#it just makes me feel the way all those adults look at me when they ask me what i want to do with my life and i tell them an actress

[shuenkio]

That basketball player | Lhs.

Paring: Heeseung X M!reader | Genre: SMUT

Synopsis: Since when did heeseung get that big glow up? Back in the junior year he was just a guy with his bang covering his forehead but now? You can't help but to stare at him every time he is playing basketball, jingling.

Cw: masturbate in the bathroom, bigger cock Heeseung, drunk, public explicit scenes, cursing, no plot Ig, alone time, mentioned of cum, stained etc. [18+] mdni

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A#N: Yo what! I feel pity to leave y'all alone with my no update so here a smut hardcore, before I vanish once again. (Yes this is me, a bit freaky than usual ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

Being friends with a sports guy like Heeseung is not an easy job, nor is it for your mental, freaky mind. Every time you were there, watching him practice for the competition. You can't find but to stare at a little distracted place, like a weirdo. However, it's not one fault side; since Heeseung does have his own package ever since then, it'd be a jingle bell at every instance.

Not to mention, back in the junior year, Heeseung is just a guy who just hit puberty, freshly adult, bang cover all his forehead like a nerd. In the meantime, all that matters transformed into this: a hot guy with a huge beard that could squeeze a lemon, a slender yet masculine frame from head to toes, and the most glow-up part was probably his middle part.

Which you can't help but to wonder while nosebleed; imagine how'd it look like to be sight. And so on, wondering turns into reality when it's happening during the party of one of your classmates. Walking in the bathroom, as you thought nobody was there with no light on, until when the lights flickered, you were stunned, your hearts just doing a back flip once you saw the tipsy Heeseung who's jerking off on the toilet.

Omfg, is this for real? Think to yourself. Can't hide the red blush that was painted on your face, you immediately apologize and leave; however, before you could, a large hand appeared and pinged you against the door, allowing you to escape this awkward situation.

"Hmm... M/n? What a surprise to see you here during my alone time," said the half-drunk guy, looking down to see his cock peeking through his zipper, naked. In front of you, but did he care? No. You swallow down, feel like a stone stuck in your breath—this is just a dream wake-up.

Your reaction was funny enough to make Heeseung chuckle out; you seem to be nervous, shy, and lately a bit of a turn-on.

"We're alone, aren't we? Now don't hide your true colors, bud; I know you've always wanted this, isn't that right?" Heeseung claim, pointed out right through you. No way he caught you in act, but where? Yet there's no use right now to wonder about it; a big gigantic cock is staring at you right now; he was so hard his cum is leaking out, desperate for some way out of those balls.

Out of surprise, you snapped as Heeseung let out a moan, in contact with his skin too close to yours. Cover your face with your palm to evade your crazy mess face; his pre-cum began to stain on your pants!

"Fuck m/n, take a hold of it. Before I change my mind, I'm not sober," panicking Sprint free in your vein as you shudder to his words, Should you or shouldn't? This once-in-a-lifetime opportunity is so rare, you wouldn't want to go to waste.

Seeing you froze in the spot, back pressed against the door too much, Heeseung snatched one of your hands and wrapped them around his shaft. Lord, have mercy.

"Ahh, so good, m/n, euuu, that's right," biting his lip, his back arching forward, thrusting inside of your palm in rhythm. Both of his hands are pinning you in between, while he endures in pleasure. No word to say; you seem to enjoy what you're doing. His foreskin moved up and down, his tip peeking in every stroke.

Heeseung's freaky side was not what you expected; he was far more wild. Your surroundings are no longer your priority; you didn't care if anyone might hear. Continue to please the man of your dreams; no, this is a dream to be able to touch him, your friend.

A few more strokes, his hip bucking more and more needy, his balls later slipped out of his underwear, come out before slapping against the friction of his own pant. As a result, the fire in him turned on even better. Both of you can't think straight, locked in this bathroom, just the two, enjoying times together.

"Cum... I need to cum m/n!! I'm going to piss Ahh Ahh FUCK." He's knees weaken. The hands that are pinning you in find their way to belt around your waist, despairing for support, before a load of hot cum splashes out on both clothes. Heeseung is indeed sensitive; that might as well be one of his weaknesses for your dictionary.

He then falls down on the floor on his knees finally, as he leans against the wall nearby in this tight space. Draining out and overwhelmed by the masturbation. Little did you know, there's also a stain in your pants too, not only from Heeseung's cum stained. Ugh, he got you in anyway possible.

"Shit..." A couple of minutes passed, his brows furrowing while his eyes shut, before he pissed out for real.

"I—damn it." 

[222col]

coffee

★ art donaldson x reader ★ inspired by 'coffee' by chappell roan ★ 0.6k ★ 18+ | cw: angst, adult themes

art: hey, long time no speak, wanna grab a drink?

you wish you could resist, wish you'd already blocked his number. you broke up nearly a year ago, you'd met him a few times since, and it always ends the same way. you crying, him comforting you all the way back to his apartment then kicking you out the next morning. it's a repetitive cycle, one that you're not strong enough to break.

you: coffee?

coffee is safer, if you drink, you know where it leads. nowhere else is safe. you hate that you're stuck in his grip, unable to escape the delusions that fill your mind the second those blonde locks appear in front of you.

art: meet me at the jazz bar, 7pm? the one on mary ann street

ignored, your requests, your pleadings, always ignored. he knows you like the back of his hand, knows you can't resist him. he's already there when you arrive, a couple drinks in. a glass of wine waiting for you on the table accompanied by the flirty smile on his face. "hey sweet girl." you drink and catch up and tell each other lies. "i want you, come home to me." art pleads, after his fourth glass of wine. if you didn't still love him, still trust him and his intentions, you'd be fine. you wouldn't end up back at his apartment again. but you do, so your hand links through his as you walk back to his place.

"my girl, my perfect girl." you can smell the wine of his breath as he pushes you through the door of his apartment. the pictures of you are gone. you're kissing your way to the bedroom, he's got new sheets. you don't exist here anymore, you're not a part of his new life. he's moved on, well moved on enough to remove you from his home. there isn't a piece of you left here. you're almost crying into the kiss as art pushes you onto the mattress.

you: hey, wanna grab dinner?

you'll never know what kind of magic spell this boy has over you, one that makes you drop all your morals and defence mechanisms to run to him.

art: let's do the park, meet you there at sunset

the text shows any ideas of a normal conversation flying out the window. but you'd rather feel something, than nothing at all. you meet him at your favourite tree, tasting the alcohol on his tongue as his mouth crashes into yours. always excusing his behaviour, telling yourself he loves you. feeding your delusions, at least he wants to see you, feel you, taste you. "i'm sorry baby, don't cry, want you." he whispers into your ear, as his hand slips into your jeans.

art: let's grab coffee?

art was your reason to live, to cry, to love. but it wasn't healthy, you knew it and he abused it. knew he could get anything he wanted from you, knew you'd do anything he asked of you. the memories come flooding back. sat in front of him on the couch as he plaits your hair, dancing the night away at bars, watching him on the courts. looking up the tennis channel on tv, seeing art's face plastered over the screen. those curly blonde hairs, that you used to wash the shampoo out of. those big blue eyes, that used to tell you they loved you. those little dimples you used to kiss every time he got shy when you complimented him. art taught you how to love, how to care. a single tear dropping onto the phone as you text him back.

you: it's better if we don't try, it's never just coffee

[dunesofpriam]

Actually, the reason misgendering is hurtful is because it sucks having people tell you you're something you're not. It's hard enough to be born into the wrong body and to deal with the ways one's mind can try to destroy you because it recognizes how you exist as wrong, it doesn't help that when you ask someone for a little respect they spit in your face. Calling me a woman isn't wrong because being a woman is a bad thing to be, it's wrong because I was never supposed to be one and the "female body" I was born into just feels like a cheap, ill fitting costume that is constantly choking me. All most of us want is to be treated with respect. Me being trans isn't anymore of an ideology than me being bisexual is.

I'm sure it does hurt having someone tell you you're something you're not. When I was a kid my grandma told me dragons aren't real so I can't have one as a pet. Made me cry.

That doesn't make dragons real.

You can't be born in the wrong body, that mindset is born out of a the view that your body is just some vessel for your mind. You are the whole thing. Your body is you. I can understand you may have a condition(s) which make your life harder and I sympathize with that.

