#it’s fine though i’m not mad i’ve never been mad in my life

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

Thanks for the tag @nerdieforpedro! Figured I would participate and share a snippet of Closed Position since it's taking me FOREVER with the next chapter. I promise y'all, I'm working on it. It's about halfway done as we speak.

We get a little (a lot) of drama in this chapter. Enjoy. 😏

💜Mysty

“Dieter…have I done something to make you mad at me? I just feel like you’ve been closed off toward me the last couple of days.”  I sighed, “Mad…no. I could never be mad at you.”  Her brow furrowed, “There is something though, right? What is it?” I gave her a tight smile, “You really wanna talk about this right now? I’m sure I don’t have to tell you.”  She shook her head, “No, I wanna hear it. Say what you have to.”  I blew air out through my cheeks, “Fine. I’m not mad, I’m disappointed.”  Anger briefly flashed in her eyes, “Why?” I scoffed, “You really have to ask? That asshole physically assaulted you and treats you like shit. I’ve had people like that in my life and I know what they’re capable of. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want you to get hurt…because believe it or not, I do actually care about your wellbeing.”  Her eyes widened, “Is that the only reason?” What exactly is she asking me? The question took me by surprise and I didn’t really know how to answer it. No, it’s not, but I can’t say that. I stared at her wide-eyed, “D-Do I really need another reason? Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean I have to like him or approve of it. You're my only concern in this. He can fuck off.”

NPT: @trulybetty @lady-bess @avastrasposts @for-a-longlongtime @frenchiereading

CP Tags: @titlee78 @legendary-pink-dot  @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs  @harriedandharassed

@hisandsnakes  @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing  @runningmom94  @sin-djarin

@cakipy-blog  @missladym1981  @guelyury  @weho2kcmo  @alokaerza  

@girlofchaos  @trulybetty  @rhoorl  @bitchwitch1981  @madnessofadaydreamer

@darkheartgatita  @jazzloveslatte  @timpletance  @musings-of-a-rose  @samiamproductions

@myloveistoolittle  @for-a-longlongtime   @copperhalfcent  @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter

@burntheedges  @stevie75  @bunniboo0015  @quicax3  @jackie923

@sherala007  @pastelnap  @angelofsmalldeath-codeine  @jessthebaker  @rebel-held

@gwendibleywrites  @senorabond  @annalovesflorida  @sandaltoesocks  @katw474

[honeysweetcorvidae]

if you draw joker and akechi with their canonical height difference i am kissing you on the lips

[cloudywriting05]

one of your girls. — coriolanus snow.

we dont gotta be in love, no. i don’t gotta be the one, no. i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

part two published, read here.

cw: dom!coryo, p in v, Bondage, vulgar language, pain during sex, daddy kink, slight sadism(?), 18+, slight non-con, etc

words: 3048 [good, GOD], MAY be grammar errors.

tags: @euphemiaamillais my lovely lady.

“Hey, Snow.” 

The blonde boy snapped his head at you, a stern look plastered to his face. You watched his eyes travel up and down your figure, his expression softened as a small smile crept on his face. He turned his body to face you and sighed.

You and Coriolanus’s relationship was unique, to say the least. You’ve known each other your entire life but dedicated your every day to one-upping each other. Your decade-long academic rivalry with him was something you found deeply annoying, and you knew if he wasn’t as attractive as he was, you would’ve killed him by now. Coriolanus found the rivalry thrilling. Watching you stress and work out to get the best grade was entertaining for him. On the days he was lucky, you would be in the library at the same time as him, searching for textbooks to grab before the other could. The number of times he caught himself peering down at your small figure, bent over, frantically digging through piles of chemistry books was criminal. 

The new school year had just begun, and you were instantly bombarded with strange rumours. Rumours about Coriolanus, more specifically, his dick. He’d allegedly slept with half of the grade’s female population, including your own friends. You rebuffed them initially, that was until you overheard the said ‘girls’ discussing it, confirming it all. You were annoyed, absolutely livid at the thought of Coriolanus sleeping with them. Why did he leave you out? Was this something else he was showing you that you could never get? Whatever he was doing was working. Fucking your entire friend group but purposely dodging you was a smart move on his behalf. But you were never a loser, never second place.

So here it brought you. Standing in front of your arch nemesis with your arms crossed. 

“Could I help you, gorgeous?” he purred, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’re a slut, Snow. Fucking all my friends is pretty corny, don’t you think?” you remarked, running a finger down the locker beside him. 

He looked at you, guilt written across his face. “I’m not a slut, little girl. And who told you that?” 

“Everyone. Everyone is talking about you and your dick, Coriolanus.”

“I got busy over the holidays. Who knew Academy girls could be so desperate for my dick?” he sneered, smiling to himself. 

“So why did you do it?” 

“Do what?” he asked, puzzled.

“Fuck everyone but me? Were you trying to tick me off? If so, it worked, Snow.”

He let out a laugh, completely bewildered. “Are you high? What are you trying to get at?”

“Did I stutter? You fucked every girl in my friend group but me, even though I should’ve been the first. Now, because you decided to fucking skip me, I have to hear about how freaky you are, or how big your dick is all day!” you blurted, your frustration getting by the absolute best of you as his nonchalant demeanor sent you over the edge. 

