death threats he received in the new group chat that consisted of him and your brothers, who were trying to find them in the middle of the Mediterranean sea.

"Alright that's enough." You sighed, plucking the phone out of his hands and throwing it in your purse. "Leila, take a swim." "I dont want to." "You wore a swimsuit so might as well use it." You picked her up from under her armpits, tossing her overboard, watching her scream as she splashed.

"This is why I don't like you." She accused as she watched Max dive in after her. "Girl, you're following me." You chuckled, watching the two mess around, leaning your head on your palm, a smile curling on your face. "Maybe we should pull her in." Max whispered, failing because you could hear him as clear as day.

"I can't swim." You giggled pulling away when Max tried to pull you in. "You can drive a car at 300 kilometres an hour but you cant swim?" He mocked, pulling you in anyways. He had to carry you on his back for the rest of the night, not minding at all. Your body brought him enough warmth to fend off the cold water.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as the two of you watched the sunset. Lei got back on the yacht a while ago sit was just you and Max, sharing a comfort silence. But it wasn't time for silence. "What are we?" You asked hesitantly. Max looked back at you, his eyes locking with yours. ". . . Whatever you want us to be."

auri's voice notes 🔊 . . . ↳ "ayyyy finallyy,"

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[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Fifteen: Sattler's Quarry

Gates Of Hell [Masterlist]

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of death, virus, mentions of past trauma, thalassophobia (deep fear of water)

[A/N: this chapter is dedicated to the one and only @sattlersquarry who has literally been supporting this series since day one!!! I honestly don't know where this fic would be without your constant support so, in honour, here's a chapter filled with the steve x reader moments we deserve (and maybe a little angst, but I can't help myself)

I would also like to take the moment to thank everyone for their patience, I've been through two rounds of sickness and it really took a lot out of me but I'm okay, I'm back, and I'm really excited to share this chapter with you all! I hope everyone enjoys!]

Sattler's Quarry

You were living on borrowed time.

It wasn’t news to you, in fact it’s all you’ve been thinking about since the day the gate exploded, leaving you and Steve stranded in a foreign world shaped like your home. The thought of it creeps in whenever you’re still, imagining how horrible it would be if it happened without warning.

And then those terrifying images play out like a slide-show. You turning, attacking, regretting. You hate that you’re imagining all the ways you could possible turn on the boy you cared about, but you can’t help it. This virus did everything it could to make you feel like a monster.

Steve can tell your symptoms are getting worse. You’re trying your best to hide them, force them away, but every so often you’ll slip up and expose the intensity of it, snapping at him or stumbling to a stop to blink away the black spots in your vision. He could just go on, find the gate himself and escape before it was too late. But he wasn’t leaving you down here.

After Max’s radio message this morning, you had both immediately set off, determined for this to be the last trip across the Upside Down forever. You just hoped you had decrypted the pattern correctly and weren’t just leading you both out here for nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Once your soft footsteps turn to crunches above the gravel, you know you’ve arrived.

Sattler’s Quarry was located on the edge of town, buried behind a thick expanse of woods behind the lab. It wasn’t a particularly unpopular place, but since it was owned land people generally tried to stay away from it. That was until Will Byers’ body was found just before he miraculously showed up alive a week later, making it a honeypot for insensitive teens. Since so many kids were visiting, the owner, Frank, decided it best to just drain the quarry to avoid anymore mishaps with government cover-ups and reckless teens alike.

While it didn’t make the cut for the ‘bodies of water’ criteria, you figured it should count for its past.

“Um, so where is this gate meant to be if there’s no water?” Steve questions, squinting towards his surroundings. Somehow everything was darker around the quarry, making it near impossible to spot anything dangerous. And there was always something dangerous.

“They said it always appears at the heart.” You reply, keeping your focus on the ground so you don’t accidentally walk off a cliff in an anti-climactic end to your life.

“What kind of cryptic bullshit is that?”

“I think they just mean the middle.” You gently nudge his arm, spotting the edge of the quarry and he nods, sighing.

“Okay… let’s find the middle.”

You lead him to the edge, focused on your footing to ensure it was solid ground. Everything seemed normal until a crackle of lightning above you shed a spotlight, glinting below. You both freeze, staring down.

“Holy shit.” Steve breathes, and you can only nod in agreement.