You say you were never supposed to be born into a female body; says who? Either you're looking to religion (which I don't ascribe to and can simply tell you I don't share your faith) or you're looking to biology, which has yet to show any actual physical condition which causes a person to be trans. At best you could say you were never supposed to feel you should have been male.

You will never be able to escape your female body, because you are female. Therefore your body will always be a female body. Perhaps if you were a frog or a parrot fish, but alas, we cannot change sex. You might feel no longer trapped if you were "perceived" as male - so you're referring to the societal constructs around male and female, in which case; congrats! That is the core of radical feminism - to deconstruct that. Women are adult female humans in the same way a bull is a male cow. It's just the term used to differentiate our sexually dimorphic species. No further inferences which can be controlled by free will should be ascribed to that, however those decisions made under free will should be analyzed and discussed to identify the societal factors causing them, and to figure out whether there is a biological component.

[kiame-sama]

Do you think we can get a pt 3 to the yandere Lilia fic? I need to see how Lilia shows Reader that he's not a child at all 🥵🔥😈. Lilia, in my opinion, is one of those yanderes with breeding and babytrapping kink. He probably wants Silver to have lots of little siblings 🥰💖.

Many hugs from Argentina 🥰🤗💖

What Are You, Twelve? (Yandere!Lilia x Reader) Pt 3

Warnings: yandere, yandere behavior, yandere temper, Lilia's yandere side gets set loose for a little bit, Lilia snaps a little, vague self-depreciating behavior/talk, real talk from reader to Lilia, Crowley is uncomfortable, Silver is uncomfortable, gender neutral reader, implied adult scenarios,

~~~~~~~~

You sat in the Headmage's office with Lilia as he had dragged you to the less than pleased Headmage and demanded the man vouch for him. Lilia had gotten more than a little persistent in his attempts to make you acknowledge his age as anything above twelve. From making other students and even teachers talk about his age, to being a bit more adult in his behavior, Lilia has tried tirelessly to convince you.

Little did Lilia know, you were actually starting to believe him. Ever since you saw the photo album with Silver, you had actually begun to believe Lilia was older than he looked, but you were hoping that continued feigned ignorance would eventually make him give up.

It was one thing when you thought Lilia was a child saying all of these salacious things to you, it is another entirely to know Lilia was centuries old and still doing this. Even as the Headmage vouched for Lilia's age over a cup of tea with the two of you, you still wanted to deny accepting his age. In the time between Lilia's attempts to win you over, you had done some digging into Lilia's past and found yourself feeling rather bland when compared to the Fae.

Why would someone like him be so determined to chase someone like you?

"I don't know... This all seems like a big joke to me still."

"How? After all of this, how? Tell me, (Y/n). You are not a dumb child of man by any means, I know that much. How can you not believe even after all of this?"

His tone was almost pained and you actually felt compelled to be honest with him despite how upset it may make him. He had been trying very hard to get you to see him as more than a child and in some regards you felt badly for making him so distraught and stressed. Granted, he was being quite obsessive and inappropriate with his conversations towards you, but this charade has gone on long enough.

"Truthfully, Lilia," you crossed your legs, trying to hold the Fae's gaze, "the simple power of willful ignorance. I figured you were being serious after Silver embarrassed himself with that photo album. He is a little lost most days, but he is no liar, even at your behest."

"So you were just teasing me this whole time. I can forgive playful or coy behavior, but this?"

"Not the whole time, no. I genuinely thought you were a child up until Silver showed me the photo album. After Silver talked to me, I decided to do some research... into you. Lilia, you do see it, don't you? I'm... not enough for you, and I likely never will be. I'm human and magicless. You're... You. Malleus showed me that you're even in our history books, for goodness sakes. I can't be any more Fae than you can be Human, so-"

The sudden sound of porcelain crunching cut you off in a sharp and jarring way, hearing the pieces crinkling to the floor in the silence that followed. You were stunned as you stared at Lilia's hand, the blood slowly dripping down from where he crushed the cup of tea he had been drinking. Even the Headmage didn't know how to react to the sudden and uncharacteristic behavior.

Lilia was silent for a long moment before he spoke and his voice chilled your very blood. Typically the cherub-faced Fae was excitable and had a certain bounce to his tone and step, almost playing up the child-like features of his. All of that life and tone was gone from his voice and it left a near monotone voice that held all too much venom for how little rage it carried.

"Say another word, and I will come completely unhinged, (Y/n). You have done plenty of talking thus far, now it is time for you to listen." He stood from his chair and began walking towards you, that same look on his face that spoke of horrors beyond his years, "I pride myself in being slow to anger and being quite the trickster in my own right. Startling people is a hobby of mine as is playing the cute school-boy persona as much as I can, but I am a father and have seen many human lifetimes."

Lilia stood in front of you now, making you suddenly feel so very small before the odd being. It really hadn't occurred to you before that moment what others meant when they said Lilia could be intimidating or even downright frightening when he wanted to be. It somewhat made you feel like you were being scolded by a figure of authority, bringing you to lower your head and refuse to meet the gaze of the suddenly intense Fae. He didn't like this and used one hand to tilt your head back so you could stare at him with wide eyes.

"You are one of the brightest and most fascinating humans I have had the pleasure of encountering in over three centuries. And here I have to listen to you talk about yourself as if you are just another face of the ever changing tapesty that makes up this school. Do you not see the things you do? The way you change the very atmosphere of a room with your presence. The way you befriend even the most enigmatic and temperamental of the student body..."

As he trailed off he seemed to become distracted with the way he held your chin, the slightest bit of warmth returning to his expression before it was gone again in an instant. When you thought he was a child it had been easy to talk to and face Lilia, despite his constant attempts at flirting he had still been a positive influence in your day. Now you wondered how you could really have been so naïve to think the wizened being before you was anything less than a centuries old enigma. He had been playing the sweet and bubbly school-boy adeptly and it fooled you all too well.

"So very frustrating to hear you've been playing coy, but- fortunately for you- it hasn't been too long of a game and I can't fault anyone for being less than forthcoming about themselves. I don't find myself chasing the children of men often, (Y/n). It is uncommon, but do you truly think that we Fae haven't figured out a way to lengthen the human life-span for those we have decided to keep? It is an unnatural life as humans aren't typically meant to live that long, but we still can do it."

You were unable to say much of anything to the Fae, feeling vaguely disturbed by the warm and slightly sticky feeling of his blood on his hand. He was not as bothered by it as you were and almost seemed to have forgotten that he has injured himself. The main thing other than intimidation that kept you quiet was the fact the usually affable Headmage had yet to say anything either. Crowley was usually the one to count on for a break in tenson but he didn't seem keen to interrupt the Diasomnia Vice-housewarden.

You couldn't blame him.

"You have no idea the things you do, but I can and will teach you if I must. Regardless, I've been quite patient and now I find myself wanting more than a bit of compensation for the emotional turmoil you've put me through. So, agree to go on a date with me and I will forgive the sleight against me and continue fostering my boundless patience with you."

A moment of silence passed and it was clear Lilia was waiting for you to say something. He seemed more than content staring at you expectantly for you to speak. The only indication of his waning patience was the way his hand moved from your chin to your neck.

"... Your hand is still bleeding."

This seemed to throw the Fae off for a moment as a kind of awareness returned to him, taking note of his injured hand on your throat. A moment of silence passed again as Lilia felt your racing heartbeat under his fingers, your pulse betraying your fear. He withdrew from you rather quickly upon feeling the physical evidence of your fear.

"To think I'm this worked up over something ultimately so trivial. You are such a unique child of man, (Y/n). You can get even my old heart stirring for the first time in a long time."

It was around this point Crowley finally spoke up, his voice pitched up ever so slightly which betrayed how uncomfortable he was in the situation. The other Fae had not expected Lilia of all students to become so enraged at your refusal. It only unsettled him further to witness the clear threat Lilia had made by putting his hand on your throat when you didn't respond to him the way he wanted.

"Well, now that is dealt with, is there any reason to continue this conversation in my office?"

"... No. No, there isn't. Is there? Not unless (Y/n) feels like trying to continue this charade."