“So, let me get this straight; you’re angry at me because I didn’t fuck you?” he questioned, eyes wide, trying to comprehend what was coming out of your mouth.

You stuttered for a second. “Yes, yes I am.”

“We played sandbox together and here you are now, in this empty hallway, begging me to fuck you,” he said as he fixed his uniform.

“Oh, so you don’t wanna fuck me?” you purred, your arms crossed, looking up at him. 

“Just to piss you off, no I don’t. Doesn’t matter how hot I think you are, or how long I’ve wanted to for this to happen. I like seeing you mad.” he smiled, knowing he had ticked you off. “I’ll see you in bio, little girl.”

He spoke as he walked away. Your eyes twitched in anger; Snow could not win. Not today. 

“Fine, I’ll just ask Plinth!” your words stopped him right in his tracks.

He turned and stalked towards you, stopping only a few inches in front of you. He glared down into your eyes. “If you fuck Sejanus, I’ll kill you both and make it look like an accident.” 

You scoffed. “Would you, actually? I don’t know. All I know is that I want you at my house by eleven thirty. If you’re as good as one of the girls was vouching you were, then prove it. Or I’ll get one of your friends to, just to make it even.”

“You win, I’ll see you there, doll.”

It was eleven-twenty on the dot and there was still no sign of Coriolanus. You’d pondered about the interaction from today for hours, worried you came off too demanding. You thought to yourself for a while that he was going you stand you up and purposely not come, that would’ve sent you over the edge. You sat on your bed, every negative thought running through your head. Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of frantic knocking. 

You rushed downstairs and stood in front of the door. “Who is it?”

“Is that a joke?” Coriolanus spoke from the other side of the door. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’m freezing.” 

You flung the door open, Coriolanus stood there, a smile plastered to his face. He sported a worn-out shirt that was fitted, hugging his chest. He paired it with pajama pants with a red pattern and slides that looked like they should’ve never left his house. He walked right past you into your home. “You look like you’re about to go to sleep, couldn’t dress sexier?” 

“I mean it’s gonna come right off, isn’t it?”

“Whatever, my room is upstairs and the first to your right.” 

“Perfect.” 

You watched the boy jog up the stairs and disappear behind the wall, following him shortly after. 

You entered the room to him sitting on the bed, using his arms to sit up behind him. You closed the door behind you without breaking eye contact. You could physically feel the tension in the room, his entire demeanor shifting from minutes ago. You felt almost chilled. 

He lifted himself from the edge of your bed and walked towards you, stopping himself only when his face was inches from yours. “Did one of the girls ever tell you what I did to them?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think.”

“I’ll have to show you, won't I?” he purred, his hand traveling up from your side to your chin.

“Yeah, I guess.” 

His hand landed on your cheek, taking you by surprise. You gasped as his hand returned to your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Stupid girl. You wanted me to treat you like your friends, right? They didn’t talk, so why should you?”

You should’ve walked away; you should’ve told him to get out. The boy who defined your entire academy life just slapped you in the face and degraded you, yet your entire body yearned for his touch. You stared into his eyes, they were glistening, wild with power and lust. His blonde hair dimly lit by the streetlight peering through your window into your dark, cold room. You needed to get even; you needed him to fuck you to get even. You needed him inside of you and in that moment, you didn’t care if it was the last thing you did that night. 

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, now,” he demanded, his grip on your chin tightening as he forced you to look up at him, helpless.

You shook under his touch, completely powerless. “I- I want you to fuck me, Coryo.”

He lowered his head, resting his lips against your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine and straight to your heat. “Say it louder, so everyone in the Capitol knows how much of a dumb, little slut you are for me. Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me because I’m a slut... for you.” you proclaimed, your voice projected as he breathed against your cheek, his grip on your chin still tight.

“Pathetic, but good enough,” he replied, he released your chin and moved himself away from you slightly. “Get on the bed and strip for me, now.”

You nodded dumbly, crawling onto the bed. You lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it on the ground beside you, removing your pants and underwear right after. You sat there idly, completely bare, whilst a clothed Coriolanus stood in front of you, fucking you with his gaze. His eyes traveled up and down your frame, admiring you.

He raised a hand and began to caress your cheek; you instinctively nuzzled your face into his palm causing him to softly laugh. “The smartest and prettiest girl in the academy, sitting naked waiting for me to fuck her like a good girl.”

He looked down on you, you were naked and nuzzling your face into his palm, inaudibly begging him to fuck you. You were desperate and it turned him on so much. The most stubborn girl he fawned over for years now naked and begging him to fuck her. He could feel his dick trying to break free from his pants just from the sight of you.

He walked away and disappeared into your open closet, leaving you clueless. He walked out with a ribbon in his hand.

“That’s my grandma's, Coryo. That’s the ribbon she gifted me. What do you need it for?” you questioned, puzzled.

“Put your back against your bed frame and stop asking me stupid questions. Sluts with dirty mouths like you, my dear, don’t get to talk.” 

You followed his command and shuffled up until your bare back was against the headboard, waiting patiently for his next command. You were the smartest girl at your academy yet there you were, brainlessly waiting for Snow to tell you what to do. 

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for your hand. “Give me your hands, doll.” 

