#answer key in order of tags i suppose

[riotforbear]

assorted chibi canucks

[satosugusandwich]

His Angel and His Brat

Part 1!!! Part 2

Hard!Dom!Geto x Brat!Gojo x obedient!afab!reader

(I also try to write my fics to be racially ambiguous! No mention of skin tone or hair type!)

Summary: Gojo is a mega-brat to y/n and Suguru and likes to push buttons cuz he can so Suguru decides to overstimulate Gojo until he thinks he’s broken. (Key word: thinks.) To add to Gojo’s humiliation, he ensures that the reader is getting princess treatment while watching Gojo suffer endlessly. But, of course, things don’t always go as planned with Satoru Gojo.

CW and whatnots: Overstimulation, vibrators, cuffs, finger sucking, condescending!geto, usage of the word “cock”, gojo’s boundless stamina and cocky attitude, anal play, cum licking (off the floor and gojos pp) praise, cocksucking, angel ass reader that ends up in trouble cuz gojo can’t shut his mouth, geto is actually so mean to gojo but so soft cuz he’s actually a teddy bear dw. Use of “brat, princess, angel.” There will be aftercare in future parts cuz imagine leaving pathetic satoru a cum drenched mess. Poor baby. :(((

There will be additional tags in future parts. This is how I cope with ch 236.

Suguru runs his thumb along your bottom lip, licking his own lips while you whimper. Your pretty eyes fixated on his blushing face and half-lidded eyes. He looks at you with so much lust and is so gentle with you, just so in love with how much you please him and how willing you are to do what he wants. You eagerly await him and his orders, always ready to obey.

But.

“Suguru!”

Satoru’s cry makes his face go from pure admiration to utterly sadistic. “Satoru.” He says, looking at the man to the right of you, the same man that’s panting and whining as the vibrator in his tight hole runs relentlessly. “Jealously doesn’t look very good on you.” He grins and hits a button on the small remote he holds in his hand that isn’t occupied with your mouth.

“Fuck—FUCK!” Satoru’s eyes clench shut, the whirring sound coming from his bottom getting faster and bit more high pitched. You’re grateful you aren’t in his position, you don’t know if you could handle Suguru having full control of how much pleasure you get to feel. Especially if that pleasure is ongoing… and nonstop.

Satoru looked unusually pathetic and… weak. It’s insane to think that the so called strongest sorcerer, the cocky, the arrogant, the man on top, bends to the will of his pretty best friend. Suguru’s change in character comes as a shock too. The sweet, soft-spoken, gentle, and empathetic sorcerer is now grinning down at his partner, showing no mercy, no kindness, and is only sending Satoru into deeper throes of overwhelming pleasure. You almost didn’t want to look at Satoru, what if Suguru surmised you wanted the same treatment. Would he show you mercy?

“Now, now,” Suguru muses, “if you can beg me properly, I’ll stop your torment. And of course you’ll need to apologize to Y/n and I for being such an impatient little shit.” He chuckles softly and withdraws his thumb from your mouth. “She’s being so well-behaved while you whine and whine and cry and cry about how much it is.” He mocks him, furrowing his eyebrows together in a false pity. “I suppose I should expect it, after all, you’ve cum how many times? That pressure against—“ Suguru crouches as he speaks “—your prostate—“ he runs the tip of his fingers up Satoru’s base “—it’s been nonstop for 30 minutes now.”

You can’t help but watch as Suguru’s hand starts to stroke Satoru now, giving expert attention to his neglected yet tortured cock. Suguru notices how you eyeball his actions and can’t help but smile wider.

“Ah, do you feel left out?” His false pity changes back to his gentle expression. “It’s alright, princess, why don’t you show Satoru how impressed you are with his stamina. Give him a little reward?”

Suguru is evil.

“I don’t think he could take it, Sugu.” You answer honestly.

He looks a bit disappointed but he relents his ministrations. “I suppose you’re right. But he still owes us an apology before his punishment ends.”

You nod and meet Satoru’s eyes. He can barely speak as his next orgasm approaches. “I-I’m so—“ his body is shaking. “I’m so sorry! I’ve been so—Suguru—so impatient! Please, I’m so so soo!!! So sorry!” He’s almost in tears now, you can tell Suguru is even beginning to feel pity for his best friend and his brat.

“Ahh… cum one more time and I’ll take it out. Show me you deserve mercy by pleading. Plead for mercy.” Suguru’s fingers tug at your nipples now, clearly losing interest in Satoru’s torment. You know that you aren’t being punished, but seeing Suguru like this… makes you a little weary.

“Please please!” Satoru repeats the word over and over. “I’m so sorry! Please, mercy!” He keeps prattling on, thrusting into the air as he struggles to keep together.

“Y/n.” Suguru looks to you. “Clean up his next mess for me. Lick his cock clean and then it’ll be your turn.”

Satoru starts to mumble and moan out different variations of thank yous and Suguru’s name as he reaches his final high. And when he cums, It’s a mess. Semen spills from his cock and your immediately there to catch it. Suguru’s eyes widen, absolutely loving your eagerness to take his cum down your throat.

“Good boy, good girl.” He pets your head and clicks the toy off, causing Satoru’s to collapse completely, his body weight bearing into the now standing legs of Suguru. He catches his breath, still whimpering as Suguru pets his head. Satoru looks you in the eyes, his beauty keeping your gaze fixated on his body. His six eyes are a little red, probably from the tears that he held back, and his body is flushed beautifully, his pretty cock slowly going soft as he does his best to calm down.

Satoru relaxes back on his knees while Suguru goes behind him to remove the toy from his ass and undo Satoru’s hand cuffs. You breathe a sigh of relief for him, always impressed by Satoru’s unwavering stamina and attitude. You wondered how Satoru enjoyed pissing Geto off so much, does he really enjoy these punishments that much? Suguru seemingly loves the after effects of a good punishment, his adoration of Satoru is evident in the way he kisses his head and gently rubs his back while Satoru regains his strength.

As much as you love watching, you are wondering why Suguru invited you to observe Satoru’s punishment. You’re not really complaining and it definitely isn’t the first time you’ve seen it, but, all you’ve had is a thumb in your mouth and a little bit of cocksucking. After all, Suguru can’t ever stay entirely focused on Satoru, he needs some pleasure himself.

Satoru seems to be wondering the same thing. “So, baby, why did you bring her in to watch?” He asks, rising from his knees to give them a break.

Suguru looks down at you. “Just on a whim.” He strokes your face before looking back toward his brat. “And I’ve noticed you get more worked up with an arousing audience.”

“Well, wouldn’t you if she was licking your cum from the floor?” Satoru grumbled, sitting on the bed.

Suguru turns his attention back toward you. “She does love cum in her mouth.” He strokes himself slowly, catching your attention.

“I want yours next.” You tell him, shifting your weight and sending him a smile.

Satoru watches as you lean forward to lick Suguru’s cock, taking his precum on your tongue. He doubt he could handle anymore cumming, but he certainly loves to see you take cock down your throat. If he had more energy, he’d love to stuff his down as well. “Like it that much, y/n?” He chuckles.

Suguru’s eyes shoot to Satoru. “Jealous again, Satoru?? Well, the question is are you jealous cuz my cock is down her throat or are you jealous cuz it’s not down your throat?”

Satoru sucks his teeth. “I want to watch her take me balls deep.”

Uh oh.

Suguru removes his cock from your mouth. “Satoru,” you start, “I don’t think you have enough energy to keep that attitude up.” Indeed, his stamina is incredible.

Suguru waits to see his reaction.

And of course, the other man grins and only adds fuel to the fire. “Think she’d look better with my cock in her mouth. She’s been paying more attention to me than you anyways.”

“Satoru…” you sigh and in seconds Suguru has him pressed back into the bed and is beckoning for you to get on with him.

Satoru laughs. “Aw, did I bruise your ego, baby? What are you gonna do about it?”

Suguru points to his mouth. “Sit on him to shut him up and I’ll give him a nice view of my cock in your mouth.”

Fuck, that sounds hot. Satoru just grins and motions for you to ride his face, pointing at his eager tongue that’s already out and waiting.

“Y/n, make sure he stays quiet I don’t want to hear him make a single peep. And since he likes being punished so much, I’ll punish you instead if he speaks.”

What?

You blink. Undeniably aroused but a bit scared of his now very evident sadism. “You know he’s going to try to speak now on purpose?” Mercy isn’t exactly his thing right now but you’ll pry at it for sure.

Suguru gives you an evil grin as you lower your weeping pussy onto Satoru’s face. “Then keep his mouth shut.”

[ni-kism]

「Bad Luck」

Inspired by "Yellowstone", the scene where Beth smashed the store.

Mafia!Cheol x wife!reader ft. Secretary Shua

Warnings : mentions of insecurity, blood and violence, punching (?), explicit language, very fluffy at the end, wonwoo and hao has wives, pet names

Genre : fluff

Everything below is pure fiction made for entertainment purposes. Do not copy any of the actions below.

"If my husband came in here, he'd kill somebody"

You hopped out of the car after saying goodbye and thanks to one of cheol's men. He'd taken his day off just to drop you off at the street where all the designer stores are. With no special day yet your husband insisted that you should go shopping while he dealt with meetings. Your husband? Mafia boss of the underground world. They're all wary of him while he fears none except you - his precious wife. The way he'd get on his knees to apologise so quickly if he were to be the reason you're upset.

You grabbed yourself a latte while looking for a store to walk into. Deciding to look for a necklace you slipped into the store with a pretty lilac stone on display. Immediately you realise the gaze of the shopkeeper on you, eyeing you up and down. After looking around and having enough of her glares, you approached her to ask for the necklace you saw by the window.

"I've seen enough of your type of people. You can't afford this unless you sell a kidney why don't you get your ass over the store down the street where poor people are supposed to be?"

Before you could respond, " You stole something didn't you, I'd like to check your bag missy." spat the shopkeeper.

"Get a warrant"

"I don't need one. Lock the doors and call the cops" she ordered the guy standing by the door.

Infront of her face you threw your bag on the counter while fishing out your phone to call Joshua.

"(Y/n)? Something wrong?" He questioned immediately since you rarely call him

"I need help. A store by main street with police cars outside. You'll see it." You can already hear the sound of key hitting against each other in the background before he spoke again.

"Why did you call me? Why didn't you call cheol?"

"If my husband came in here, he'd kill somebody" you answered.

You eyed the shopkeeper's name tag that said "Veronica". Ooh it's the one that's gotten a few complaints about being rude to customers. When the cops arrived so did Joshua. Upon seeing him the cops....squirmed away back in their car...?

"Sorry Mr.Hong we're closing now as we are having some issues with this...thief here. She probably shoved it in her bra or pants. I'll have the cops search her right away if you must shop today!"

"No need." said Joshua as he gave her a side eye.

Upon seeing Joshua's attitude, the air got awkward and scary at the same time whilst you could only hide behind him hoping he would just slap her and take you home. You'd deal with her after asking cheol to buy the store or something...maybe get someone to run her car over. Does she even have a car?

The bell hung above the door gave out a soft ring, signalling that someone had just entered. Before you could register who in the hell enters a store with police cars parked outside and before Veronica could tell the person that they're closed, a baseball bat flew straight into her face so quickly it cracked one of her teeth! You quickly turned fearing the worst for Veronica. The police cars are long gone now replaced with a black Roll's Royce and...your husband who's walking through the entrance. Oh no. Rip Veronica.

You hear cheol ask Joshua to go back and finish off his work before he goes home. Joshua approaches him and hands him a recording pen before nodding and leaving in his BMW.

So.... everything was recorded...of course Joshua told him...now Veronica's fucked...like fucked.

"Mr.Choi-!" Slap. Ooh her mouth started bleeding. If she knows about your husband...and your husband's secretary how come they don't know you? Wierd. Everyone in dirty work or involved in underground stuff knew who you were.

"Mr.Choi? What's wrong you're our most precious custo-"

"You messed with the wrong girl, Veronica."

"This girl? She's a thief!! She tried to steal our jewels and stones!!" She quickly answered while holding her cheek. Slapped yet so respectful because she knew what would happen if she weren't. "Here it comes" you thought to yourself.

"This girl you claim to be a "thief" is my wife."

You've never seen colour drain from a person face this quickly as she realised she messed up big time. Accusing the wife of the man who makes even the police run away? It's better if she just shut up and get lost but cheol would never let that slide. As he went towards the door to lock it, Veronica dropped to her knees to apologise saying things along the lines of "spare me", "I have children to feed" and "I can't die". Seungcheol picked up the baseball bat that was forgotten on the ground since earlier while telling her that she should have been polite to just show you the necklace instead of judging just because you didn't dress up. Following the end of his sentence he hits the nearest piece of glass with the bat, resulting in a loud shattering noise and silence so thick it could be cut with a knife after the shards have settled.

"Cheol that's enough let's go-" you tried to grab him but he took your hand in his to kiss your knuckles instead.

"Oh babygirl we have all night. The sun is setting, why don't you try on the jewelry you came here to look for. Let me guess, that big one by the window? I'll fetch it for you." He pecks you and grabbed a high stool for you to sit on. Seungcheol puts on the necklace with big lilac diamond around your neck and steps away to admire you.

"Love, how about this one?" He said as he smashed yet another glass covered shelve. For the next ten minutes, he chose some nice rings and necklaces for you to put on and "take home" as well as stepping on the gems that weren't polished or looked ugly. You protested, insisting on going home many times but he would silence you with a kiss on the lips. Everything unfolded infront of Veronica as she could only stare in horror. When he reached the last piece of intact glass in the store, Seungcheol pointed the bat against it as he turned to her to speak.

"You bring your sorry ass on your knees before my wife and apologize for judging her for how she dressed, and for treating a fellow customer rudely."

Losing her cocky exterior, she crawled towards you on her knees to apologise word for word while asking you to ask Seungcheol so he would spare their last piece of unshattered glass as well as the accessories inside.

"Much better. Here love, have a bag." He handed you a medium sized box and a bag to store all the things he'd put on your lap or around your neck and fingers before turning to Veronica again.

"You're lucky my wife was here or you'd be painting those pretty tiles with red right now. Regardless you'll be losing your job and your boss will be losing this shop lot. Enlighten me, what will you tell your boss?"

"A runaway criminal came in and attempted to steal....Mr.Choi had driven him away...so I gave his wife our jewels." She managed to stutter out while still trembling.

"Good." he said. He walked towards you to help you off the high stool and into his Roll's Royce. You tried to look back, catching Veronica phoning her boss and telling him exactly what she said she would. Wow. It's honestly the first time seeing your husband in action. You'd heard from the fellow wives of your husband's peers, namely Wonwoo and Minghao's wives that he can be impulsive but it's the first time you've ever been on the scene of his anger. Well the ladies were serious when they said he's the scariest.

You set the box of jewellery next to your feet while turning to look at your husband. His scary facade was over, now smiling about the scene he caused back there and happy that he brought you justice.

"Someone is happy~" you cooed. "Are you proud of me sweetheart?" He asked while he stopped at a red light.

"Shua told you didn't he..." You questioned, admiring the way he drives the car with only one hand, the other on your lap.

"Of course he did, you were in danger. You accused that I would kill someone but cmon baby I'm not that bad...I fight but nothing illegal! Ever!!" He said while pouting. Nobody dares to challenge him. His company and family controls 70% of the economy and his underground dealings that involve weapons and solutions used to make medicine that are somehow legal every time it is checked bring In lots too. You somehow managed to marry this guy and not find out about his whole identity until you were so inlove you're ready to be the evil man's wife that fights with him to death in those movies.

You once questioned him, and he allowed you to go through this stuff. He sells the solutions and medicine at a cheaper price in big batches to hospitals and labs because the government is using it for money but he actually wants to help, that's why the government is always looking for something to get him in trouble but they end up shining the lights on their own dirty work. You can't help but want to give yourself a pat on the back everytime you see or hear of his deeds that aren't posted all over the media. He knew you liked cats, so adopted two for you and donated a few millions to cat shelters overseas. You loved this man. Even when he gets sick and almost puked on the ground you'd still love him.

The ride back home was comfortable with soft tunes playing in the background. He'd take peeks at you and you'll both giggle. Three years into your marriage, the love never faded. Most say that marriage is the grave for love yet everyday spent with Seungcheol felt... genuine and happy. You help him by diving Joshua's workload, mostly organising stuff about his company or his personal schedules. Before starting work you'd make him a lunchbox, write a cute note on it and pack it up. Afternoons were spent with your cats by your side or playing with each other as you typed away on your computer. At night, he'd come home around 8. He never postpones coming home because of work. Usually it's traffic or he got something on the way back for him to be late as he likes to say that the important stuff should be finished at the office, the rest can be put off until tomorrow and he will leave at 7:30 sharp to go home and see his beautiful wife.

