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sourxcherri · 2 months

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Wanna bet?

synopsis: Gojo isn't feeling up to going on a date with you and Geto, but he thinks of another way to have fun with you.

feat.: Gojo Satoru x afab!fem!reader x Geto Suguru [established relationship] (Gojo's only in the start and end.)

warnings: 18+ content/smut; sex toys [reader wears a vibe in public]; edging; orgasm denial/delay; public sex [reader is fucked in a public bathroom.]; unprotected sex; p in v sex; creampie; praising [reader receiving]; pet names [princess, baby, good girl, pretty girl]; picture taking [Geto takes a picture without asking]

w.c: 5k

a/n: This took me entirely too long to write but hey its finally done. There is a planned part 2 but it's going to be a bit before that one gets posted. banner by @/benkeibear

Minors and Ageless blogs will be blocked.

"Come on 'Toru, are you sure you don't want to come with us?" You ask with a pout as you get ready in the mirror.

"I'm sure. I woke up with a headache, plus you two haven't got to do anything without me in a while. You and Suguru go enjoy yourselves!" Gojo says as he leans against the doorway watching you get ready. A new cafe had opened up that you had been wanting to try, so you were going to go try it today with Geto after doing some light shopping.

"We can go some other day if you're not feeling up to it? You know I like spending time with both of you, it doesn't have to be one-on-one."

"It's fine, you two can go try it and let me know what to order next time we all go."

"Fine, if you're sure." You say, drawing on your eyeliner. Gojo is quiet for a moment before letting out a hum.

"Actually on second thought, since you want me there so bad, I have an idea." He says before walking back into the bedroom and returning shortly with something in his hand. "Since you want to have fun with me so badly today too, how about a bet?" He asks with a cheeky smile on his face.

"A bet?"

"Yep! Since I won't be there physically with you, how about you take this with you as a reminder of me?" He says as he moves what was in his palm to hold between his thumb and index finger. You look back in the mirror to see him holding a pink vibrator. You recognize it as one he had gotten you for Valentine's day last year. It was a remote control bullet one that could be controlled from a phone app.

"You're kidding, right? And what does me wearing a vibrator in public have to do with a bet?" You ask incredulously.

"The bet is, if you can wear this the whole time you and Suguru are out, without you removing it, and without you coming, then I'll be your slave for a whole week! Whatever you want; I'll be at your beck and call!" He smiles at you cheerfully while he spins the bullet around in between his fingers.

"And what do you get if I take it out or come?"

"If you take it out or come, then you're my slave for week. Equal punishment." He shrugs before smirking at you. "So what do you say? I'll obviously have my phone on me at all times so if you ever need me to stop all you have to do is text me and I'll stop, but that will mean you forfeit the bet."

Your eyes flick back and forth from Satoru to the toy and then back again, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth as you thought about it. You weren't terribly keen on the idea of getting caught in public, but you couldn't deny the thrill of it either. Plus the opportunity to have Gojo completely at your control for an entire week was too good to pass up. You let out a sigh and hold our your hand to him to put the toy in.

"Okay, deal." You couldn't believe you were going to go along with this, but you did trust him to stop if it did become too much, so it couldn't be that bad right?

"Excellent!" He says. You wait for him to put the vibrator in your hand. He just raises an eyebrow at you and makes a spinning motion with his hand, silently asking you to turn around. Of course he would want to put it in himself.

You resign yourself to your fate and turn around so your back is to him as you bend over the sink. You feel him walk up behind you and playfully grind himself into your ass before flipping up the skirt you had put on earlier. He pulls your underwear to the side and teasingly slides the toy down your folds, using it to circle your clit before sliding it back up. You bite back a small moan.

"'Toru, hurry up, Suguru is waiting."

"As you command princess," He chuckles before pushing it past your entrance, just out of reach of your sweet spot. Gojo lets your panties snap back into place before giving your ass a playful swat. He bends over and gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head then leans down to whisper in your ear.

"There, all set. Just remember, this is the one that gives feedback to the app, so I'll know if you come." He straightens back up before yawning and stretching. "I'm going to go lie down, see you when you get home."

As Gojo returns to bed, you grab your purse and head out to the living room where Geto is waiting for you, dressed in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of jeans. When he sees you he gives a small smile as he stands up from the couch.

"Ready?" You nod and let him lead you out the door.

You both decide to take the train, the station wasn't that far away of a walk and you didn't have Gojo to complain about the fact you have a perfectly good functioning car to take, one that he rarely drove himself, the passenger princess he was.

The ten minute walk to the station passes by smoothly, you managed to walk normally despite the toy inside you. You couldn't help but get a little suspicious though, as Gojo had yet to turn the toy on.

It wasn't until you both had boarded the train that Gojo decided to start the toy. It was fairly crowded, so you and Geto had to stand. As the train went to take off, Gojo turned the vibrator on, setting it to a slow pulsing setting. You let out a squeak and rock forward into Geto, the sensation catching you off guard for a moment. He's quick to wrap his arm around you to try and steady you.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" He asks, looking down at you. You give him your best reassuring smile.

"I'm fine, just lost my balance for a moment." He accepted your answer easily before picking back up your previous conversation.

Which made you realize, you and Gojo hadn't discussed the possibility of Geto finding out about the bet. If he found out would you lose? The rules were you couldn't take the vibrator out and you couldn't come. It wouldn't really matter if Geto found out so long as you didn't go against the rule right? He might give you and Gojo a disappointed look for leaving him out, but that would be it surely? Or would he get genuinely upset?

Either way, you were determined to not let him in on the bet, at least not yet. It would be an interesting surprise for him when you both got home. Who knows? Maybe you could have him help you find some fun punishments for Gojo for the upcoming week.

The first store you stop in doesn't go as smoothly as you hoped. It was a clothing store, and you needed to pick yourself up some new work clothes. So far Gojo had been keeping the speed relatively slow, instead opting to just change the pattern in which it vibrated, from a pulsing one, to a constant one, to a deeper, rumbly one, then back. You could handle that with relative stealth, Geto seemed none the wiser to what you and Gojo were doing.

You had already decided to skip trying on any pants today, feeling how damp your panties were already. Shirts should be fine though, and if it ever got to be too much you could use trying one on in the dressing room as an excuse to get away long enough to adjust.

As you were about to pull a shirt you liked off the rack to show Geto, you felt the toy almost double in speed and return to a constant buzz, causing you to pause as your hand had touched the shirt. You felt your body involuntarily shiver at the change in setting. Unfortunately, Suguru seemed to notice.

"Is something wrong?" He asks, confused. You quickly let go of the shirt like it burned you.

"Yeah, just, wasn't the texture I thought it would be." You say as evenly as possible. You walk around the clothing rack to put some distance between the two of you, hoping he couldn't see the blush that was slowly starting to rise in your cheeks. As if to sabotage you, you felt the toy pick up in speed again. You needed to excuse yourself from Geto's sight and fast or else he was going to catch on.

You snatch another shirt off the rack you were vaguely thinking about before turning back to your boyfriend and announcing you were going to go try it on. You moved as quickly as you could to the changing rooms, leaving him far behind you.

Once you located an empty one, you went inside and almost slammed the door in your haste to get it closed. You sit on the bench provided and lean back, letting your head gently hit the wall as you rode out the wave of pleasure the toy was giving you.

You take deep breaths, trying to focus on your breathing as opposed to how good the toy was making your pussy feel. You spread your legs and pull up your skirt before looking down at yourself. Just as you expected, your panties were already soaked through from your arousal. You felt the toy change patterns again, this time back to the pulsing one. Good, even at a higher speed you could handle this one easier.

Deciding you couldn't hide for much longer before drawing suspicion, you steel yourself and open the door to find Geto waiting for you. He looks up from his phone to see you and pouts when he notices you weren't wearing the new top.

"Not going to give me a little show?" He teases.

"No, didn't like how it looked on me." You shrug as you put it on one of the return racks in the dressing area. You grab his hand and go to lead him out of the store.

"Already done?" You turn back and smile at him.

"Yeah, I'm not seeing much I like, plus we still have to stop by that bakery for Satoru." Even though the last thing you wanted to do right now was treat Gojo to anything. You could picture his smug face as he lazed in bed staring at his phone, thinking of the best way to push your buttons. As if on queue, the jerk changes the speed again to another setting higher.

You try to make it through the bakery as quickly as possible, both you and Geto picking out something you think Gojo would like and waiting to check out. He had yet to turn the speed down from earlier, and was cycling through the patterns faster than before.

You weren't sure at this point if he was trying to make you come or if he just wanted to torture you. Just as you could feel yourself starting to tip closer to your orgasm, he changed the settings, causing you to lose any progress you had before switching it back again with a vengeance. One particular cycle hit you hard, maybe because your body was almost to the point of begging for release, that you had to cover your moan up as a sneeze, burying your face in the crook of your elbow to hide your face while you got your bearings.

You kept silently praying that Geto couldn't hear the buzzing of the toy inside of you, but if he did he acted like he didn't notice.

"Are you sure you're alright? Your face is starting to get red and now you're sneezing. You're not getting sick are you?" Geto pushes your hair away from your forehead, trying to feel for a fever as he looks down at your face.

"I-I'm fine, really! Just allergies is all." You lie, hoping you sound more convincing than you feel. He looks at you skeptically before letting out a sigh and removing his hand from your face. "Fine, but we're stopping at the store on the way home and picking up some medicine for both of you."

By the time you make it to the cafe, you're surprised you're even managing to function. You're so wet that every step you take causes the friction from walking to slide just right on your clit. Gojo hasn't let up on his ministrations either, making it impossible to ignore the toy inside you with how often he was playing with the toy. At this rate you didn't think you could make it one more stop after this. You had already been so tempted to tell Geto that you were already tired and ready to go home, but seeing as how you had been talking all week about how badly you wanted to come, you knew that would clue him in that something was wrong which would lead to more questions and him possibly figuring out what was really going on.

By the time you got to the register to order, your mind was so hazy you could barely be bothered to read the menu, and just ordered the first thing you saw that your over stimulated brain could comprehend.

"I thought you didn't typically like those types of drinks?" Geto questions as you both sit down at a table closer to the back of the cafe with your coffees in hand.

"I thought I'd try something different. Since the place is new, maybe they'd make it b-better." You take a sip of the drink as if to prove your point but find that you did, in fact, not like the drink you had picked out. Too late to change it now you thought as you went to take another sip, trying to convince Geto you had totally made this drink decision with your sound mind, and not your horny one.

Gojo had other plans though as you feel him crank the vibrator setting higher, a little whine slipping from your lips as you brought the cup up to your lips. You quickly set the cup down and cover your mouth to stifle any more noises he might wring out of you.