You timidly raised your hand towards him. He grabbed your wrist and began to firmly tie the piece of ribbon around them, causing you to wince slightly. The thin material pressed against your skin as you looked at him, hopeless. There he had you. Your wrists tied, naked. Your knees spread exposing you. 

He took his time once again, admiring your small, fragile frame. “You look so gorgeous, let daddy see what’s between your legs better, okay?”

You nodded and spread your knees apart more, fully exposing your heat to the boy. He hovered over you, staring down at your pussy, glistening with juices. He used his hands to turn you over on your knees, your hands still restrained, using your elbows for support. 

“How many times did you speak to that bitch this week?” he inquired from behind you.

“Who? Sejanus? … Maybe three or four times, I’m not too sure–”

“Too many times. Way too many fucking times.”

You felt a hard hand land against your cheek, your back curled in pain as you threw your head between your hands. It was followed by another, causing you to cry out in pain. He slapped your ass again, and then once more. Painful groans escaped your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain.

“Four slaps for four conversations. Turn over and spread your legs a bit more for me, okay?” 

You dumbly followed, still wincing in pain. You turned yourself onto your back and spread your legs as far as you could, quivering and vulnerable. Coriolanus watched, entranced by your naked body. You looked at the boy, gawking at you. His hand grabbed your tied wrists and lifted them above your head. The boy then moved his head between your knees, planting a kiss on your knee, then on your inner thigh. He peered up at you, your pussy throbbing and yearning for his touch.

“Please, I can’t take it. Touch me,” you begged, your voice timid, scared of the boy between your thighs.

“Say please.”

“Please, please?”

“Good girl.” he purred, lowering his head further, you felt his nose graze your pubic bone.

His lips planted a kiss, then moved down to your folds. A moan instantly escaped your lips, your body churning at the feeling of his lips on your moist folds. Your back arched. You felt his lips move against your core, lapping at your folds. He used his tongue to press against your clit, making you cry out and heave. His arm traveled up to your breast, massaging it as his tongue lapped at your pussy. His nose pressing against you. You squirmed as he used his mouth to suck your clit, sending your eyes to the back of your head. The sensations overstimulate you, leaving you hopeless. You didn’t dare bring your arms down, knowing he wouldn’t react well.

He lifted his head from your heat for a second and peered up at you. “You taste so good, let me show you.”

He raised himself and lowered his lips onto yours. Forcing your mouth open with his, his tongue invading your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. You moaned in his mouth, completely dumbfounded by the boy.

“Now, open your mouth,” he said, gripping onto your chin. 

You dumbly followed, letting him spit into your mouth. You swallowed without hesitation. 

“Good, you did one thing right,” he remarked, unbuttoning his pants, holding eye contact with you from above. 

He swiftly removed his pants, followed by his shirt. His body was leaner than you’d expected, his muscular frame surprising you. He hauled himself off the bed and lowered his brief, freeing his throbbing penis. You let out a small gasp. He motioned for you to come towards him, you crawled, wrists still tied, and sat on the edge of the bed in front of him. His penis right across from your face. He stared down at you.

“Look what you did to me, fix it up. Now,” he demanded.

You nodded your head as you leaned to lick his penis. You use your lips to latch onto his tip, sucking on it as you let your tongue massage it. He groaned from above you, eyes closed. Your head moving slowly to and from, his dick still in your mouth. Your tongue glided back and forth as you pleasured the boy. He threw his head back as you did everything you could to his dick with your mouth alone, you spat on it frantically as you took his cock deeper into your throat. Gagging on his dick and pushing yourself past your limit.

“Go fucking deeper, you dumb fucking slut. Treat it like you would treat some other guys. Whore.” he demanded, his hand latching onto a chunk of your hair. 

He pushed himself further down your throat, tears rolling down your eyes in return. He pumped your throat like it was your pussy, you gagged on his cock uncontrollably. Your wrists were tied in front of you, helpless as he fucked your throat. He pulled your head back with the chunk of hair. You gasped for a breath of air frantically, tears rolling down your eyes. His open palm landed against your cheek again, causing you to gasp in pain.

“When I tell you to go deeper, I mean it, slut. Aren’t you meant to be smart?” he scoffed, looking down at your frail frame. “You spent years trying to get under my fucking skin, now I’m on yours, and you don’t know how to act? Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Daddy, thank you.” you whimpered, sniffling as he shot you a smile.

“There you go, pretty girl. Turn over for me now.” 

You nodded dumbly, turning around on the edge of the bed. You used your elbows for support as you perked your backside up. The boy stared at you hungrily. You felt a slap land on your cheek again, causing you to flinch in pain. 

“You wanna feel me?” 

He watched your head bop and down in response. Within no time he prepped himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. You groaned into the mattress, feeling his large cock stretch your pussy. 

“Little Miss Capitol is tight, isn’t she?” he sneered.

He slowly pushed himself in, then out. You groaned as his pace picked up excruciatingly slow, every thrust filling you up. His dick stretched your walls, every bit of your pussy was filled with his cock. He gripped your hip and leaned forward, using his free hand to push your wrists further from you.