You shook your head, trying to keep the surprisingly intimidating Fae calm. Now he knew you had been refusing him based on your own feelings of inadequacy, he could work on making you fall for him. The question was if he wanted to do this with the use of a spell, a love potion, or simply winning you over with his own charms.

~•§•~

"... Father, why is (Y/n) sleeping in your bed?"

"Because, Silver, your papa has finally managed to get what he wants from life."

"Please tell me you aren't talking about making them sit on your face?"

"Well, if you must know-"

"Nope. I don't need or want to know, actually. Forgive me for asking."

"... How do you feel about gaining a few siblings, Silver?"

[erabu-san]

First of all, I would like to thank you so much for all your support and your kind message !! Thank you so much for being patient with me too !! (you will see, I thanks a lot in this post lol)

Haha tbh I believe that ignoring and move on is a great way too! Yeees when I read this anon ask, I was wondering if they are living somewhere where pale person are oppressed and they are personally in this case and it affects them so badly that they have so much hate in them or they are just being hateful toward poc w/o any explication ? It was a bit uncomfortable And what is appealing with Genshin Impact (for me) is the fact that they use real culture to create their game ; even in the last survey, they ask if we like Natlan's authenticity (weird they only ask abt environment and music, i think they know they have issue with character design bahaha). I learn a lot about persian, algerian, but also chinese and even about french culture ! It is because people recognize themself that they start talking about it. I know there is a lot of controversial topic in Natlan, but because of this, I learn a lot on Hawai'i 's culture too. So yes, even if it is fiction, representation *is* important. And it is because they take inspiration of their culture that there is people who want a better representation, and in my opinion, this is something to not ignore !

About taking well what anon said, thank you so much ! If i can be honest tho, I didn't take it very well neither, or just I don't know how do I really felt at the moment I am an adult but I still hard time to distinguish what is morally okay or not, what is bad and good ? So if someone doesn't tell me they are explicitly a bad person with bad intention, I won't get it haha (ofc I grew up and now I identify my value and morals, but I still questionning if my morals are objectively great or not- yeaaah i was called weird for that, I am aware) Since forever I always try to understand other so I can communicate properly (at least I try), and that's why I am always interested on how does people think, why do they react in this specific way etc etc. Pro, I am patient and can take even the most violent take "well" (all depends. I am still a human) Con, I give free speech to those who have a "bad" take </3 and I apologize for that aaaa

KFSDLFSD I wish to express my angryness sometime but I just don't know if it is really adequate What if I interpret their text in wrong way as they initially try to say ? I wasn't feel offended by what they said, I was just uncomfortable because their opinion is something I consider hateful. and what if i was wrong??? But reading you all's opinion just affirm that's they were indeed rude ! I should stop overthink, life would be easier Maybe next time I have a doubt I will ask my friends's opinion before answering ksdkfsf

Oh my god thank you !!! If i can be honest, I draw Kinich this way because when I draw him w a darker skin for the first time, I thought "Oh !!! he looks so cool !!!!" and seeing a lot of positive comment abt my Kinich just makes me happy so I keep him like this ! And thank you for sharing with me informations !<<333 This is not overstepping at all ! And it is a reciprocate feeling anon ! It might be a bit weird but "angry" is such a complex feeling for me. I feel it but I don't really know how to express it in the most healthy way and it is super frustrating. So... seeing people getting mad at something I also disagree on makes me feel better !! And for this, thank you all !

I SNORT SO HAAAARD Damn Macron you again..........!! I didn't put all ask here but I read them all !! Thank you for sharing with me your opinion and reaction, it is truly interesting (and way more relaxing that the hater anon kskskss) !! and again, your support is truly meaningful for me. You all have sincere gratitude Hope y'all have a great day !! Stay hydrated too <3

[callofdudes]

*presents to you* price being a father figure to you and bringing you back to meet his wife where she treats you like her child 😭😭😭😭

Three makes a family.

John Price's history with his inability to have children was a rough one. His wife was a gentle woman with the heart of a lion inside. She had all the care a mother could provide and no children she could pour her love into. It was a struggle, but over the years they'd made due with themselves.

The idea of adoption has come up a few times, but John doesn't like the thought of being away so much from said child. It just wasn't a good situation they had found themselves in.

Price creating the 141 was just one of those ways that Price felt what it might be like to have family. Sure, he got his fair experience of what rounding up a gaggle of children would have been like. But he enjoyed the feeling of having fellow adults he could meet on his level while feeling paternal toward them.

You are one of them.

Price has had his fair share of wild run ins with you. And he's no stranger to getting you and John for something. But you were a good soldier regardless.

Talk of his family was limited of course. You guys knew he didn't have children, but not much more than that. Simon had been to the house before but refused to tell, it wasn't the greatest time when you visited anyway.

But now it's your turn to take up the mantle. Price's wife had decided she wanted company over at the house when he returned, so he invited one of you in secret as to not make the others potentially jealous or crowd his wife.

And that's how you got here, in the busy rush of the airport and following Price like a loet lamb to find the exit after grabbing your bags. Price looked around for his wife, and he spotted a sign with his name, and the most beautiful woman.

He smiled and led you over, falling in love all over again when he saw her.

"John!" She put the sign down and rushed to hug him, his firm arms curling around her. "Rebecca." *He replied fondly, kissing the top of her head. She had chest length blonde hair and a simple but lovely complexion.

You couldn't help a little smile at seeing them reunited, and a tad sheepish at meeting your captain's wife.

She opened her eyes, still smooshed against his chest and waved at you softly.

You waved back shyly.

They pulled away and Rebecca held out her hand to you. "Rebecca, and you are-"

"Everyone on base calls me Egg."

"Ah, John has told me a lot about you." She motioned for you two to follow her, walking with you back to the entrance of the airport.

"Wait- what has he been saying??" You cocked an eyebrow up.

"Only good things I promise." Price said quickly, to which Rebecca chuckled and shook her head softly.

You shot Price a look, and he innocently turned his head away to look back at his wife like nothing happened.

Rebecca gave you an entire window tour on the way back. You didn't mind listening to her introduce you to everything you passed. Her tone was warm and her smile never left her lips when he addressed you. It made you feel welcome, it was such a warm feeling that you felt around Price. Fitting.

Their house was beautiful, as much as London homes are, but theirs had a particular charm to it. Like a newly wed couple buying their first house together and never moving.

You lugged your bags up the driveway and into the house behind Rebecca, Price keeping the door open for you.

"Your place is nice." You commented when you put your bags down.

"Thank you. The spare bedroom is upstairs, I'll show you." She slipped her shoes off and motioned for you to follow.

The spare bedroom was a queen mattress, the walls were a light baby blue, and it made you smile. "Child's room?" You asked without thinking, and soon realizing your mistake.

Rebecca smiled, though her eyes dimmed in sadness. "We'd hoped. But you can have it." She went to the closet and pulled out some extra blankets. "In case it gets cold you can layer up. And if you need anything in here don't hesitate to tell us."

You nodded. "Thank you, I will."

Price squeezed your shoulder as you went to set up the room, and then turned to greet his wife properly with a loving kiss.

---

The first couple days at the house were nice, Rebecca was incredibly hospitable. She accommodated what you needed, and the double attention from Price was a win for you.

Rebecca couldn't help seeing you as a kiddo for her to take care of. The way Price was with you, wrapping an arm around you for snuggles or teasing you at dinner.

"Do you like cookies??" She asked from the kitchen as she kneaded the small balls of cookie dough and placed them on a tray.

"Cookies sound good. What kind??" You looked over at her from the table.

"Just chocolate chip. I figured I'd go simple."

You smiled a little. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

She nodded and finished putting the cookies on the tray and slid them into the oven. "They'll be out in a bit." She came by and gently patted your shoulder, a comforting touch from her.

Price came in from the patio after having a smoke and coughed when he walked in.

Rebecca and you both looked at him when he entered.

"John, be careful." Rebecca scolded softly, walking over and lifting his chin, seeing his tired eyes. She sighed softly and took his hand. "Go relax darling, a nap will do you more good than a cigar."

He hummed and shrugged. He tiredly stole a kiss from her lips before he had to lean into his arm to cough again.

You put your phone down and lightly shake your head. "Come on Captain."

Price huffed indignantly. "Oh so now both of you are policing me around??" He smirked and tugged Rebecca in by her waist and allowed you over.

But he didn't fight, allowing himself to be led to bed, and he flopped down, feeling you curl up to his left side, and Rebecca got comfy with a book at his other.