Geto immediately narrows his eyes and you could tell he was catching on that something was amiss with you. He watches you closely for a moment before going to open his mouth to say something.

"I-I need to use the restroom." You say shakily as you abruptly push your chair back and head towards the bathroom at the back of the cafe. Damn Gojo, for picking the worst timing to turn the toy to a higher setting. You thought you heard Geto calling after you, but you were so focused on trying not come in public that you couldn't be sure.

You make it to the bathroom and let out a sigh of relief when you notice it's a one toilet kind and not a restroom full of stalls. Less risk of someone walking in and hearing you.

Or so you thought. As you opened the door to go inside, a gentle hand pushed you in, and you felt the presence of someone behind you as you heard the door close and the *click* of the lock. You turn, ready to tell whoever off only to see Geto had apparently been close behind you as you made your escape.

Geto gives you a stern, worried look, but before he can ask you what was really going on, Gojo decided to change the setting of the toy again, changing it from a constant whirring to the deep rumbly setting, causing you to let out a small moan. You slapped your hand over your mouth but the damage was done, Geto's worried expression turning into one of recognition.

He backs you up against the sink, using a knee to spread your legs open for him as he slides his right hand up the inside of your trembling thighs under your skirt and cups your throbbing cunt in his large hand. You couldn't hold back your whine, the feel of his hand on you and the toy inside of you almost pushing you over the edge. Geto quirks a brow.

"You're soaked. Did the coffee taste so good it got you this wet?" He teases before leaning forward and pushing his fingers passed your underwear into your pussy, poking at the toy inside you before murmuring hotly in your ear, "Or maybe it was this?" He goes to push the toy into your sweet spot, but you grab his arm.

"I, I can explain. P-please let me explain, I c-can't come yet." You rush out, squeezing his wrist tightly. Geto withdraws his hand from your cunt, opting instead to gently hold your waist.

"I'm listening."

You breath a sigh as you feel the vibrator inside you slow to a lower setting. Finally a break, you might just win this yet.

"Satoru and I made a be-" before you can finish, the toy spikes to what you assume might be the highest setting, causing you to whimper and drop your head onto Geto's chest while your hands grip the counter edge. You try to control your breathing and focus on literally anything that might distract you enough to keep your orgasm at bay. Geto being so close and smelling so good did not help.

As quickly as it started, the toy slows inside you. It was so going to be over for Gojo once you won this bet. Oh right, you were telling Geto about the bet.

"Go on," Geto says soothingly, rubbing what would normally be comforting circles into your hips but now it only served to further overstimulate you in your edged state.

"Right. Satoru made me a bet that if I-I can wear the vibrator while we're out and not come, then he'll do w-whatever I say for a week." You manage to pant out, bracing yourself for the inevitable speed spike you knew Gojo was going to throw at you any moment now.

"Hmm, that wasn't very nice of you two to leave me out." He mutters, still rubbing circles into your skin before seeming to lose himself in thought for a moment.

You had a sneaky suspicion that Gojo would of clued Geto in to sabotage you, but none of Geto's earlier actions suggested he knew about the deal. Maybe Gojo hadn't clued him in after all. A surprise really given how much they both love to tease you.

Geto lets out a small hum and you notice a dangerous glint in his eye when you look up at him. Taking advantage of your hazy state, Geto begins to slides your panties down your legs, letting out a low groan as he watches a string of your essence break away from your pussy. "God, you're so fucking wet."

"W-wait, Suguru what are you doing?" He picks you up and sets you on the counter next to the sink before he finishes pulling your panties off to let them dangle around one of your ankles.

"You and Satoru are getting to have your fun, so I'm going to have some myself." He pushes his fingers inside you again. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and bite to suppress your moan as his thick fingers pull the vibrator slowly out of you. He holds the pink bullet in his hand and observes its buzzing. Gojo must have changed the setting again as now its pulsing instead of the one continuous buzz you had previously felt.

You hear as the speed changes, the whirring becoming louder and echoing off of the walls in the small bathroom. Geto brings it closer to his face and licks your wetness off it, letting out a small moan at your taste. Your eyes roll back and your head falls back into the mirror with a dull thud at the obscene gesture. He chuckles.

"Poor thing, Satoru 's been so mean to you all day." He coos as he pockets the vibrator and goes to unbutton his jeans and pull his cock out.

You didn't quite know what to do with realization that he was going to fuck you here and now in the bathroom. The competitive part of you didn't want to lose the bet, and knew if you told him to stop he would, but the part of you that had been edged all day was very excited at the idea of having his thick cock inside you. In the end all you could do was whine out, "Suguru, please."

"Shhh, I know. Trust me baby, as soon as I'm done here we'll go home and you can end your bet, yeah?" He peppered your forehead with kisses as he ran his fingers up your dripping pussy, carefully avoiding your clit, before using the wetness he collected as lube to stroke his cock to fullness.

Once he's fully hard he lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in. He slides right in from how wet you are. You bit your lip as he bottoms out to try and hide your moan but to no avail, he just felt too good inside you. Screw it, if you came from this you could deal with the consequences of losing your bet.

Geto grabs the backs of your thighs, pushing them up and almost folding you in half before he starts thrusting in.

All you could do was let your head fall back as you moan. His cock felt heavenly stretching you out compared to the small vibrator you'd had inside you all morning. His thrusts start out slow, giving you time to adjust to his girth. Not that you needed it with how turned on you were from the vibrator. It doesn't take him long though to start a fast and brutal pace, leaving your eyes rolling back while moans and whines fall from your mouth.

You were close, so close, that hot coil that'd been tightening in your belly all day just needing that one final push before it would snap. But why hadn't you hit it yet? You're lust riddled brain trying to sort through the fog to find that last spark needed to trigger your release. It's then when you realize that at the angle Geto was thrusting, he was purposely missing grinding against your clit, and just barely grazing that wonderful, spongy spot deep in you. How mean of him, couldn't he tell how badly you needed to come?

You snake your hand down between the both of your bodies. If he wasn't going to be of any help then you'd do it yourself! Except right as your fingers find your clit, he stops you by grabbing your wrist and pinning it to the mirror above your head. You whine, tears starting to well up at the corners of your eyes from how frustrated you were.

"Sugu pl-please! I'm so close, wan' come," you plead, looking up at him through the tears clinging to your lashes. His lidded eyes were locked on himself sliding in and out of you, fixated on the ring of creamy white that you were leaving at the base of his cock with each thrust. He smirks down at you and lowers himself closer to your face.

"Just a, fuck, just a little longer baby. I'm almost done, be a good girl for me, yeah? This pretty pussy 's takin' me so, so well." He ends his praise with a groan before covering your mouth with his own and giving you a languid kiss, contrasting the rapid snap of his hips into your own.

He kept his lips on yours, muffling your whimpers, causing the lewd sound of his body slamming into yours to echo through the small bathroom without any interruption, any fear of being heard by a someone else completely forgotten in the moment.

It didn't take long for his thrusts to become erratic and sloppy. You could feel his cock throb inside you before he shuddered against you, moaning into your mouth as he filled you with his white hot release. You moan with him, arms coming up to wrap around the back of his neck as you kiss him while he finishes fucking himself through his orgasm. He drops his head on your shoulder for a moment, allowing the both of you to catch your breath before he straightens up.

"Hold your thighs for me pretty girl." He commands as he fishes in his back pocket for something. You do as your told, your hands coming up to hold the back of your thighs the same way his own had earlier, keeping your ruined pussy on display for him. He pulls his phone out and you can see his thumb swipe a few times before angling it down at you. Geto pulls out of you slowly, both of you groaning at the loss of the other's warmth. "Eyes on me, baby."

You feel his release slowly start to drip out of you, mixing with your own juices that had dripped down from your entrance and onto the bathroom counter while he fucked you. You watch as his eyes roll back at the sight as he lets out a low moan at the sight. You also hear the sound of his phone's camera shutter several times before he shoves it back into his pocket.

He reaches back into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out the pink vibrator, it still whirring lowly. "Stay still and relax for me. You're being so good for me pretty girl." He murmurs as he presses the toy against your fucked out cunt, causing you to shudder at the feeling. It slides in with a wet squelch, causing some of his come to slide out as it enters you, dripping down your ass to collect with the rest.

You're not entirely sure that you're thankful that its set on a lower setting or not, desperately wanting to come. Geto doesn't slide it in deep enough for it to rub up against your sweet spot, instead leaving it closer to your soaked entrance. He moves your legs around to slide your panties back up your thighs, causing the toy to jolt inside you slightly, making you whimper.

Realizing how close you must of been, he grabs your chin in one of his warm hands and forces you to look at his face. "Don't you dare come. Focus on me baby, deep breaths. You're almost done, don't ruin it now." You look up and focus on his face, still flush from his own orgasm, sweat dripping down his temples and part of his bangs stuck to the side of his face. You manage to slow your breathing down enough to bring yourself back from the edge. He gives you a quick kiss on your forehead as he stuffs his cock back into his jeans and zips them up. "Let's clean up here and head back home so you can have your victory lap, yeah?"

You nod meekly as he helps you down from the counter. He quickly wipes the it down before leading you out of the bathroom, not even bothering to check if there was anyone watching.

Gojo sits on the couch wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweats. He's staring at his phone with an intrigued expression. The app on his phone he's been using to control the toy inside you showing him a lack of feedback from the toy. It looks like its been lodged in one relatively restricted place for a good moment, meaning there was no way it was still inside of you.

Had you given up and taken it out to shove it your purse? He could tell you hadn't come from it yet; were you too embarrassed to have an orgasm in public? Or did you remove it temporarily to see if you give yourself an orgasm and avoid him finding out about it?

He smirks to himself. Either way, it looks like he won. You had taken the toy out before making it home, effectively forfeiting the bet. As he starts to think of all the ways he's going to punish you for losing the bet, his phone dings with a notification from Geto. Figuring it was an "on our way back" text, he opens it before realizing its an attachment.

Gojo's smirk is wiped off his face when he's greeted with a picture of you looking up at the camera. Teary eyes had caused your mascara to run down your face as you were leaned back against a bathroom mirror with your hands holding your thighs up and apart, putting your pussy dripping with both yours and Geto's combined spend on full display, his come dripping down your ass to pool on the counter while your underwear dangled around one ankle.

His sweats become tight as his cock that had been at half mast before was now fully awake and throbbing. As he takes in the filthy sight in, he receives another text from Geto.