His pace quickened. His cock slung in and out of you, moaning as he slapped your ass. You didn’t flinch, distracted by the feeling of his cock. Your moans grew louder as he quickened his pace, hitting a spot within you that hadn’t known of until now. Your body quivered as you felt the boy fuck you with all his strength.

You felt his arm wrap around your throat, pulling you up and restraining your breathing. You gasped, his pace not slowing. You felt his chest against your back as he thrusts into you mercilessly. His free hand slithers to your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. You felt your muscles wear as he continued to push into you, overstimulated beyond comprehension.

Your stomach tightened as you came, and you shrieked. Your entire body loses its balance, flailing forward on your chest. Coriolanus didn’t stop. He continued to thrust into you, your body limp in front of him. You moaned into the mattress as he fucked you whilst his hand circulated your clit. 

“I came, Coriolanus, I came!”

“I know, shut up.”

He ignored your words. Your body tightened again, this time your juices threatened to squirt out. You fought every bone in your body to not let it out. His finger still rubbing your clit as he pushed into you. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum again. I can’t, it hurts!”

“Yes, you can, you can.” He breathed from behind you.

You cried out, shamefully squirting on your bedsheets. The boy pulled his cock out and frantically massaged it until his semen shot on your back. He heaved from behind you.

“Now, you are just like the rest of the girls. I’ll see you on Monday, doll.”

—

pt2 published…. read here.

[zamalie]

i used to almost befriend a lot of people but only as a younger kid and idk if it’s just my experience but girls have such a habit of collectively ignoring you and then getting confused and kind of grossed out if you ever end up having extended interactions with a boy instead

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Healing is Slow, but Inevitable (part 7)

Previous | Masterpost

“So, what are you?” Jason asked about a week after the meeting with Batman, a few days after Dick left again after his unscheduled weekend visit, and they hadn’t really talked about it. Danny had been flighty and tense for days afterwards so Jason hadn’t wanted to bring it up. Now that Danny seemed calm again, curled up in bed with him after a decent day and some great sex, it seemed like the best time he was going to get. 

Danny sighed and turned his head to hide his face against Jason’s shoulder for a moment, but he stayed relaxed and he wasn’t running, which were good signs. “I was kept prisoner for almost two years by the Ghost Investigation Ward, what do you think I am,” Danny muttered a little bitterly. 

“But you’re not a ghost, right? I mean you eat, and sleep and I can feel your heartbeat right now,” Jason said, pressing his hand Danny’s chest, where his heart was indeed beating, slower than most people’s but that was normal for Danny. Then, right under Jason’s hand, Danny’s heart stopped beating. 

Jason panicked and pulled back only for Danny to catch his wrist and keep his hand there, Danny pushed himself up a little and stared down at Jason. He seemed fully alive, and fine, even though his heart still wasn’t beating under Jason’s hand. Danny sighed and lay back down, the feeling of a heartbeat returning under Jason’s hand, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“I’m what’s called a Halfa. It’s a stupid name but I’m not going to come up with a new one. It’s not entirely accurate either, since I’m both 100% alive, and 100% dead.” He saw the lost look on Jason’s face and backed up quickly to explain more. “There’s a place called the Ghost Zone, or the Infinite Realms, it’s a world between worlds that links to every living world and contains every afterlife.” He was tracing little patterns on Jason’s chest as he talked. “Portals open to it in other worlds sometimes, natural things that form and collapse again quickly. 

“Halfas are made when one of those portals happen to open, directly on top of and into, a living person. It kills them, then because of the power of the realms their soul forms a ghost immediately, resurrects them and slams that fully formed ghost back into the living body, bonding them back together and creating a living-ish, ghost. I’m the only true halfa in existence right now, and I’m… unique, even for my kind. Because the portal that made me was the first man-made one, it was far more stable and more powerful than the natural ones, meaning that I got a double dose of energy.

“Halfas are already a powerful species, the perfect balance between life and death, a bridge between worlds partially immune to the weaknesses of both. But I’m strong even compared to other halfas, at least that’s what I’m told by the Ancients. Like I said, I’m the first one in about five thousand years, and the only one in existence right now, so I’ve never exactly met someone else like me.” 

“Holy shiit,” Jason whispered before falling silent. He started to comb his fingers through Danny’s hair so he would know Jason wasn’t upset or mad as he took a while to process all Danny had told him. “You don’t have to talk about it but if you’re that powerful then… how did the GIW manage to capture you?”

“My parents were the ones who captured me,” Danny murmured, hiding his face against Jason’s neck. Jason’t breath caught in his throat. “They were ghost hunters all my life, they built the portal but I didn’t want to hurt them. I was still trying to talk to them, to convince them I really was still their son. Then the GIW found out they had me and demanded my parents hand me over. When my parents refused and tried to defend ‘their discovery’ The GIW just… blew up the house. Because of my powers I survived, no one else did. While I was still in shock they took me.

“It broke my heart, in a literal sense. I want to show you something,” He said and sat up again, legs crossed. Jason sat up as well, mirroring Danny’s position and watching him curiously. “Humans have organs and brains and all those squishy, meaty bits. Ghosts have a core, it contains everything we are, everything else will just reform around it as long as the core is undamaged.” He pressed his hands against his own chest and after a moment, he drew something out. 