You had never seen the quarry so full with water even before they drained it, but there it was, rising up to what would be half full. You can just spot the smaller rock ledge you and Robin would sit at during the summer, imagining the quarry could have been a swimming spot if it weren’t so small. Now you didn’t really have to imagine.

“I didn’t even know the Upside Down had natural water.” You say, feeling a sudden pang of fear. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“When was the last time you drank water?”

“Uh…” He frowns at first, thinking it through. And then he widens his eyes, staring back at you.

Neither of you have had food or water for three weeks. And worse yet, neither of you had noticed.

“How is that possible?” Steve questions and you shake your head. “I don’t even… are you hungry?”

“No.” You let out a breath, looking around you. “How could we have forgotten something like that?”

“Been too busy fighting and running.” Steve shrugs and you tighten your lips. “Come on, we’ll freak out about this later, let’s get a closer look at this water.”

You point out the ledge you had spotted earlier and soon enough, you had both quickly descended down until you were both peering over the edge, close enough to the water to see your reflections shining back at you.

“The water seems pretty clear.” Steve nods, hands on his hips as he looks across the massive body of water.

You frown. “How can you tell? Everything’s so dark down here.”

“Yeah I can’t see shit, I was lying.” Steve peers back down at it, crouching and running his hand through the water. It was strange, knowing now that he hadn’t touched water in weeks and yet, he still remained completely satisfied. “Dustin said the gate should glow red when it opens… do you think we’ll be able to see it from up here?”

“I don’t know.” You say, shifting on your feet. Steve looks up at you, noting your uneasy nature.

“Hey, they’ll let us know when the gate opens on their radar thingy.” He assures, standing back up.

“That’s not…” You glance back at the water before turning around, opting to face anywhere but there. “I don’t like water.”

“You don’t like water?” Steve repeats and you nod, thinning your lips. “Wait, like, you’re scared of it?”

“Not the water specifically. Just like...” You explain, wafting your hand through the air. “The stuff in the water.”

“Like what?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and you look shocked. “What? I’ve been swimming all my life, I have no idea what you’re on about.”

Your mouth gapes, feeling exasperated as you look between him and the water. “There’s- it could… Scary fish.”

“Scary fish?” He tries to hide his smirk and you bat his arm.“It’s the quarry, okay? Nothing was even in here before it got drained or some shit, nothing is gonna be here now, okay? Can you swim?”

“Yeah, I can swim.” You nod, looking down with a shudder. “But it’s much nicer in a pool with ceramic tiles staring back at me. Not whatever endless void of death I’m looking at right now.”

“That’s the positive spirit.” He chuckles and you grimace. “Okay, okay, look, I’m not asking you to jump in there alone, okay? We’ll do it together.”

When silence washes over, you turn to see him holding out his pinkie. You smirk, looping your own around it.

“Thought you said this was childish.”

“It grew on me.” He shrugs, smiling down at you. When he realises he’s just staring, he clears his throat, stepping back. “So, uh… what now?”

“We wait, I guess.” You say, lowering yourself onto a smaller ledge etched into the rocky surface, digging your elbows into your knees as you lean forward with your head in your hands, trying not to think about what could be lurking in the deep.

Steve joins you after a moment, his knee brushing against yours as he stretches out. He thinks how strange it was you were both so comfortable with contact that it was simply second-nature, your arm pressed against his to the point he could feel your warmth even through the thick fabric of your jackets. When the apocalypse started, neither of you could sit so close, the space between you speaking volumes.

“Do you think the military have it sorted?”

Steve’s question was a surprise, making you straighten up to meet his eyes inquisitively.

“I mean, it’s been three weeks. They must have done something.” He theorises and you shrug, not giving it much thought.

“Maybe.” You say, pursing your lips. “They didn’t have much luck before but, like you said, it’s been three weeks. The worst of it would probably mean they move us out of Hawkins, maybe to California or something.”

Something sparked hope then in Steve’s chest. Us. Not ‘them’, or ‘you’, us. Steve was always afraid to speculate about the future after the Upside Down, fully aware of the inevitable possibility you won’t have one. But there you were, including yourself in the narrative like it was meant to be.

You twist your face when you noticing him smiling, making you laugh. “You’re making that face again.”

“I can’t help it.” He chuckles and you smile back at him, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You wanna hear something funny?”