[Found out about your little bet. Hope you're ready to clean up the mess you made when we get home.🖤]

Realizing that Geto must of taken the toy out of you to fuck you, Gojo decides that technically wasn't against the bet. He was hoping if Geto found out that he would of sabotaged you, but instead it looks like he decided to have some fun of his own, and helped you win in the process.

Granted you still hadn't made it home, so he could be a jerk and try and trigger your release. But he decided against it; he knew when he lost, and now that Geto was involved he thought losing the bet was going to be just as interesting as winning it would of been.

He decides to give you a break and turns the vibrator off. Gojo leans back against the couch and begins lazily palming himself through his pants, eagerly waiting for you and Geto to make it home.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #satosugu x reader #he's barely participating but #gojo smut #gojo x reader #satosugu x reader smut #cherri writes

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inner-viper · 9 months

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Why is my FS attracted to me? (Short Ver)

Hello, this is Inner Viper and I decided to focus on channeled messages. My tarot divination skills have been improving. It’s been a year since I have been practicing tarot, it’s been my whole life since I have been practicing my intuition, like everyone else lol. I took a break from my Patreon and this blog because I have a full-time job but I am going back to school so hopefully I will have more time for consistent uploads. I do want to go on lives here, but I might create a youtube channel to upload pac readings. If I do go down that route then I’ll probably do live readings on there. I’ll let you guys know if I do decide that!

If you want a paid reading please check out my list here.

Remember to choose the image that is calling out to you. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t because this is a general pac reading. Some messages are not meant for you, while other messages aren’t meant for you. Also, this is meant to give you insight, not concrete evidence.

I hope you enjoy the reading for today!

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Pile 1

I am getting the energy of them being attracted to your work ethic. Perhaps you are a very committed individual, you may have a lot of projects underway. You know how to build and develop things to flourish. You may be extremely creative and they notice these things about you, I also am sensing that they love the smaller things about you too. Perhaps you do a certain face when you get something you want or dislike. It’s a unique facial expression, they like how expressive you are. They love the way you daydream about the smaller things in life too. They want to know what is going on inside your head, they want a small peak into your world. The way you perceive things and the way you speak is intellectually stimulating towards them too. They could spend hours just speaking to you about multiple topics. They also think you are fine asf.

Pile 2

Are you emo? They like your dark aesthetic, like the gloomy look you have going on. Honestly, it’s like all you have in your wardrobe is all black and they love that. They love the way you dress and the way you smile. They think you are an enigma, you have a contrast to yourself. If you aren’t having a dark aesthetic then it could be vice versa too. Let’s say you have a cute theme going on but your personality is super serious, yet you like these small cute things. I am honestly picking up in this pile that a majority of you really like Kuromi or any Hello Kitty stuff. Which is cute! They love the contrast in you and they are always amazed at how you are so different than most people. I am getting some non-conformist energy too. The love you for who you are.

Pile 3

They love how you are a bad bitch. I feel like mainly women choose this pile but if you aren’t then I feel like you just have a badass energy to you. They love how you look tough and mean like you give off mean-girl vibes but you aren’t one. They find you to be so sexy and alluring because of the way you present yourself too. Perhaps you find yourself meeting people and them saying “Oh, I thought you were mean at first” because that’s the type of energy I am getting. They love the way you move when you dance or are freely doing your own thing. They love it when you are so expressive because they themselves feel free with you. One of the other things they love about you is your jokes, they find you to be so funny.

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Thank you for reading! If you want a paid reading please check out my list here.

#pac #tarot #hellenic pagan #pagan witch #pick a card #witchcraft #paganism #pick a pile #tarot cards #tarot pick a card #fs pac #pac tarot #pac future spouse #pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a picture #tarot reading #tarot community #daily tarot

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kaitobromota · 3 months

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[Blows the dust off this blog] Long time no see...

Back in the Danganronpa pits... have some silly doodles for an...AU? or like, slight canon divergence/missing scene? I got to chapter 5 in my THH replay and was thinking about the part where these four are alone in the gym dismantling Monokuma all night.

I know realistically it's supposed to be because they were paranoid and extra careful about taking it slow so nothing went wrong... but like... their alibi is from 10pm to 7am? In my heart of hearts it actually took the whole night because they kept getting distracted and chit-chatting and got into a bunch of shenanigans once the actual dismantling part was done. Like Byakuya says they went to the bathroom in pairs?? Not to mention you'd totally expect him to make a comment about how insufferable it was being stuck together for like nine hours. And Hina says they played rock paper scissors to decide who brought back breakfast???

You can't tell me they didn't bond at least a little bit. A friend pointed out it'd have the vibes of a 4am discord call and that's exactly it. Emotional confessions about personal fears and insecurities to dumb physiological debates that become inside jokes forever. Etc.

#danganronpa #trigger happy havoc #yasuhiro hagakure #toko fukawa #aoi asahina #byakuya togami #makoto naegi #dr1 #thh #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #sry these r kinda wonky i didn't want them to take FOREVER in getting details right..#some of these come off as a little shippy and if you wanna interpret it at that idm #but it's really supposed to just be them being dumb friends.. they really do seem like a team up until mukuro's body shows up.#like makoto feels like a 5th wheel #u know during the trial one of them makes a reference to some stupid thing they talked about that night and they all laugh at it #and kyoko and makoto look at each other like... did we miss something???#post-canon they have a group chat w/o those two in it (tho there's obviously one for ALL of them)#uuuehuueuue let them b friends...#i know they only all BARELY tolerate each other in canon at this point #but let me DREAM #thinking about them technically being 'done' with the monokuma robot and realizing they should probably go back to their rooms #but then they check and still cant find makoto and kyoko #standing in the empty dorm hall all lingering by their doors...#until someone is like 'since our circumstances are extremely unclear right now staking it out in the gym is the safest option'#translation: we made something and i don't know what i'd do if something happened to you. please don't leave my side.#clawing at the walls. CODEPENDENT SURVIVORS!!!!!!!#okay i need to stop rambling on my OWN POST LOL

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 8 months

Text

Creep - Dark!Joel/Creepy Neighbour!Joel x Reader Dark fic.

Taking part in the Haunted Hoedown - I did a randomised one so here we goooo:

Prompts: Urban Legend(s), “I’m so close, can you feel it?”, fate worse than death, mirror sex, the creepy neighbour is too hot to be insane, right? Thank you @psychedelic-ink and @inklore for setting this up! [Extra thanks to @beefrobeefcal and @patti7dc for beta reading this to let me know if it hit right!] [Read on Ao3]

Part 2 of 3 here:

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific warnings: This is a dark fic, it’s twisted af, Joel is a creep, Joel is mean and fucking nasty in this, drug use, dubcon(reader is high AF), coercion, mouth fucking, unprotected PiV, Creampie, breeding kink, degredation(lots of Joel calling Reader a slut/whore etc.), (heavy)stalker vibes, let me know if I missed anything! Enjoy you beautiful THOTs.

Creep.

You’d heard the stories, of the creepy neighbour down the hall, the one Jenny said to avoid like the plague. But she also thought that pot smoking was the work of the devil, and that sex before marriage was a fate worse than death. But you didn’t listen too hard, especially when you realised just how hot Mr Miller was. You’d bumped into him a few times when collecting your mail, or when you’d snuck up onto the roof to smoke.

Tonight is one of the latter. The fire escape rattles as you hear the tell-tale groan of Mr Miller, it’s weird how a pained groan could make your stomach flutter as heat rises on your cheekbones. You take a long drag, the tickling burn of pot threatening to make you cough but you stay quiet, waiting for him to make it up to the roof.

“Damned knee,” He grumbles to himself, cresting over the roof of the building like a bed-headed angel, fuck the pot is already affecting you as you giggle quietly at your own train of thought. The sound makes Joel perk up, dark eyes locking onto yours as he realises he’s not alone, “Hey there gorgeous.” He says with his syrupy Texan drawl dripping from every word.

“Evening Mr Miller.” You say as you take another hit, flicking the ash over the side of the building. Your legs dangle over the edge, feet bare in the oppressive New York summer air.

“Please, sweetheart call me Joel.” He says with an exasperated sigh, as he trudges over to you, his equally bare feet slapping softly on the flat rooftop.

“Mind if I join you?” He asks, sitting just far enough away from you to give you some space.

“Never,” You say as you offer him your blunt, which he willingly accepts, “Always a riveting conversation with you Mr-, I mean Joel.” You giggle to yourself, the high already making you feel light and airy as you can’t help the stream of giggles that erupt from your lips as Joel eyes you with a look you can’t quite perceive.

“You been up here long sweetheart?” He asks and you swear he inches closer to you, but you either don’t care, or the weed is just making you horny and hopeful. Maybe it’s all of the above.

“Not long, just been a long week.” You say airily as you watch the older man purse his lips around the tip of the joint, you feel the ache between your legs build as you watch the tendrils of smoke escape from his mouth as he exhales.

“It’s Tuesday sweetheart.” He chuckles, handing you back the joint and for a second your fingers brush against one another and you find yourself chasing his touch. His eyes sparkle in the darkness as he notices your parted lips, knees clamped together as you try and relieve some of the ache in your soaked cunt.

“Don’t remind me.” You grumble as you lie back on the rooftop, a heavy sigh leaving you as you try not to think about how hot Joel is, how his grey sweatpants leave nothing to the imagination. You also try very hard not to get caught staring as you realise his dark eyes are glued to you.

“You ok there babygirl?” The new nickname makes your cunt throb and you know your eyes are wide and glassy as you try to make up an excuse.

“Sorry just-,” You start but Joel lies down next to you stretching his arms above his head, the hem of his t-shirt pulling up far enough that you get a glimpse of the stretch of tan skin, dappled with curls leading down to the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Just what babygirl? You checking out this old dog?” He grumbles but you can hear the humour in his tone.

“Maybe,” You say with yet another string of giggles as you, “What of it?”

“Just surprised such a beautiful girl like you would be interested in someone like me.” He says with a shrug as a chuckle escapes his lips.

“Whaddaya mean? Like you?” You ask, already noting how slurred your speech has become.

“Creepy old neighbour, sniffin’ up all the girls skirts, and so on.” He says with a sigh, as if it actually pained him to say the words.

“Don’t think you’re creepy, pretty hot for an old man.” You say with a giggle, trying to lighten the mood, and it seems to work as he barks out a short laugh.

“Don’t tease babygirl, not nice to kick a man when he’s down.” He grumbles but you can hear the levity in his tone.

“Not teasing, not unless you want me to.” You say as you roll onto your side, looking at him as he mirrors your actions, rolling on his side, you’re almost nose to nose now, the tension between you is palpable as you wet your lips in anticipation.