He usually comes home to a purring engine on the cabinet of the mansion's door and another furball on the floor with the smell of dinner going into his nose. He always greets you with a kiss or hug when he comes home. During dinner, he either pouts and complains about work or shares the interesting things that happen today. Does he let you do the dishes on your own? Hell no. He can and he will help you no matter what. If you scrub the plates, he will rinse and try them ; if he mops the floor then you clean the counter tops and dinner table. That's just how fantastic of a husband he is. The man that people fear most will wear a pink apron with cats on it and mop the floor even if you asked him to rest.

His car gently rolls into the porch of your marble white mansion. You both enter the door and your cats immediately run to greet you. He once said that the cats lift his mood, but you do wonders on him. You tossed the food into the steamer and quickly joined him in the bathtub. You like to take baths together by cleaning each other. You wash his back while he washes and dries your hair for you. You always feed the cats first before taking a bath together. Although it is mostly relaxing and warm to bathe with your husband, yet things can get freaky when he's moody or horny. You once fucked so hard the both of you collapsed and fell asleep until the next day waking up to very grumpy cats as they didn't have their dinner. Oops. Today was one of those relaxing warm bath days.

After you both finished dinner, you cuddled on the couch with dimly lit warm lights around the huge living room equipped with floor-to-celling glass windows facing the sea for a spectacular view. Your cats, hanging by the cat tree sharpening their claws and running around playing. You enjoyed "us" time the most. Before bed, after dinner or when you wake up in the morning. He holds you close against his bare chest as he has a habit of walking around the house shirtless almost all the time. You set your head on his muscular chest and he buries his head in the crook of your neck your your hair. Then, you talk about random things or just simply enjoy the embrace of each other.

You've thought about having kids but...your cats and your husband are enough now. You want to have peace and quiet, not quite ready to give up what you have right now. Seungcheol is totally fine with it as he says that it's your choice. He's happy as long as you're with him.

Seungcheol is the type of man to choose you before his baby because "we can always try again for another baby, but I can never find another you. I don't want a family or anything if you're not my wife♡"

Suddenly he spoke up. "Love?"

"Yeah?" You answered with eyes closed and your hand reaching down to pat your cat who has decided to loaf Infront of the couch.

"Would you rather choose a hero or a villain?" He asked. You scooted up a bit to look at him, acting like you're actually thinking when you already know the answer.

"The villain." You stated

"Why?"

"Because the hero would give me up to save the world, but the villain would give up the world to save me." You answered knowing that the world sees him as a bad guy who pursues violence and force to get his way as well as trades stuff behind doors to earn money.

Your hands intertwined, wedding rings on both of your fingers gently hitting against each other as he kissed you ; soft giggles and meows filled the room when you chat into the night.

"Sweetheart, i'd burn the world to ashes if it meant that there will always be a you and me."

A/N : hope you enjoyed and thanks for all the likes and reblogs on my previous story "Christmas, Airports and Coffee". I appreciate every single one of them. Feel free to request for cheol if anyone is interested~ (only cheol because I've tried writing for other members and discovered I could only come up with ridiculous ideas for my bias while the others sounded so dry and uninteresting I just deleted everything. Like seriously.)

<3

[asce-of-hearts]

If your requests are still open is it all right if I ask for a yandere Bloody Painter with a female

Darling

Maybe where he kidnaps her but she's obedient and knows trying to run away won't end well and she's scared of him

And if it's okay can I please ask for smut with it if that's all right

Mutt

Contents: Yandere!Bloody Painter with a very submissive fem!darling smut.

more Bloody Painter content here

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: KIDNAPPING, THREATHENING, HARD YANDERE, HELEN IS SORT OF A CUNT, EVIL FUCKED UP SEX, FEM!READER (NO BODY TYPE SPECIFIED), LOTS OF DIALOG AS USUAL, BLOOD AND MORE BLOOD, NON-CON/DUB-CON, UNCONVENTIONAL USE OF A KNIFE.

"Stay." He orders as he looks at you, almost disdainingly. His eyes are dark, looking at you with tiredness. You remain sitting on your knees over the comfortable mattress he laid out for you to sleep in, inside a locked room to which there's only one key, no windows. Only a television, the mattress, pillows and blankets and some books to keep yourself entertained.

You obey, because you're terrified. You only nod, looking at him wide eyed as he sets the plates of food in front of you. White rice, some kind of meat, a glass of water.

"Can I trust you with a real knife? Or do I have to hand feed you so you won't get any stupid ideas," The word stupid is said with anger, as if he's daring you to try and attack him. You only shake your head in disagreement, he frowns. "Use your words, I won't kill you for talking... just for screaming." He murmurs the last part, averting his gaze.

"I can use the knife, but... whatever you feel most comfortable with." You answer him in a meek whisper, and his expression relaxes. He hands you a small knife by the handle, well mannered as usual. He stops for a second, only staring at you, making you fluster, heat rising to your face just a bit.

"Do you want me to leave or do you want to eat with me?" He asks, rather curtly, he always sounds upset, like he's mad at you for some unknown reason.

"Ah? Oh. A-At a table?"

"Where else?" Both of your brows furrow, and nervousness makes you look away from each other.

"Well- Uhm... If- If I could that would be nice, I suppose..."

He takes the knife away from your hands, and stands tall over you.

"Carry your plate to the table, I'll be there in a minute once I serve myself." You nod, he nods. You both go to do your own thing.

The house he has you in is modest, elegant almost. The only decorations he has are some strange artwork using what seems to be resin hands and eyes, your own face at times looking at your soul from paintings you don't know when he painted. You carefully set yourself at the table, looking at your feet in fear of what he will do if he finds you staring at his bizarre decors.

"Eat." His voice gets you out of your train of thought, you only nod again, and slowly start to eat. You don't look at him, and neither does he look at you, only focusing on the task at hand. The sounds of silverware clanking against each other the only thing preventing you from going mad, and him from pouncing over you. You do that to him, get him murderous for some reason. "Is it to your liking?"

"Yes, it's quite alright. The flavo-"

"Not the food. The art." He asks, now staring at you from across the table. You look around, taking it in. You try to mask the deep breath you're taking.

"I... I don't know much about art to give an opinion. But... but it's interesting." You murmur, not knowing what else to say. It's bizarre, disturbing even, but you don't know if he would explode at you if you told him so. His eyes narrow into thin slits as he takes in your words, but his expression relaxes ultimately.

"I will educate you, don't worry." He answers, putting you at ease for the moment. "You will learn to like the art... and to like me." You don't say anything, only nod at his words. He's standing next to you in a second, tall and menacing, his hand, veiny and calloused from use grips at your jaw with force. "Look at me when I'm speaking." Your breath hitches, and you do your best to avoid breaking eye contact as you nod. His expression is hard, unreadable, you wonder why he's this way. He's young, he's handsome, but there's this strange, underlying darkness that surrounds him. If it were another situation, you would look at him, really look at him, and try and gather the courage to ask for his number. Unfortunately, the situation isn't that, it's this... mixture of emotions and bloody messes. He steps away from you, letting go, not looking at you as he speaks again. "After you finish eating go and get cleaned, I'm painting you, naked." You try to not cry, sniffling as quietly as you can. "I'll wash the dishes."

His studio has a single ceiling window in multiple colored glasses, the sun light is nice, it's been a while since you felt it. Your body feels exposed, maybe because it is. You're naked, sitting on a soft, velvet vanity sofa, it's almost cliche in nature. He's setting up his equipment, paintings, brushes, water, chemicals.

"Wrist." He orders, and you immediately show it to him. He chooses a small blade, sharp and glinting under the multicolored light of the ceiling window. "Stay." Another order, you comply, and he presses the tip of the blade against your skin, he looks at you, his expression soft. "Breathe in." He whispers, and you do as told, you inhale, and he drags the blade through your skin, blood starting to fall out of the wound. "Breathe out." You exhale, tears in your eyes. He almost seems proud as he collects all of the crimson liquid that falls from the open wound. He presses an alcohol soaked cloth against it once it has stopped bleeding, holding you close as you try and wince away from the sting. He hushes you, a soft, tender kiss pressed over your hair as he carefully bandages the wound. "Good girl, good job. You're so good to me."

He goes back to his station, orders you on how to pose and you comply. Your face looks cute after you've cried, red in the nose, puffed up lips and teary eyes, he smiles. Once you're all set, he stops before painting, considering something.

"I've already painted you crying..." He murmurs to himself, the back to you. "Masturbate."

Your eyes widen.

"Eh?"

"Do it." He orders, growling.

"But- I-" He stands up abruptly, his stool falling as he walks over to you.

"And here I thought you were starting to understand. I'll just have to do it myself," He spreads your legs apart, spits over your cunt and shoves two fingers inside your entrance. You squirm, a choked scream leaving your lips as his free hand traps your wrists. You try and close your legs as he roughly thrusts his fingers in and out, a squelching sound invading the room. "Can't trust nobody, I can't trust anybody. Don't you fucking dare close your legs, you stupid mutt. Keep them open," His eyes are intense, only staring at your leaking entrance as he continues to finger you roughly, a thread of slick and blood mixed together coating one of his fingers. Once his hand tires, erratically he reaches for an instrument. The handle of a knife, expertly held by the blade, is shoved inside you. You cry out, cumming around it. You feel disgusted, violated. And he breathes heavily, still staring at your entrance.

He cut his hand with the knife blade when he did that, but he can ignore the sting of the cut, more blood to paint if that's the case. He pulls it out, you're staring at nothing, sniffling, glowing after your orgasm. He throws the knife away, and sits back on his stool, in front of his canvas. He takes a deep breath, ready to start painting, giving you one last order.

"Stay."

got a little unhinged with this one methinks

hope you enjoyed this!!!

have a great day/night

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[lillaydee]

I'm Right Here Part 7

BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader

Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.

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WARNINGS: BFF Joel Miller, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Angst, Love Triangles, Miscommunication, Past Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel is a Clueless Idiot, Jealousy, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced/Supposed Sexual Assault

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 6

You cleared your desk for the evening, feeling the jitters that you had managed to forget for the last few hours as the clock hit 530pm.

“You okay darling?” Mrs. Adler asked, the kindly older lady giving you a sympathetic smile. You nodded, giving her one back, albeit slightly half-hearted. Jake walked out of his office then, placing his lunch box on your desk, sitting in front of you.

“Things are not better?” he asked.

You only managed a weak shake of the head and a regretful smile.

He sighed, rubbing his face.

“Don’t give up on him, darling. He’s stressed. We’ll figure this out. We’re all trying to figure this out. He’ll be alright. This is all just… new, and with the other one not cooperating, he’s frustrated… I know he shouldn’t be taking it out…” he stopped when you waved your hand at him and froze. You heard his truck approach.

You got up and collected your purse and bag, gave him a kiss on the cheek, waved Mrs Adler goodbye and walked out, taking a deep breath to brace for what was coming.

“Hi,” you said as you climbed into the truck, placing your bags on the footwell and pulling at the seatbelt. No kisses. No more. Not since last Friday. Not since Jen came charging at your door with the news big enough to implode a thousand worlds. He hummed in return, taking his foot off the brake pedal and drove out of there.

After an extremely uncomfortable 8 minutes of driving, he stopped in front of Hank’s, immediately freeing the gear and pulling the handbrake. He stopped for a moment, playing with the keys to his truck in his hands, staring at them for longer than necessary, if it was even necessary in the first place at all.

“You sure you’re up for this? We don’t have to,” you started. He heaved a huge sigh of frustration and opened his door. “Let’s just get it over with,” he said, slamming the door behind him.

You took a few extra seconds to breathe before finally leaving the truck, walking into the busy bar, locating them immediately. Joel was already at the bar, ordering drinks for the two of you. You hugged Olivia and the guys, sitting down next to Eric.

“How is he these days, Daze?” Tommy asked. The rest immediately stopped talking and focused on you, Benny keeping a watch for Joel. You were the only person they could ask. Any attempts to ask him directly had been met with hostility. Even Anita and Aunt Tina got the silent treatment the moment they asked him one too many questions last week.

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know anything. Will you all stop?” he had frustratedly said, “She’s not answering any questions, she’s not willing to provide proof, all she talked about was moving in with me and starting a family I don’t want! And stop fucking looking at me like that!” he had ranted before telling you that the two of you were leaving, right in the middle of the family lunch. He stopped answering their calls, slammed the door in the men’s faces when they stopped by after work, even came close to punching Tommy in the face when he tried to ask his brother to answer Anita’s calls.

Thing was, they didn’t see that he was exactly the same with you, only it was worse because you lived with him. Gone were the sleepovers, the man sleeping in the living room rather than his own room or yours, buying a single mattress from Ikea to sleep on in front of the TV when the sofa gave his back an unwanted ache. He’s refusing to talk to you, refusing to touch you, refusing to do anything with you. He hardly ate, hardly slept, judging by the sounds of the TV in the middle of the night when you woke up for the bathroom. You tried to sleep with him in the living room at first, accidentally on purpose falling asleep as you watched TV, but he woke you up and instructed you to go to bed. He won’t even lift you into bed anymore, just poked you with his feet and gruffly told you to go inside.

It was as if the old Joel disappeared. The joker, the funny man, the romantic one. That charming smile disappeared overnight. Some semblance of him remained after that initial lunch weekend, but after Jen’s visit, he completely disappeared. In his place, a quiet, grumpy, ready to explode at everyone, depressed man appeared instead. He stopped shaving, staring into the void even if he was supposedly watching the TV, becoming selectively deaf to your questions. Any questions asked, even mundane ones like what to get for dinner, or if he could take you to the grocery store were answered with grunts or short answers, and even those, snappy ones. He was angry with the world, and he took it out on you.

It was immediate, the change in him. One minute he was the hungry man kissing you as if his life depended on it, the next, he was the screaming, vulnerable, panicked one who threatened to beat the living crap out of Jen if she didn’t leave right away.

Jen wasn’t exactly helping, refusing to answer his questions, insisting that they had sex despite his claims otherwise. When he started talking about paternity, she turned her attention on you, going into your room to pack your bags, screaming at you to leave, that this is her house now, that Joel needed you to be gone if he was going to be a good father, that you were in the way of an innocent child having a father and a mother, a happy family.

She screamed and threatened to report him to the cops if he didn’t do as she asked. Joel threatened the same, but she laughed in his face, asking him if anyone would believe his story, what with his reputation with women compared to her own with men. That his ex-conquests would be lining up to testify against him. That it’s time for him to receive karma for the way he had treated women all his life. Joel literally picked her up and dumped her outside, screaming and begging to be let back in. She only left the property when the neighbours threatened to call the cops on her.   

So, no, things were not better. If anything, they had gotten worse. Joel withdrew further and further into himself, shutting everything and everyone outside, including you, especially you. Except, it felt worse when he did it to your face rather than just ignoring your calls.

You kept telling yourself to be patient, to be understanding. That there was a massive reason behind this change, that he was going through something unimaginable. That there was no way you could understand what was going on inside his head. But every single time he shut down in front of you, you felt your heart chip a little more. You wanted to help him. You wanted him to know you were there for him. But he was not letting you.

Everyone’s faces fell as you shook your head, playing with the hem of your blouse. But they had no time to ask for details. Joel was back, placing your drink in front of you, taking a seat, drinking his beer in complete silence. It took a lot of convincing for him to be here, and his agreement was not made clear until he actually parked in front of the bar not five minutes ago. He placed his beer back in front of him, crossed his arms on his chest, turned to Olivia and took a deep breath.

She seemed to understand his signal.

“Okay, I need you to listen until the end before you say anything. I spoke to my friend, she’s a lawyer. She could help you with the process if you choose to go down this route.”

He didn’t say anything. His eyes were still fixed on Olivia.

“You need to file a paternity petition, legally ask for a paternity test. If you do, and she is lying, which we all highly suspect, the truth will come out whether she likes it or not. She needs to prove her pregnancy with the lawyers present, meaning she had to go to the hospital and get a blood test. That pregnancy test is not valid in this case. And then you will attend a hearing and present your case. If the judge finds reason to doubt paternity, they will order her to undergo this test.”

“She’s refusing. I already asked her, first thing.”

“She is claiming you are the father and is invested in making you raise this child with her, if the judge orders her to get one, she will have no choice but to do it, or she could be charged. If you don’t do this, she could keep lying, and you will be tied to her, Joel, even if you don’t end up with her, even if the baby is not yours, if there is even a baby at all. Her unwillingness to cooperate is odd, considering how adamant she is that you raise this child with her. I don’t think she’s willing to back down that easily, she’s gone this far. At this point, going the legal route is your best option.”

“Assuming we could get the judge to agree, how long do we have to wait for a paternity test? Don’t we have to wait until the baby is born? What if she harasses Joel throughout her pregnancy?” Will asked. Joel took another drink, his eyes on focused on the water ring on his coaster.

“You can establish paternity once the pregnancy is 10 weeks these days. It’s a blood test for her, a swab in the mouth for Joel,” Olivia said. “Joel, if she is telling the truth, she should have no reason to refuse a court-ordered test. But you need to take this step. You need to file the petition to request for one.”