“I can’t deal with another one of your ‘knock, knock’ jokes right now.” You groan and he laughs, shaking his head.

“No, it’s not that.” He scrunches his face in thought, letting his eyes drift to the water then back to you, studying you like it was his last moment he ever could. “I, uh… do you remember anything about middle school?”

You raise your eyebrow, smirking. “Uh… a little, I guess. Why, do you?”

“It’s probably the only thing I can remember.” He sighs, leaning back until the rock edge dug into shoulder. “It was the last time I felt like a kid.”

“What’s so funny about it?” You remind him and he clicks his tongue, nodding.

“I, um…” Steve looks nervous, staring at his shoes. It made your stomach flutter, feel giddy. “I actually had the biggest crush on this girl back then. I… I don’t think I hid it that well either.”

You slowly nod, looking at your hands. “Nancy?”

“No.” He says and you back to him, frowning. “It… it was you.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“I- I thought you knew.” He laughs and you shake your head, looking bewildered. “Literally everyone else did. Even Robin was teasing me about it.”

“You throw so many parties that the school practically lives at your house, you’re always ranting about getting a basketball scholarship, and weirdly enough I am fully aware of the crush you had in middle school that you completely ruined but it’s so mind-blowing I can’t even repeat it.”

His mind is taken back to his very first official meeting with Robin, the way she had rambled at him the entire car ride as he drove around searching for you. She knew so much about him and, since you were close, he figured you would have known all about his middle school crush too. How wrong he was.

“I didn’t know.” You say, smiling in disbelief. “Seriously? Me?”

“Yeah.” He laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair. “I know we didn’t really hang out that much, but whenever you were around… I don’t know, you just seemed so… cool. And fun. You would always make the best jokes, you never let anyone tell you what to do. You were so different from my other friends, I just… I just had a massive crush on you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You ask, your wide eyes staring up at him, waiting for an answer.

“I…” He lets out a breath, shrugging. “I don’t know. Maybe I figured you wouldn’t want to be with a guy like me. I mean, the people you were friends with were nothing like me. And we never really saw eachother that much… I just ran out of time.”

“Ran out of time?”

“Well, you know.” He says, smirking. “The whole sworn enemies thing we had going on for some reason.”

Steve meant it as a joke, but your breath hitches and you shift in your spot, eyes darting away from him in a flash of hurt.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean-” He tries, but you shake your head.

“It’s okay.” You dismiss, leaning forward. It wasn’t okay, though. It was a subject you’ve been avoiding ever since you found out Steve lost a lot of his childhood memories to deliberate punches and infuriating concussions.

But maybe you needed to stop avoiding the truth. The secret was only keeping a barrier between you, one you had cherished a long time ago but… everything was different now. It was time.

“I know you don’t remember.” You say quietly, watching how the red sky reflects against the water, making it crimson in its wake. “And that’s okay. I mean, it was a long time ago, but… but part of me wishes you did.”

Because I hate to be the one to remind you, you thought, knowing that once Steve caught a glimpse of the person he was in the past, it would eat him up inside.

“Do you remember Dan Shelter?” You ask, looking up at him. He frowns in confusion, unsure where this was heading, but he nods regardless. “The summer before freshman year, he asked me out on a date, wanted to take me to a movie or something. And I said yes.”

Steve watches how you keep your fingers busy, mindlessly twisting around a loose thread at the bottom of the jacket you were wearing, avoiding his eyes completely. He couldn’t remember a single detail of what you were talking about and yet he knows he and Dan would hang out almost all the time in the beginning years of high school.

“What happened?” He asks, feeling like he was holding his breath for far too long, afraid of the ending.

“Nothing.” You shrug, finally looking at him. “He stood me up. Part of me figured he would. He didn’t really seem that into it when he asked, I was just… I was so happy for a minute knowing someone had picked me, you know? The weird police girl. But I waited outside the theatre for an hour that day until my dad eventually picked me up and took me home.”

“I don’t…”

“I know.” You nod, sending him a reassuring smile. “But, I, um… I did see him again. At the arcade. I was there with Robin, actually. Yeah, we, uh, we managed to escape our parents for the day and just spent all our money playing stupid games. It was fun. And then I spot Dan trying to beat some high score and I felt so embarrassed at first. But then I thought, why the hell am I the one embarrassed? He was the jerk, not me.”