“You’re high babygirl, don’t go makin’ decisions you’ll regret in the mornin’.” He grumbles but you can hear the strain in his voice. You throw caution to the wind and palm the growing bulge straining against his sweatpants. The moan that escapes him tells you all you need to know as you press your lips softly against his. They’re chapped, warm, plush.

“Take me to bed Joel.” You say softly as you pull back, his eyes are glassy, pupils saucers as he bites down on his lip as he considers it.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He growls and brushes his lips against yours once more before pulling away to roll onto his feet, offering his hand out to you, muscles rippling as he hoists you up.

He helps you down the fire escape, steadying you on the gantries as you try your hardest not to fall helplessly to your demise. Once you’re back at your floor you’re crawling through the window to the hall, stumbling against the wall as your legs wobble.

“Easy there,” Joel coos as he grips your elbow, steading you as he pulls you close, “Your place or mine?” He says softly as he rubs his thumbs back and forth against your biceps.

“Yours, mine’s a dump, don’t want to scare you off.” You admit with a giggle and he rolls his eyes at you as he steers you to his apartment, you note that the door is unlocked as he pushes you into the dimly lit living room.

Immediately his mouth is on yours, a large hand grips your hip, pinning you to him, the other fisted in your hair as he pushes you further into his apartment. Your hands claw at one another’s bodies, stripping you both bare to the humid air as you crash into the unmade bed. All you can smell is Joel, the musk on his bedsheets, the waft of his detergent. It’s all consuming.

“Look at you.” He says darkly as he stands at the end of the bed, bare for you, one hand rubbing the patchy stubble on his chin as the other pumps his length slowly. And length is the right word for it, he’s so big you shudder.

“Mr Miller please.” You whine as you clench around nothing.

“Such a needy brat, c’mere.” He beckons and you scamper up onto your knees to look at him. He smirks and pushes down on your shoulder with one hand, the other still secure on his cock. You’re forced to sit back on your ankles as he pulls your head towards his angry, red tip, beading with precome already.

“Please Mr Miller, fuck me.” You whine as you eye his dick hungrily. You expect him to become bashful, disheartened, but there’s a darkness that settles over his eyes, his posture shifts.

“Suck.” He says with a grunt as he fists his hand in your hair, tugging painfully but you groan at the sensation as your lips are forced against his tip. You whimper as you take the tip into your mouth, suckling gently as your tongue flattens along the underside.

“Fuck, dirty little mouth, knew you were just fucking begging for it, seen the way you look at me babygirl.” He grunts as he rocks his hips slowly, pushing further and further into your mouth. You’ve only got about half of him in your mouth and you’re already struggling. He laughs at you, a cold, condescending sound.

“Shouldn’t pretend to be such a slut if you’re not willing to take my cock babygirl.” He growls as he pulls your head back, opening your throat up for him so he can force the rest of his brutal length into you. His balls rest heavy on your chin as you choke and splutter around him, saliva dripping down your cheeks as you cry at the stretch.

“Fuck, come with me.” He grunts as he unsheathes himself from your mouth, yanking you up with such force your shoulder hurts. He pushes you into his bathroom, bending you over the sink so hard you almost hit the mirror with your head.

“Mr Miller, please, I’m sorry.” You whimper, the anticipation of him fucking you with such a big dick making you shake. But you’re excited at the same time, a sick and twisted desire leaking from you as your arousal coats your thighs.

“Too fuckin’ late sweetheart,” He growls as he notches himself at your entrance, “You wanna act like a slut, gonna treat you like one.”

You cry out as he stretches you out, squirming under him as he bottoms out. You’re so full, raw and split open but it feels so damned good. He fists your hair again and pulls you off the sink to look at him in the mirror. His face is contorted in a sick snarl, you can’t help but whine at how he looks. Dominant and brutal as he uses you.

“Look at you, all fucked out on my thick cock, spearing you like the good little slut you are.” He growls as he fucks into you at pace, not giving you a moment to adjust but it feels too good. You’re drooling, blissed out as a hand comes to your clit, thick, calloused fingers swiping furiously against your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Wanna feel you milk this cock dry little fucking slut.” He growls as he pistons into you as he expertly plays you like a fucking instrument. You feel your release slide down your spine, making your whole body shudder as your clit twitches painfully. You scream as his dick slams into you, your orgasm blurring the edges of fantasy and reality as you fall apart around him.

“Fu-fuuuuck.” Joel groans as he snaps his hips into you a few more times.

“Joel I’m not on birth control.” You babble, the realisation finally hitting you that he isn’t going to pull out.

“Too fuckin’ late you dumb slut, going to fill you up, ‘m so close, can you feel it?” He taunts as you feel him stutter inside you, the sensation of his cum filling you has you whining. It feels so fucking good.

“Fuck.” He grunts as he pulls out of you, immediately walking away, you stagger upright only to have your clothes thrown at you.

“Get dressed and get the fuck out of my apartment you fucking whore.” He snaps and you do as your told, trembling as you dress before scurrying across the hall. You fumble with your keys, as you unlock the door and quickly slip inside, locking the door from within as you slump to a heap against the door.

Your smile is so broad it hurts as you make yourself get up and head to bed, not bothering to shower. You flop down onto the pristinely made bed and laugh to yourself as you prop a pillow under your tailbone, staring up at the ceiling as you hope it takes. You’re ovulating after all.

You smile to yourself as you look up at the collage above you. Blown up photos of Joel from his social media, snaps you took on the sly on nights like tonight on the rooftop, that one time you caught him jacking off on the roof while high on god knows what. Your secret shrine on full display as you pray his seed will take. He thought he was in control, fucking you like he was the one pulling the strings but he was wrong, so very wrong.

“You’re going to be mine Miller, all fucking mine,” You groan as you play with your clit, arching your hips up so no more of his spend leaves you, “All fucking mine.”

Part 2 of 3 here:

Tagging for interest: @beefrobeefcal @cool-iguana @gracieispunk @toxicanonymity

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thelightsandtheroses · 11 days

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when the rain washes you clean, you'll know

Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Secrets can’t stay hidden forever, not with these rainy days anyway … Warnings: 18+ blog, MDNI, secret relationship vibes, sexual tension, passing mentions of sexism and work, flangst (is it a lolabee fic without this?), copious references to rainy seasons and rain, poor communication, elements of rivalry if you squint maybe? Notes: This is my entry for the very lovely @undercoverpena’s April Showers challenge and I would like to thank this event for giving me some Javi P inspo. The fic title is from the brilliant Fleetwood Mac Dreams. Word Count: 2.7k

April brings the rain in Bogotá. You hear that in Cartagena, they get an extra month of dryness, but you’ve never minded water. You’re used to it.

If you were at your apartment now; with rain pitter pattering against glass windows, steaming coffee in your cup and a whole evening away from the office ahead of you, it would be better, you’d enjoy this moment. Instead, you’re desperately searching your handbag in the vain hope that this time around you will find an umbrella.

The embassy has a few umbrellas near the entrances and exits, but these have already been purloined by people leaving work before you. That will teach you to work late, to try and impress Messina again in vain.

This job isn’t what you expected. You wanted to expand your horizons, to do something wild and reckless with your life while you could. It seemed sensible to do this now, before mortgages and future commitments and expectations made it too difficult to be spontaneous.

The post in Colombia, working for Claudia Messina, seemed like a perfect opportunity. When you were told about it, all you could think was how it would certainly be a change from your small-town world and to learn from a woman rising in a male-dominated field was a dream, as well as a chance to stop the bad guys? You said yes almost automatically.

The reality is different to the images you’d let run wild in your mind. You’re not an active agent, you’re mostly doing translations, paperwork and shadowing Messina. The DEA’s office is dark and dank, illuminated by artificial bulbs and full of cigarette smoke. Your apartment is small and loud. Work takes so much of your time that you feel like you never explore this beautiful country or city and now it’s the wet season.

You feel like your adventure hasn’t yet started. It’s been weeks since you moved here and despite your best intentions, this isn’t what you had hoped for.

“Where are you parked?” a voice asks softly behind you. You turn around and see Agent Javier Peña - the source of most of your late nights of work as you try and untangle his messes or work on a better case for Messina to present.

When you had first joined the DEA office, one of the women in the office had taken you under her wing and shared the gossip and news about all of your new colleagues. She told you that Agent Peña has been in Colombia for years though, longer than most of the other active DEA agents.

He has a reputation. It’s all she’s needed to say to you about him.

Your few conversations with Javier have been professional, concise and fine. You’ve tried to notice his smile, the way he slightly changes his voice when he speaks to you, or any women. You refuse to be a notch in an already impressive bedpost, or to be the woman people talk about.

He might have a reputation, but from what you’ve heard, he’s one of the ‘good guys’. It lowers your guard; lets you point vaguely in the direction of your car. Javier smiles.

It’s a good smile. You can understand the rumours with a smile like that.

“We haven’t met, have we? I’m Javi” Five words. It takes only five words for Javier Peña to ruin everything. “I’d definitely remember seeing someone like you. Which uh, office are you in?”

You stand stonily silent, listening to the water running off the umbrella. Javier looks at you, brow furrowed as you extend the silence.

The rain does sound beautiful.

You open your car door and get in. Part of you wants to leave Javier right there, standing dumbfounded in the rain, his clothes getting damper by the second, the rain pouring over his stupid umbrella.

“I work for Messina, Peña, in the same damn office,” you say finally before slamming the door shut and starting your car engine.

“You changed your hair,” he says, hands on his hips defensively as he stands over your desk. “What’s your problem, Agent Peña?” “You changed your hair, that’s why I didn’t recognise you.” “Right.” You’re proud you manage to avoid physically rolling your eyes at his excuses. “It’s true,” he argues, shifting his position slightly. “Uh huh.” You remember that Colleen has boasted about him noticing her damn nail varnish so this feels weak at best so this hardly feels plausible, but as you look up you notice that Javi appears genuinely disturbed at your reaction. You take in his appearance further, now he’s not at the end of another busy day, isn’t fighting away rain in a damp suit and shirt, with curls peeking through his hair. Today he’s wearing a white shirt with a black pattern on it, his hair slightly scruffy, but moustache carefully sculpted. He smells like cologne and cigarettes. Sweet, woody notes trying to mask smoke and drawing you in like a siren’s song. “Look, this has been … delightful, but do excuse me, Agent Peña,” you say coolly, focusing on each syllable of his surname because you at least remember his name, at least you remember meeting him before yesterday. “I need to get back to work.” “Oh, well, please don’t let me keep you,” Javi replies with a sardonic tone, one eyebrow raised and his arms folded. “I shan’t.” You don’t move. “Must be very important work,” he says pleasantly, a slight smirk at your lack of movement. “Well, someone has to actually work around here,” you reply sweetly.