It was an orb of what looked like blue stone, but it was cracked, pretty extensively, in a similar pattern of cracking to Danny’s lightning scar. “What they did, it cracked my core,” Danny said looking down at it baleful. “Literally broke me. If I was a full ghost it would have destabilized and ended me, my humanity kept me together. Which just meant more for them to experiment on,” He said with a bitter little laugh. 

“Danny,” Jason murmured, a heartbroken little sound as he sat forward and reached towards Danny. Danny tensed, and looked fearful for just a moment, but he didn’t pull away. Instead he opened his hands and held his core, his heart, out towards Jason. With permission Jason traced the branching pattern gently with a finger, it felt cool and smooth under his fingers, energy tingling in his fingertips and the cracks rasping slightly against Jason’s calluses. Danny shuddered and gasped as all the tension bled out of him under Jason’s gentle touch, his eyes fell closed, and his expression was peaceful now.

“It’s been getting better,” Danny said, opening his eyes again after a moment and looking up at Jason adoringly. “Since I met you, you gave me purpose again and I can feel the cracks healing, it’s slow, but it was always going to be.” 

Jason pulled his hand back and Danny pressed his core back to his chest. “I’m glad you’re healing. You’ve been helping me a lot too, healing is always slow, but we’ll do it together. And you’ll tell me if I ever make it worse, or if there’s anything I can do to help won't you?” 

“Ya we will, but I think I’m well enough to face the GIW soon. I’ll start looking for them along with your people. If they’re still around I don’t think it will take me that long to find them,” Danny told Jason softly. “As for helping, just don’t leave me, and don’t die. I don’t want to think about what I could become without you to ground me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll be right there with you when we take down the GIW. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I love you,” Jason promised, pulling Danny back against his chest.

“I love you too,” Danny sighed, snuggling against Jason tiredly.

-----------

Danny hadn’t been kidding when he said he would be able to find the GIW quickly when he started to look. It turned out that the GIW were sort of using ghosts in their firewall? It made it next to impossible for regular people to find, or hack it, but made it all the easier for Danny to track down. He found five bases besides the one that he had destroyed during his escape. Which was more than Jason had expected, though none of them seemed to be that big. According to the files two had ‘specimens’, so they were going to hit those two first and free whatever free whatever poor souls were still trapped there.

Jason had yet to leave Crime Alley since his takeover of the turf, but it would have to happen eventually. They would only be gone for one, maybe two days so it was a good first test. 

They had a basic plan; break in and rely on stealth till they had located the prisoners, release them, then cause as much damage and havoc as they could on the way out. Danny would be the power house, taking the chance to really let loose in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Jason would follow and plant explosives so once they got out they would leave nothing to salvage. 

They had a bit of a discussion about when to go. During the night there would be fewer people there making it safer to break in, but the disadvantage of that was they would take out fewer GIW agents. The fewer of those assholes still walking the earth the less likely it was anyone would come for Danny. There would be no one to continue the cycle of violence if everyone else was dead. In the end they still decided to go at night. If only because they would be less likely to walk in on someone actively being tortured, which would be too much for Danny. They needed to avoid Danny having a panic attack in enemy territory if at all possible.

So Jason wrangled his people into readiness to be left alone and keep things ticking over, and told a few selected people where they were headed in the unlikely case they needed rescue. Jason had started planning a ride too, since unlike the Bats they didn’t have their own private jet. But Danny told him there was no need, just get them out of Gotham and Danny could handle the rest. Jason was curious about what he meant by that, but when he asked Danny gave him the cheeky smile that promised it was a surprise Jason would like. Jason decided to wait and see.

Once they were ready they left Gotham at Sunset, Danny on the back of Jason’s bike with his arms tight around his waist and pressed against his back. Normally when they rode like this Jason could feel Danny’s vibrating purr against his back but today Danny was still and silent, probably too tense to purr. Jason understood, no matter what they found or how well this went it was bound to be triggering as hell. Danny was walking right back into one of the facilities where he had been experimented on and tortured. Jason didn’t think there was anything he could say to make Danny feel better, so he mostly stayed quiet and let Danny think his thoughts. 

“Okay, we’re far enough away I think. Pull over please, far enough that we won’t be easily seen from the road. I haven’t done this in… more than a year, I’m not totally sure how it’s going to go,” Danny said suddenly and Jason nodded, looking for a place to pull off the road and into the woods. Finding a good place to hide his bike, and themselves for whatever Danny was planning on doing.

Jason found a place to park his bike and let Danny get off before him, once they were off he laid the bike down where it wouldn’t be easily found, and turned on his personal tracker so he would be able to find it later. “Alright, ready when you are. I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve been so mysterious about,” Jason encouraged his boyfriend, taking off his motorcycle helmet to switch it for his Red Hood one.

Danny nodded and took a few steps back and took a deep breath, “I really haven’t done this in years. Not since I escaped for the first time. It made it easier for them to track me,” Danny explained before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

As Jason watched Danny started to change, not all at once, but the appearance Jason knew started to flicker and fade in patches. It looked like he was molting, and like a computer glitching, leaving him looking… different. The shape of the costume was a lot like his Hyena get-up, but it was entirely monochrome, and this Hyena had been dead for a long time. The suit was black with start-white protruding ribs wrapped around his chest like armor, white knee and elbow pads, and a white stripe down the front of his boots added to the skeletal effect. Danny’s mask had turned from a muzzle to a Hyena skull with a tuft of white hair showing above it. When Danny opened his eyes they were pits of toxic green glowing from behind the Hyena’s empty eye sockets. 