“So I went over.” You continue, returning to fiddle with the hem of your jacket. “I asked him up front, why didn’t he show up for our date? But, as it turns out, he wasn’t alone. Tommy and some others showed up, teasing, asking him if I was telling the truth. And he just… he laughed. Told me I was ‘freaky’, that I had been stalking him.”

“Why would he do that?” Steve shakes his head and you tighten your lips.

“Because that’s how guys like that became likeable.” You say bitterly, “It only got worse after that. They all started calling me names, laughing in my face. Robin told me to leave, and I should’ve, but I wasn’t going to stand there and take it. I told Dan he was a liar, that he wishes a girl would care enough to stalk him. And then someone else stepped forward.”

You take a deep breath, meeting Steve’s eyes. “He said it was all true. And that I… I had done it to him. That I was some crazy stalker obsessed with boys to the point where I had tried to throw myself at him. And even though they were false accusations, obviously everybody believed him over me.”

“Who…” He asks before he notices how your face twists, turning away from him once again. His stomach churns.

“You said that.” You say quietly, and his heart sinks. He ruined your life, and it wasn’t even an interaction he bothered to remember. “I didn’t even know why, either. I just remember after that, Tommy and Carol starting spreading the rumours, even attaching a whole story to it about us at Lover’s Lake and me going all crazy because you didn’t like me back or some shit. Everyone started calling it-”

“The date.” Steve finishes and you whip your head toward him, eyebrows furrowed. Nancy had told him all he needed to know, and he had chosen not to believe it could be true. But it was, and he hated himself for it.

“Yeah.” You nod, biting your lip. “I… I didn’t really make many friends after that. ‘The date’. They all assumed I was trying to use them to get to boys, that I was some kind of freak. After a while I just gave up trying to convince anyone any different. I already had enough to deal with, I just…. I stopped caring.”

“I can’t believe I forgot about that.” Steve says and you start to shake your head.

“No, you’ve- you’ve been through a lot, I don’t-”

“It doesn’t change what I did.” He interrupts, looking at you with determination. “Back then, I- I was so obsessed with everyone liking me, with fitting in with, god, Tommy and Dan… I would say literally anything to make me their friend. I did say literally anything.”

You watch as Steve’s face scrunches in disgust, burying it in his hands and mumbling into them. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“It was a long time ago, now.” You try and he runs his hands through his hair, straightening back up.

“I am so so sorry, Y/n.” He says with such conviction you knew it was true. You just never thought you’d hear those words ever leave King Steve’s lips. And you were partially right. Because the boy sat beside you, holding your hand and begging for your forgiveness, wasn’t King Steve anymore.

“I forgive you.” You give him a small smile, squeezing his hand.

“Really?” He frowns. Something heavy in his chest was lifting. Three small words that held heavy significance were giving him a peace he was unfamiliar with. After last year, he had assumed he was on the path to forgiveness for his old self, knowing he would have years to redeem. He figured as long as he proved himself, he wouldn’t need to hear those little words. But he did. He really did.

“Steve.” You raise your eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “I literally just made out with you in a cheap motel bathroom yesterday.”

A smile stretches onto his face, a rouge tint hitting his cheeks. “You mean you don’t do that with all the boys you’re stuck in the Upside Down with?”

“Only the ones I’ve forgiven.” You shrug and he dramatically holds his hand to his heart, making you laugh.

After a moment, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer, resting his head against yours as you smile against his touch.

“Thank you. For forgiving me.” He mumbles into your hair and you pull away, looking up at him with such adoration, he felt the tips of his ears turn pink under your gaze.

Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against his cheek, holding your breath. He brings himself closer and your eyes flutter shut, feeling his lips brush against yours until you commit fully, your hands slipping around his neck like he would slip away.

The kiss wasn’t the same as it was the first time. There wasn’t any hesitation or urgency. It was just simply sweet, all of your senses consumed by Steve and Steve only. His heart found its rhythm with yours, everything else washing away into a stream of his happiness.

And, when you pull away, he’s still chasing your lips, eyes closed and cheeks red. It was the second time he has ever kissed you, and he already craved a million more.

“Steve?”

“Yeah.”

“Look.”

He opens his eyes to find your worried ones staring back, tilting your head to the water. He turns his gaze over to the quarry, his eyebrows furrowing.