You don’t need to be a special agent to know that everybody has secrets. It’s a fact of life. There will always be things we keep from others, especially at work. Most of them will be mild and harmless, but some of them won’t be. It’s a constant.

There’s a reliability to this idea that perhaps you’re never getting the true person in front of you; just the shiny version that they want to project, the one that masks all the little secrets like they can’t quit smoking, or they drink milk straight from the carton.

It’s you too. You have a secret.

Your secret is wearing a light blue shirt today. Your secret is walking down the hallway arguing with his colleague. Your secret is the smell of cigarette smoke, whispered words and so much heat.

Your secret now is Agent Javier Peña.

He’s been your secret for weeks; weeks since the teasing banter developed into something else, to lingering touches, to kisses that you need like breathing and hands that map your body in a way you can hardly describe. You spent the month break from rainstorms in between yours and Javi’s apartments under the cover of night and cloud. Now it’s raining again, the wet season truly living up to its name.

Down in the DEA office, you can’t hear or see the rain outside. The windowless, dimly lit basement is a world away from the bustle of Bogota’s streets, yet somehow still is damp. Colombia’s wetness permeates through poorly maintained vents, through wet umbrellas in the bucket by the office door that hint at a world outside.

Steve and Javier are arguing. It’s not subtle, not a quiet disagreement between colleagues. It’s hands on hips, hands in the air, shaking heads and barely concealed curse words.

Maybe you should say something.

Or maybe not.

You try and return to your paperwork and the steaming mug of coffee you’ve been anticipating ever since your morning cup. There’s a coffee shop a few steps from your apartment building and you’ve finally convinced them to sell you some of their coffee blend. It’s not quite the same, but it’s close.

You think of breakfast this morning. The ghost of Javi’s lips on yours.

There’s a noise, a clearing of a throat and you look up to see Steve and Javi standing in front of your desk.

“Messina’s in meetings until five.”

“I know,” Javi says.

“It’s you, we want to speak to.”

You raise an eyebrow. Whatever this is between you and Javi relies on the two of you barely acknowledging one another in the office.

“You’re fluent in Spanish, right?” Steve asks directly.

You nod, still perplexed at how Steve’s Spanish is . “Why?”

“Firearm trained? You’re not just a desk jockey, right? You’re qualified?”

“Came third in my class.” You may have been a little higher if not for a terrible argument with your parents two days before your final exam. It hadn’t been your finest hour. You still carry it with you in every awkward phone call, every stilted letter home.

“Okay. That’s good. So, I don’t see the problem, Javi.”

“She came third. Who came first?’

“Really?” you ask incredulously, hurt and anger raging. How fucking dare he? You’ve told him about how hard it is to be taken seriously in the department, how the sexist roots prevail even with Messina in charge. Institutions can’t change overnight - they need people like you to fight them. Javi had emphasised, talked about his own barriers, the presumptions people had from his surname, his heritage.

He has the decency to look away, eyes abashed and fixated on the floor. Good, you think, that’s the very least he could do.

“I can get one of my informants -” No, you think, no, not one of Javi’s informants. You’ll do it, whatever Steve needs, surely you can do it instead?

“What do you need, Steve?”

This morning feels a world away now, but you let the memory take you away from this moment, from Javi’s inscrutable look when you said yes to Steve, from the fact you’re doing something this brave, this dangerous. You remember the coffee on the stove, its rich aroma seeping through the room as you wander out of Javi’s bedroom. Hands behind, wrapping around your wait and turning you around to meet his kiss. His hands move down your nightdress, teasing at the lacy hem as he moves them underneath. Laughing between kisses. “It’s raining,” you say. “I noticed,” he teases, tracing kisses down to your neck and then back up your jaw. “I think of you when it rains.” “Oh, yeah?” Javi stops for a second and looks at you quizzically. “Of how we got talking, of how we got from there, in that moment to here.” “Well ,I’ve never been more grateful to be caught in the rain.”

You’re starting to wonder if there was ever a time in Colombia that it wasn’t raining. The stormy clouds add to the greyness and foreboding of the street you’re currently parked in.

“Don’t,” Javi says quietly, the rain hitting the car windows and roof, echoing loudly around you. “Please don’t do this.”

You chance a look at him. “Do you not believe I can do this?” you ask, the concealed firearm heavy on your side, the wire Javi had put on feeling all to visible to you. He’d swallowed as he did it, featherlight fingers trying not to linger, you wondered if he was also trying not to default to the usual way he’d touch you.

“Oh, baby, I know you can.” Javi swallows. “But I want to be selfish and tell you not to do this. This isn’t a game, it’s not a drill -”

“I know that. I’ve been through the same training -”

“It’s different. You’ve not seen what I’ve seen.”

“I can handle it,” you reply simply.

“I don’t want you to.”

“Don’t be a sexist.”

“Don’t be so naive then, goddammit!”

“I’ve read the reports, studied the intel. I am not some naive ingenue here, Javi, fuck you for saying that. You made out I was stupid earlier, like I was some -”

“I’m sorry.” You can hear the apology is genuine.

You don’t reply, letting the rain speak for you instead. If you’re honest, you are nervous. This is your first undercover assignment and is so beyond the comfort and safety provided by your windowless desk.

It’s the job though, it’s what is needed.

“I’ve got this, Javi, whether or not you believe in me,”

“I do believe in you. I am sorry. I just - I don’t like it out here. I don’t like me out here, I don’t like who I am or who I become and I don’t - you’re still you. That’s part of what I love about you.”

You raise an eyebrow, meet Javi’s gaze. “Love, huh?”

You expect him to walk his words back, to huff or not say a word. He just shrugs.

“You ready?” Steve asks through the walkie talkie.

You nod before catching yourself, pressing the button and saying, “Yes, yeah, I’m ready and in position.”

“Okay, keep it to what we agreed, nothing else and keep it quick.”

Next to you, Javi looks at you pointedly, reinforcing Steve’s words.

“Understood,” you say and you can’t help but chance a smile at Javi as you unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car.

Rain hitting your skin.

Your heart’s racing, it’s so loud you can feel it in your ears. The incessant beating and drumming of adrenaline coursing through your body.

You should be cold, but you’re not. Not as they load them into the van, as Steve pats you on the back to congratulate you on a job well done.

You wish your undercover persona was the type of woman who wore a coat on a rainy night. You wrap your arms around yourself.

You can still hear the gunshot. The shouts.

There’s a weight on your shoulder, the scent of cologne, cigarettes … Javi permeating through your haze.

He stands next to you, leaning against the wall, a lit cigarette between his fingers.

“I’m fine,” you say urgently.

“I know.”

“It’s just … a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought they had made me towards the end.”

Javi pauses, taking a long drag of his cigarette before offering you it. You accept it with surprisingly shaky hands.

“I did too,” he admits in a low voice.

“But they didn’t.”

“They didn’t.” Javi pauses. “You did great.”

“You haven’t.”

“I haven’t, what?” he asks playfully, turning to face you. In the dim streetlight, you notice each feature of his face, how it’s illuminated in yellow light and how deep brown his eyes really are. His brow is furrowed, hair slightly dishevelled in the way you normally associate with a good night, but you know from his bad days in the office is from running his hand through his hair too many times.

“Changed,” you say. “You said you don’t like who you become, but you’re you, Javi. I like you. All of you.”

“You say shit like that, I’m going to end up kissing you right here.”

“Dare you,” you tease.

He smirks. “I would,” he replies in a low voice.

“It’d be romantic, with the rain and all. Maybe less so with our colleagues around though. ”

“Is that what you want?”

“Do you?” It’s the first time the two of you have broached this subject. For months, you’ve existed in peace with the parts of Javi he can give you out of an assumption that was all that he could offer. Today seems to have changed things though.

Javi swallows.

“Take away the job, or who you’re hunting, take it all away for a moment. Would you want - would you want to be with me like that?”

“If we were in Texas, if none of this was going on, then nothing would stop me.”

“I’ve never been to Texas,” you muse.

“When this is over, we can go,” Javi says and the vulnerability in his eyes is so alien.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Looks like it’s still raining,” Javi says, noticing your attention at the view outside.

“Yep,” you say, “I suppose we should head back to everyone else, right? Finish the paperwork?”

“I didn’t say it this morning, but I think of you too. When it rains, I always think of you.”

Tag List

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

#javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña x you #UndercoverAprilShowersChallenge #javi pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x reader

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thecapricunt1616 · 1 month

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Allspice (c.b oneshot)

♡ O.S Inspo: Forever & Always - Fearless (TV) ; "Was I out of line, did I say something way too honest, made you run and hide like a scared little boy?" ♡ Pairing : CarmyxAFAB Reader as little physical description possible | She/Her pronouns used, NO use of Y/N :)

♡ Summary: You have a very successful Culinary Review blog, the social media manager of one of your new hometown restaurants 'The Bear' has been dying to get you out to try their food. But since the EC is a bit of an overzealous competitor, you end up having to go back for round 2- you end up having a delicious dinner, and a free show.

♡ W/C: 4,381

♡ Posted Date: 03/18/24

♡ A/N: FIRST THING: I am HORRIDDDD at writing Claire- I'm much better at writing Carmy cause were alot more similar- so this Claire isn't gonna be CRAZY canon, but I think she got the job done. Anyway- EEEEEP!!! Here is my VERY FIRST ONE SHOT EVER!! Inspired by my amazing, wonderful, PRECIOUS FLOWER @daysofyellowroses that can be found here :) AAAAA!!! My precious Rose I hope you enjoy this, It could ABSOLUTELY have a part 2 if y'all like it. I ended it here cause I'm sooo wordy and I didn't want it to turn in to a multi-chap. fic by mistake...but ofc if y'all want more just tell me and ill get RIGHT TO WORK!!! I really hope this comes off how I saw it in my head. There's no smut/sexy stuff, just mutual pining and flirty teasing, I hope thats ok!! aaa here we goooo!!! Enjoy <3

♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, Drinking alcohol (Literally it LOL)

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

Being a Food Critic wasn’t an easy gig, as much as people wanted to believe it’s simply going to famous restaurants, trying their most popular dishes- and giving your opinion, it was much more then that.

Each and every aspect of the restaurant was under your review, from the second you walked in the door, you were judging everything. From the atmosphere, to the music, to the decor, to the comfortability of the furniture all of it, was to meet your expectations if the owner of the establishment wanted a good review.

Today was finally the day you'd review one of the restaurants that had sent 3 requests for you to feature a review of them on your blog.

The Bear. Interesting name, you thought.