Joel could feel all eyes on him, his hand clutched into a fist on his thigh. You noticed. You put your hand on his, attempting to make him feel better. But he withdrew his hand from under yours and removed it from his thigh.

“What if she really is pregnant with Joel’s child? Can we do something about how the conception happened? Maybe get the cops…” Tommy started. Joel immediately got up in a huff, telling you he’s leaving. You got up with him, not willing to let him drive alone, or even be alone at all these days.

“Joel…” Tommy protested, but he simply walked off.

The next morning, you woke up for your jog as usual, the first one you will take since you got injured. Joel hadn’t taken you out on walks since that night, and your body was starting to feel sluggish. You needed to start running again sometime, and this seemed to be the perfect time. He was still sleeping on his mattress. You didn’t wake him. He was up until four last night, you were sure of it. You peeked when you went to the bathroom, you could see that his eyes were open, staring at the TV, looking but not seeing, even in the darkness. The drive home was unusually quiet and tense, even more so than usual, and you didn’t have it in you to egg him on and ask him about Olivia’s proposal.

You put your earbuds on and turned on your music. You powerwalked that first mile, wanting to get into the rhythm again, having not jogged for the past month or so. There was still a small twinge of pain on your shoulder when you started running, so you kept a leisurely pace, not wanting to aggravate it further.

You were maybe a little under two miles in when you heard a shuffle beneath all that music, and before you knew it, you were face down on the pavement. You scrambled up and took your earbuds off, coming face to face with a very angry Jen.

“What the fuck Jen?”

“Serves you right. I told you to move out. Why are you still living with him?”

“Because I live there, and you do not. I’m not moving just because you told me to. What gives you that right?”

“Joel and I are going to be married. We are having a child together. You are standing in the way of our child having a happy family!”

“So you said. Funny I didn’t hear the same sentiment from Joel!”

“That’s because you are still there, feeding him poison to make him stay away from me!”

You wanted to scratch her eyes out, squish them into slimy goo and feed them to the rats. But you held yourself.

“You know what? You’re right. Joel would absolutely love to raise this baby with you.”

Her anger seemed to dissipate slightly.

“You think so?”

“As soon as you get a paternity test.”

She rolled her eyes. “What is it about you guys and your obsession with paternity testing? Why are you so hellbent in believing I would lie to him? Trap him?”

“Because that thing a man and a woman need to do to make a baby? Yeah… your version of events is a bit sketchy. It can all go away and truth will be out, all doubts shall disappear, as soon as a paternity test is done.”

“I know my truth. And Joel knows what really happened that day, despite his claims. He’s not getting away with this. And if you were a woman, a true woman, you would bow out and give us a chance at being a family. Are you really so desperate to be with him that you are willing to break a family up?”

“I have said everything I need to say to you, Jen. Paternity test, or nothing. And if you keep this attitude up, we will not hesitate to get the law involved.”

Her smug face turned white. She got more and more desperate, shrieking at you. “Why are you even involved in this? You have nothing to do with this. This is between me and Joel, and no one else! Why can’t you just leave? This is all because of you! You’re meddling in things you shouldn’t be meddling in!”

You knew you were going nowhere with this deranged woman. You shrugged, “Well, I’m not moving out. Not until Joel asks me to.” You turned around and put your earbuds back in, tired of dealing with her.

“Oh no, you don’t!” she screamed, pulling you by the collar of your shirt. She raised a hand to hit you when a truck screeched to a halt next to you. Joel came out, screaming at you to get in the truck.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Jen?”

“I’m just trying to secure our future, Joel. She’s in the way. She needs to go so we could plan for our baby’s arrival!” she pleaded, her demeanour shifting drastically from anger to desperation.

“Paternity test. And then we’ll talk.”

Jen’s eyes flashed towards you once more, full of anger. “This is all your fault. You couldn’t have just left, could you? You need to ruin my life? What have I ever done to you Daisy?”

Joel helped you into the truck, closing the door behind you. He walked around the truck to get in, Jen following behind.

“Joel, how could you choose her over our baby? You need to tell her to leave. We need to put our baby first. We need to get married, for the sake of our baby.”

Joel stopped abruptly, turning around, taking such aggressive steps towards Jen she shrunk back, taking desperate steps back onto the curb. “You listen to me carefully Jen. I am filing a petition with the courts for a paternity test. I’m gonna make you prove to the courts that you are indeed pregnant with my child, and if you can prove that you are, I will do what the courts tell me to do. I will only listen to them, not you. And let me make myself very, very clear here Jen. Even if I am the father, don’t you ever, EVER, think for a second that I will be with you. I don’t want you anywhere near me, let alone marry you. And if you try to force me in any way, I will press charges against you. I will walk into that police department and report you for drugging me, for assaulting me without consent, and NO!” he raised a finger in her face as she opened her mouth to protest, “I don’t care if no one believes me. I don’t care if people look at me funny. I don’t care if I get laughed at for being an assault victim. Fuck, I don’t even care if they can’t prove anything and drop the charges. Cause by then, everyone will know what you allegedly did. I will make sure of it.”

Jen stared at Joel with her eyes wide, shocked that Joel would lose it on her like that.

“Joel!” she gasped. “How could you speak to me like that?”

“I will speak to a deranged, lunatic of a woman like you however I want. You didn’t give me a choice, so I am not giving you one either. Don’t bother me again. If you know what’s good for you, I’d better not see you again until we’re in court.”

He climbed into the truck and drove off.

“Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” he snarled, not looking at you. You didn’t even get a chance to open your mouth before he started on you. “What the fuck were you thinking leaving the house without me like that? Do you even know what she could’ve done to you?”

“I’m not a child, Joel. I can take care of myself.”

“I promised Eddie I would take care of you!” he screamed.

“And you’re doing a great job at showing it!” you snapped back just as he parked with a screech in his driveway. You got out and walked into the living room, the door having been left wide open. “Wonderful way of taking care of me so far, Joel. Ignoring me, snapping at me, screaming at me. All I’m trying to do, all anyone is trying to do is to help you Joel! But I can’t, we can’t, no one can, because you refuse to talk to anyone.”

His head snapped towards you, his face the epitome of anger.

“You want me to talk? Okay,” he said, slamming the door behind him. “Let’s talk. What do you want to hear? That I feel like a fucking loser who was idiotic enough to be nice to a lonely woman who turned out to be a deranged stalker? That I let her drug me? That there is a huge possibility that she…” he stopped, swallowing, looking away, rubbing his face, “Sexually assaulted me and took what she could from me without my consent? That I couldn’t do anything to prevent it? That I don’t remember anything about it? That I might be a father to a child I already know I will hate for the rest of my life, that I’m already the definition of a deadbeat dad for not wanting to have anything to do with this child ever? That I’m thinking of ways to run? To escape? That I’m refraining myself from going over and just choking her to death so I can just live the rest of my miserable life behind bars than deal with this whole thing? That the thought of that woman doing things to me makes me feel like I want to scrub the living shit out of my skin and just… stop living? Is that what you want to hear?”

Tears were swimming in your eyes. You tried to take his hand in yours, wanting to make him feel better, but he pulled his hand away. He looked as if he was struggling from saying something, contemplating the repercussions of him saying what was on his mind, his neck taut, his jaw tight. You tried one more time, and he finally snapped.

“You think I want you touching me? You think I want any woman touching me at all? You think I would ever want to be with you, or any other woman at all after this? That I could trust anyone ever again? You think I don’t lie awake at night thinking this is my karma for never wanting to be in a relationship? That this is just what I deserve for telling the women before you that I am not interested because I was waiting for my special someone? For the woman I have been in love with since I was six? You think you want to be with me if that child is real? You want to be with a deadbeat dad who wishes he was dead or behind bars if it means he didn’t have to deal with this child? Cause if you do, then you are even more pathetic than I could ever imagine.”

You stared at this man you had known since infancy. This was not him. He’s just scared, you told yourself.

“Joel…” you said, as gently as you could. “We could get through this. Let’s just get the process started, okay? Talk to Olivia’s friend. We’ll get through this. Together.”

He huffed a laugh. “Together,” he muttered.

“Look, I know that you must feel…”

“How the fuck would you know how I feel? Huh? Have you ever been assaulted? Has anyone drugged you and taken advantage of you while you were out of it just for the sake of trapping you with a baby? Do you know what it feels like, knowing that going to the cops will only result in people laughing at you, that no one would take you seriously? Calling you a cry-baby for feeling dirty just because some lady might have had sex with you? That because you had casual sex before no one would believe you if you told the truth? That the person who did this to you could get clean away with it? And you might have to pay her child support for the next 18 years while you go on to live your miserable life? You know how that feels?”

You didn’t know what to say.

“That’s what I thought. So don’t you dare tell me you know how I must feel. Cause you don’t fucking know anything.” He walked into his room, and you could hear him rummaging about. He came back out with a duffel bag.

“I’m ending the lease. You have one month to arrange for a new place, or you could take over from me. I’ll be staying at Tommy’s until I get a new place,” he said, opening the door. “I’ll be back from time to time to get the rest of my stuff.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Joel… we can work through this. You don’t have to leave. We’ll look for a place together. We can move if that’s what you need to move on.”

He stopped, the open door in his hand. He turned, his expression unreadable.

“You think I want to live with you? Why? So you could do to me what Jen did?”

You felt your blood turn cold. You stared at him for a while, his eyes still devoid of any feelings.

You turned around and walked into your room, slamming the door behind you.

“Welcome to the company Miss Stevens. We are excited to have you join us. Congratulations,” your new boss offered a hand for you to shake. “It’ll take a week or so to sort your papers, but we definitely want you to join the company.”

You gave him a polite smile, excited for the opportunity. But there was a heaviness in your chest, knowing that you would go back to an empty house with no one to pop the champagne with.

“Thank you, I really appreciate this. I didn’t think I would even be considered,” you told him.

“Well, Jake Miller is an old friend of my Dad’s, and he was raving about you. And based on the interviews and the trial runs you did with us, he’s right.”

You made a mental note to get Jake the most expensive bottle of whiskey you could afford with your first pay.

“Now,” he said, taking a folder out of a drawer. “We are required to let you know the options. We sorely need people in other branches too. You could stay here in our Austin branch, of course, but there are others if you are interested to hear them? They’re all the same position.”

You nodded, just wanting to hear the options.

“Well, there’s one in Saint Paul, though the winters could get quite gnarly there in my personal opinion, and there’s another in Miami. Although I have to warn you that Miami is a very expensive city, given you are on a starting salary. Then again, so is Austin. But at least you have a good support system here already,” he said. He looked at the folder again, “There is one overseas, though I doubt you would want this one. The pay is lower, but you will get free housing, if you could call the shoebox they provide housing. It also means you would be tied to the project for a while.”

“Where is it?”

“Bangkok, Thailand.”

“How long is a while?”

“At least ten years, if not longer.”

Joel walked into the house, an empty duffel bag in his hand. Tommy came in after him with boxes. They started packing his room, Joel working as fast as he could as if his body would combust if he stayed there any longer.

“Go pack your books. I’ll settle things in here,” Tommy said, clocking his brother’s discomfort.

Joel got a couple of boxes and went into the living room, placing books in the boxes, his heart feeling a bit more relaxed now that he was out of that room. It’s been two weeks since he left you at that house, and every day was a struggle. He got the process started for the paternity petition, but the court date was weeks away. He didn’t even want to think about it anymore. He had gotten to the point where he was just surrendering to his fate, letting the chips fall where they may.

Jen did try to accost him at the building site he was working in, but Tommy managed to fend her off. The cops had to be called one time. She left before they got there.

Tommy had been understanding, keeping him busy at work to the point of exhaustion, coming home only to collapse into bed. Benny kept him informed of your well-being, he knew you got the job you had interviewed for a few days after he left. He wanted so badly to call you and congratulate you but given how he had spoken to you the last time you spoke, he didn’t think you would want to take his calls. He sent you flowers, though, he watched from afar as you received them and brought them inside.

He refrained from going to the office to see you, only going back home for clothes when he knew you were out of the house. But by God did he miss you. Oh, how he missed you. He wanted to come home, talk to you, but your face when he said those words to you kept popping in his head. The way you shut down. The way the emotions disappeared from your eyes. The way your body just went lax, as if all the energy you had to fight this battle with him, all your resolve to be strong for him, all your love and respect for him just flew out of your body. And the way you simply turned around and slammed the door behind you…

He will make up for it. He had to. He knew that. But the shame of saying what he said to you in the first place stopped him.

Fuck, how could he ever make up for what he said to you?

He heard Tommy’s phone ring, the younger man picking up. His voice went from his usual volume to a hushed, secretive one, whispering or mumbling something Joel couldn’t quite make out.

Joel placed more books in the first box, getting the second box ready to put more books in. He grabbed a few from the top shelf, the small, metal box sitting there catching his attention.

The small metal box he had kept Eddie’s ashes in.

He put that in his room, if he remembered correctly. You must’ve taken it out after he left. He searched the shelf for the ceramic jar you kept your share of the ashes in, but it wasn’t there. Did you bring it into your room?

He went to your room, stopping a while, contemplating if he should open the door. He didn’t know why, but he needed to see the jar for some reason. Or maybe he just needed an excuse to stand in your room, get a whiff of you. The essence of you that he had been missing for the past two weeks.

Your room was empty, save for the bouquet he had gotten you, left on the bed. No jar. No books. No sheets. No clothes. No suitcases. You were gone, but the traces of your perfume was still strong, lingering heavily in the air.

He ran into the bathroom, your toiletries were gone.

He ran into the kitchen. Your mug was gone.

His heart turned cold.

“Tommy!” he called out, panicked.

Tommy appeared, looking solemn, as if expecting his call.

“Did she get a new place already?”

Tommy leaned on the kitchen wall, hands in his pocket. “You can say that.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“She got the job, remember?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s in Asia. Benny and Eric just dropped her off at the airport.”

Joel felt as if his heart stopped beating.

“When does the flight leave?”

“In two hours.”

Joel jumped out of Tommy’s truck, gunning it through the crowds. He kept calling you, but you didn’t answer. Tears were pouring down his cheeks, his breath in short bursts, his heart trying not to collapse in his chest. He kept redialling, hoping to God by some miracle he would hear your phone ring and locate you amongst the sea of people around him. He ran and ran until he finally heard a faint ringing. He turned around.

There you were, standing there looking at your phone, your backpack strapped on your back.

“Daisy!” he screamed as loud as he could. You turned and saw him, the crowds stopping to look at him for a split second before moving on with their lives. He frantically dialled your number again starting to run towards you, but two burly men in uniform stopped him, telling him he’s not allowed to go where you were without a ticket. You looked at him, at your phone, and turned it off.

You took your passport and ticket from the clerk at the desk before looking at him one last time.

Joel furiously rubbed his eyes off the tears that were clouding his view of you. Beautiful, perfect you. You stared at him from afar for a few seconds before stepping inside to the international barrier, safe from him, about to board a plane that would put two oceans between the two of you.  

He could only watch as you turned around and walked away to your new life, never looking back until you disappeared in the crowd.

Part 8

[qin-qin16]

[Color Spectrum Duo, hurt/ and a little bit of comfort, more of a bittersweet ending tbh, platonic? Romantic? Neither they know what they have, Killer doesn't know how a healthy relationships works and Color is too tired to pretend he is not affected by Killer responses] 

tagging my color spectrum duo moots @howlsofbloodhounds @ossiethegreat @toffeebrews

"Stop, just... stop." Color's voice quivers, and Killer is at a loss for what to do.

The uncertainty causes his hands to tremble, his soul to drift farther from his sheltered ribs, his skull to break into beads of sweat, and his empty eye sockets to scan Color's face, searching for an escape, for some hint to resolve the situation.

But there is nothing except an unusual shift in gaze – an action outside the pre-programmed script. And Killer doesn’t know how to respond without the usual, predictable answers from them.

"I don’t even know what to say anymore..." Once again, Color's trembling voice echoes through his skull, followed by a wet, stifled sob caught in his vertebrae. "I don’t—I don’t know what to do anymore, Kei..." The name escaped his lips, ragged, dragging itself across Killer’s bones like a curse.

That wasn’t his name. The target on his chest quivers, and a tingling sensation spreads through his ribs. But of course, a small voice whispers in his mind — why would he be calling for him? The killer? Of course he seeks the comfort of the poor, lost lamb. He’s calling for Sans.

His smile didn’t fade; on the contrary, it seemed to stretch wider across his face, the edges straining to stay in a half-moon shape — revealing the row of teeth Killer had always enjoyed showing. He forced his body to stay still, suppressing any urge to recoil that his bones wanted to act on as Color drew closer.

And no matter how loudly his instincts screamed for him to back away, no matter how his skull was soaked with more sweat, Killer remained motionless — his feet firmly planted on the ground, his hands by his sides like a lifeless doll.