Price squeezed her hand and ruffled your hair. He wasn't old, but mannnn, he loves his old man naps.

You smiled as you got comfy, looking up at Rebecca. She looked back at you and smiled too, letting you rest.

And you woke up to the delicious smell of chocolate chip cookies. Price searched lazily for Rebecca, his arm still securely wrapped around you.

You yawned and rolled, hiding against his chest. He patted your shoulder and looked over at the door. "C'mon... I smell cookies."

"Ok..." You groaned and managed to drag yourself off of Price's chest and follow him downstairs where Rebecca was reading at the table.

"Cookies are ready." She said when she heard you two, smiling softly.

"Thank you, darling." Price said sleepily, going to the stove and taking up a cookie.

You hummed excitedly and also went for one. "Gooey." You said between bites, "I like them."

"I'm glad I could make them for you two."

She was like Price to you, a strong rock, and a warm embrace. She was like a mother, and that made you happy as much as it did her. She'd give anything to be a mother, and she wasn't picky of who it was she got to cherish.

(I know there's a lot of her character we've digested over a long time, this was the best I could come up with. I'm on a time crunch but take this. 🙂)

[maverickscoffin]

I’ve had to deal with a devastating issue today; and I feel like us Proshippers need to have a conversation really quickly about something very important.

Drawings of real minors in sexual situations should not be created or posted. Ever.

I’ve made that mistake when I was 12, and it still affects me deeply to the point I call myself a CSEM victim because of my stupid and immature decisions. (Actually, if you knew me when I was Destroyalition, you might’ve seen my vent posts about how bad it affected me when I was younger.)

I understand if you’re a selfshipper and want to show your love to your f/o by drawing you guys in romantic situations, but drawings of real kids in those situations are risky. Sexual drawings of that nature are something we should be warning kids not to draw at all. I don’t want anyone else to feel the same pain and grief and anxiety I felt after learning what I drew was harmful and illegal.

Please, be careful. Don’t let adults draw you in sexual situations. Don’t let yourself make a dumb and immature decision. Please stay safe and be careful.

So Minor Proshippers. Listen up. There’s an alternative that is safe to this called creating OC self inserts. Please use those instead to your hearts content. Make sure they don’t look like you though, and please heal.

I just feel like this needs to be specified to the MAXIMUM. I am dearly sorry to everyone who was as immature as I was, and made the same mistake. Take this as a warning, don’t learn the same way I did. Stay safe.

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Lucy decides that she and Lizzie need to talk.

Word Count: 5,007

Notes: Warnings for depictions of violence, choking (not the fun kind), pregnancy, and references to abortion.

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Chapter 20: The Moment of Catastrophe

“I need to talk to Lizzie.” She was standing in front of Tommy’s desk, eyes downcast and fingers picking at one of the little wood carvings of a horse she’d made for him. Tommy’s eyes snapped up to hers from where they had been focused on the papers she’d just deposited in front of him, capping his pen and straightening up.

“You don’t have to–”

“I sort of do. If I’m going to remain involved in all of this.” Involved with you, she added silently. “And it’s killing me not knowing what her actual feelings or intentions regarding me are.”

Tommy frowned, eyes wary. Lucy was pretty sure that the main reason why he hadn’t encouraged a sit-down between the three of them already was because he was worried about what Lizzie might say to her. 

“I’ll go with you.”

But Lucy shook her head. “I think it would be better if she and I talked alone first, actually.”

His frown deepened. “If I’m there, I can act as a buffer if she starts getting unpleasant…”

“Exactly. I need to know how she really feels, Tommy.” Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, well aware that she might be willingly walking into a lion’s den with the full expectation of getting mauled. But she couldn’t keep living in this limbo of sitting around, wondering what Lizzie really thought of her. Of what her intentions were. Everything that her mind kept coming up was horrible. At least this way, she would know for sure and could adjust accordingly. “We’re both adults. We can sit down and have a mature conversation.”

“You might be able to,” Tommy muttered. Lucy gave him a look that was intended to be stern, but failed miserably at hiding the fond amusement underneath.

“Don’t be mean.”

Tommy sighed, thumbs twiddling together before he stood, stepping around the desk to get to her. His large hands smoothed up and down her arms reassuringly. 

“Don’t let her bully you. If she starts being nasty, just leave.”

Lucy nodded. “I’ll walk over to her house after running some errands. I’ll be back before lunch.”

He touched her face, thumb running across her cheek before kissing her, then pulling her into a hug. “I love you.”

Looping her arms around his middle, she squeezed him back, letting her head nestle against his chest. “I love you too. I’ll be back soon.”

He kissed her again before letting her go, hands stuffed into his pockets and watching her grab her coat and go to the door. She offered him what she hoped to be a reassuring smile before stepping out, pulling her cap onto her head. 

The errands she needed to run seemed to pass incredibly quickly, but the walk to Lizzie’s felt as though it took an eternity. It was in a neighborhood similar to where Polly lived, on the outskirts of the city. As she walked, she smoked cigarette after cigarette, anxiety settling like rocks in her stomach. 

She had not been wholly honest about her reasoning for coming to speak with Lizzie. Yes, she did need desperately to know where Lizzie stood on everything–where she stood on her–but that wasn’t all. She supposed that a part of her almost wanted Lizzie to yell at her. To throw things at her head. To tell her that she was a selfish monster for still clinging to Tommy when she knew that if she were gone he and Lizzie could have a chance to actually build something together with their baby. 

Her own mind had been relentlessly pummeling her with those thoughts since Tommy had told her the news; might as well let the person she was actually hurting have a chance to hurl them at her herself. 

Of course there was the other part of her that clung to a small sliver of hope that it wouldn’t be that bad. That Lizzie could actually make peace with their current arrangement. Maybe even be happy to have Lucy around. 

Wishful thinking, that was. Especially that last bit. 

When Lizzie’s house came into view, her hands started to tremble, and she immediately regretted not taking Tommy up on his offer to come with her. He was more or less the only reason she’d managed not to entirely fall apart, or pack up her things and disappear into the night without a word. Without his stabilizing presence beside her, she felt terrifyingly adrift and at the mercy of her own treacherous, tortuous mind.

Her boots clomped against the stone steps, shaking fingers drawing into a fist that she tapped against the wood in a few quick raps. Stuffing her hands into her pockets in an attempt to hide their trembling, she glanced around while she waited, eyes landing on the man kneeling next to a flower bed by the steps leading to the front door. A pair of dirt-lathered gardener’s gloves covered his hands, a spade, trowel, and weeder laid out next to him on the grass. He had a hat pulled over a shaved head. His face was weathered and wrinkled with age, but there was something familiar there that she could not quite place. For a second, their eyes met, and then his gaze immediately dropped back down to the dirt in front of him, working to dig a weed out of the flowerbed. Before Lucy could scrutinize him more, the door opened.   

“Lucy.” Never before had Lizzie’s height seemed so intimidating. Her eyes were cold, jaw set.  

“Hi.” Her smile came out as more of a grimace, fingers coming together unconsciously to play with her rings. Lizzie just stared at her, expression unmovable and chilly as a glacier, mouth pressed into a firm line. Lucy forced her hands to separate, though her fingers still twitched anxiously at her sides, eyes darting around the street. “Can we talk?” 

Lizzie looked as if she found the suggestion just about as desirable as drinking spoiled milk, but after a moment of consideration sighed, and pushed the door open the rest of the way so that Lucy could come inside. 

Lizzie had clearly been hard at work decorating and furnishing the house, rugs already lining the floors, the sitting room adorned with plush couches, chairs, and carved wooden tables. Picture frames were hung up on the walls, little bits and bobs purposefully positioned on the mantle above the fireplace. 

Lizzie shut the door behind her, shoes clicking against the floorboards as she strode past her and into the sitting room. 

“What do you want?”

Off to a great start, then, Lucy thought dejectedly. “I just…thought that we should talk about…things. Just you and me.”

“I’m not getting rid of the baby,” Lizzie said immediately, head tilted up stubbornly, defensiveness straining her voice. “So if that’s what you’ve come to discuss, you might as well leave–”

“That’s not why I’m here.” She tried hard to temper her hurt that Lizzie really thought she’d come all this way just to twist her arm into getting an abortion even if she didn’t want to.

Before either of them could say anymore, there was a knock at the door. 

“For Christ’s sake,” Lizzie growled, stomping past Lucy back to the door and wrenching it open. “What?”

“Begging your pardon, Miss. Stark, but could I use your phone for a moment?” the gardener was standing there, mopping at his brow and ringing his dirty gloves in his hands. “I’d like to ring my wife to let her know I may be a little late getting home this evening.”