Jason would have frozen up completely, if he hadn’t noticed Danny was swaying slightly. Jason jumped forward just in time to steady Danny before he could fall. Danny leaned against him, he felt cooler than usual and… insubstantial in an odd way. 

“That felt different then it used to,” Danny murmured, putting a hand to his forehead. He felt the mask and blinked before glancing down at himself. “Huh, I knew this form was connected to emotions and shit, but I didn’t expect it to change this much,” He murmured, running his hands over the mask and then back through his hair, pushing his hood back to show his hair was all white now, and moving like it was underwater. 

“What… is this?” Jason asked, combing his fingers through Danny’s hair which felt like the softest, unmelting, fresh fallen snow between his fingers.

“My ‘ghost form’. I told you I was as dead as I was alive, this is my dead form,” Danny said gesturing down as himself before fully gaining his footing and standing up on his own. He took off the mask (Jason was far more relieved then he’d admit that Hyena skull was a mask, he hadn’t been sure) and smiled at him. Danny still looked very much like himself, though his mouth was wider, his teeth were sharper and his skin had the very distinct deathly pallor of a frozen corpse. 

Jason gave a considering hum and cupped Danny’s face, leaning down to kiss him. His lips felt cool and there was no pulse against Jason’s lips, but they were soft and Danny kissed back with the same sweetness as always. “You look badass as hel,l Moonlight,” Jason told Danny who blushed a soft blue and smiled at him, pulling him back in for another quick kiss.

“Alright, like this I can get us to the base,” Danny said, pulling the mask back on before his feet lifted off the ground and he hovered a few feet up. “Carrying you should be no problem, we’ll be silent, and if needed I can cloak us. We just have to land a ways out because I’m sure they have ghost detectors and shields. I’ll have to change back to get through. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great,” Jason agreed easily. He’d been around the Supers for years as a kid, he was used to being carried like that.

“Great,” Danny cheered, swooping over Jason and grabbing him under the arms and lifting him up with no apparent effort. He held Jason as they took off towards base, Danny flew fast but Jason’s helmet protected his eyes from the wind so it was fine.for Danny to change back into his human form. It looked like reversed timelapse footage of a flower losing its petals. Jason watched in awe as the man he knew and loved reformed around this odd, pale being. 

When it was done Danny shook out his limbs and rolled his head on his neck like he was having to resettle himself in his body before he nodded firmly once. “Alright, let’s go,” Danny said, checking his mask one more time.

Jason nodded and made a hand sign to advance, reminding Danny from here on they wouldn’t be using words. Danny nodded and fell in just behind Jason as they approached the facility. They had found a weak point in the plans for ventilation and used that to get in. This place was clearly designed to keep things in more than out, and not with humans in mind, it was almost embarrassingly easy to sneak in. They hid as a couple of agents walked by, assholes in white coats and dark glasses, edgy as hell and obviously overly full of themselves. Jason was looking forward to ripping through them on the way back out.

As they moved through the building Jason planted bombs at strategic locations ready to be detonated once they had cleared the facility of anyone who actually deserved to live. They didn’t want to leave anything standing. The less of the information and weapons that survived to potentially fall into the wrong hands, the better.

In the labs on the lower floors they found a few ‘blob ghosts’ as Danny called them, and a bunch of equipment, a couple of which Danny helped himself to. Jason didn’t bother because he didn’t know what any of this stuff was, they’d probably do more harm than good in his hands. 

Deeper in the labs they found a few proper ghosts too, locked in cells Jason managed to hack and get open. Danny darted in and started murmuring softly to a woman he called Ember, and who called him Babypop with shock and grief before he used one of the tools he’d stolen to open some sort of portal and sent her on. He found a thing he called Shadow, but that one didn’t talk, and Jason didn’t see it though he believed Danny that it was there. Danny used the portal gun to send them on too.

They were reaching the end of the facility and Jason was glad they’d only found two sentient beings, he would have much preferred None but it could have been a lot worse. This was the largest facility so if they only had two actual ‘ghosts’ the others would probably have one at most. 

They moved through the rest of the labs quickly, staying just long enough to clear them of anyone who might be held there, but not lingering over metal tables, scalpels, lasers, and saws. Jason was trying not to think about Danny strapped down to one of those, cut open and either begging them to stop or dissociating and staring, he wasn’t sure which would be worse. 

Finally they reached the deepest room in the facility, Jason was expecting another lab, until he saw the security pad at the door. The previous labs had been in a complex, no codes or cards needed to get into each individual one once you were on the floor. What was special about this lab? The security was decent too, nowhere near as easy to get through as previous doors. 

“Keep watch Hyena, this is going to take a minute,” Jason murmured into their mic and Danny nodded, flitting to the end of the hall to keep watch while Jason worked on the security. 

It took him about fifteen minutes and thankfully no one came around, they must have hourly patrols or something. Danny glanced over at the sound of the door unlocking and Jason nodded, gesturing for him to come. He stepped inside, getting the full view of a room full of wires, monitoring equipment, and what looked like a cloning tube or stasis pod. Holy shit was the GIW somehow in league with CADMUS?