"Kei..." Stop saying his name, is what Killer wants to growl back, to whisper against Color’s face as he wipes his tears on his hoodie, pressing his face into his covered collarbone.

"I’m here." The words slipped out before he could think, as if they were programmed into him — exactly what he was supposed to say. "I’m here, habibi..." Nothing follows the emptiness of his words, except the strange weight of them, as if they weren’t his to speak.

His hands remain limp at his sides, fingers numb beneath the sleeves. Killer can feel Color's arms wrapping around him, pressing close through the thick hoodie he wore — Color’s hands gripping the fabric tightly.

But the tingling in his fingers had already spread through his arms, overtaking him as his soul was crushed between their bodies — suffering, pain, exhaustion — Color didn’t even realize all the intentions he was revealing to Killer’s twisted soul in a silent, uncomfortable speech, made even more unsettling for the red rings.

The sobs didn't stop, nor did the tears trailing down his hoodie; Killer’s apathetic whispers seemed to have no effect, not even the weak nuzzle that Color so often loved to do with him. Everything Killer had seen the other do with him wasn’t working, and the responses he desperately hoped would make a difference amounted to nothing.

All he could do was wait; wait for some other call from Color, wait for him to stop crying on his chest, wait for something different to happen, wait for an order, a command, anything...

Wait for Sans to take his voice and know what to do.

[kymera219]

FIRST LINE GAME

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway

I was tagged by @recluserat, thank you lovely!

1.) Where the Flowers Lay(The Memories Remain)

"Hey Peter?"

"Hmm?"

"How come your eyes are blue?"

2.) Canines and Confectioneries

Hey guys I'm ba-OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Derek looked between Stiles and the box of chocolates he and Peter were sharing with utter confusion.

"Uhm....eating?"

3.) The Best Part for Me (Is Laying Next to You)

Stiles Stilinski had an unusual habit.

Whenever he'd fall asleep(aka crashing after a week long research binge), he somehow ended up draped across one of the other pack members . At some point, he'd cuddled pretty much everyone in the group.

Everyone except Derek.

4.) Contact Chaos

Deucalion was looking over the latest edition to his book collection (one of many his mates had gifted him with since his sight was restored) when his phone rang. He answered it without looking up from the tome, and was rather surprised to hear a total stranger on the other end.

"Deucalion Blackwood?"

"Speaking."

"Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once. We have your son, and if you ever expect to get him back alive, you'll do exactly as I say."

5.) New Year's Resolution Solution

What are you doing?"

"Oh nothing," Peter mused as he continued to mess with things on Stiles's desk, "just updating this quite frankly abysmal resolutions list you have here."

Stiles snatched the paper out of his hand, and rolled his eyes at the fact that what he'd written down had either been scratched out or heavily edited.

"Peter, does this say commit MORE crime?!"

6.) A Familial Present

Here."

Peter stared at the crudely wrapped box in his hands with a feeling of confusion, a feeling that increased when he saw who gave it to him.

When Stiles told him that he'd invited Malia to their house for Christmas, he hadn't expected anything to come of it.

Granted, he and his daughter had gotten a lot closer recently, especially after he regained the Alpha status and she joined his pack. Still, he never thought she'd actually respond to the invitation, let alone bring a gift for him.

Yet here she was, standing before him, giving off a scent of nervousness so strong that it overpowered everything else.

7.) My Furry Little Friend

Stiles Stilinski was not someone who kept pets.

Sure, he'd had that boa constrictor when he was younger, but that was it. Most of the time, the guy could barely keep himself alive, let alone an animal.

So color Scott surprised when Deaton sent him to Stiles's address with a large order of pet supplies. Thinking it had to be a mistake, he set everything on the porch before opening the door and going inside.

"Hey, Stiles? You here? Deaton sent me over with a weird order in your name, and I wanted to...HOLY SHIT!"

8.) Christmas Clause-tastrophy

"Let Stiles drink the spiked eggnog you said....it'll be fun you said....."

"How was I supposed to know he'd be such a lightweight, Peter!"

"Well maybe if you had bothered to find out before letting him go through half the punch bowl, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

9.) I'll Always Choose You

The last thing Peter expected when he entered his apartment and flipped on the lights was to find someone already inside. He bristled in alarm for a brief moment, then immediately calmed when he realized the person sitting on his couch was his Mate.

"Stiles," Peter said as he set his keys on the side table and closed the door," not that I'm not happy to see you, sweetheart, but why were you sitting in the dark?"

Stiles looked up from where he'd been staring at the floor, and Peter could tell from the red-rimmed, puffy eyes that he'd been crying. The wolf inside him raged, and he had to fight the urge to immediately go and rip apart whoever put that look on his boy's face.

10.) Spooks, Kooks, and Werewolves Oh My

"Why are we here again?"

"Did you seriously just ask why we're on our honeymoon? Cause that just makes me question your first marriage even more than usual."

Tagging @jadezdominion @jagged1 @kimmycup @deliciousblizzardshark @infiniteeight8 @clareguilty

[callsign-venus]

For the Love of Love | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader | Part II

Part I | Series Masterlist

Summary: You immediately have doubts. As the morning goes on, they only get stronger. Good thing Bradley can be normal about this. Right?

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: fake dating, fake dating Bradley Bradshaw in particular, completely implied age gap

a/n: Thank all y'all for the response to the first part :) I was so nervous to post it, but everyone has been so kind and encouraging! Also, I've created a taglist for this series -- please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future updates! Ok, ok, let's get this show on the road (literally, we're on the way to Tahoe lol), enjoy x

It was 6:15 am. Streetlights washed your walls a bright, sterile white. You paced in front of your door. Next to it, your pink luggage set waited for you dutifully. Bradley was supposed to pick you up 15 minutes ago. He hadn’t responded to any of your texts. Or your calls.

Were you dumb for thinking he really wanted to join you – and your entire family – in Tahoe? Was he drunker than he let on last night, or maybe he forgot entirely? You hoped not, you’d already bought him the seat next to you on the plane. You really didn’t want to explain to your parents why they were paying for two plane seats when only you arrived at the cabin.

You checked your phone. 6:17. Soon, you’d have to drive by yourself. Maybe he’d catch you at the airport.

Just as you made for your keys, there was a sharp knock at your door. You undid the deadbolt and flung it open. Bradley stood in the sickly yellow light of the hallway, looking better than you wanted him to in just gray sweats and a black hoodie.

“Good morning!” He was surprisingly chirpy for how early it was.

“You’re late. Why didn’t you answer my texts?”

“What texts?”

“The texts I sent you?” You grabbed all three pieces of your luggage and struggled through the door frame.

“My phone died.” He was tapping his phone screen like he was just realizing that it wasn’t turning on. He gave up, pocketed the phone, and lifted the two biggest suitcases out of your hands. “Jesus, how long are we going to be gone? It’s like you packed your whole closet.”

“Three days. But I have to be prepared.” You locked up your apartment and started down the stairs, your suitcase clanking down each step. Your neighbors were probably thrilled.

Bradley followed behind you, lifting your other suitcases as if they weighed nothing.

“So you’re just going to travel with a dead phone?” You asked when you finally made it to the lobby.

He shrugged. “Is your phone charged?”

“Of course.”

“Works good enough for me.”

He reached over your head to hold open the front door as you dragged your suitcase into the brisk early morning. His Bronco shone like adventure. You and Bradley loaded your luggage, and he opened the door for you to get into the passenger seat.

“Coffees?” You asked as he slid into the driver’s seat and started the car.

He glanced down at the twin iced coffees lined up in the cupholders between you. “I thought it'd help us get through the early morning. I didn’t know what you liked though, so I just got you my drink.”

You stabbed a straw through the plastic lid of the coffee and took a sip. It was shockingly sweet. You coughed a little.

“You like it?” Bradley smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’ve perfected my order. Caramel and white mocha and cinnamon sprinkle on top.”

You take another sip. Without the sweetness taking you by surprise, it was much better. “It’s good. I would have pegged you for a hot black coffee guy, though.”

“I’m full of surprises.” He merged on the freeway.

The sound of the road passing under the Bronco filled the silence of the car.

“So…” Bradley tapped his thumb against the Bronco’s wheel, the echoes of some song you didn’t know. “What’s your family like?”

You watched lights flick on in the windows of the buildings you passed. People getting ready for their typical days. You pressed down a shock of panic. This was absurd. But Bradley seemed committed, and if it was going to work, you had to set him up for success. That meant warning him about your family.

“Well, my Grandma Sybil and Grandpa Thomas have been married for sixty years. Obviously.” Nervous laughter bubbled from your lips before you could stop it. “They’re Grandma and Grandpa. I grew up going to their house and stuffing myself on her cookies and falling asleep on his lap. But Grandma Sybil can be… stern.”

He stopped tapping his thumb to snag his coffee and take a sip. “Like, how so?”

“She’s just a little rough around the edges. She had a tough life before meeting my grandfather, and though she softened to him, I don’t think she softened much to the rest of the world. Just, don’t take it personally if she doesn’t warm up to you right away. Or at all.”

“Noted.” You heard him swallow.

You picked at a seam in your pants. “And their oldest daughter is my Aunt Marnie. She’s married to Uncle Jim. They run a crystal shop just outside of Vegas. They might try to push moonstone or onyx on you. Just smile and accept it.”

“Ok. Marnie and Jim. Crystals.” He committed the names to memory.

“Their daughter Sabrine just got married.”

“You went to the wedding, I remember.”

You flushed, grateful that the sun hadn’t quite risen yet and the hotness of your cheeks dissipated in the darkened car. He had remembered. You didn’t think any detail of your life was important enough for him to care to remember – and it really was just one week that you were gone – but maybe your life had bled into the Daggers’ more than you thought.

As the airport came into view, you told him about Sabrine and how she would bring her new husband Matt. She was already seven months pregnant. Grandma Sybil was less than pleased, but Grandpa Thomas either didn’t care or hadn't worked out the math.

“And what do your aunt and uncle think?” Bradley asked.

“I think they’re just happy that she’s happy. They sound excited to be grandparents. But Auntie Marnie did complain that the wedding was tacky.”

Bradley snorted. “Was it?”

“It was sweet,” you said. “It was in his mom’s backyard. The colors were red and black, but it was sweet.”

An airplane roared overhead, glinting in the sun that was just sharpening over the horizon.

Bradley pulled into the airport’s parking garage. He had only packed himself a duffle bag, so he was able to carry all of your luggage plus his own. In exchange, you carried both coffees and locked the Bronco. You slipped Bradley’s keys into his pocket as he instructed, your fingers warming where they grazed the fabric of his sweats.

The airport was fizzing with the whispers of early morning travelers. You rubbed your eyes as you stepped under the fluorescent lights, taking stock of just how many others were yawning and lining up at the baggage counter under those same lights. Why was the airport so busy before 7am?

As if he could read your mind (or maybe he just saw you tense up at the sight of so many people), Bradley said, “It’s ok. We still have time.”

His reassurance drove you to action. You traded his coffee for your bags and shuffled into line for the check in counter. From the standstill line, you watched Bradley as he wandered around the walkway, taking sips of his coffee, staring up at the ceiling, and generally being a 6’1” hazard to the travelers rushing to get to the TSA line. You rolled your suitcases across the green gray carpets the check in counter line eked forward, nearly running into the old man in front of you as you kept your gaze on Bradley. Why was even his boredom endearing?

Just before you got to the front of the line, he stopped and stared up at the ceiling, causing a woman who was looking at her phone to crash into him. You giggled as you watched him apologize, and saw, in real time, as the woman went from indignant to flustered as she realized how hot he was. She tried to strike up a conversation, but he caught your gaze from across the room. Her eyes followed his, and when it hit you, she was quick to disappear into the airport crowd.

Your face grew hot. You mouthed sorry to him as the woman at the counter was calling you forward. You were a little sorry; she was very pretty. But some part of you delighted in being perceived as his girlfriend, even if it was easier to convince a stranger than your family.

“Ma’am, next guest.” The stern voice of the woman at the counter shook you from your thoughts.

Once your bags were checked, you caught up with Bradley. The two of you rounded the corner only to stop short when you saw the enormous security line.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you groaned.

“We’ll be fine. It’s only 7:15.” Bradley nudged your shoulder with his. “Plus, it gives us time to get our story straight.”

“Our story?” You asked as you both stepped into line.

“Yeah. Like, how did we meet?”

You didn’t skip a beat. “Nat introduced us.”

“That was quick.” He raised his eyebrows.

“Well, let’s try to stick with reality as much as possible. And my family loves Nat, her stamp of approval will go down great.” You really hoped no one could hear you two. But the steady murmur of overlapping early-morning conversation seemed to drown out your weird topic of conversation.

“Well, how long have we been dating?”

That you had to think about. “Well, it can’t be too short, otherwise it would be weird that I’m bringing you.”

“It’s already weird.” He laughed.

“They don’t need to know that,” you said. “How long do you think we could pass for? 2 months? 6?”

“Aren’t they going to ask why you’ve never talked about me or brought me around?”

“Good point. We’ll say 4, and I’ll just tell them I wanted to be sure before I told them about you.”

“You think we could convince them we’ve been dating for four months?”

You shrugged, but your stomach somersaulted. “We can try.”

“Like this?” He grabbed your hand and laced his fingers between yours.

Your hand tensed. Your stomach did a whole gymnastics routine. You were holding hands with Bradley Bradshaw in the airport. You looked around, sure that any TSA agent in your vicinity could sense your anxiety and pull you for secondary screening.

“Relax.” He patted your hand with his free one. “We’re not going to get far like this.”

You forced your fingers to meld with his. The iced coffee and your nerves were a terrible mix for your empty stomach.

“Better.” He kept hold of your hand as you shuffled up the line. Then he grinned.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You know those couples in lines at amusement parks?” A lopsided smile brightened his face. “When they’re waiting in line?”

“The ones that are really into PDA?”

“Exactly.” He dropped your hand, slid up behind you, and wrapped his arms across your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. “All we need to do is follow their lead.”

You did everything in your power to stay upright and keep your breathing steady with his chin pressing into your skin. He kept hold of you as the line moved up. You clenched your hands, your nails digging crescents into your palms. There was no way he couldn’t hear your racing heart and your ragged breathing.

“And there’s this move.”

As the line slouched to a stop, he spun you around, still keeping hold of your waist, but now you were face to face. You looked up at him, tried to form a sentence, but found yourself completely dumb. He leaned his forehead against yours. Surely he could feel the warmth of your face, see the confused longing in your eyes. He smiled at you for just a second before he broke away from you and threw his head back laughing, drawing glares from your fellow sleep-deprived travelers.

You were practically mute through the rest of security. Bradley seemed to have fun grabbing your hand, draping an arm around your shoulders, and messing with your hair. You wondered if he knew the effect he was having on you or if he was earnestly trying to practice for your family. Maybe he was just trying to rile you up. 

“You were great.” He patted the top of your head, causing your heart to shrivel a bit. “We’ll have them all wrapped around our fingers.”

You cleared your throat and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Once you were through security, you broke up to scrounge some breakfast. Well, that’s what you let Bradley think anyway. You tried to beat down the butterflies in your stomach as you wove between slow-walking travelers toting huge suitcases and knots of families with waddling toddlers, straight to the bathroom.

The stall offered you just enough privacy to freak out. You felt your face, your waist, flexed your hands right in front of your eyes. It took you months to not freak out about the platonic arm draped around your shoulders, his quick hugs goodbye at the Hard Deck. How on Earth were you going to be normal about this?

He complimented you on a job well done, but in truth, he did all the work. You didn’t reach out for him once in the security line. Would your family even believe you liked him? After that performance, the idea that they could possibly think that you were in love seemed laughable.

The weekend stretched long ahead of you. You were beginning to realize how stupid it was for you to begin such a ruse that you’d have to keep up for three days. You wondered if Bradley would react poorly to being sent home after already getting through security.

You hurriedly texted Nat – who knew very well how you felt about her coworker, almost to the point where she might have purposefully orchestrated your trip. It was a bit of a text wall, detailing the TSA line and your dread about the weekend. If she wasn’t already working, she would probably be asleep for three more hours, so you pocketed your phone after hitting send.

The sound of a flushing toilet reminded you that, yes, you were having a small crisis in a public bathroom. That thought was so sad that you took a deep breath, set your shoulders, and walked out of the stall to face the world.

From a little store, you picked up a berry parfait for breakfast and a bottled orange juice, since the TSA confiscated your half-empty iced coffee.

You found Gate 4. People were falling asleep upright in the airport seats, blankets and pillows abound. It smelled like the Jack in the Box across the way. You found two empty seats by the window and kicked up your feet to reserve one for Bradley.

He found you ten minutes later, carrying a bag stuffed with two bagels – one sausage and egg breakfast sandwich and one cinnamon raisin with strawberry cream cheese, he explained. You nodded as you dropped your feet and scraped the rest of your yogurt out of your cup.

“So your cousin Sabrine is pregnant and your grandma isn’t happy,” he said around a big bite of bagel, egg, and sausage. “What else?”