“Yes, yes,” Lizzie stepped aside, pointing towards the entryway to the kitchen. “It’s in the back.”

Lucy waited until he had wandered into the other room and she could hear the distant, incomprehensible hum of his voice on the phone before speaking again. “The house looks nice.”

Lizzie smirked. “Tommy paid for it.”

“I know.”

Her smile dropped, and Lucy shifted from foot to foot, aware that she was doing little to help in the mending of things between them. “Can we sit?” she asked, nodding to the couch in the sitting room. Lizzie looked like she’d rather do just about anything else, standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, lips rubbing together. But finally she sighed, arms dropping to her sides. 

“Sure.”

She followed Lizzie’s lead over to the dark green sofa, sinking down into the cushions on the opposite side from her, ample space left between them. Lucy’s hands rang together, unable to stop her fingers from fumbling with her rings. Lizzie’s expectant expression only served to make her more nervous, bubbles of anxiety lodging into her throat and making it hard for her to recall the words she’d been practicing over and over in her head on the walk over there.  

“Right. Look, I just thought…given that we’re going to be…I mean, I just wanted to tell you that, um…now that you’re having Tommy’s baby…I–”

“For fuck’s sake, will you just spit it out?”

She flinched, feeling her shoulders draw in at the way Lizzie snapped at her. Being yelled at or spoken to harshly wasn’t exactly new to her, but there was something about the impatience in Lizzie’s tone that made her feel like a young child being scolded. As if she wasn’t already doing enough damage, here she was, coming into this poor woman’s home and annoying her with nonsensical ramblings. 

Before she could stutter some more and continue to make a complete fool of herself, there was the sound of footsteps approaching from the kitchen. The gardener appeared, pulling his cap on over his bald head, giving a respectful nod to Lizzie.

“Thank you for letting me use your phone, Miss. Stark. I’ll be heading back outside, now.”

“Of course. If you need any water or anything, help yourself,” she waved a hand towards the sink and pantry in the kitchen. The gardener nodded, his eyes tracking to Lucy before quickly looking away, shuffling towards the door. They both waited until it had swung closed behind him before saying anything. 

“Look,” Lucy took a deep breath, managing to pull herself somewhat together. “I just…wanted you to know that I don’t have any intentions of coming between Tommy and the baby. And I wanted to tell you that–only if you’re comfortable with it, of course–but I’m happy to help in any way that I can.” She forced herself to meet Lizzie’s eyes. Her face was still set in a harsh frown, but some of the coldness had seeped out of her eyes before she looked down at her hands, folded carefully in her lap. “I know how Tommy can be sometimes,” Lucy continued, still keeping her gaze on Lizzie despite the other woman still staring downwards. “So if you ever…if you and the baby aren’t getting what you need from him, you’re always welcome to come to me instead. Sometimes I can be a little more successful in convincing him of things.”

Lizzie’s gaze lifted to meet hers, any warmth that had started to seep into her eyes gone, leaving nothing but cold steel in its wake. 

“If you really wanted to help, you would leave Tommy and never come back.”

Lucy’s lips parted, shrinking in on herself subconsciously. The words were hurled at her like a rock, and ready as she thought that she was to hear them, they still pierced painfully in her chest. Now it was her turn to look down, staring at the plain golden rings that encircled her fingers. She made no attempt to defend herself. No effort to argue against Lizzie’s demand. This was why she was here, right? To let Lizzie punish her for the selfish choice to still stay with Tommy. To keep him from truly having a proper family with Lizzie.

And Lizzie was correct, of course. Leaving would be the right thing to do. The less selfish action. Hell, if she left right now, she could head over to the house, pack up her things, and be on a train out of the city before the sun had even set. Yes, Tommy may be sad, at least at first. But he would get over it. With Lizzie by his side, it wouldn’t be long before he would forget that Lucy had ever even existed in the first place. 

Lucy wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could somehow hug the horrid thoughts out of her. No, no. That wasn’t true; Tommy would be distraught if she left. He wouldn’t just get over it. He loved her. He didn't want to be with Lizzie. He said…

But that one cursed phase continued to spin in her head, repeating over and over again:

But maybe if I wasn’t here…

Beside her on the couch, Lizzie shuddered, turning away, knuckles pressed to her lips, twitching and fidgeting. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” She said finally, and before Lucy could respond, she launched up out of her seat, starting to pace across the room. “It's just so unfair. I’m having his baby, and he won’t even consider…” she trailed off, shooting Lucy an ashamed look. All the venom and iciness that had been in her eyes a moment ago was gone, and for a moment, Lucy felt as though she were staring into a mirror of her own guilt and pain. Lizzie wetted her lips, shoulders lowering. “When Polly told me I was pregnant, I started to hope,” she said, finally, as if trying to offer some sort of explanation. 

“Lizzie…” Lucy started sympathetically. Her hand rested on the cushion beside her in silent invitation, and after a moment of looking her up and down warily, Lizzie shuffled back over and plopped down beside her. “You can’t force someone to love you,” Lucy said after a long pause during which she internally debated whether or not to actually speak the words. But the venom of jealousy did not return to Lizzie's face. Instead she just merely looked to the floor, expression crestfallen in a way that made Lucy’s heart hurt. 

Guilt gnawed at her like a dog with a bone, chipping away at her bit by bit. The irrational part of her still blamed herself. Still battered her with endless internal torment. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to shove away the continued mantra of: But maybe if I wasn’t here…But maybe if I wasn’t here…But maybe if I wasn’t here…

“Even if I didn’t exist, or was wiped off the face of the earth at this very second, it still might not change the way that he feels. I’m not saying that to be cruel.” Reaching out, tentatively, like she would a skittish horse, she settled her hand on top of Lizzie’s where it rested on the firm green cushion between them. “I’m saying it because if you’re only having this baby as some…attempt to force Tommy to fall in love with you, you might not get what you want. And that wouldn’t be fair to the baby. Or you. Or Tommy. But, if you do genuinely want the baby…”

“I do,” Lizzie nodded vigorously, the hand not covered by Lucy’s going to press against her still flat stomach, and Lucy could see the genuine love that crossed her face. Lizzie had always liked children. She’d always been incredibly good with Charlie, and often at family gatherings she would take time to sit and play with John’s kids.

“Okay,” Lucy said. “Then we’ll figure out some way to make this all work. I know that Tommy is dedicated to supporting both of you, and will want to be involved in their life as much as he can. And I…” it felt impossibly selfish for her to ask what she was about to, but she forced herself to ask anyway. The worst that Lizzie could say was no, after all. “I’d like to be involved too, at least just a little. But I can understand if you don’t want that and I can keep my distance, if you’d rather. I don’t have any intentions of trying to…take away or usurp your position as the baby’s mother. I just want to help.”      

Lizzie’s head tilted slightly, considering with her eyes focused faraway on the opposite wall. “I suppose…I suppose that would be fine. Tommy will insist on you being around anyway.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to include me if you’d really rather not,” it would hurt. A lot. But she didn’t want to force Lizzie into anything, either. “It’s your choice who helps you to raise your baby.”

“Yes, but it’s his too, isn’t it? He’ll want you included,” she shrugged. “I suppose that I could use as much help as I can get.” She finally looked back at Lucy. “And you’ve always been so good with Charlie.”

It was Lucy’s turn to look away then, bashfully staring down at her shoes. Beside her, Lizzie shifted, and when she spoke again, some of the bitterness had returned to her voice. 

“He loves you so much.”

Lucy felt her brows pull together slightly, her guard, that she’d dropped as Lizzie’s iciness had thawed, cautiously starting to raise back up. When she lifted her head, Lizzie was looking away from her again. 

“I suggested that he split up with you, did you know that? When I told him about the baby. And he wouldn’t even consider it. Not even for a second.” Her gaze shifted back to Lucy. “It’s hard not to hate you for that.”

Lucy pulled her hands back, settling them in her lap so that she could unconsciously fiddle with her rings again. “I’m sorry–”   

“No; don’t apologize. It’s,” Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s not your fault,” she opened them again. “It’s my problem. And I am trying not to hold it against you. I promise I am.” She gave her a small, humorless smile. “I was doing pretty well at it until that day by the canal.”

“It was so selfish of us to take you down there. I’m sorry. We weren’t thinking.”

“Neither was I.”

Lucy nodded, fingers flexing. “I mean it, you know. Tell me if there’s anything that you need from either of us, and I’ll do what I can,” her shoulders raised in a tiny shrug. “The three of us are in this together, now.”

“Thank you.” Lizzie murmured. “I appreciate that. Really. It’s just so,” she hesitated, searching for the word, and finally simply settled on, “hard.”

Lucy nodded. Outside, she could hear the sounds of cars. “It’s difficult for me too.”

Lizzie shot her a quizzical look, and Lucy squirmed in her seat uncomfortably. 