There was a girl floating in the tube, maybe fourteen or fifteen, small for her age. Her hair was black but he couldn’t see much else. He heard Danny come into the room behind him and let out a soft gasp.

“Oh god,” Danny breathed softly. Jason looked over at Danny expecting to see his own surprise reflected in Danny’s face. No, he was shocked, yes, but he looked heartbroken and horrified. There was absolutely recognition there. “Ellie.”

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Guilty as Sin? - Chapter Three

pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader

rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, Derrick shows his true self, Javier comes to the rescue, depictions of SA (minor, though proceed with caution), mentions of alcohol consumption

word count: 4.2k

series masterlist

Friday night marked not only the temporary break from having to see Dr. Peña every single day, but also your stupid date with Derrick. He’d been out of the apartment when you woke up, him and Nina off at the gym. Alondra crawled into bed with you, her laptop in tow. 

“I don’t wanna go tonight,” you grumbled, drawing the blankets up to your face as she got comfortable beside you. “Just tell him I’m sick or something.”

“He’s been looking forward to this all week,” she reminded, pulling up Netflix. “Hell, for the last four years.”

“Yeah, well I’ve been dreading this for the last four years so where does that leave us?” you challenged. “I’m supposed to make myself uncomfortable just to make his little dream come true?” 

“I’m not saying that,” she sighed. “I’m just saying what harm could come from going to dinner with him? He’s your friend, just pretend you guys are grabbing food or something casual.”

“But he won’t want casual,” you snapped, throwing your blanket back so that you could get up. “He’ll want the full treatment.”

“There’s worse men to pretend to like,” she said, closing her laptop as she watched you tug on a hoodie and sweats. “At least he’s good looking and harmless.”

“Harmless as a friend,” you pointed out. “Who knows what he’s like on a date.”

“That’s why you should go,” she urged. “To find out if maybe that’s what was missing—“

“There’s nothing missing!” you shouted. “I don’t want him, not because I just haven’t seen how charming he is, not because I haven’t given him a chance. I don’t want him because I don’t want him. End of story.”

“Then don’t go!” she shouted back. 

“How? How am I supposed to turn him down when I’ve tried that for the past four years and he doesn’t give a shit. He’ll keep trying and trying until I finally cave, so I’ll fucking go tonight, but this is it. No more putting his feelings above mine.”

“Then I don’t know why you’re complaining.” 

You took a deep breath, finding the patience you knew you possessed but seemed so far away in this moment. Out of all people, you expected Alondra to understand your side of the situation. She’d never spent a day in her entire life thinking about what a man wanted, what they were feeling and how she might accommodate for it. And yet, here she was demanding that you not only go through with this but that you shut up while doing it. 

“I just want to be alone for a while,” you said, dejected and hurt. “It feels like the entire world is turning for him and I’m just here. You and Nina love him, I know, but what about me?”

“We love you,” she said, her brows furrowing. “It’s just that sometimes it almost feels like you avoid the things that you know will be good for you in favor of shit that’ll wreck you. We’re just trying to show you that Derrick is a good thing.”

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I’m gonna be at the library until my lab. Tell Derrick I’ll meet him back here at ten.”

“Don’t be like that,” she coaxed, following you into your shared bathroom to watch you brush your teeth. “Don’t be mad.”

Spitting out the toothpaste, you tried to ignore her guilt tripping. “I’m not mad, I just want to be alone.”

“Fine,” she said, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Text me if you need me?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, watching her leave the room knowing damn well she just earned a spot at the bottom of the list of people you’d reach out to.

Dr. Peña’s lab went by smoothly, the undergrads taking their first quiz of the semester in absolute silence as you got to work grading yesterday’s assignment. Dr. Peña had been taking careful glances at you, his brow furrowed with concern. Not that you could blame him. For the last two days you’d been dressing to impress, or more delusionally, to seduce, but today you’d shown up bare faced and in sweats. 

Setting his pen down, he cleared his throat and walked over to your desk, causing your tired eyes to lift to his. “Everything alright?”

You nodded, giving him a forced smile that only managed to deepen that look of concern on his face. 

“Just tired,” you lied in a whisper, shrugging your shoulders. 

“I know these late night labs aren’t the easiest—“

“No, no,” you assured. “It’s not the lab. Just…personal stuff.”

He lifted his chin in understanding, his fingers tapping against the wood of your desk. “Well, if you’d prefer, you can finish grading those at home. They’re just going to be taking the quiz tonight, so we’ll be fine without our prized TA.”

You smiled at the compliment—or at what you assumed to be one. “It’s fine. Home’s not very appealing to me right now.”

“The offer stands,” he smiled, soft and almost unnoticeable before walking back to his desk. 

Too bad you noticed every single thing he did. 

After the lab, you headed home to get ready for the punishment that was an hour spent at the snobbiest restaurant in Austin with your not-so-friend. Derrick was locked up in his room, no doubt trying to overcome his jitters while you did the same. Only your jitters felt more like tremors, something deep in your soul cautioning you against going. Still, you persisted. 