“Well, my grandparents’ youngest child is Auntie Elaine. She lives in Alaska with her husband. They breed sled dogs.”

Bradley paused right before another bite. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Some of their dogs run the Iditarod, and I think one was part of the winning team a few years back. They have twins a little older than me. Nora and her wife Madison, they’re… really cool. Last I heard, they were climbing K2. And there’s Nora’s twin brother Owen. He has a girlfriend named Addison, which I think is funny. Madison and Addison. The twins don’t think it’s as funny as I do.”

Bradley laughed. The bagel sandwich was gone, and he traded the leftover wad of greasy wrapping paper for the cinnamon raisin bagel. “And what’s the deal with Owen and Addison?”

“They’re pretty chill.” You thought about it for a minute. “Owen used to punch drywall, but he’s calmed down.”

Bradley stared at you, waiting for you to laugh.

The gate agent called you to board before you could explain. Though you didn’t think any explanation would be helpful.

The plane ride was nice and short. You slept through most of the hour and a half. You were mortified to wake up on Bradley’s shoulder as the plane jolted in the harsh turbulence that shrouded the Reno airport. 

You sat bolt upright, fully awake. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He patted your thigh assuredly. “It’s good practice.”

You didn’t have time to freak out at his touch because the plane rocked again. You’d experienced this turbulence countless times, something about the mountains and the desert air made the plane bounce around like a toy in the hands of an overexcited toddler. Still, as the plane jerked down, it planted a pit in your stomach that made your hands clammy.

When the plane dipped again, you clutched the armrest. You didn’t want to look at Bradley, who probably thought your overreaction was silly. He’d experienced g-forces upwards of 8Gs countless times. It was bad enough flying next to Nat, who you knew would never judge you, but next to Bradley, you felt like a little kid scared of the dark.

“Hey,” he gingerly pried your hand off the armrest and held it with a softness you didn’t expect from him, “look at me.”

You tore your eyes away from the flight tracker on the display in front of you, worried you’d see judgment in his dark eyes. But his expression was everything soft.

He smiled when you met his gaze. “We’re going to be fine. Trust me, I’ve flown a plane or two.”

You laughed despite the plane suddenly banking upward.

He squeezed your hand as the plane leveled. “So here’s the deal: you keep looking at me. You can only panic if I start panicking. Deal?”

You nodded. “Deal.”

He held your hand and your eyes until the plane kissed the blessed tarmac. By then, the pit in your stomach had been flooded with a mushy feeling you simply did not have time to drain because the seatbelt sign dinged off, and you had a rental car to secure.

Getting out of the airport went as smoothly as possible. Within 20 minutes of deboarding, you and all your luggage was crammed into a rental Prius. Bradley’s nose crinkled when he first saw it, but he folded himself into the passenger seat without complaint.

You fiddled with the radio until you got it to play a throwback ‘70s station, then peeled out of the airport. Soon, the dusty city of Reno and its casinos were in the rearview, and the Sierra Nevadas loomed large on the horizon. When the road lifted off the desert floor and began winding through the foothills, childhood excitement drummed through your veins. As the car screamed along the highway, desert scrub blurred into pine trees that jutted straight up toward the endless blue sky. Patches of snow bloomed in their shade.

“Wow,” Bradley said as the trees grew thicker like a tightly stitched blanket over the mountains. Snow carpeted the ground. Little cabins shone through the forest and snow like jewels.

“Wait until we get around this mountain.” You couldn’t keep the smile off your face. You carefully made a sharp turn, the mountainside steep and unwelcoming. But as the car straightened out, the trees yawned apart, and you caught Bradley gawking at the lake out of the corner of your eye.

Nestled between snow-draped mountains, it shone like a sapphire in the late morning sun.

You’d spent several summers splashing in its frigid waters with your cousins until your skin was so covered in goosebumps that Grandma Sybil threatened to pluck you for Christmas dinner. The same lake was the backdrop to hundreds upon hundreds of ski runs and one trip down the mountain with ski patrol. Your arm still ached to think about that late February day, even all these years later.

“It’s beautiful,” Bradley said, and you agreed wholeheartedly.

Your phone’s navigation system stated that there was only 20 minutes until you reached your grandparent’s cabin. You sucked in a breath between your teeth and cracked a window, hoping the cold, piny air would help settle your stomach. It didn’t. But you still had to finish giving Bradley the family rundown.

“My parents are Sean and Catherine,” you said. “My dad might try to intimidate you, but don’t worry, he’s a softie.”

“Ok.”

You couldn’t be sure he was paying attention, as his face was all but pressed against the window, soaking in the spectacular views. Even if you wanted to be mad, you really couldn’t blame him.

You stepped on the breaks as the road started dipping down a little. “My mom will be the most problematic. I swear sometimes she can read my mind. Whatever we do, it’ll be hard to convince her.”

“We’re going to be there in 18 minutes. Next time, a little more heads up please?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Your grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Just tell her that you take me to Vino in La Jolla and buy me flowers.”

“Is that what your ideal man would do?”

Would it be so bad if you just drove off the road? The steep mountainside looked more inviting by the second.

“Shut up.” You froze your gaze to the winding road. “I have a brother, his name is Tommy.”

“I know,” he said. “I think I’ve met him once – when he was in San Diego for spring break?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” you said. “Well, he and his girlfriend Georgia are high school sweethearts. They’re the perfect couple, and it makes me sick.”

Bradley chuckled. “Noted.”

“So first goal: be believable.”

He laid his hand on your thigh. “Done.”

“Good.” His hand was burning hot. The car swerved ever so slightly as you lost focus on the road for a moment. “Second goal: be a better couple than Tommy and Georgia.”

“Let’s not try to overshoot this. We’ve only been dating for 4 months.”

You laughed in spite of yourself. When you eventually found your real partner, and everyone gathered in Tahoe again for Tommy and Georgia’s wedding, or a wintery ski trip, or whatever comes next for your family, you’ll come clean. You’ll cling to your partner and tell everyone all about your good friend Bradley Bradshaw and how the two of you never really dated. Your grandparents’ anniversary will be a hazy memory, but everyone will remember the tall, good-looking naval aviator and his (totally out of season) Hawaiian shirts and giant mustache. There would be shock, but eventually it would be an inside joke for years to come. You just had to get through this weekend.

Too soon, you were pulling into the cabin’s long, steep driveway. The cabin itself jutted off of the mountainside, its tapered roof giving it a harsh look, though you swore when you were little it just made it look cozy and inviting. Its windows were like glassy eyes following the Prius.

You put the car in park and turned to Bradley.

“Ready?” You asked.

“Ready, babe.”

Before you could fully register the fact that he called you babe, the cabin’s front door slammed open, and your family bursted out to greet you and the mysterious man you’d arrived with.

The knot in your stomach tightened like a noose.

Read Part III here!

Taglist:

@djs8891 @avengersfan25 @cornishkat @julielightwood @makingpeoplelaughsince1995 @abitdemented @darksparklesficrecs @igotmajordaddyissues @cupofchamomileeee @imaginationlover101 @simpfictionalcharacters

[blackstargazer]

mid-story line tag

(10 lines from the middle of 10 fics & tagging 10 people)

Run, do not walk to @shyinsunlight’s lines. You’re in for a treat! (Thank you for tagging me ♥️)

In no particular order, because I am a chaos goblin:

XIV. Temperance

“What did I say about your hands, mon tigre?” A shaky, frantic voice ripped through Barty. “I haven't moved them—I—I swear.” Orion raised a brow before giving a sing-song reply, “But you did. And what did I tell you I would do?” Barty thought back to those tender kisses along his neck, “You said you would punish me.”

Bat Out of Hell

“Are you going to take my life like you promised?” “Reply hazy, try again.” Sirius answered, then tossed the ball to Barty who caught it one handed. “I suppose a better question would be,” Sirius purred as he sauntered over toward the younger man, winding his index fingers through Barty’s belt loops and tugging him forward so their hips were flush, “do you want me to?”

Undisclosed Desires

“That’s the difference between you and James and me and Barty. You and James live in this fun little bubble where you never share your true feelings.” “Yes, we do!” Sirius denied. “Not really. You, in particular, are afraid of judgment and have held back your desires—your wants—for fear of disrupting the status quo. And I can only surmise that James does the same. Either that or he’s incredibly boring and has never had an impure thought better left in his perfect little head.” Regulus pouted. Sirius’ smirk grew, and he tutted as his waves crashed against his cheeks. “Oh Reggie, I assure you, James is far from an angel . Do you want to know a secret?”

Arcadian Sunset

“When the devil comes knocking, you be sure to tell him I send my regards.”

Cowboy Killer

“Don’t tell me you’re done already.” Remus whispered, crimson lining his teeth as he worked his way up to Sirius’ ear, “Are you gonna come in your pants like a teenager? I thought you could handle a rough ride, darling. You wouldn’t want to ruin those fancy fucking pants, now, would you?”

Wild Things

"You know what your problem is?" Barty said as he took an impossible step closer, so their chests were touching, and Regulus had to look up even further, "You spend so much time stuck in the past that you're missing your present, your future. You're scared, Regulus, because you've been burned before. You're scared that you'll be burned again. So frightened that you're missing what's right in front of you."

XX. Judgment

“I don’t conform to anything—I would have thought you had known that by now.” Barty countered. Orion tutted as he stopped his rotation and stepped behind Barty, so their faces were directed toward the camera. A firm hand gripped Barty’s left hip, and the right hand of his father wrapped around a pliable throat as he purred gospel into his ear, “ahhh, but you do pet. You mold yourself into the image they expect to see when they look at you.” “And what do they expect to see?” Barty moaned out as Orion’s slender fingers traced along the barred throat. “Deviance, frivolity, anarchy.” Sirius watched as his father looked directly at him through the screen, paying no mind to the boy in front of him apart from the gentle caresses against his skin, and Sirius burned. “You refuse to look inward toward the reality of who you are—what you are—finding only a verboten, sinful, rancid soul and judging what you see through their lens, rather than your own.”

Waiting for the Spark

Regulus’ fingers began to ache; he was certain they were probably bleeding from how quickly he was typing and the force Regulus exerted onto each key, desperate to finish but knowing he was barely halfway. He idly thought about the sheer will James Potter was exuding as he managed to keep his cock up this whole time, barely satisfied by the clenching of Regulus’ center.

Broad-Shouldered Beasts

“No, no, no—I took your wings.” Betrayal marred his features, and he stepped back away from the angel. “Oh—Evan. Stop. I just told you I can change you back. I just wanted you to enjoy this for a moment. To see what you’ve missed.” “What I miss is my wings, Pandora . Give. Them. Back.” An impish smile rose to her face, “Not until you stop, take a look around, hear the sounds of the earth, smell the roses, taste the rainbow, feel mortality.”

Through the Looking Glass

“Sirius—he—Sirius cannot lose you again. It will break him—and he—he’s come so far, Regulus. These few months with you have been the happiest I’ve seen him in—well—since first year. And it would damage him beyond repair if you—he’ll take you however he can get you—in whatever way you feel most comfortable with. Be it brothers or—“ James’ wrist rolled in the air as he searched for another label that would be appropriate.

Please don’t feel pressured to participate if I tag you, and if you’ve already been tagged for this before—send me the link so I can read your lines 🙏

@andwaitforthespark @faeries-withspirits @snarky-magpie @wormvirtues @galaxoshine @bradleysass @astracoreiisblog @havocpusher @plumsmadness @star-liit

[kedsandtubesocks]

12:07 am - Gojo Satoru

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☽ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Happy birthday to our Sagittarius boy, you are so deeply loved Gojo

tags: sweet fluff with a surprise ending - just like how the birthday boy would want it

wc: 1.6k

The weeks leading up to Gojo’s birthday have been a nightmare.

Whenever you casually tried asking your boyfriend what he wanted for a birthday present, his answer was always the same -

“You. You’re all I need.” And he said it with the same toothy genuine grin.

You still wanted to try and get him something though.

However… fate decided she instead wanted to fight you at every step.

The special outfit you ordered with the hope of it arriving in time for his birthday ended up back ordered and wouldn’t be shipped for another week. The cake shop you planned to grab his birthday cake from had an unexpected construction issue. The surprise trip you had been secretly trying so hard to plan grew harder and harder to figure out with Gojo’s constant meddling. Plus, with his hectic unpredictable schedule you wondered if a trip, surprise or not, was even possible.

Discouragement consumed you fast and the bitterness still lingered on your tongue. Even now, as you hung up streamers in your shared apartment, you wondered if this would even be enough. Were you even enough for a man who could have anything in this world?

Climbing down the small stepladder, you glance at the clock.

11:47

Just a few minutes short from the time actually turning into his birthday.

You’re at least thankful this week’s mission would keep him away until the morning. The extra time became a blessing and allowed you to decorate before he came home. You wanted to try and stay awake to greet him. But as more and more yawns over took you, you think maybe you might not be able to.

So you decided for the next best option. You already had most of the table set up for Gojo to see when he walked further into the apartment. Large balloons covered most of the table. Vibrant streamers hung from above. Your card for him sat waiting. And now you’d place out the final piece.

It wouldn’t be the cake you had hoped for, but the assortment of cupcakes you snagged from a bakery nearby were pretty adorable. You now move to set them out on the table.

The keys jingling however suddenly ring into the apartment.

No. He couldn’t be home now. Then the apartment door unlocking ignites panic. You rapidly place the cupcakes down on the table, and scurry to the door.

And there he is. The strongest sorcerer.

Satoru, even still in his work uniform, looks like a quiet dream in the soft light. Even as he unceremoniously drops his travel bag without a care. He shoves his blindfold up and those mythical cerulean eyes of his twinkle.

“Well now, what are you still doing up?” Gojo grins, his voice warm and curiously excited.

“What are you even doing here?! I thought you weren’t supposed to be back till this morning?!” You fire back.

“What? Can I not sneak back early for my birthday?” Satoru smirks while he walks towards you to already lean down to kiss you.

Then, he freezes. His eyes flicker to stare out behind you and you turn around. A balloon softly rolling out gives you away.

“Oh?” His damn amused voice twinkles brighter. “You having a party without me?”

“Yeah. I was waiting for my secret other boyfriend to come over until you showed up.” You playfully tell him.

“I just got home! Why do you wound me so?!” Gojo shrieks in horror. Quickly he draws you into his arms and holds you tight. You can’t help but burst into giggles as he playfully kisses every inch of your face.

You just accept your surprise is slightly ruined. However, in your boyfriend’s arms, defeat doesn’t feel so bad. Once he sets you back on the ground, Gojo follows right behind you giggling like a gleeful kid about to meet Santa.

“Alright,” you sigh. “I wanted to surprise you when you got home and-”

As you walk into the kitchen, instead of seeing the cupcakes on the table, they now sit on the chair and are flipped over in their container.

Your excitement deflates and a wave of sadness swallows you whole. In the frenzy of Gojo coming home, you must have not place the container fully on the table and they fell.

“Wow!” Satoru cries loud and excited. “You set up all of this?! Look at all the balloons?! And the streamers!”

You can’t even look at him, or even acknowledge him. Your focus is only on the ruined sweets you silently approach.

His voice vaguely behind you now sounds distant and concerned.

Tears begin clogging your throat and you furiously, angrily, blink them away. You shouldn’t be this upset. They’re just cupcakes. Gojo could buy a whole bakery if he wanted to. But maybe the exhaustion of the day catching up to you, or the frustration leading up to this, all of it has you crying.

Gojo cries out your name worried, panicked.

“Is this about the cupcakes?” He asks and his voice floats around you like a comforting balm.

“Because they’re not that messed up! Actually, they still look pretty intact if you ask me-”

“No.” You sigh through the hot tears. “It isn’t just about this.”

You explain everything. Before you can even get to how upset you were about the cupcakes falling, Satoru’s hands suddenly cradle your face. Swiftly he’s titling your head up and capturing your lips with his.

He kisses you fierce, dizzying, as if he’s trying to steal your breath away while also ground you completely to him.

“You damn adorable and gorgeous dummy.” Satoru whispers fiercely against your lips. “How many times did I tell you? You’re all I need.”

It gets harder fighting back the tears for another reason, one that’s sweeter than any confectionery.

You also realize you shouldn’t have doubted Satoru’s sugar skills because, like he prophesied, the cupcakes are actually pretty salvageable. And after pouting with the worst puppy dog eyes, Satoru manages to get you to at least split one of the cupcakes.

You glance at the clock.

It’s officially his birthday.

Your heart grows against its cage thinking of how grateful you feel getting to celebrate this incredible man. Even now as he tries to sneak another cupcake like you won’t see him.

Playfully you swipe your finger through the messy icing. You childishly place a dot of it on his cheek. Satoru’s sky blue eyes go wide a bit confused and stunned at the action while he turns to you.

“Happy Birthday Satoru.” You warmly tell him.