“I can’t have children,” she explained in a soft voice, hoping that would be enough clarification as to what she meant. Lizzie’s eyes widened. 

“Really?”

Lucy nodded. Lizzie’s brows pinched, pale hand reaching out to rest her long fingers on her knee. 

“I’m sorry.”

Lucy just shrugged. “I’ve mostly made peace with it, I think.”

“I always wondered why you and Tommy didn’t have any of your own.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why.” It certainly wasn’t for lack of trying. She had made a half joke, many years ago, that if there was a way for her to get pregnant, Tommy surely would have figured it out by now.  

She looked back at Lizzie. I suppose we both have something that the other wants, then.

The clock on the wall chimed, and when she looked in its direction, it was to find that far more time had passed while talking to Lizzie than she’d thought. 

“I, um, I should get going. I promised Tommy I would be back at the office before lunch.”

“Right,” Lizzie withdrew her hand from her knee and sighed. “I don’t suppose you have any idea when this mess with the Italians will all be over, do you?”

“Soon, I think.” I hope, she corrected. 

“Have you beheaded any more Italians lately?”

Lucy felt a tiny smile prick at the edges of her lips. “Not yet.”

One side of Lizzie’s lips quirked upwards. “Personal feelings about you aside, I am glad that my baby will have you to be there for them.”

A rush of emotion washed over Lucy at that, looking away with a small smile as they both stood. Fumbling with her rings one last time before letting her hands drop to her sides, she raised her head to look up at Lizzie. “Thank you for letting me be involved. Really. It means a lot.” 

Lizzie nodded, and walked her to the door. 

“I’ll talk to you later?” Lucy asked, a teeny, tiny bead of hope, that maybe the friendship they’d been on their way to building before this whole mess had blown up in their faces could be salvaged, had begun to bloom despite her attempts to temper it. 

“Yeah,” Lizzie nodded. “Take care of yourself.”

“You too.” Pulling her cap out of her pocket, she reached for the door handle and twisted it open. 

She barely had time to process the towering, dark suit-clad figure standing on the other side of it, or the cocked hat on his head and the toothpick wedged between his teeth, before a hand, fingers adorned with rings, crashed in a vicious backhand across her face. The side of her head slammed hard into the doorframe, and she went sprawling to the ground, dazed, black spots appearing across her vision. Somewhere behind her, she heard Lizzie scream. 

She hardly was able to make out the figure of Luca Changretta, still looming over her in the doorway, before his booted foot swung into her face, and everything went dark. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Lizzie braced a hand on the wall of the narrow hallway leading from the front door into the sitting room, staring in open-mounted horror at where Lucy lay in a crumpled, unmoving heap in the entryway. Luca stared down at the little redhead for a moment, checking to make sure that she was truly unconscious, before he lifted his head, and met Lizzie’s eyes with a huge, face splitting grin. 

“Hello, Lizzie.” 

There were three men crowded in behind him, and behind his elbow, she spotted the face of her gardener peering in at her. 

The phone call. She only vaguely could recall him coming in, the hum of his voice from the kitchen while she was busy with Lucy in the sitting room. Oh, God… 

Staggering back a few steps, she turned to run towards the backdoor, but only got so far as the sitting room before skidding to a halt at the crunch of wood splintering as the door was kicked in, two Italians shouldering past the wrecked wood to block her way out. 

“Get that to the car,” Luca snapped his fingers, nodding at Lucy. “And don’t forget to bind her hands and feet. I want one of you watching her at all times in case she wakes up.” 

“No–” Lizzie took a step forward, as if there was anything she could possibly do to stop them. Luca’s gaze shot back up to her, and with another grin, he stepped over Lucy while the men behind him grabbed her by the shoulders and started to drag her away.

“How lucky for you that she was the one who opened the door,” he started conversationally. Lizzie’s hands were shaking, her knees unsteady. Luca took an advancing step closer, fully entering the sitting room, and Lizzie took another back in response, keeping ample space between. Luca seemed unbothered by the action. 

“It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance. My brother was so taken with you, he wrote about you often enough in his letters to me, I feel like I almost know you myself.” The sparkle of taunting glee was still in his eyes, but underneath, Lizzie saw fiery rage. “You do remember my little brother, don’t you, Lizzie?” 

The mention of Angel was enough to make her stomach turn with guilt. Poor, poor Angel. She’d been trying to get over Tommy, since at the time he’d been engaged to Grace and happy with his newborn boy. And Angel had been there, this sweet Italian boy who doted on her, and who she had genuinely thought that she’d started to love. 

But not enough. Not enough for her to quit her job with the Shelbys so that they could be together. Not enough to keep her from breaking up with him when tensions rose between the two families. Not enough for her to mourn all that long after John and Arthur slit his throat. Not enough for her to stop working for his killers. Not enough to say no when Tommy and Lucy had started coming to her again for sex. 

“Yes. Yes, of course I remember Angel. I’m so sorry about what happened–”

Luca continued to grin, but his eyes were deep dark pits of hate. “And yet, you’ve had no problem running around with the men who killed him.” He took another step closer. 

She was shaking like a leaf and didn’t know how to stop. Tears started to roll down her cheeks. “I’m sorry–” she tried again.

Like a jaguar, Luca suddenly lunged at her with inhuman speed. His hand latched onto her throat, her back slamming into the wall hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs, and immediate panic zigzagged through her. 

No, no, not my baby. Please don’t hurt my baby.

“I don’t want to hear your fucking apologies!” he roared in her face, hot breath fanning across her cheeks. “I want my fucking family back!”

“Please,” she managed to catch her breath enough to be able to speak, but his hand was tight enough around her throat that it made drawing in air difficult. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“Mr. Changretta.” It was her gardener, hovering by the sofa, clutching his dirty gloves. Luca growled in annoyance, fingers flexing against Lizzie’s throat. 

“Matteo, get this man paid and out of here–”

“Mr. Changretta, she’s pregnant,” the gardener interpreted. “I heard Winters say something about it.”

Luca froze, his eyes shifting back to Lizzie, like a shark that had just caught the scent of blood in the water. His jaw twitched, teeth grinding together. She could see something click behind his eyes, and her terror tripled. 

“Whose?” he asked, grip tightening around her neck. If she made it out of this alive, she would for certain have bruises all up and down the column of her pale throat. 

“Please…” she sobbed. 

“Tommy Shelby bought you this fucking house…” Luca’s eyes swept across the sitting room. “Despite you recently leaving his employment.”

“I’m sorry–”

“Is it his!?”

He’s going to kill me, she thought, panic intensifying. “Yes,” she whispered, tears still rolling down her cheeks.

Luca laughed, and it was the worst sound Lizzie had ever heard. “Well, well. How nice that is for you. Congratulations,” his words dripped with sarcasm and venom. “Still a whore, I see. No matter what you prefer to fancy yourself as these days.” He looked over his shoulder, towards the front door where his men had taken Lucy out to where Lizzie had to presume the car was. His face swung back around to hers. “Does Winters know? Is that why she came here?”

Lizzie just whimpered, pressing her lips together. His fingers were digging so hard against her windpipe that she doubted she could have spoken if she’d wanted to. Luca’s face contracted, smile dropping way to a look of pure hatred, his hands squeezed hard enough to completely cut off any more oxygen, and Lizzie let out a soft choking sound. But a moment later, he let her go, and her head fell forward as she coughed and wheezed, lungs expanding as she hastily sucked in air. Luce seized her by the cheeks instead, tilting her head up until the back of her skull rested against the wall. 

“Hm…in light of this…new information, I’m going to change my plans for you. You see, I was planning to let my boys here,” he nodded to the men guarding the back exit, “smack you around a little. I would like to kill you for this. And maybe someday I will.” He leaned forward, until their noses were almost touching. “After Mr. Shelby is dead. Maybe I’ll kill you and your child. Maybe I’ll kill you and take the child into my family.” He shrugged. “I suppose that we’ll just have to wait and see.” 

Lizzie felt a burst of frantic protectiveness for the tiny life growing inside of her, manifesting itself in a ferocious glare that made Luca chuckle. 

“But not today. I made a deal, you see, with Mr. Shelby, not to harm any children. Vile as his spawn may be. Our people have traditions of honor. I’d hate for him to think that I’d gone back on my word.” His face retreated from hers, though his hand remained, squeezing crushingly at her cheeks, pushing her head painfully against the wall. “As for Miss. Winters, she’s coming with us. She and I have unfinished business. You can tell Tommy that we took her. Or not.”

Lizzie’s eyes widened at the suggestion; at the choice he was offering her. 

“The decision is yours. Either way,” Luca shrugged, “he won’t be able to find her until it’s too late.” He laughed. “Really, you should be thanking me. Seems like by getting rid of her, I may be solving a very irksome problem for you.”

When she said and did nothing, his smile fell, and he leaned in close again, speaking in a hoarse, hissing whisper.