A red glow was starting to blare through, casting the quarry in a scarlet hue. It was beaming from the middle, just as you said it would, like a living, breathing heart.

You both slowly stand, moving closer to the edge with heavy chests. This was finally it. This was the escape.

“Guys, the gate just showed.” Lucas’ voice blares out into the dark from the ground beside you. You reach down to grab the radio and hold it to your lips.

“We see it.”

“You have around 5 minutes to get through before it shuts off for good.”

“It’s all we need.” Steve nods, looking at you. “I’m gonna dive down a little, just enough to get a look and see if it’s big enough.”

He pulls off his jacket, knowing it would only weigh him down in the long run. Letting it fall beside him, he moves to the edge until he feels your hand on his arm, making him turn back to your worried gaze.

“Be careful.” You say and he smiles at you, giving you a smile salute before finally diving down in perfect form.

The water engulfs him like a warm blanket, shocking his senses as he prepared for the cold. But it didn’t feel any different from his swimming pool at home, his legs kicking out and driving him further down the quarry. He followed the red light, his eyes adjusting to the gate that lay at the bottom. It looked like some sort of thick membrane was blocking his view to the other side, but he took that as a positive. It meant nothing was bleeding out into the other side.

After about twenty seconds of you shifting on your feet, Steve resurfaced just a few metres away, presumably directly above the gate. Once he spotted where he had left you, he grins.

“We’re good.” He calls out, shaking water droplets from his hair and extending his arm as an invitation. “No pressure, but… it’s now or never.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. No pressure. You were just going to dive into this suspicious body of water in hopes of breaking through a gate that lay at the very bottom of the quarry. And you had limited time to do it. No pressure at all.

You dump your bag and your jacket, neither of which you would need on the surface. Hopper would surely be heading to Sattler’s Quarry now to take you both far away from here. Home.

As you ready yourself to jump, you look up to ensure you’d be swimming in the right direction when your eye catches something on the other side of the quarry, making you squint into the darkness. Your heart jumps.

The red glow from the gate was making the water a little clearer, making everything look scarily like blood. But that wasn’t really the terrifying part.

A dark shape was moving in the water.

And it was heading directly for Steve.

“Get out of the water.” You say, completely numb. He frowns at you, and finally your voice rises. “Steve, get out right now!”

Swivelling his head around, he’s confused at your outburst and trying to find what you were staring at. And then he sees it, something big. He wasn’t alone in the water.

“Shit.” He breathes out, immediately starting to swim towards you.

There is a big distance between you and where he started in the middle, your voice almost alien to yourself as you continuously cried out.

“Steve! Come on, just a little more!” You keep shouting, hoping your words would somehow bring him to you faster. It’s gaining on him, but he’s so close.

You’re reaching over the edge, arms held out ready to pull him out. You can almost brush your fingertips against his. Just a few more arm strokes towards you until the water would splash your face and he’d be in your arms-

The water shifts directly behind him.

And then he’s gone.

You’re just left alone, screaming into the darkness.

“STEVE!”

Chapter Sixteen: The Pattern ->

taglist: @toomanyfandomsimfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose . @palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 . @iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby .

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hello! May I just say that your last fic Tangerine x Reader was great??? Like, seriously great?? One question, if you don't mind: are we going to read a piece about that time that Tangerine mentioned him getting angry/yelling at the reader?

I'm super curious, but mostly really intrigued about their relationship!

Hey Anon,

Means the world to me that you enjoyed it!!!!!

I'm currently waiting for work to start but I thought I could do a small blurb. I typed/edited this on my phone and I'm worried about it. This may or may not be loosely based on real events....

Warnings: readers got some trauma, shouting, crying really hard, supportive partner.

He was frustrated and tired. Lemon hadn't shut up all day, Tan knowing it was because he was nervous didn't have the heart to keep telling him to shut up.

He knew his patience had worn thin. Seeing you avoid him made the very last of it evaporate.

He paused and tried to understand what the problem was. He opened the door to the flat, you were sitting on the couch reading. After a brisk hello you were doing dishes and banging around the kitchen.

You clearly weren't going to make it easy on him by confronting him, so he took a deep breath.

"What's wrong?" His tone was a little firm.

You didn't look up from the sink.

"Nothing." You said dismissively before turning on the oven and moving towards the fridge.