His handsome face melts, like he’s staring at the sun first breaking over the horizon and your heart trips over itself.

“You gonna lick this off me now?” He tilts his cheek and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. You laugh, shaking your head.

Suddenly an entire messy half cupcake smashes into your face. It mainly catches the side of your lips and more of your cheek. But icing is all over you now.

“What was that for?!” You screech.

“You started it first! You know I had to finish it.” He grins triumphant and it makes you want to pummel him, birthday boy or not.

“I’ll clean you up if you want?” He purrs suggestively.

“No! And no more cupcakes for the rest of the night!” You swat at the container as you close it. Satoru effortlessly and swiftly however sweeps you in his embrace.

He also flattens his frosting covered cheek against yours and rubs them together making you shriek at his ridiculous actions.

“Aw! Come on baby! It’s my birthday! You can’t do this to me!” Gojo wails.

“I’m tempted to lock myself in the guest bedroom for the rest of the night now.” You snap back.

“Oh like that would stop me.” Gojo snorts almost insulated and you know it’s true.

While still in his arms, Satoru suddenly kisses your cheek with his lips pressing against the icing. The sensation is squishy, strange but makes your lips twitch giddy.

“You’re my extra sweet treat.” He whispers grinning.

“You’re ridiculous.” You scoff without any malice.

Gojo simply beams bigger as he dives in to kiss your cheek again. He even playfully bites at your skin causing you to let out surprise squeak.

Unfortunately, another surprise yawn also escapes you.

“Alright, let’s put this party on hold till later.” Gojo says.

The cupcakes are put away. He drags you into the bathroom to help clean up the icing properly. As the night begins to unwind, you glance over at your boyfriend.

He really does seem carved out of a dream, so handsome it’s unreal. Yet a bright color of frosting faintly lingers against his cheek. Of course he didn’t wipe it off fully. So wetting a small hand towel you lean up to clean the last bit of frosting painting his cheek.

Gojo’s eyes flicker to you and his gaze stays intently glued on you.

“Next year I'll just have us plan a trip for your birthday.” You sigh thinking of how a trip to the hot springs sounds so nice now.

“Next yeah, huh?” His voice is colored playful, a shade just below a tickle-me-pink color.

“Yes, next year.” You playfully elbow him. “Unless you already have plans without me?”

He snorts. “No…I want as many birthdays as I can get with you.”

His words cause your heart to sprout wings and flutter wildly in your chest.

“Even if I decide to stick around and let you annoy me forever?” You offer light, delicate, and cautious.

Satoru chuckles softly. “Funny enough, I’m kind of hoping for that.”

His words, so simple and soft, wrap around you. Suddenly his hand again cradles your face. His thumb strokes your cheek tender and delicate. Your eyes can’t help but look up to him. In the warm bathroom light Satoru’s sky eyes shimmer like the ocean at dawn, deeply reflective, yet so bright.

He says your name and it’s caressed with such tenderness you feel it sinking into your bones.

“I realize what I want for my birthday today.” Gojo mutters. His eyes flicker to your lips.

“Oh?” You wait for his answer to be something crude.

But it isn’t.

“Yeah…I wanna marry you.”

[fairysluna]

INVISIBLE STRING | Chapter 4: you must like me for me.

New Girl!AU — A disastrous break up led you to them; three guys living in a huge apartment and in need of a new roommate who helped with the way too expensive rent.

MASTERLISTㅤ | ㅤSERIES MASTERLISTㅤ | ㅤPHOTO CREDIT

PAIRING - Modern!Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY - the unexpected presence of Aegon in your room brings the so desired moment of him finally seeing you as a friend. However, you were never good at giving advice and it all ends in a big mess.

TW/TAGS - cursing, body dysmorphia, mentions of blood, insecurities, this might be considered as a slight chubby!aegon, make out session, mentions of nudity, slow burn, friends to lovers, things get heated but nothing happens. If something is missing pls let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE - hi everyone, do you remember this fic? lmao. i know it's been MONTHS since i posted sth for this story, but well, i finally got the inspiration to write this, so this came out. I promise to be fully dedicated to this fic bc it's time i finish this already and bc im excited for it!! now im on vacations so i guess I'll have more time so... thank you if you waited for this fic, and thank you for reading!!🤍

WORD COUNT - 4.6k

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ english is not my first language.

When you finally entered the loft your right hand was holding three files filled with tests for you to grade while the other one was carrying your bag and the keys of your home. You quickly scanned the living room to see if someone was there in order to greet them, but it was empty and messy as usual; leftovers of pizza and a half empty bottle of Coke soda in the center table. “It must've been Aegon”, you thought.

With a sigh you walked towards your room, worrying not to drop anything from your hands and thanking the gods as you saw the door slightly open. You kicked it, accidentally hard enough to make it smack against the wall behind it, and as soon as you looked inside the room, your eyes widened in surprise and all the things that were held by your trembling arms fell around the floor.

Aegon was standing in the middle of your room, shirtless and in the middle of flexing his muscles right in front of your mirror. He noticed your presence immediately, and he ran towards his shirt that was laying on your bed and covered his naked chest with a wild expression remarkably printed on his now red face.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, breathlessly.

"This is my room!" you quickly replied, ignoring the thousands of papers that were now scattered on the floor.

"Weren't you supposed to arrive at six? It's four pm!" Aegon rapidly put his shirt back on.

"We- they let us go home earlier because it's the school's anniversary- what are you doing here?" you spoke, stammering and interrupting yourself. You were still a bit taken aback with this whole situation.

There was a slight moment of doubt in Aegon's mind that was quite evident for your observant eye; he looked away from you as his arms crossed in front of his chest to cover himself even when he was no longer exposing himself. You arched your eyebrow, silently insisting on an answer or some kind of explanation; two days ago you could have sworn he did not like you, but now seeing him standing in your room in such a condition made you overthink everything.

However, before you could think about questioning his lack of words, Aegon sighed loud enough for you to hear the embarrassment and resignation, and soon a mumble followed.

"You have a mirror," he replied.

His response did nothing but confused you even more. A frown appeared on your face, one small gesture that Aegon might have misinterpreted as an angered one if he hadn't known you enough.

"A mirror?" Aegon nodded.

"You're the only one who has one in the bedroom, and-"

"What about the bathroom?" You interrupted out of pure curiosity. "And Aemond has one too."

"Jace has been taking a shit for hours and Aemond forbade me to enter his room since what happened the last time." You were about to open your mouth to ask about it, but he was faster. "Don't ask," he warned you, and you pressed your lips together, remaining silent. "Listen, just forget this. I'm gonna leave right now, and we'll pretend this never happened. Okay?"

He started to walk towards you in order to cross the doorframe behind you. He passed right next to you, and for some unknown reason, your body decided to act before your mind could even process what was going on. Before you even noticed, your hand was wrapped around Aegon's wrist in a grip that was surprisingly strong. Aegon froze right in the spot and the first thing he did was to watch your hand, to then lift his face and lay his deep, lavender eyes on you.

Your jaw clenched, unsure of what to do since everything seemed to be happening strangely fast. The situation was confusing, and it made you act out of instinct leaving you standing there beside him, with just a few seconds left to say something before it turned into something awkward and weird.

Aegon, who would naturally and instinctively reject other people's touch, did not even attempt to push you away from him; he just waited until you removed your hand from his wrist. His reaction was quickly excused by his own mind, thinking that it was only because you took him by surprise.

"Uh…" you muttered, still trying to process what to say, "if- if there's something troubling you, you can tell me, you know? Maybe it's something I can help with."

He just shrugged, trying to make it seem unimportant.

"Not really," he said, leaving the room afterwards without saying another word.

You sighed, resigned to only be seen as his roommate and not as a friend. You tried not to think about it while you kneeled down to pick up the files and papers that fell from your hands when you entered your room, because you did not want it to let it bother you.

But, when you managed to put all your things on your desk, you turned around and saw Aegon standing in the doorway with arms crossed and a defeated look on his face, which had a slight pinkish tone that you would have found adorable in another situation.

"Actually, yes," he started, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, as if he was scared of someone else listening to the conversation. "I kinda need help with something… I- uh, well, you are a girl so you probably know about this stuff, so…"

It was a difficult task for you to hide the emotion that lightened up your face after hearing his words, finally seeing the perfect opportunity to bond with the guy that has been avoiding you for weeks.

"Of course," you replied, trying not to speak too fast. "I can help you with anything."

"Alright." He nodded, looking down at the floor as he seemed to be putting some order to his words before they left his mouth. "So, the girl you saw the other day, the girl in the bar, remember?"

"I knew you liked her!"

"Well, I just want to bang her, but that's one way to put it," Aegon shrugged after his explanation, while you pressed your lips. "The thing is that, I think she's super hot and gorgeous, and way out of my league, and-"

"Oh, Aegon, you are handsome too!" You interrupted, and he quickly started to look impatient.

"Yeah, but that's not the point," he said, exasperated. "The thing is, the last time that I had sex, the girl I was fucking- uh… well, she said something about my body that really took me off."

"What did she say?" You curiously asked.

"She kinda made fun of it," he replied quickly, as if he was embarrassed.

Your eyes softened immediately after, and your first instinct was to touch him to give him support; however, halfway there you remembered he did not like those gestures, so your hand ended up in the air and seconds later you put it back. Aegon's breath was caught in his throat as he saw how your hand was so close to his skin.

"I'm sorry, Aegon."

"And now I can't get naked in front of this hot girl, even when I really want to!" He cleared his throat, and his tone suddenly changed, now being more angered rather than sad. "I just want to get laid, but I can't! This chick cursed me or something."

"You're not cursed," you said, trying to comfort him somehow. "Listen, you need to work on your self confidence, and-"

"And how do I do that?"

"Do what?"

"How can I work on my self confidence?"

You frowned, "I don't- I'm not sure how-"

"Oh come on!" He raised his voice with exasperation. "You're a teacher! Aren't you supposed to give guidance to your students?"

"Well, my students don't usually ask for sexual advice from their teacher so…"

"You need to help me, please," he pleaded, and you could clearly see the despair in his eyes begging you to say something useful.

You knew you could not fuck this up, not when it was probably the only chance you could have to bond with him after days trying to make him look at you as a friend. Inside of your mind you tried to remember anything that could work in this situation, all those psychology seminars you attended during your college days were coming back to your mind as you thought of an answer.

"Well, you can… try to stand naked in front of a mirror, maybe after you shower, and see the qualities of your body that you like the most."

“Would that work?”

“It might.”

“You sure?”

“Uh… Yes.”

He stood there, silently looking at the floor as he nodded. He muttered something that sounded like a ‘thanks’, and then he slowly turned around. He was visibly embarrassed, he was feeling too vulnerable to look at your face after opening up to you. Of course you immediately noticed, and, as you tried to ignore it, you found some words that you thought he might need to hear.

"Aegon," you called him, and he froze with one foot out of the room and the other inside. He turned around to look at you over his shoulder, and you sighed, "just remember that every person has his own concept of beauty, and only because someone didn't appreciate yours, it doesn't mean other girls won't… We are all beautiful under the right pair of eyes."

He clenched his jaw, gave you a small –almost unnoticeable– nod, and he left. You stood there for a few more seconds before you returned your attention to what you were supposed to be doing. The papers that now were on your desk, were waiting for you to grade them. Just the mere thought of reading through them made you sigh with exhaustion.

It was going to be a long day.

A knock on your door got you distracted enough for you to stop doing your task. The pen dropped from your hand as you turned around to find Jace with a soft smile on his face. You smiled back at him.

“Hey,” you greeted him.

“Are you too busy?” He asked, “I've brought some Chinese food to eat for dinner.”

“Let me finish revising these papers and I'll be there in a minute,” you said as he nodded.

He was about to leave, but then he returned. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he started, “the bathroom lock is broken, so you need to knock before you get in, just in case we're inside.”

“Are you guys gonna buy a new one?”

“Yes. Aemond will go tomorrow after work, we'll divide the costs afterwards,” he explained.

“Oh, alright.”

“Now, hurry or the food will get cold,” he said, and then left the room leaving the door open.

You managed to finish the paper a few minutes later, and then you went to the bathroom to wash your hands before going to eat with the rest. You did what you were told, and you knocked on the door. You waited a couple of seconds, making sure no one would reply from inside before you finally opened the door.

As soon as you opened it, you saw Aegon standing in front of the mirror and staring at himself. Naked.

“Oh, Gods!” you yelped. Your eyes involuntarily taking a quick look over him.

Damn.

“What the fuck?!” he screamed, covering his nudity with both of his hands and wildly blushing.

“Oh gods, I'm so sorry-”

“Get out!”

You acted so quickly that your legs tumbled against each other on your way out. The loud sound of the door closing behind your back echoed in the empty hall as you covered your mouth with your hand, a nervous giggle escaped from your lips before you could even try to hold it back. Your eyes were wide open, and your mind tried to process what you had just seen; Aegon fully naked.

Aemond and Jace soon appeared in the hall as they heard the screaming and the door slam. You looked at them with your breathing fast and sharp, staring at them as if you've seen a ghost. Their curiosity peaked.

“What happened?” Aemond asked, visibly worried.

“Uh- I…”

“Are you okay?” he asked again, and you started to feel a bit overwhelmed.

“I just- I need to- uh… wait for me a bit, I'll- I'll be back in a minute.”

The heat on your cheeks was impossible to ignore as you locked yourself in your room, completely ignoring their questions; you were panicking. You felt dumb, and you closed your eyes frustrated knowing that you screwed it up. You invaded his space and now he will, inevitably, put some distance with you. Now you just wanted to bury your face in the pillow out of embarrassment. How were you supposed to talk to him now that you saw him in all his glory?

And, oh gods, there was glory.

You were ashamed of what just happened; or maybe you just felt embarrassed because you couldn't help but blush at the memory of his body.

The pillow between your hands went straight to your face, muffling the groan that you let go as you fell onto your bed. Gods, you were fucked.

That very same early morning, after finishing their shift, Aegon was supposed to make his first move on the girl who had been in his mind. It was already closing time, the bar was empty at 5am and there was only him and Ceryse. She would occasionally glance at him hoping he would notice that she wore her tightest shirt for him. However, Aegon was busy trying to cheer himself up, trying to forget about that stupid chuckle of yours that still echoed in his mind, haunting him like a fucking ghost.

He had heard you, and –of course– his insecurities made him think the worst.

He was so nervous. It was almost embarrassing how sweaty his palms were; the situation was out of his control and he hated it. He was barely able to focus on his task, absentmindedly cleaning a glass with a cloth as he tried so hard to ignore her presence just to not feel so anxious. His shaky hands failed, and his plan to go unnoticed was unsuccessful; the glass slipped from his fingers and broke into pieces on the floor.

Ceryse widened her eyes and she immediately went to help him, which only made things worse for him. In a desperate attempt to keep her away, he kneeled on the floor and started to pick the glasses with his bare hands, causing small cuts all over his fingers as he did. Low curses and soft moans left his lips as the pinching pain appeared, and Ceryse —as lovely as always— tried to stop him by grabbing his hands and forcing him to stand up.

“You fool,” she mumbled, looking at the bleeding cuts on his fingertips. “You hurted yourself.”

“It's not a big deal-”

“Let me get the emergency kit, don't do anything,” she went to the manager’s office and came back in about a minute later with a red and white box in her hands. Aegon was breathing heavily. He had never felt so insecure.

With the help of a forceps, she started to remove the tiny pieces of glass from his fingers. Aegon would hold his breath, not being able to control his heartbeat when he had her so close to him; he was able to smell her perfume and see her cleavage. He knew he had to be excited, he knew he had all the reasons to enjoy that moment, but you and your stupid giggle refused to leave his mind.

“There,” she murmured as she finished. “Nice and clean.”

Aegon looked at his fingers and noticed how small drops of blood were forming in the tiny cuts. Ceryse took a small tissue and gently tapped on the wounds, cleaning them. Aegon had his lips slightly parted, stiff as a rock as he was almost scared to move. He cursed again, and she softly smiled at him as she finished.

“There you go,” she said, “clean and healed.”

“Uh… Thanks,” Aegon replied, giving her an awkward smile.

She remained silent for a bit, looking at him up and down through her long, blonde lashes. She was visibly flirting with him, but he seemed to be ignoring her. Ceryse had been waiting long enough for him to make the first move, so she now took advantage of their situation; both of them completely alone in the closed bar, about to finish their night shift. She wasn't going to let this opportunity go.

“Are you done playing that game?” She asked. Aegon frown.

“What?”

“I've noticed the way you look at me, Aegon…” she murmured. His breathing was caught on his throat when she started to slowly unbutton her blouse. “I want to let you know that… I've been wanting the same thing for a long time.”

“What- I- uh… what?”

She giggled, and it was the sexiest sound he had ever heard, yet it wasn't enough to suppress your goddamn laugh. A small ‘fuck’ escaped his lips before he could hold it back, and her hands were pressed on his thighs as she leaned towards him. Aegon hummed, cheeks burning red as he felt so exposed all of the sudden.