“Remember, once all the Shelbys are gone, I’ll be coming for you.” His hand dropped suddenly away, her head falling forward and away from the wall in surprise at no longer having his palm holding her in place. 

“Please, don’t–” she started to beg. But Luca’s hand snapped forward, smashing the back of her head brutally against the wall, and the world fell away to blackness. 

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[pyfsan]

Law of Return

pairing: jake x reader

You cannot let go of your stupid high school crush after seeing him again at a Reunion Party, so you take your last shot.

Smut MDNI

warnings: fingering, public space sex (no one sees thou) mild humiliation, reader is kind of a brat. there's not much to warn on this one.

wc: 945

note: english is not my first language, there'll be gammar issues

smut under the cut

So what that you have had a enormous crush for this guy and got rejected years ago? So what that now, without any self preservation, you where trying to hit on him again on this stupid class reunion? You feel pathetic, you even sound pathetic in your head when you try to argument with yourself... but you have no reason to go home without at least trying something. People around you were already tipsy, you've seen some bodies here and there already hooking up... it was nothing serious.

Plus you bet that Jake himself was not against casual hookups too. Before when you confessed to him on the hallway of your high school everything was different... he was a committed student and you had horrendous braces. Now your teeth were perfect. Now jake was an adult.

So yes, you were hitting on him tonight and for your liking... yes, jake was very positive about casual hookups. Cause it took you few words exchanged, some glances to his lips and a small fix on your boobs inside your tight top for him to just start following you around with his eyes. And now you are sitting on his lap inside a cabin on the women's bathroom, fighting against every piece of clothe on your bodies just to feel an inch of each other's skin.

His mouth is way softer that you could ever imagine, his hands can pull you even closer to him that you could have ever wished for. This was absolutely insane. Jake humms against your lips as he kisses you, his body rocking back and forth making you grind on his hard clothed cock. You feel dizzy with every thrust, your core getting hotter and hotter as time goes by. He gets his cold hands inside your top and pinches your sensitive nipples, making you moan on his mouth. Jake smile middle kiss proud of his effect.

"Are you letting me finger you or did you bring me here just to kiss me without anyone seeing?" He asks as he buries his face on the curve of your neck, sucking your skin.

"Get your hand inside my pants, then" you say with a mischievous grin, grabbing his hair hard enough so that his head is lifted to face you. He smiles even bigger than you, running his right hand down your belly and inside your shorts. You hold your breath the second he touchs your heated core, your pussy clenching on nothing.

"So wet for me already, hm?" Jake coos at you, pressing his now wet finger on your clit. You nod your head and it makes him smile again. "Want to get yourself off on my hand?" You nod again, panting. It makes him go back to kissing you, so extra horny that he has to use all his control to not start chewing on your mouth, his hand working you up second by second.

You start moaning and he haven't even put a finger inside you yet. So when you start bucking your hips to increase the sensation,  he slips two fingers deep in your pussy. You grab his shoulders so tight that your nails will surely leave marks, but jake doesn't seem to bother when you look at him.

"You've always wanted this, don't you?" He smirks and you swallow hard with his words "did you kept thinking about me all those years that you just had to try to fuck me anyway?" jake keeps talking, a fake ass comforting sound in his voice. It made you so embarrassed the way he was looking at you, pouted lips and shining eyes. "Will you keep thinking of this later, hm?" He coos again.

Your moan gets out sounding almost like a cry after that. It was humiliating yet you are so fucking wet that every move his fingers make just keeps getting you closer to the edge and every word he says makes you hotter.

"Don't act like you weren't hard the second you saw my boobs" you point back and it makes him chuckle, loving your attitude.

"Yeah, babe? what you're gonna do about it?" The point of his fingers rasping right there in the right spot inside you. You're panting again causing him to increase his pace.

"Make me cum first then we see" you say struggling a little to sound more than a pathetic whimper, but you make it anyway.

Jake takes the challenge right away and focus on his moves, getting you closer to orgasm faster and faster. You can feel your walls clenching around him and your body is starting to tremble. He even uses his free hand to hold you in place so you won't fall. You rock your hips chasing your high and he presses his finger again on your clit, pulling you to the edge. You cum so good on his hand that your vision goes shut for a second.

"That's it, cream on my hand like you always wanted" you feel a soothing caressing on your back as he tells you the most humiliating thing he could possibly do now.

"You're so not getting that dick wet if you keep bragging about this story to my face" you roll back your eyes but jake just laughs.

"You're not that cruel..." he pulls his fingers out of you "wait. You're not that cruel, right?" He looks at you again, worried eyes on you.

"I don't know, jake" then you start to get up from his lap. "I'll give you my number and think a little about it... you can try again later" you smile kindly as you fix your clothes leaving him speechless.

[shannonsketches]

[samarecharm]

geniunely not trying to put words in ur mouth im geniunely asking: what do you actually like about persona 5? from all ur rants im just wondering why you didnt drop the game bc it seems (again, im not trying to put words in ur mouth) that it simply not for you? i geniunely have not felt any of the issues you bring up outside of the writing ones and i cannot tell if i'm just easily pleased and not good at discerning what a good game is or we simply have dif things we enjoy in a video game. i hate getting tone across text but im asking out of geniune curiosity im not trying to attack your opinion (;-;)

Nah, i dont feel like ur attacking me, and I hope u dont feel the same when u see my complaints! Lmao. In my defense, I am replaying the game for the first time after completing my first file back in 2020, so alot of the faults i kinda shrugged off in my first playthrough are now glaringly in my face now that I no longer have the confusion and interest in learning the main story to keep me occupied. The game is clunky all the way through, and at some times, even frustratingly so.

But despite that, i do like this game. Alot! Its probably one of my top games ever if im being honest!

This ended up way longer than I intended, so im putting it under a readmore to keep the post short on dashboards

If i had to describe what I liked about the game in the simplest way imaginable…I think I would say, I like how the game makes me feel :) I like the music. I like the vibe. I like the immersion from city to city, and I like the premise! I like the characters and I like the connections you make with these characters! As im replaying this game, i am most excited to see Akira and his comments about the world :) i like hearing everyones voices, I like their little interactions in Mementos, and I like seeing them fight!

P5 is the first game I played in the series; its the game that introduced me to SMT in the first place! And it (smt) is a series that my longtime best friend LOVES and never thought hed be able to share with me! It is a game i keep very near to my heart; it has influenced me in ways i did not think would happen in the short couple of years since i first finished it. It genuinely keeps me awake some nights thinking about the world this game has created, and I think that is a testament to the impact its had, be it good or bad.

The joke about wishing theyd make a persona game that was Good is that despite all of its numerous flaws, the games manage to snatch your attention and pull you in anyway. Imagine if they made a game that had all of those things that i mentioned I loved, but done Right and executed Properly?? Where I got to have a story that made sense and didnt need to be spoonfed to me (in like an HOUR of dialogue and scenes; an HOUR!), and characters that talked and bonded beyond the tiny snippets of interaction theyre allowed to have in mementos? Combat that let me use PERSONAS i liked instead of BUILDS that stop me from getting instakilled throughout the entirety of the endgame, and a Persona building mechanic that didnt feel like I was shooting in the dark looking for possible fusions that end up not even being useful in the endgame.

Ive mentioned it before, but I complain so much bc I have seen what a good p5 game looks like, and its Strikers almost to a T. Combat is still your typical warriors-esque style combat, but it is at least different from the turn based strategy of the main game. Characters talk to each other freely, they hang out and comfort each other in a way that feels more connected that the base game. Strikers implements the ability to see ALL possible fusions with ALL registered personas, not just the ones in your Stock, so you can fuse easily without having yo consult a guide. The story feels like it makes SENSE with antagonists that feel morally grey and sympathetic. Genuinely, alot of the complaints for p5 I had were almost immediately rectified in this game.

But please also know that the praises I sing for this game is only bc of the groundwork laid by p5 and the world it created. Thats what I like about this game, that it had such a captivating premise and cast of characters, that a DIFFERENT company was able to hit the ground running with them. P5 had alot happening in that game, but i think what it had most was potential. The effort put into this game is astronomical, and the possible connections you can outright MISS if u arent paying attention was worth the money and time to implement; even if it meant that it could be considered a waste of resources to higher ups.