With the rugged name- you’d assumed a more millennial hipster-New American vibe. But when you’d arrived- you were quite…impressed? That instead of leaning into that all too common aesthetic, it was more of a classy, comfortable vibe.

They’d not even had bear art, anything of the sort. It was pure comfort, mixed with subtle class. The kind that spoke to the cost of the dishes- but wasn’t in your face obnoxious. The only ‘Bear’ was the little golden bear embossed into the leather menu you’d been handed when seated at the table.

The way you did your reviews was…a tad unusual - some chefs in the industry called it ‘unfair’ but you called it…the fairest things could be. Instead of telling them when you’d be swinging by for a review since where’s the fun in that you’d call, make a reservation under some random name, and they’d know you’d accepted their offer when the review had been posted on your blog.

It felt most honest and fair because you were one of the most renowned food critics in the country right now. If they knew you were coming- any EC with a brain would spend the night before your arrival, prepping the entire restaurant and staff - assuring they’d be on their best behavior to try and squeeze a higher grade out of you.

But you were just a reader once upon a time, years ago- when you realized in culinary school that the making of the art didn’t interest you, it was the observing. Food wasn’t just about taste, but rather the whole experience. And if every famous food critic you’d taken interest in back in the day- never got a true experience due to their notability? You’d never have gotten into this field. So, you were most keen on keeping things fair.

A woman with mousey brown hair comes up to your table, dressed in the typical waitress slacks and black button up shirt. “Hello! Welcome to The Bear. My name is Sam, have you dined with us before?” she asks.

You sit up in your chair, peeling your eyes from the menu. You give her a small kind smile “I haven’t” you replied, urging her to continue her script.

“Well welcome in, we're so happy you chose to spend your evening with us. So for our menu” she opens it in front of you. “Here” she points “are our wine options, fabulous selection this month. Then we have draft beers right next to it. On the following page” she points “all of our craft cocktails, then this,” she points in the bottom corner.

“Our house cocktail - Just called The Bear. It’s wonderful, if you like old fashions you’ll love this - made with Bearface Triple Oak Whiskey.” She said and you nod.

“That please. That’s what I’ll start with” you said and she nodded.

“I’ll get that right in. But quickly, just so you’re aware” she flipped the page and pointed.

“These - are the dishes of the month. Each crafted by one of our two head chefs, they change monthly so if something calls to you I recommend you try- because it won’t be back” she said. You raised your eyebrows a bit in surprise and nod.

“Thank you” you said and she gives a nod before heading off to the bar to put in your drink order before heading off to tend to other tables in your section.

Having an alternating menu intrigued you, for such a high end establishment- one with a Michelin star at that- implementing such a menu would consistently have their star at risk. One dish, one app, one drink- that was not up to par and it would be revoked. You guessed the owners of this place liked living on the edge, as if being in this industry wasn’t already being constantly on edge.

You gaze over the menu, the Chilean Seabass sounded like a fair assessment. Seafood was quite difficult to get right, especially in the springtime before peak season, and you’d be able to judge the consistency of the chopping and such because there was a fresh tomato corn salad that came with it. That was your rule when you came to judge restaurants, one main course, and one dessert.

You’d felt like the main courses were the true stars of the show anyhow, and it would be unfair to muck up your palate with an app that was usually something easy to get right (since they were usually fried, covered in cheese, or some kind of carb). And the dessert usually showed the restaurant's creativity, which you loved to see, so 2 dishes was your max.

The waitress returns with the cocktail, setting it down with a napkin under it. “Here you are, now- have you decided on a starter?” She questioned and you shook your head.

“Straight to the good stuff, I’d like the Chilean Sea Bass please. And for dessert,” you flick the page and your eyes settle on the words savory cannoli - hmm, imaginative indeed. “And uh- The Michael Cannoli?” You said, shutting the menu and handing it to her.

She nods with a smile, jotting down the order into her notepad before taking the menu and holding it to her chest. “That will be out soon as possible. Enjoy your drink” she said and headed back to the kitchen.

You sit back sipping the cocktail and humming. She was right, much like an old fashioned, but floral notes. Almost…chamomile? Yes! That was it. Very interesting.

You slipped your iPad out of your bag, opening up your journaling app and grabbing the pencil out of the little sleeve. You quickly snapped a picture with your phone of the drink, airdropping it to yourself and adding it into the entry and writing;

‘To start; ‘The Bear’ house cocktail- initial thoughts ; not too sweet, strong (but not overpowering), chamomile? Some kind of herbal tea flower’

You take another sip, letting the flavors sit on your tongue a moment before swallowing. “Mmm!” You hum to yourself, finally realizing where the herby taste beneath the chamomile was coming from that gave it that oaky piney taste.

‘Angostura bitters- will confirm!!’ You wrote just as someone approaches your table. You look up to see a man, short brown hair, stubble. He was smiling, holding a plate.

“Hello! Here we have Arancini with our house-made pesto, courtesy of Executive Chef Carmen” he placed the dish in front of you next to your iPad. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, looking up at him, scarcel confused.

“Wrong table” you murmured, thumbing the dish back in his direction lightly. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Nope- ah, he- he said this table.” He replied. It did smell fantastic, and any other day you’d never deny delicious, deep fried balls of risotto dipped in smooth, decedent pesto- but you’re working right now and it’s not fair.

“Well, you can tell him” you lifted the dish, offering it back. “I have a system. And I’m unsure how he realized that I’m coming here, tonight, but I dislike cheaters. And he should know if he’s read my blog- I don’t muck up my palate with grease before I try the main course.” The plate was so close to him now it was nearly digging into his chest.

He nodded quickly, taking the plate without another word and briskly walking back to the kitchen. You sat back in your seat with a slight scoff.

He thinks he can win you over just like that? How did he even know you would be here?

You picked up your pencil once again, adding a note.

For the chef; Arancini smelt delicious. Didn’t order it, so I didn’t taste it . Presentation wise; 7/10. Pesto looked like it was spooned in the dish a tad bit messy to me.

You smiled to yourself, you knew he’d read the final review once it was posted. And since he wanted to be a little cheater and get a overall higher score since he was trying to weasel you into trying extra dishes- you’d kick his ego down a few extra pegs for fun.

You sat, nursing your drink, adding extra little notes here and there, as well as editing a blog post about Ghost Kitchens you’d been working on and how they were ruining the mobile order industry on the side. You were so engrossed in the work, that you hadn’t even realized someone had approached your table until they cleared their throat awkwardly.

Your gaze slowly travels up, seeing a blue apron covering a white shirt, tattooed hands holding- your meal? Your eyes flicker up to his piercing blue ones. “Chilean Sea Bass” he sets it in front of you. You snort a laugh.

“Hm.” You look around before back at him “These people” you motion to the restaurant. “Other patrons. Which meals of theirs did you bring out- Chef?” You accentuate the last word, it was all too uncommon for a chef to personally bring a meal out to a table.

You swore even in the ambient lighting, his cheeks flushed slightly. “You- uh- you declined, my Arancini. Why?” He asked, holding his hands behind his back, the position making his already toned and tattooed arms appear more muscular. It makes him all the more impressive he has all these tattoos and still made it in this industry. I can only imagine the shit he got for them.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his boldness. “Because that’s Cheating. Mr.Berzatto. I’d assume you know my work well. Considering you know what I look like, so- why try to cheat? You know how I feel about appetizers. It’s a scapegoat.” You shrugged, locking your iPad when you realized he’d been peeking at the notes.

“Messy” his eyes narrow. He scoffs a bit, alluding to the note you’d written a short while prior “Messy?” He asks again, you laugh a bit.

“Mmhmm! Oh, was it you chef? Wow…I mean- now that I think about it” you shook your head, now just messing with him since you see how much he was dying to impress you. “I could’ve sworn- the pesto it just..was too loose. Overblended maybe? That’s why it was impossible to plate without making a mess.” You shrugged, cutting up your fish carefully and spreading the vegetables with your knife to observe the cohesivity of the cuts.

He scoffs, “too- too loose?! W-y’know what. No. No. It- you’re gonna try it.” He demands and you look up at him, nearly laughing at the seriousness of his tone.

“That depends. Bring me a pesto worth trying and I’ll think about it. Now” you wave him off casually “I can’t work with the chef over my shoulder. So- Shoo chef don’t bother me” you teased and he shook his head.

“Game on.” He muttered, heading back to the kitchen.

You smiled to yourself, the Arancini absolutely isn’t going into the review. But you’ll humor his ego by trying it.

You cut the fish thoroughly, checking the texture and the evenness of the seasonings slathered on the skin, writing little notes as you go along. The cuts of the vegetables were pristine. Nearly perfect. The only misshapen pieces were clearly cosmetic defects of the vegetable. The chef that cut these was immaculate with a knife.

When you took your first bite, you nearly moaned. The fish was buttery, the skin was crispy, slightly spicy, tangy, the flesh melted in your mouth. The risotto was so cheesy and buttery and wonderful. You could eat this meal every night for the rest of your life and never get sick of it. It was the best Sea bass you’d ever tasted.

You opened your iPad again, jotting down notes about the flavors, the mouth feel, all the usual points you hit in your review.

This meal is a 9.2 out of 10.

You write at the bottom. Very fair score, you never had rated something as a 10. Something being a 10 would be- you don’t even know what it would be. But it would be what the score says, perfection. And while this dish was wonderful, and very very good- it was not perfect. At least to your heavily trained palate.

You finished what you wanted out of the meal, pushing the plate to the side and not soon after, Carmen was back at your table. He placed the plate in front of you, 3 perfectly circular Arancini discs were placed equal distance on the plate, and truly beautiful pesto, sat in the dish alongside it. It frankly was immaculately plated.

“Unbroken pesto. Sorry again, about the last one.” He said, watching you carefully. You hum as you grab your fork, splitting one of the discs and digging out some of the risotto.

“Could be firmer.” You said, eyes flicking to his. He nods, clearing his throat a bit.

“It’s not- uh- it’s”

“Fresh” you finished for him, raising your brows and he nods. “So- since you’re frying it. You cook it for about..a minute- maybe forty seconds less than you usually would.” You said, daintily taking the bite off your fork.

“Heard..” he nodded, waiting for your reaction. You hummed a bit.

“Great balance of parm and butter though. I’ll give you that. Neither overpowers the other, that’s hard to do considering the notes” you added, cutting up the crust and tasting it.

“Mm-“ you scrunch your nose and his face visibly drops. “Mm-mm…no- not peanut oil…why would you do that? It totally overpowers the breadcrumb with this like…cheapy taste. I’d say it would be way better if you fried it in sunflower oil” you added, digging out more of the risotto and dipping it in the pesto before having a bite and humming.