“We're alone now,” she murmured, brushing her lips against his jaw. “We can do it right here, right now…”

“I don't know if- If it's a good idea…”

She looked shocked.

“Is Aegon Targaryen rejecting an adventure?” she teased him. “Who are you?”

“There's cameras.”

“I turned them off when I went to the office.”

“What if someone walks in?”

“That would only make things spicier.”

“What if it's Nick,” he said, referring to their manager.

“He won't come until 10am.”

He ran out of excuses. The eagerness was visible in her eyes as she bit her lip.

“I'm done waiting, Aegon…” she murmured.

“Ceryse-”

She silenced him with a kiss, and he widened his eyes. He was unable to concentrate on whatever was happening at that moment. His heart was racing, his breathing suddenly ragged, and his hands still shaking as he tried to hold her waist.

Aegon tried to focus and enjoy this. He closed his eyes and followed the kiss, but things got a bit more complicated when she daringly grabbed one of his hands and put them in her rear. Somehow, he felt uncomfortable, so instead of giving her a squeeze, he moved his hands to her hips.

Fuck, he wanted to run and hide.

When her hands attempted to go under his shirt, he squirmed away from her touch, still managing to keep his lips pressed against hers. She giggled, thinking he was just playing hard to get, but as she repeated the action, the outcome was the same.

“Come on, baby,” she murmured against his lips, starting to feel the awkwardness of the situation.

“Just- wait… Ceryse, wait.”

“Don't be shy now…” she said, biting his lip. Aegon hissed.

“I need you to wait- shit,” he said as he squirmed away from her touch once again.

She leaned back, taking a few steps backwards before she looked at him. Her hands immediately went to her chest, to cover the skin that was exposed thanks to her unbuttoned blouse. Her cheeks lit up like fire as she realized how uncomfortable Aegon was.

“Shit…” she murmured, feeling deeply ashamed. “I thought- I thought you liked me. I'm sorry…”

“I do, I swear, I- Ceryse!”

“I'm so sorry, Aegon.”

“No, Ceryse, wait-”

She turned around and left, picking her bag from the counter and leaving the bar in a hurry. Aegon stood there, frozen in his place, his purple eyes filled with confusion to what had just happened, and once the realization hit him like a truck, he brushed his hands against his face and sighed.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Back in the apartment, you were sitting drinking your morning coffee before going to school. You were staring at the news on the TV before you heard the front door slamming close. You jumped in your place, looking confused until Aegon appeared in your sight; your cheeks immediately getting warm as the image of his nudity came back to your mind. However, the expression on his face made you forget about all the embarrassment, and you worried instantly. You hurried to stand up from the kitchen table and go towards him, he groaned as soon as he noticed you were getting closer.

“Aegon, are you alright?” You asked, but there was no answer.

He walked past you, going to the kitchen and ignoring you completely. Of course that your preoccupation did not let you notice such a gesture.

“Hey, is there something you want to talk about?” You insisted, trying to look over his shoulder. “I know what happened might be a little embarrassing for you, but I just want you to know that I barely saw anything!”

Aegon ignored you again.

“Aegon, come on,” you said. “I can help you with anything-”

“Can you?” He interrupted you as he finally turned around and acknowledged your presence. “Because last time you helped me, you cause me another fucking trauma!”

Your eyes widened in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, closing his eyes while he debated inside his mind whether to tell you what had just happened or just keep it to himself. But you were annoyingly insistent, and he just wanted to be alone all day.

He always wanted to be alone when things went wrong.

“You fucked me up even more!” he exclaimed, making you lean back and your lower lip trembled, feeling awful. “I couldn't fuck Ceryse because your stupid laugh was replaying in my mind over and over again,” he confessed. “Like a fucking reminder that my body sucks!”

“Aegon, I didn't-”

“You fucking laughed at me!”

“I didn't laugh at you, Aegon!” you raised your voice, matching his tone. “I was nervous, it was an awkward situation. I saw you naked! Of course I would get nervous!”

Aegon went silent, pressing his lips in a thin line as his eyebrows furrowed. You took a step closer, but he took a step back. You sighed defeated, knowing that all the progress you have made to become his friend had easily vanished in a matter of seconds.

“Look,” you said. “I'm sorry, Aegon. I never meant to make you feel bad.”

He scoffed.

“Yeah, as if a simple apology would fix it,” he said, pettily.

You both stayed in silence for a few seconds, your lips pressed in a thin line as you tried to come up with a solution to your problem. It was certain that you did not have too many options, and Aegon was not giving signs of having an idea to fix it either. That is why you panicked, and your hands went to the hem of your shirt and started to lift it up.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he asked, scandalized.

“I'm getting naked so we can call it even,” you explained, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

“I don't want to see you naked! What is wrong with you?”

“Well, then what do you want me to do? I can't get inside your brain and take my laugh out of it.”

“I certainly don't want to see you naked!” he said.

“Alright, I'm sorry, okay?!” you quickly said, looking at his eyes. “I'm sorry that I laughed, and I'm sorry it made you feel bad.”

“That doesn't-”

“Shut up,” you interrupted him. “You are not ugly, you're hot. There, I said it! You have a handsome face and a hot body, and even though you're so grumpy sometimes, your face compensates for it. You know why? Because you are handsome, you idiot.”

“I-”

“I wish I could go with that girl and beat her fucking ass for what she did to you. I wish!” His eyes widened, he was slightly flustered. “She didn't know what she had. You're a good catch, Aegon, and if you don't start to believe it for yourself then no one will.”

You left the room in an overly dramatic walk, leaving Aegon behind with his eyes wide open and his cheeks red. His breathing, somehow, was fast and unsteady. His blood was running quickly down his body as he cleared his throat and turned around to worry about his breakfast. Yet, your words had left a feeling in his gut which felt quite nice.

Aemond suddenly walked out of his room and stopped when he saw Aegon standing in the middle of the open kitchen, staring at the unbaked bacon in the pan. He was weirded out by his brother's strange attitude.

“What's wrong with you?” Aemond asked.

Aegon woke up from his trance and shook his head.

“Nothing.”

He didn't sound too convincing.

“We made a pact, Aegon,” he reminded him, going towards the coffee machine and pouring some of it on a cup. “You are not allowed to sleep with her.” he whispered those last words just to make sure you wouldn't hear it.

“What are you talking about?” he scoffed.

“Just a reminder,” Aemond shrugged, sipping his coffee while Aegon finally turned on the stove.

“Shut up.”

It was 6pm when you arrived back in the apartment after a long day at school. You were dragging your feet through the hall and towards your room, noticing that neither Aemond or Jace had arrived yet, and Aegon was probably in his room. It had been a long day, and the only thing that you craved was a nice and warm shower before going to bed. It was a need.

After your discussion with Aegon in the morning and the tiny bug in your chest that was making you feel guilty all day, you needed some time to relax, to stand beneath the warm water and let it wash away all the stress of your body. So that's what you did.

You took off your clothes the moment you stepped into the bathroom, then quickly got in the shower, feeling the warmth wrapping your body. Your shoulders immediately relaxed and you saw all your troubles vanished in that instant, you let yourself sigh.

Your mind went blank and all you could feel was the warmth and comfort the water produced. It was lovely, it made you forget about all the issues and troubles.

When you finished, you stood there for a bit longer, enjoying the last moments of peace before you would cross your path with Aegon's.

What you did not expect was that, at the very moment that you opened the shower curtain, Aegon opened the door.

And he looked at you.

Naked.

You screamed as your hands went to cover yourself as much as you could. Aegon's mouth dropped as he stared longer than he should have, his pale cheeks turning red as he swallowed hard.

“Aegon!” you yelled his name.

Only then he seemed to react, because he immediately muttered a small ‘sorry’ and then he closed the door. You immediately took the towel from the hanger and you covered yourself, breathing fast. You almost slipped in your way out of the shower, silly movements as you were still trying to take in what had happened.

That goddamn door lock.

Then, in the middle of the silence, you heard him speak.

“Well, I guess we’re even now, aren't we?” he joked on the other side of the door.

“Shut up!” you said, between nervous laughs.

He laughed it off too, and that sound made you smile wider as your cheeks got warm.

It was true though; now you can finally call it even.

BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU

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[a-spes]

I litteraly can't stop thinking about this post from @whumped-by-glitter ~ Like, can we (please) take a minute to think about how perfect it's for Wandanat or BlackHill x young!R where they take her out of the Red Room?? | Warnings & Tags : messy blurb? (imagine? idk, just wanting to share my thoughts, and couldn't stop writing), mainly BlackHill, mentions of the Red Room/past abuses, no idea if that makes sense. Imagine, teen or young adult R that fails a mission, and is captured by SHIELD/The Avengers. R isn't really cooperative, even if she is not under mind control anymore, she firmly believes that. However, Nat just can't accept the idea of leaving her rotting in a cell for the rest of her life for something that isn't really her fault. Despite what R can say, Natasha wants to believe that it's not true, and that she will be able to show her that life is way more than the Red Room.

But it's not that easy. Nat more than anyone else knows that you don't come back from the Red Room that easily, and she can only assumes that it would be worst for someone that went under mind control. And she was right. At first, she tried to introduce you to how life outside is, how sweet it could be, but she quickly noticed that it didn't work. Whenever she asks you a question about what you would like, she gets no answer. If she doesn't tell you to eat or to go somewhere, you don't do it. The amount of time you didn't followed her or talked because she didn't especially told you to do so is insane, especially in the beginning. So she decides to do what she thinks it's best, even if she hates it: giving you order, being stern with you, offering you a place you know, where you feel safe (no matter how sick it's) because you can predict it, a space where you'll be fine as long as you do as your ask. The world is a big and scary place in which to evolve in, especially when you don't have the keys to understand it - what you do something you're not supposed to, and you're punished for that? R will eventually come here, but it'll definitely takes a lot of time.

But obvsiouly Nat' is hating herself for that. She knows she has to do it, for you, but it doesn't make it easier. She does it because she believes it will help you to feel better, and because if you're under her orders, they have less reasons to be worried that you would attend something under Dreykov's name (or try to go back to him). She feels guilty, and old thoughts about her not being better than the man that made them are coming back. But Maria/Wands are here to help their wife <3

AND SO, here is how I see things if it's WandaNat we're talking about - I picture Wands as the soft mom she is shown as in Wandavision, and she would definitely not appreciate Nat's methods. She trusts her wife, she knows that she has her reasons, and it must be the best way to help you, but she still doesn't like it. She hates the way you always look down, the way you would do everything her wife is asking without thinking twice about it, and most of it, she hates when you're calling Nat' "ma'am" or something else of that kind. She hates even more than her wife isn't saying anything. She didn't know you for long, but she already loves you as her own, and it pains her when you reject her. Sometimes, she and Nat would argue about the whole situation (and those arguments would definitely go too far).

BUT imagine if it's BlackHill?? Even better in my opinion, and definitely can't stop thinking about it ~ Because, unlike Wanda, Maria is directly concerned. She read your file, she saw footages of you killing dozens of people, she tracked you, lost men in the process, and she saw how you didn't seem to regret anything when she questioned you. So Maria has every reasons to be worried, especially for her wife's security (physically and mentally). What if it's just a part of a biggest plan to attempt to kill the redhead? Or worst, to take her back there? I can easily Maria being upset, and taking it out on the other recruit she is training (poor them), not daring to do much more than glaring at you, knowing her wife wouldn't appreciate. And even if she doesn't appreciate R, she trusts and love her wife, so she lets her do her thing. But she is always somewhere looking at you with a stern face, waiting for the moment you would make a mistake to step-in. But you never really make a mistake, always following Nat's orders at the perfection, which is kinda frustrating because then she has no reason to get rid of you. Except if one day R's misunderstood one of Nat's orders, which lead to a heavy situation <3 It's honestly the only situation I imagine leading to an argument between Maria & Nat. Like, maybe you hurt someone or stole something or idk, thinking you did good, and they would be proud, but when you come in the room they're just looking at you with that shocked face. But you did what you had to, no? That's exactly what you were asked to do, so why are they angry? AND IMAGINE THE ANGST FROM NOW. R's confusion, Nat' desesperatly trying to find a solution, trying to convince Maria that it was just a mistake (that was her fault because she is the one that wasn't careful with her words) but she doesn't change her mind. Pulling the "what if it happens again?" and "I am your superior, you don't get to discuss my order" cards, knowing that it would pain Nat', but she has to do it in order to keep her safe. Bonus point if Nat turns to Fury, trying to convince him as she knows her wife won't change her mind, but he doesn't say much, just agreeing with her agent, mumbling a simple "sorry" Nat doesn't want to hear. Obviously, it would eventually

AND (because there is more), I also can't stop thinking about that comment from @light-me-on-pyre ;

Like, I can easily imagine R hating Nat'. It would make so much sense because she grew up in a place where Nat' was pictured as the enemy, the one that betrayed "the ones that gave everything to her". But it wouldn't be the exact reason why R is hating Nat'. I mean, right, she hates her because she left, but mainly because of the consequences it had for the ones that came after - the worsened conditions, the mind control, etc - and how she succeed what's supposed to be impossible: leaving the Red Room. Not only physically, but mentally. Imagine R seeing Nat' on the news when she is on a mission or seeing her interacting with Maria/the Avengers, witnessing Nat' being happy. It's something she was told she doesn't deserve/will never have from a young age, so why would Nat' have the right to be happy when so many didn't? It was so much easier to hate on Nat' than on Dreykov all these years because she wasn't here, and no one would blame her to do so. But now? It's easier to continue hating Nat', for R to convince herself that the redhead is bad despite the appearances because it's easier than admitting that her whole life is a lie (kinda). And the fact that Nat' has to take the "bad guy" role in order to help R only makes things easier because, in the end, she is not different from the others, right? And so, as Nat' can't provide R the comfort she needs, it's all on Maria (at least for the beginning) who doesn't have a choice. But we all know that despite her cold demeanour, she is all soft, she is just scared for the ones she loves <3 Which includes Nat', because she saw how her wife is affected by your arrival. First, she has nightmares again because, with you, inevitably came back old memories and traumas. Then, Maria can see how her wife is so invested in your case that she barely sleep/eat/ (which is one of the reasons why she doesn't really appreciate R ...). But also, what would happen if they can't save you?

Bonus point if things get better but something happen, and everything get worse again, throwing away all these months of progress. But what if they don't have the patience to start all over again?

It's definitely (one of) my favorite trope because the amount of angst/comfort it holds is insane, and I am going crazy about it (you can tell by the lenght of that post that was supposed to be a few lines ...). Do I want to write something like that when I already have too many WIPs? Yes. Will I do it? I don't know, but I'll definitely be thinking about it 24/24 & 7/7.

[asterekmess]

Hi

I don't like Jackson Whittemore but I know you do so i just wondering what about him you like

Hmm, that's a hard question to answer, I think.

See, first thing to know is that I don't like Jackson as in I agree with his behavior or see him as the victim/the one in the right, etc. I like Jackson as in I like the potential he had, and the possible layers that could be applied to him, whether the writers intended it or not.

Jackson is indubitably an asshole. Straight up. He's the stereotypical jock bully. The equivalent of a quarterback, dating the queen bee in school, stepping on everyone around him to get what he wants.

But he isn't just an asshole.

There's more to what he does and how he behaves, be they reasons for that behavior, or things that change the perspective on what exactly is happening. I'mma pop in a read more to save people's eyes.

God forbid I manage to make a post that doesn't need an anti-scott tag, so we'll start with the way Jackson's behavior is framed and perceived. I personally ascribe to the implication given at the end of the show that everything we see is part of a story that Scott is explaining to a new Beta that he's trying to recruit into working for him/helping him. This means that everything we see is at least a little tainted by Scott's perspective. His biases, his preferences, and what he finds important.

This is important because of the purpose behind Jackson's character. He is written to be Scott's goal. Not his hero or his foil even. But his goal. Jackson is what Scott wants to be. He has what Scott wants. Every frame of Jackson's introduction is made to show this off. The girl (Scott falls for the new girl but can't bring himself to talk to her, while Jackson's in a happy, long-term relationship with the most popular girl in school) The game (Scott can't get on the field because of his health issues, and Jackson's team captain) The car (Scott shows up to school in a bike, and right next to him, Jackson shows up in a Porsche) The clothes (Scott's in hoodies and long-sleeves and t-shirts. He has to have his fucking tux mended the night of the dance. Jackson wears fashion show outfits.)

Key Note: Scott isn't jealous of Jackson. He doesn't want the same things Jackson has. He's envious of him. He wants what Jackson has. He wants to take it away from Jackson, and he doesn't want to share. He's not satisfied when he gets made team captain, because he's co-captain. But he is satisfied when he makes out with Lydia, not because he got a girl, but because he got Jackson's girl. When the show starts, Scott the human wants everything Jackson has, and in order to facilitate that and get the viewer to root for his cause, he views everything Jackson has as undeserved. (Stiles does the same in regards to wanting Lydia) His reasoning is that Jackson's a jerk, so why should he be team captain? Why should he get to date the pretty girl? Why should he get to be popular? He's mean, so he obviously doesn't deserve it.