Books and games and part time jobs???!! Silly little cutscenes that add nothing to the game PLOTwise, but define and flesh out the personality of your protagonist. There was alot of love put into this game, and its evident by the fact that we have NOT seen a new persona game released; they bank on existing titles bc they are unwilling to make a game like this from scratch again. They dont want to ‘waste’ resources on good voice acting and a complex, overarching story; they dont want to waste money on scenes a player may never see, on routes a player may never get to experience. Making a game that gives u even the slightest bit of freedom means more money in programming and detailing that freedom. This has been an issue for a WHILE, and its a miracle that the gaming landscape had space for a colossal title like p5!

I complain bc I want better, and I do not think that is inherently at odds with my love of this game. In b4 im told to get good; ive played on hard and tested out merciless (its NOT fun, im making godbuilds again and its boring 😞). Its not the most accessible turnbased rpg; theres no colorblind modes, and the affinity system is convoluted and overwhelming. Combo moves are hard to keep track of and it can be incredibly frustrating to see your turns being skipped or seeing characters take extreme technical damage without understanding WHY it happened. The fact that they KNEW the game was desperate for qol improvements by the time royal came out, and instead of updating the base game to have those improvements too, they just pushed the royal edition out for people to play instead. It sucks! Customers and fans deserve better than being forced to shell out money for a game they already played !

As the gaming climate gets more and more hostile and unbearable, I think it is good to look at your games critically, and understand why products come out subpar. Persona 5 is a fun game that has a nice cast and an interesting premise, but it is ultimately tied down by its refusal to build on existing building blocks regarding its combat, and it insists on having insulting and downright out of character dialogue and scenes to appease the audience its designed to be targeted to. It is easy to forget sometimes that queer ppl are infact NOT the prime target of these games, its cishet gamer bros from aged 16 to 40 who will laugh at homophobic comments, who drool over a 16 yr old girl with a 16 yr old mindset and a grown womans body, who need to be placated with constant sexual comments to deal with a convoluted story that will inevitably make zero sense until its laid out for you before the literal end of the game.

Its bad. Its good. Its so shallow and its unbelievable that they thought having the plot twist make ZERO sense until they showed CUTSCENES of YOUR character discussing Goro and his connections to the metaverse for endgame SHOCK VALUE was more important than just having your team be smart and piece it together over time. Its shit. Its literally amazing. It let you FUCK your teacher ??????????????what the FUCK. They also let me shoot a god in the face w the best looking ult persona in the world so i can ignore that shit. And ultimately that is how i got through the game. Lol.

[mochasucculent]

Kinda weird but this is still like one of my fave things I've ever drawn lol, it's just a background study from Shawn James' cover of Arkansas by Damien Jurado (there was a character here too once iykyk lol) but I was Going Through It at the time and painting this was soooo cathartic

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

the higher-ups (and Yaga) immediately trying to leverage Gojo & Ieri's absence to put Yuuta on the roster??? God that's such a stark moment. Thank god Nanami and Gojo saw through that one immediately, because Yuuta wants to justify his own survival so badly he would've fallen straight into it.

That whole scene, with Yuuta immediately jumping on the opportunity to help people even though something is Extremely Wrong with him and he's on the brink of physical collapse--this boy is selfless to the point of self destruction and I am chewing the drywall about it. I love him so much.

If only he was able to summon his newly found homicidal rage in defense of himself, the higher-ups would no longer be a problem. Alas, this boy is Extremely Unwell.

(Sea Glass Gardens is absolutely incredible and i am obsessed with it in a way that is totally and 100% normal. I'm so normal about it, trust me <3 )

The thing about Yuuta is that he really is prime to be taken advantage of right now and the higher ups know it. They had him try to kill himself for them--they know that there's a window of opportunity that they can use to get him under their thumb and avoid The Problem of Gojo, which is, namely, having a human weapon who you cannot fully control. Gojo nailed it from the beginning: they want a magic gatling gun with no personality or free will. They learned their lesson with Gojo and are trying to rob Yuuta of his agency before he learns how to protect himself.

And Yaga's part in that scene really was meant to kind of emphasize how, even with the best intention's, he just doesn't work to protect the kids. Like. everything he said was technically true, and he meant it with the best of intentions. He's the guy who has to think of everyone's needs. he has to manage this crisis. he's got a lot of people hurt badly who just came out of a war, and a lot of people going into fights with some very aggravated curses spawning without sufficient manpower to address the danger and no healer to save them if they cut it a little too close. He didn't have the intention of manipulating or sacrificing Yuuta, but he was aware that it would come to his detriment and risk.

The issue is the higher ups. They don't give a shit about the people in their workforce. They should be the ones doing whatever it takes to solve this crisis and save their people--and if that means giving up on their machinations? They should have already done it. It's their responsibility.

They just don't care. They want Okkotsu Yuuta under their thumb, and their society hemorrhaging is treated like an opportunity, not a dire problem to be solved. They don't care if half a dozen of their own people need to die to do it. Hell, it's better if they do die--they can put it straight on Okkotsu for not being willing to sacrifice himself, when they should have been making whatever promises they had to in order to make this work.

Gojo's done this before, is the thing. He was Yuuta, a long time ago. Nanami was right there watching it happen. They both know what the higher ups do: They let society get to a crisis level and put all the responsibility on you to save it. they let you maneuver yourself into a vulnerable position as a result, and then they use it as leverage to put their goddamn boot on your neck.

The thing is that Gojo adopting megumi all those years ago really did put them into a crisis state. the zenin pitched the mother of all bitch fits trying to secure his unconditional return, and they were a huge percentage of jujutsu society's labor force and resource pools. instead of the higher ups managing the problem at all, they took advantage of the situation and shoved more and more of its weight and responsibility onto gojo, until he was dropping off his own kid at his abusers' compound thinking it was the only compromise that could resolve things. megumi paid the price for gojo not calling bullshit, and right now, with him in a hospital bed? gojo's less willing to repeat mistakes than ever.

he knows that they're going to use the safety and suffering of everyone else as the leverage against him, and he knows that as terrible as it is, he cannot blink first. He's played this game before, and he knows that the only way to get the higher ups to back off on something like this is to dig in your heels.

I think what happened to Megumi all those years ago and how bad it got before they put a stop to it is something that haunts all three of them. When they first started raising him, they were very young, and they were very broken, and they loved him very, very much. He was their little boy, and he was never the same after the Zenin. They were supposed to protect him, and they didn't, and not a single one of them has forgiven themselves for that.

Megumi was sort of sacrificed for the greater good when he was a kid. None of them thought that that was what they were doing when it happened, but that's what happened. His happiness, safety, and wellbeing were sacrificed to pacify the Zenin and make it easier on everyone else.

Megumi and Tsumiki had to become their non-negotiables after. They had to become the things they refused to compromise on. The Zenin would take miles and miles if you gave them a millimeter, let alone an inch.

Gojo didn't think he was compromising them when he left them on their own to deal with Geto's war. They were disgustingly self-sufficient kids. They had been alone for longer stretches of time when they were practically toddlers--they should have been fine on their own for a couple of weeks.

But they were still his kids, and he still left them alone for everyone else's sake, and now his kid is blind and half dead in a hospital bed. It's like being punched in the face by old mistakes.

So they're off the roster completely, all of them. And they're not compromising an inch on what their focus is, and they're not letting anything happen to any of the other kids in their care.

It's terrible that their coworkers are suffering, but it wouldn't be happening if the Zenin hadn't fucked with Gojo Satoru's kid, of all the goddamn people. It wouldn't be happening if the higher ups would actually do their job and start managing shit.

And if they use Yuuta as an anxiety riddled bandaid on the bullet hole in their society? Then they'd be sacrificing him the way they sacrificed Megumi all those years ago. And they have never been less willing to do that.

I'm so so glad you like the story! Thank you for talking with me!

[hella1975]

so it turns out it was actually never that serious

[angelstrawbabie420]

felt

[bixiaoshi]