Years of his mother looking miserable flashed before him and he grabbed your shoulders once you turned around.

"No." He breathed. "What. Is. Wrong." He had raised his voice more than he intended. What he wanted was to show you that he cared that you weren't alright. That he was taking a serious interest in the problem to fix it for you.

What he got was a whole glass baking pan of casserole dropped on his foot.

He took a shuddering breath unable to curse when your eyes looked so scared already.

"I'm sorry." You whispered before bursting into tears. " I was reading and I didn't notice the time- the dishes and you came home earlier than I thought and I just just - don't leave"

"That doesn't make any sense" he said pulling you towards him. He decided to hold you while you sobbed. He thought of all the times he had cried that hard. Only once and that was after his mother died.

No one was dead and yet you were clinging to him like your life depended on it. Had someone come to the flat? Tried to bother you? Or get information on he and lemon?

He made some soothing noises then remembered what you used to say about your parents. You were the eldest and had a lot of responsibility.

"Are you upset because the kitchen was a mess when I came home?" He asked hesitantly.

"Obviously" You said loudly still crying.

"Right." He said staring at the ceiling wondering what to do next. "So, um. It's not really an expectation to have the kitchen clean or dinner ready."

You stopped crying and looked up at him.

"It's not?" Your breath was ragged and you were shaking.

"Nope."

"Oh." You seemed to calm down a bit before you started again. "But you do so much for me and I have to - I like to -"

"No-No no" He interrupted "My only expectation of you is to not cheat. Spend my money, read as many books as you want, never cook again. Just don't cheat and don't put yourself in danger. Ever." He was happy that you settled down a bit.

"Also while we are being honest, I hate that casserole."

You laughed. "I also hate that casserole. It makes Lemon happy though." Your voice was so tired it made his heart hurt. "Sorry for being so crazy."

"Not crazy, traumatized- most likely. But never crazy." He kissed the top of your head.

"I'm not good with yelling. I either freeze up or I get mean"

"I will keep that in mind, let's do take away." He got your favorite and let you mellow out on the couch. He felt like the right thing to do was to keep you close. Later that night you sort of opened up about always having to look busy at home. How you have a hard time relaxing.

"We could go on vacation?" He said with a smile. "I'm sure I can think of a few ways to make you relax."

You let out a laugh and he kissed your forehead.

________________

Hope that was alright!

[ao3commentoftheday]

Hello! Big fan of your blog, I'm really happy to see you ariund again, and I hope you're doing well!

I know you get a lot of questions about writing and comment, but do you maybe have any tips or advice for a writer struggling to respond to comments? I've managed to overcome being afraid to post, and I've received some lovely comments, but I got struck by a horrible new wave of anxiety that has me locking up when I want to reply to nice commenters. Now it's been a long time since the comments were made and I feel bad both for not answering more promptly but also for not posting since.

I hope that's okay to ask, I realized it may be a bit overly specific, and I apologize for that. ^^;

Oh anon, this isn't overly specific at all! You'd be surprised how many authors go through exactly this same thing, myself included.

I genuinely love responding to comments, and yet for the past several years it's been hard. Really hard. I still appreciate them. I still read and reread them. I still think about responding to them. I just... can't. My inbox grew to the size that just thinking about tackling the whole thing became totally overwhelming.

So instead, I just respond when I can.

When I'm rereading a fic and going back through the comments and I notice I didn't reply to one. When I get a comment notification in my email and I have a minute right then and I just type something right back. When I can't stop thinking about that question someone asked until I finally dig it out and answer it. When someone is just so lovely or friendly or enthusiastic, and I have the spoons to return their message in kind.

One thing I think it's important to remember is that a thank you or a heart emoji can go a long way to getting your message across. Another thing to remember is that a thank you can still be sincere when you've said it a thousand times.

We can really psych ourselves out of doing something by worrying about others judging us. But other people are often kinder to us than we are to ourselves. Ask most readers, and they don't care if a reply comes after 5 minutes or 5 months or 5 years. Hearing back from the author is appreciated - and if often prompts a reread of the fic.

Give yourself patience and understanding. Reply to the comments you're able to and forgive the ones you can't reply to yet. Maybe in time, you'll come back and have something to say. In the meantime, you can always add an end note to your fic saying that comments are appreciated and you'll reply when you can. ❤️