He's not taking care of what he has, doesn't appreciate it, so he shouldn't get to have it. Scot is clearly in the right for wanting to take it away from him.

Everything we see Jackson do anywhere Scott can see him is pretty much coated in "I'm a dickhead" energy to further exemplify this. Every line is smarmy and self-serving, every action is selfish and has underhanded motives. And it's always to do with Scott for some reason. o.O He only made friends with Allison to get to Scott. He screws up Scott's chances on the field by getting the rest of the team to gang up on him. He screws up the molotov that was supposed to protect Scott. He rats Scott out to hunters. On and on and on.

But when I started watching the show again a while back with my husband, the scenes with Jackson started looking different to me. Knowing the scenes were being skewed and slanted, that the narrator isn't reliable, I tried to peel that filter back from the camera and tried to focus on what happened rather than how it looked.

For example; the scene in the cafeteria where Jackson shows up to his table and kicks another guy out of 'his' spot. The guy complains that Jackson never asks Danny to move, and Jackson looks totally unfeeling as he sits down. He's being a dick, right? Except that Danny responds to the complaint by pointing out that when this other guy sits next to Lydia, he does nothing but stare at her boobs. Yes, jackson's an asshole for kicking someone out of a seat. But I can't say i don't understand why he'd do it, if the guy was ogling Lydia enough for the rest of the table to notice. Jackson is protective of the few people he cares about, i.e Lydia and Danny. Another example I've mentioned on this blog is the bowling alley situation. Allison and Lydia are trying to come up with something to do for a double date, and Lydia brings up bowling. Jackson isn't into it because he apparently prefers to bowl competitively and doesn't think Scott or Allison are going to be good enough to interest him. Scott proceeds to claim he's Awesome at bowling.

Fast forward to the actual bowling, and Scott fucking sucks. Immediately, Jackson starts making fun of him and is a general dickhead. Then, when Scott gets better later on, Jackson becomes even more of a jerk. What a fuckhead, right? Except Jackson's teasing is based on the fact that Scott lied to his fucking face, and he wants people to know Scott is a liar. And when Scott starts getting really good, it's out of nowhere. THere is no Reason for his improvement. Spending half the game biffing every roll and the other half getting nothing but strikes is Not Normal. Jackson is already suspicious of Scott's improvement (i.e. cheating) on the field, so seeing the same shit happen here has to got to be infuriating. Scott can't even help himself from cheating at bowling. Jackson's complaints about Scott are only ever saying Very True things about him.

Right down to how Jackson and Lydia's behavior with one another is lewd and uncomfortable for everyone, until Scott's not looking at them anymore. How Lydia implies that she's constantly putting herself down and being smothered for Jackson's sake, because he wants her to. All pointing to Jackson not Deserving her.

This theme kind of continues through most of Jackson's scenes involving Scott. He's doing something that makes him look like a royal jerk, but then when you kind of pick it apart and focus on What is happening, instead of how it's being framed by the camera, things are a lot different than they first appear. Jackson's constant anger is often Very Reasonable considering the situations he's being put in.

When he's in scenes by himself or in ones that have nothing to do with Scott, he acts totally different. He's soft with Lydia, kind to Allison, he's emotional and a hard worker and he doesn't want to hurt people! But the moment scott gets involved, he snaps back to being a monster.

That isn't to say he's not a dick, or that he responds to his anger well, or that he isn't doing bad things. It's just to say that there's more layers to it than we might initially consider.

Like, look even the scene where Derek shows up at the school and asks Jackson where Scott is. Jackson's a fuckface and assumes Derek is on drugs and is Scott's dealer.

This is because for weeks he's been trying to figure out how Scott is cheating on the field. Sure, part of that is because he wants Scott taken down a few pegs so he can go back to being the best on the team, but there's more to it! Werewolves aren't an accepted or known about thing. Drugs is literally the only way that Scott would be able to get that good at lacrosse that fast. Jackson is team captain. If someone on Jackson's team is doing drugs, he will get in trouble. The whole team will be penalized and tested and scrutinized. He's trying to protect his team and his own reputation. He wants the cheater gone. I can't blame Jackson for being royally pissed by Scott not only doing drugs and endangering their entire season and team, but also having his drug dealer show up at school visibly messed up on something and asking around for him without even trying to hide what was going on. It's just rubbing all of this in Jackson's face.

I think Jackson had so much potential in a lot of ways. He was the ideal Beta for Derek, so much like Erica and Isaac and Boyd that it hurts. If the kanima hadn't messed him up, I really think he would've been a great member of their pack. When he goes to ask for the bite, he asks to be "one of you." Not to be a werewolf, not to be powerful. To be one of you. Part of the group. And despite ratting Scott out to the hunters at the end of season 1, whom literally everyone is fucking terrified of and he genuinely thinks is going to kill him if he refuses, he still makes a goddamn bomb with Stiles and goes with him into the woods to murder the exact werewolf who might've been able to give him the bite he wanted. He had no way of knowing Derek would become the Alpha afterward, and every reason to think that he was giving up any chance at getting the bite for the sake of stopping Peter. He did it anyway.

So, yeah, I have some interest in Jackson, in what he could've been, had the actor not left (i can't even remember if he was the one who left or if he got booted bc they wrote him out). Even the stuff that happens in season 3a, the way that the Alpha twins behave, so much of it implies that Jackson was supposed to be filling that slot that they gave Scott. The twins went after Lydia and Danny, they're perfect examples of what Jackson always wanted to be, and they have the ability to offer him even more power. It makes way more sense to me for them to have been intended to go after Jackson and try to lure him toward the Alphas, than for them to think that getting close to Lydia and Danny was going to matter even a little to Scott. Scott barely knows either of them! He has no reason to care, and it's weird the way the show suddenly makes him obsessed with their safety and friendship. Not to mention the whole Lydia thing of her being upset she always goes for 'bad guys'. Can you imagine the angst potential of Jackson being so easily duped by these cool guys who show up and join his friend group and offer him power and strength and friendship. And then realizing that they've got their claws in the two people he cares about more than anything, and that he doesn't have a choice anymore. They would own him, and he'd do whatever they wanted to keep Lydia and Danny safe. They might've even tried to get him to kill Derek, to steal his Alpha's spark the way they had, hoping that he'd get the full-shift ability along with it and be easier to control than Derek would. Or maybe they were after him because they thought (or knew about some secret way) they could bring the kanima back somehow and use him as their killing machine.

There's just so much that could've been, and so much that was that we couldn't even see. Jackson was a jerk, but he earned everything he had. All the captain spots and team leader positions, he got them because he worked his ass off. We see that in the show. There's a whole scene about it, about how he works too hard, demands too much of himself. Is desperate and scared and trying so hard to be the best because then he'll stop feeling so weak. The things he got handed to him are useless. A fancy car, a cool house and nice clothes. He'll brag about them, but they do nothing for him. Everything that matters, he got for himself through hard work and talent. He even refuses to get the steroids Lydia tries to coerce him into, because he wants to win the game on his own merit. If I were him, I'd hate Scott too, for getting everything handed to him on a lycanthropic platter. Working and working and tearing myself apart to be the best and watching it all go down the drain because someone who never did anything to deserve it got given a gift at random and proceeded to abuse it liberally to get everything he wanted and take it all away from Jackson. Right down to his fucking girlfriend. And the whole time, Scott complains about how much he's suffering and refuses to share the gift with anyone else. Hell, I'd even hate Stiles a bit. I mean, I haven't mentioned him in any of this, but Stiles also goes against Jackson's entire ethics system. Stiles is painfully intelligent with zero effort, and he isn't afraid to hold it over other people's heads. He didn't earn it, he barely studies. But he still gets to be the smartest person in the room. Meanwhile Jackson grabs the wrong chemical and almost gets someone killed. He's got his own kind of intelligence, but it's implied that he's not booksmart, and that must burn for Jackson.

It's probably why Lydia always acts stupid at the beginning. For his sake, because she knows that it hurts him to see other people just get things. Just have them without working for it. It's not about making Jackson look better, it's about not making him feel worse.

According to the show, Jackson's traumatized by his parent's death because he feels like he has no past. He has no identity. So he makes his own, building skills he chooses and getting titles he's earned. And he hates when other people don't have to do that. When they can just go "I was born like this" or "I'm the sheriff's son" and know who they are and how they belong in the world.

There aren't good excuses for why Jackson does the shitty things he does, or says the shitty things he says. But a lot of the time, there are reasons. I don't have to agree with him, but I can at least understand him.

[mogruith]

ENJOY MAKIN DINNER!!!! also thank u for the tags 🫶🫶🫶 i wanna see shaved ice, seedling, and scissors for coranzan :3c

Ahh thank you!! It took a while but it was worth it! Sorry I'm getting to your ask so late!!

I'm going to answer your ask out of order because your first ask reminded me of something I should've written about when asked the Seedling question by @mystxmomo

🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?

This is a little on the edge, but I will talk about Coranzan's Blooding, which is their "coming of age" ritual. Coranzan and Z'ress ["Zee"] would join a raid to prove themselves for it - nothing fancy like a noble might experience. And for clarity: Coranzan and Z'ress were raised as Lolthites. The short version is just before their Blooding, their parents effectively revealed who they truly were to them: Worshipers of Eilistraee. Secret Moondancers that would lead drow to the surface. And the twins were presented with a choice - come with them to the surface or go through with the Blooding and continue living their lives as Lolthites. Either way, their parents would be leaving Menzoberranzan. The twins refused to join them. They were outraged. Of course they would be good little Lolthites and continue with the raid - this was heretical! By Lolth, they should rat on their parents for bonus points! But they didn't. They parted ways, angrily. And well, I don't want to leave it hanging, but the super short version is the raid went in an unexpected way. Coranzan had an experience - and what he believed was a vision of Eilistraee - that led him to believe it was fated to end this way. That he wasn't supposed to be a follower of Lolth and this was his last chance.

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

So all that to answer this one: Coranzan's mother had given him a charm of Eilistraee before they parted ways. Initially, he slapped it out of her hand, saying he wanted no part of it. Eventually he was compelled to go back and recover it. He shouldn't have kept it - being caught with it would've been the end of him, probably. But he took it with him on the raid. And he still keeps it on him today. I think if he'd lost it, he would be absolutely beside himself. He doesn't wear it, but keeps it tucked into whatever armor or robes he might be wearing. It's one of those things he checks every day: keys, phone, wallet, charm lol

✂️ SCISSORS - what is the "last straw" for them to cut someone out of their life? how easily do they let go of people?

This entirely depends on the esteem Coranzan holds the person in question in. Betraying him, trying to use him, belittling him are roads to ending your relationship with him. He has killed over it. But sometimes it can take far too long for him to see it happening. Authority figures: He sadly will bend over backwards to please them, no matter how shittily they might be treating him. It took decades (maybe even a century) to convince Coranzan to stop trying to please the Priestesses of Eilistraee who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Someone closer to him (his sister/family/companions) - it would also take a LOT for him to discard such a bond. It would have to be a major betrayal. Anyone else who hasn't formed some kind of bond? Easy to let go.

[neerons]

What does the MC and the guys from Masquerade kiss call each other? And how do the pet names like sweetie or baby get translated from the Japanese version?

How do the MK characters call each other in Japanese?

I have to say beforehand that I’m not 100% sure of my translations, so if anyone has more knowledge please feel free to add your own take. I tried my best 🥹

I remember @aqvarius did translations for MK and knows things about this, so you can also visit her blog through the #masquerade kiss tag, or ask her this too if her asks are still open and she’s willing to answer ❤️

How the guys call the MC

When it comes to what the guys call her, I’m not 100% sure at all but I think they all generally call her by her first or last name and add "-san” when it’s not their route, and they call her by her first name when it’s their route (and if she’s not working under another identity of course)

How the MC calls the guys

From memory of what I’ve seen, when it’s not their routes, or at the beginning of their routes when they’re still not close, MC generally calls the 3S’ by their last name and adds the honorific "-san" at the end and calls her Boss in the Japanese pronunciation of that word (“Shido-san”, “Soejima-san”, “Shiba-san”, and “ボス” (bosu = “Boss”). I haven’t read the Boss’ route in Japanese but it wouldn’t be unlikely that she calls him by his first name once she starts learning it (but that’s just an assumption I think would make sense).

In Kazuomi’s route, that’s how she refers to Yuzu and Kei:

In Yuzuru’s route, it seems she calls him “Yuzuru-san”:

While in Kei’s route, she seems to call Kei simply by his first name too with no honorifics:

As for Kazuomi, she calls him “Shido” in general in his route:

But I know that during more intimate moments, she calls Kazuomi by his first name, which is why he always gets turned on more in these moments

In the English version, since using his last name would have put too much distance between them for this audience, they made the MC call him Kazuomi in all circumstances, but to make the translations work, they made it look like she uses a different "tone" when saying his name in intimate moments

How the guys call each other

Since we can see in the English version at times that Yuzuru calls Kei and Kazuomi by their last name, I suppose he does the same in the Japanese version, mostly, while I’ve seen Kei and Kazuomi typically call him “ユズ” (Yuzu in katakana) like we already know. However, I didn’t check this so I’m not sure if Yuzu really only refers to them by their last name at all times. I’m assuming that he calls them by their first name depending on the situation and his emotional state, but that’s just an assumption

When it comes to how they call the Boss, I don’t know about Yuzu or Kei but Kazu refers to the Boss as MC’s “kainushi”/owner-caretaker (the meaning doesn’t change much from the English version):

“Kainushi” actually refers to someone who owns or takes care of an animal, which is a way of teasing her about how obedient she is to him, and how he literally gives her orders

Pet names?

About the pet names, I don’t know about them a lot to be honest so I can’t help out much about this, I apologize, but I know Kazuomi once referred to MC this way: “俺の愛しい恋人” (ore no itoshii koibito/my dear lover, if I’m not wrong):

I’m not sure what the equivalents to ��darling”, “honey” or “baby” would be in Japanese for them. Instead of choosing the literal pronunciations of the English pet names which could sound a bit funny, I assume they would choose more elegant words, but I don’t know what story to revisit to confirm this

Thank you for the ask and have a lovely day ❤️

[tikay21]

🐺How to use hashtags on tumblr to organize a story!

It was like paddling in an open sea .... Ok, it really took me 4 years to figure out the thing with the internal hashtags on Tumblr and realize that there is an advantageous sense in them initially only working within your own blog. If you don’t really need them, the benefit isn’t immediately obvious.

Plus, the display of the most commonly used hashtags leads you to assume they are more universally intended. The advantage of internal blog hashtags didn’t click for me - until the moment I actually needed them to bring order to my blog chaos and understood that you can easily sort everything with them, especially when it comes to storytelling.

I originally thought: “I'll make sideblogs for the stories, so I can have everything neatly gathered, with matching colors and background images." However, the hashtags from the main blog don’t work in the sideblogs anymore unless I link them and unless I’ve missed something again. Now I’m wondering if I even need the sideblogs anymore. Probably not. So, new plan:

I’ll post everything on my main blog

tag it with both specific and general tags

using intern unique tags for different supposes

and that’s pretty much it. At the top of a pinned post, I’ll provide an overview of what you can find under which hashtag, and they’ll automatically function as a sorter for an entire internal storyline. Done.

Btw, thanks for the right hints, which made me take a closer look, test things out, and understand how it works by answering my question on it here ...

@figure-it-out-later and @tenyrasims - which made me think about it and especially @satureja13 for the needed key to my head to unlock this blind point🥰. from @satureja13 : ... I just make sure to tag every post properly so I can add new stuff to my pinned post. You can also keep your pinned post clean by making sub posts, like I do for my chapters, for example. ... I can find every event, character, location… within seconds. That’s what I really love about tumblr.

So, what can I do now to satisfy my need for beeing over organization🙈? Technically, I could delete the sideblogs, but I can also use them in parallel, reblogging the respective content there, and thus have everything in a separate place, visually appealing with the story-appropriate colors - for my own peace of mind or for anyone who prefers to read there. But I’ll only reblog, not post the original, so following the sideblogs isn’t really necessary - though of course, you can if you prefer the color-coordinated layout there. If I ever decide it’s all too much, I can delete the sideblogs without losing my original content, as long as I only reblog from the mainblog to the sideblogs.

Is anyone still following? Probably not,😂 but I think this works for me.

Long story short: I’m going to rearrange things once more and adjust the pinned post accordingly... and bring any duplicate content back to the main blog. My old stuff from before the long break will stay here, and maybe I’ll update broken links if I ever get bored - not that I know the meaning of the word, lol. Otherwise, it’ll just stay as it is, since there’s barely anything left in my EA gallery, except for the stuff that can’t be deleted.

Ok, here we go ...