“This though” you point at the little dish of green sauce with your fork. “This is great.” You add and he nods.

“Ok-yeah…ok…” he nods, rubbing his hand over his chin. “Thank y’for trying it.” He said and you nod.

“I’ll be back for a fair assessment. I think I’ll pass on the cannoli tonight, and just get the bill. Thank you” you slipped your pencil in the case before putting your iPad in your bag and holding your hands on the table in front of you.

“Y-y’re coming back” he said, sounding slightly surprised.

You shrugged “well- you clearly want a full review based on your behavior tonight, Chef. So I’ll humor you. I won’t tell you when of course, so just pray that it’s a day like today-“ you paused, looking around. “Where things seem to be running…alright.” You sat back in your chair casually with a small smile.

“I look forward to your review.” He gave a nod and headed back to the kitchen.

It was 3 weeks before you’d decided to return back to The Bear spring had quickly turned to early summer, and you thought you’d given enough time for your little conversation with the head chef to slip his mind.

It was 9:20, 40 minutes before closing. You did promise to come back at a random time, and no time is more random then a Friday night less than an hour before the kitchen closed.

You pulled open the door, stepped in and headed up to the host stand where the same man that originally offered you the Arancini stood. “The picky critic returns.” He said, tapping his pen against the reservation book absentmindedly.

“She does” you smiled a bit.

“Well lucky f’you cousin said you get a table any time, right this way” he leads you to a booth near the back, where you had a perfect view of the restaurant. Much cozier then before, right next to the doors of the kitchen where you could hear the back of house crew buzzing about.

“Same cocktail as last time?” He asked and you raised your brows in slight surprise as you sit.

“No waitress?” You asked, getting comfortable and setting your iPad down next to the empty plate.

“She’ll be over, just figured a friendly offer couldn’t hurt” he said with a small smirk.

You roll your eyes playfully. “House cocktail please, and thank you. But don’t count on kindness boosting your hospitality score-“ you stop, realizing he never gave you his name.

“Richie” he said, sticking his hand out to shake.

“Richie.” You repeat, giving him your firm professional shake.

“House cocktail comin’ up” he said and headed back to the bar. You mulled over the menu, lemon chicken picatta, that sounded like a perfect dish to judge this time around.

A few minutes later, Richie returns, setting the glass down in front of you. “Waitress should be by momentarily, enjoy your meal” he said, heading back to the host stand.

A bit after the waitress came to take your order, the restaurant had begun to die down. You were going to be the last person served tonight it looked like, since in 5 minutes they would stop seating people.

You added additional notes to your section about the cocktail, getting a better photo of it for your blog when you hear a bit of commotion up front.

You look up, to see a woman with curled brown hair in navy blue scrubs, her hands on her hips, talking with Richie with a frustrated look. There were tears in her eyes, you couldn’t help but tune in to their conversation.

“Richie, please let me see him- he- he hasn’t said anything and I…I just need to hear him say it to my face. Please!” She begs, tears were streaming down her face now.

Richie looks around nervously, tugging her to the side so they weren’t standing right in front of the host stand. You lean over just a bit- not so much it would be noticeable, but enough your nosy ears could continue to pick up what was being said.

“Claire. You shouldn’t be here…I’m sorry- he told me-he said that..that you can’t come here anymore. It’s too much and he will apologize when he can find the words. But he can’t. So please before he sees you. Leave” he said softly, attempting to soothingly rub her arm and she jerks away like his touch burned her skin.

“Fuck you, Richie. Get him. Now. I’m not working on his time anymore. This is my time now. I’ve waited around enough for him. I’m done waiting. Either get him yourself? Or I swear to god I’ll go in that kitchen and embarrass the fucking shit out of him” she hissed.

Your eyebrows raised, shit. Whoever fucked her over should at least be warned.

He snorts, clearly amused before stepping back and raising his arms in defeat. “Have at it ClaireBear.” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You think he’s gonna take kindly to you startin’ w’him in his house? Be my guest.” He shrugged, going back over to the host stand.

And then it clicked. She’s here for Carmen.

She laughed dryly, sarcastically, like a woman who’d had it. “You think I’m scared? Richie? You think I’m scared of little Carmy who couldn’t even check out a library book by himself? mm?” She goads him, arms crossed, chest heaving with rage.

His head snaps back to look at her, brows raised in shock. “Kid- I really think you should go calm the fuck down, because Y’re not gonna like the way that this conversation ends w’him- at all.”

And with that, she shoves open the kitchen door. You couldn’t just sit there and not watch- this was the juiciest drama you’d ever been privy to in person, and this means he’s single. You slightly curse yourself for being so giddy that this means the sexy chef would likely be on the market.

Your foot catches the door before it closes, leaning against the frame. She storms in, eyes frantically darting over the kitchen.

“Carmen.” She barks, the entire kitchen stops moving and looks at her, as if they were in shock and awe someone would ever raise their voice to him in such a way.

He rounds the corner, holding a pan of focaccia dough that he nearly drops at the sight of her. He blinks a few times, squeezing his eyes shut as if she’d disappear when he opened them again.

“The fuck are you-“ his eyes meet yours, his face going pale quickly, he looked white as a sheet. “Leave.” He orders her, slamming the dough down on the counter.

“Leave?!” She laughs coldly, “you’re gonna tell me to leave?! You’re a fucking pussy Carmen. A pussy. Y’know- it was charity giving you a chance. Pity work.” She spits and you blink a few times, taken aback by such harsh words.

Is she serious? She thinks anyone could believe dating a super hot, ripped, talented, chef prodigy - that was charity work in any sense of the word?

He scoffs, “Charity?” He chuckled dryly. “Claire- you begged me to fuckin’ be with you! You-you-y’re a fuckin gnat! Claire! You- all you do is-is fuckin’-” he runs his hand through his hair, his chest heaving in anger, “You dont know me, Claire! Alright? There- And I-I-I don’t want you i’m-i’m sorry-”

She laughed, shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. “You-” she whispered, her chest shaking with a sob. “You- fucker- I- I gave you a chance…” she whispered and gripped her wrist sadly. “I- I was there for you, Carmen- when no one else could fucking stand you.” she croaked.

“And I never asked for you too- please- just…leave me alone-” he shook his head. “Leave. Please…just-pretend we never happened, it was a mistake, Claire.” he breathed, clearly utterly defeated, and It sounded like he’d told this girl these same words multiple times.

“M-Mikey would be sick- Carmy, he’d- he’d hate who you’ve become…” she said meekly, and with that- something behind his eyes snapped.

“Claire I’m not DOING THIS I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKIN’ RESTAURANT. WERE OVER. YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME! YOU MEAN NOTHING CLAIRE!” He roars, the veins in his neck popping out, angrily and aggressively pointing to the door. “OUT. get the fuck out. G-get out, b-before I-I-I fuckin- holy fuck” he finds his composure once more, even though his breath was still ragged from his outburst, flicking his hand next to him his entire body trembling with panic.

She looks to her left and right, she’s not that-

Your thoughts were quickly proven wrong, when you see she was stupid enough to grab a pan off the stove to whip at him.

“Aht!” the spanish woman standing a few paces to the right said, quickly grabbing the arm with the pan and twisting it behind her back. “Drop it.” she hissed.

Carmen looks between the two of them, utterly in shock. “Y-y’were gonna hit me?” He asked her, face twisting in rage. “Fuck you. Fuck you Claire.” He seethed, taking the pan from his employees grasp and tossing it in the sink with a loud clatter.

“Get the fuck out” you told her, grabbing her from the handle of the woman who’d stopped the assault, shoving her towards the kitchen door and into the front of the restaurant. “Y’re a fuckin crazy bitch.” You laughed dryly, giving her a hard shove for good measure.

“Oh and who are you” she straightened herself out, pushing her bag up on her shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. Glad to see that Carmy still needs someone to protect him. I’ll gladly give up that spot.” she said, causing you to laugh.

“Oh my god- you are pathetic. He just spelt it clear as day sweetheart- you are over. O-v-e-r. He doesn’t want you babe! And no, he doesn’t need my protection- I was enjoying dinner and apparently a show until you went batshit bitch.” You snip, plopping back down at your booth.

She scoffed “he doesn’t want anyone. The only thing he wants - is to remain miserable. Good fucking luck, whoever you are.” She said before stomping out.

“Yo she was really gonna throw somethin?” Richie asked as he walked over. Thankfully, it was just you, him, and the bartender in the front of the restaurant.

You nod “thankfully she didn’t realize I was there- Carmen would have had a nasty burn, and a concussion.” You said, taking a large sip of your drink.

Carmen comes out, eyes meeting yours immediately. “Fuck- I- don’t worry y’re meal is comped and don’t…don’t worry about a review, i’m sorry- I-I guess it wasn't in the cards f’r us to be featured on y’r blog... I’m really so sorry… Shes- ah..” he rubs his arm nervously, trying to find the words.

“A woman scorned” You teased, and he snorts a laugh, nodding a bit.

“Hell hath no fury, right?” He joked, sighing a bit. “It’s uh…it’s my fault I guess…I uh- I should’ve dealt with that…I've been putting it off” he said and you nod a bit.

“You off the clock?” you looked at your phone for the time, 10:07.

“Shit- fuck- sorry- I’m so sorry- give me like- I was making y’r food…and then-” you shook your head, stopping him.

“No- No…I was uh-Asking to see if you maybe wanted to..have a drink with me? Not-not like…professionally…” you shrugged, stirring your half full cocktail with the bar straw that floated in it.

“Sure- uh…sure- I’d like that lemme..lemme go change, i’ll be right out” he nodded, heading back into the kitchen.

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twilightprince101 · 9 months

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Let's be careful before labeling Wally or Home as "The Villain" of Welcome Home

Or anyone for that matter imo

Listen, I can completely understand why people would go to that conclusion. "So Below" and the eerie vibe that Wally gives off in his obsession don't exactly give either a flattering light (I know there are also the art pieces on Clown's personal blog, but I'm not counting anything that hasn't been officially released yet)

But whenever someone labels a character who is acting weird as "the villain," it puts a bad taste in my mouth. At the end of the day, characters in fiction are real people with motivations, so labeling one as "evil" or "the villain" can sometimes erase that complexity. And after the most recent update, we know that Wally has A Lot of very, very complicated feelings about the situation.

Before I get into that though, I wanna point out something that Clown himself has said describes the brand of horror that "Welcome Home" gives off to themselves personally. Click here for the link to the post.

"My home doesn't feel like home anymore."

That line sticks to me pretty hard. There's a pervasive feeling of unfamiliarity, unreality, that exists in the core of the story itself.

I think we see, firsthand, Wally experiencing this in the latest updates. In all of the hidden Bug/Answer secret videos, we see a familiar pattern. We get some sort of scene of two other characters talking, a scene in whatever universe they call home, until at the very end one of the characters addresses Wally (who was apparently there the whole time) and the video glitches out.

A key part that not a lot of people seem to realize though is that these videos are from Wally's perspective. See the above picture with Wally's hands. In every scene, Wally is present and was supposedly taking part in an activity (in the above one, helping Poppy with knitting), before the video started playing.

Whenever I saw these videos I had that same feeling that something felt. Different. The interactions felt like scenes you would see in the animated/cartoony aesthetic we'd see from the various art pieces, it doesn't feel like it's "on set/TV" to me. They're moreso just intimate glimpses into their lives. But they're shot in the real world, and that feels. Wrong.

This is very likely the same feeling that Wally's having in that moment. "My home doesn't FEEL like home." It's like he's disassociating, having a brief episode of that unreality feeling. Those bouts of strangeness don't go away until, like clockwork, someone says his name and the video ends, snapping him out of it.

Do other people in the neighborhood also feel the same way? Maybe, but we don't know. What we do know is that Wally, whether or not he tries to explain this to others, feels isolated by this sensation. "My neighbors are only neighborly until they know I'm different in a way they can see."

The only other person he likely shares this feeling with? I'd take a guess that it's Home. Nearly every time Home has been featured, Wally has been there, close. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the only physical puppets/props we’ve seen of the cast are Wally and Home.

According to this post by @eldritchravens, Home is the only other person who talks directly to Us, the viewers. That's probably why they're so close, because they're the only ones who can truly confide in each other about this.

"So does that mean Home is manipulating Wally?"

Again, I really don't think that's the case. I don't wanna call people villains quite yet. Besides, we see (or well, hear) Home and Barnaby have a conversation together, and from how Barnaby reacts it's fairly casual.

This shared feeling is likely why Wally is so obsessed with us, including the Restoration Employee. They seem to be sharing a similar sensation to Wally's bouts of unreality, in the fact that it seems they're the ONLY one who doesn't remember Welcome Home being a thing. They seem to be one of the few things that Wally (and maybe even Home) consider to be "Real." Hence their obsession with "seeing" us.

"Isn't this Wally or Home manipulating the Employee though?"

Maybe, I don't know. We don't really know much of what's going on right now, we're only getting glimpses. For all we know this could be a side-effect of Wally/Home trying to reach out. For the time being though, I want to keep my own expectations in check. I'm choosing not to label Wally, Home, The Restoration Team or anyone as a "villain" until something definitive comes up.

It is very, very likely that Wally is going to be doing something more dangerous later down the line (or maybe even is doing so now). But if he's doing anything, I get the feeling it's more out of desperation. He wants something to quell this feeling inside of him, this pervasive sense of unreality, and to connect with something he feels is "real." And, for better or for worse, that thing is us.

This whole thing isn't to bash on people for speculation or theorycrafting, I personally think speculation is very healthy! But it's still important to remember what the core of this story is going to be. We're only seeing the very start of the story right now, and we don't know what'll happen down the line. It's useful to keep that core idea at the center of our speculation so we can have reasonable expectations going forward.

As for me? This doesn't feel like a story with villains. I don't think he'll pull a Monika from DDLC and start gaining a kill count, but if something does happen to the rest of the cast, my money is that it'll happen completely by accident, and he'll regret it. Hard.

#scopophobia #welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home wally #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #Restoration employee #welcome home restoration project #twi talks #doki doki literature club #ddlc #welcome home july update #eldritchravens #the playfellow exhibition #poppy welcome home #poppy partridge #partycoffin #welcome home clown

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leoascendente · 3 months

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PAC/ Who's thinking about you? ✨️

Hi my loves! ❤️ Welcome to this new pac about the person who has you currently on their mind. As always, take only what resonates with you and leave what doesn't. Take a deep breath before choosing your pile and pick the one that calls you the most, hope you like it :)

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The pictures are taken from the blog of @simena, my absolute favorite blog, highly recommended<3

Pile 1/Pile 2/ Pile 3

Pile 1:

Who and why?:

(Cards: 3 of wands, 4 of cups rev, 8 of swords rev, death/ ace of pentacles, 7 of swords rev, 4 of pentacles, hermit rev)

I feel a friendship vibe from this pile, this is a person that you thought would be in your life for a really long time, you felt really happy and fulfilled by this person's side, everything seemed to be fie but something happened that you lost contact with eachother, for some I see you had to consciously pull them off your life because they were becoming a toxic influence. Even though you had future plans with this person, maybe a travel or something like that, you decided to leave them behind or the relationship ended before aything bad could happen to you. I feel this was a friendship of yours who was troublesome but you didn't realize of their true colors until it was late, I see here that you really loved and appreciate them deeply and their actions after the separation dissapointed you, like the kind of people that talks bad at your back so they look nicer to the eyes of others.

This person feared that you could find out some truths about them that they wanted to keep hidden, I'm also hearing 'copycat' energy so this person was trying to make theirs your ideas or projects, this person lacks originality and have to absorv it from others like a parasite, even if sounds bad. I really feel that the person who decided to cut off this relationship was you in order to protect yourself and your wellbeing, it might sound weird but it seems like everything was fine on the outside but there was a perceptible tension in the air that you were avoiding or not giving the proper importance to. They are thinking about you because you were a lighthouse for them, their life was better when you were on it and they know it.

Future actions:

(Cards: queen of wands rev, wheel of fortune rev, page of swords, queen of swords)

This person will try to enter your life again, expect a suddent text message or call from them, it has taken them a lot of effort to do it and I even see the have written you before but never sent the message. I take the queen of swords as an advice for you to act more strategicaly and, if you feel like responding the message or call, do it in a cold way because they are coming from a place of interest not love, and might even try to force an argument to prove you wrong. This person is projecting a lot of things over you because they feel small, even more if this separation between you two happened a long time ago, this person feels frustrated about the fact that you could move on and they don't, they might even be jealous of how your life is currently going and the blessings you are receiving. Things look to be moving against this person and they saw you as their lucky charm, now that they don't know how to get out of the circumstances they created, they are coming back into your life for you to save them. Be intelligent my dear, don't let them manipulate you because those are their intentions, play smart.

Pile 2

Who and why?:

(Cards: 7 of wands, hanged man, 3 of swords rev, 10 of pentacles/ knight of swords rev, 5 of wands, 5 of cups rev, empress rev)

Gosh, this person is intense as hell, the kind of person that always has their guard up because thinks that the whole world is against them, always on fight or flight mode. You had a fight or argument with this person that led to break the relationship, this person might be a pisces sun or moon, this person is really defensive and rarely take things lightly, it feels like living in survival mode, it could be a family member for what I'm feeling. For a little amount of you I see that this person could be a love interest that kept you moving back and forth but never commiting to you, they used you for their own interest and avoiding facing the truth of their behavior, this person, whoever it is, is really conflictive within themselves and with the world, they don't know how to keep and care the relationships in their life. If you resonate with the love interest option, this person might be dealing with someone that will treat them the same way they treated you, they are about to receive a heavy karmic lesson.

This person was a little jealous of you, and instead of being ispired by your energy they saw you as a threat even though it was never your intention to make them feel that way. I see that this person holds so much anger and rage within that they need to create any excuse to start an argument so they can release those emotions in a toxic way with people that don't really deserve it. You know that kind of people that get yelled at on their work by their boss and act submissive but when they arrive home they start yelling at everyone the way they wish they yelled at their boss? Well, that's the kind of vibe I'm getting from this person. They think of you from time to time but when you appear in their mind they try hard to pull you away from their thoughts, they have remorse and they know why, they are just avoiding reality and the consequences of their own actions.

Future actions:

(Cards: 4 of pentacles, tower rev, 10 of swords rev, 6 of cups)

This person really misses you, with two 10 cards in their spread I feel like they have solved some issues that were a trouble in your relationship when you were dealing with eachother, right now they feel more positive but they still have this melancholic energy when it comes to you because they know that they could end up things in a more positive light, . They are not going to approach you, their pride is too big for that but, they think about you pretty often and, when they do, they feel remorse and guilt, they know that you were a good influence for them and are aware that their behavior was a burden that caused all the disaster. Anyway, this person thinks that you made them really happy and miss those joyful moments, they know you are a good person and recognie all the good things you made for them, they might be even looking for you in other people because I keep hearing on repeat on my mind the song Glimpse of us (beautiful song but with a very toxic message, it's singed by joji, in case you want to check it)

Pile 3:

Who and why?:

(Cards: star rev, 7 of cups rev, page of wands, strenght rev/ justice, judgement, 4 of swords, page of swords)

This might be a love interest that ghosted you and, for what it seems, for no reason, but in fact they really had serious reasons to pull you away, it might not be ghosting per se but right now there's no contact between you two for any given reason, like things just got cold. This person had a lot of unsolved bussinesses in their life that they needed to be attended by the moment they met you, this person might look very outgoing and resolutive on the outside but there's a deep anxiety they are trying very hard to hide, they might even be using sports as an scape mechanism to stop thinking about everything that's currently on their table. There's a lot of attraction between both of you and this person feels it very intensely, you left a significative mark on them and they can't forget about you, and in fact, they don't want to forget you at all but now they don't feel enough for you, or at least, like they can't offer you what you deserve.

The why is a little more complex than what I expected, for some there could be legal matters involved that they had to solve, maybe this is some kind of forbidden relationship and this person was in the middle of a divorce, whatever it is, law is involved here, for those who don't, they are going through a serious karmic lesson. This person has you on high regard and wants to offer you something real and stable but they know that the circumstances weren't the right ones, they want to present themselves as the perfect match for you and, instead of being honest and tell you about what's going on in their life they decided to let things at pause waiting for the perfect moment to come back.

Future actions:

(Cards: 3 of swords rev, high priestess, hierophant, knight of cups)

This person is coming back into your life with their heart on their hands ready to give it to you, they see you as their counterpart and they regret deeply for not acting correctly with you. Now that their problems are solved they want to come back but they have this fear of you having the door closed for them, I see they have an apology and an explanation for you but they are scared that you might reject them for their behavior. They've been thinking a lot about you and you have probably thought a lot about them too, even have some psychic glimpses of this person like dreams or intuitive toughts. Expect soon a contact from this person, they won't take too long. There's a soulmate/ twin flame connection between you two, and even if this person don't know about this kind of connections they know that there's something special here and that your connection and chemistry is true.

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