Slipping into a skirt and your favorite top that gave you the confidence necessary to walk into this situation with your head held high, your makeup flawless and subdued, your hair just the way you like it, you took a deep breath and opened your door to greet Derrick with a forced smile. 

“You look…wow,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. While you smelled his clean scent, there was also a hint of something else on his breath—tequila, perhaps? “No one’s gonna believe you’re with me.”

You cleared your throat, glancing at Nina and Alondra who stood in the kitchen eavesdropping. “Let’s go. Don’t want to be late for your fancy reservation.”

He laughed, nodding as he held out his hand for you to take. You pretended not to notice it and busied your hands with holding your bag and phone, which…

Fuck, you forgot to charge your phone. 

“My brother recommended this place,” he said, brushing off your rejection as he walked you out of the building and to his car. “It’s where he proposed.”

“Mm,” you hummed, still lost in your head. 

“You like sushi, right?” he asked, opening your door. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, slipping into the passenger seat. “We’ve been friends for how long now and you don’t know that?”

He chuckled, buckling his seatbelt. “I don’t pay attention to little shit.”

You stared at his profile with something akin to disgust, the realization that he’d never viewed this friendship in the same light as you finally dawning on you. “Friends usually try to pay attention to little shit like that.”

“Yeah, well we’re a bit more than friends,” he smirked, glancing at you before bravely moving his hand to your thigh. You jerked at the touch, pulling away from him to turn towards the window. “So, uh, how’s Peña’s lab?”

“It’s good,” you managed, counting the streetlights as they passed by. 

“That’s shocking,” he chuckled. “What, he’s not a dick to them?”

“He is,” you shrugged. “But not to me.”

“For obvious reasons,” he chided. “Alondra told me about the whole don’t wear a skirt thing. Sounds like a fucking creep.”

“It wasn’t like that,” you argued, turning towards him. “And you can tell Alondra I’d appreciate it if she didn’t tell you all of my business.” 

“She was just looking out for me,” he said, giving you a frown. “Can’t have your professor trying shit if we’re gonna give this a real shot.”

“Derrick, I don’t—“

“No, just…let’s keep this date free of all that pessimist shit,” he snapped, reminding you of his inebriated state. Fuck, and you were in a car with this shithead? “Tonight I want you to put all that trauma aside for once and keep yourself open,” he demanded, causing your heart to race. 

What would happen if you didn’t? Would he hurt you? Would he shit talk you to all your friends? Would he make something up?

“Fine,” you managed, balling your hands into fists as they rested on your lap. 

After a car ride spent listening to him detail his summer of luxury, the two of you found yourselves seated in the restaurant located on the opposite side of town. You’d only been out in this area once to celebrate your first anniversary with Micah, though that time you were forced to split the bill. Derrick wouldn’t have any of that, not with his trust fund and need to prove himself. 

You didn’t speak much at dinner, not because you had nothing to say but because he wouldn’t stop talking. He’d covered everything from the first birthday he could remember to the day he first met you when you were both frightened freshmen on campus. Perhaps the trip down memory lane would’ve made you smile if it wasn’t for his wandering hands beneath the table. 

When the bill was paid and the two of you were on your way out, you thought the terrible night had finally come to a close. But of course it hadn’t. 

Derrick surprised you by pulling you into a dark alleyway, his hands greedy as he pulled you against his frame. You felt his lips on yours, taking and taking and giving you not a damn thing but a sick feeling of alarm in your stomach. 

“Derrick, stop,” you hissed, pushing against his chest as he continued to lean in, caging you against the stucco wall. 

“You want me,” he rasped, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as his liquor-scented breath flooded your nostrils. “You’re just scared of it ending badly.”

“No,” you protested, continuing to push him away. “I don’t want any of this. I don’t feel that way for you.”

“Yet you showed up wearing this.” You froze as you felt his cold fingertips graze the outside of your thighs, inching his way closer to the hem of your skirt. “Just…let loose for once. Let your guard down and I swear you won’t regret it.”

“I already regret it,” you hissed, shoving him hard enough to cause him to drunkenly stumble back. “You’re drunk and acting like fucking dick.”

He shook his head, chuckling at your words or the situation, you couldn’t quite tell. “I want you.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Four fucking years of waiting around, then you finally decide to go out with me, and now…what? You’re just gonna act like a tease?” 

“I’m going to beat the shit out of you if you keep talking,” you warned, though you knew your strength was no match for his. Still, female rage and adrenaline fueled you, coaxing you into not giving a fuck about the outcome. If he pushed any harder, you’d gladly fuck around and find out. “I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.”

“Stop,” he whined, grabbing your wrist to keep you from leaving. “Don’t be such a bitch.”

“I’m a bitch?” Fuck around and find out, it is. “I’ve been nothing but a good friend to you all these years, even knowing that you didn’t give a fuck about any of that. You’d rather I be in your sheets than in your life, that much is fucking clear now.”

“I’m just saying, it’s not cool to continue to give me hope—“

“I didn’t give you shit!” you yelled, yanking your wrist from his grasp. “How many times have we talked about this? How many times have you made me feel guilty for something I have no control over? I don’t want you, Derrick. I never have, and after tonight I certainly never will. Face it or don’t, but our friendship ends here.”

“We live together,” he reminded, stepping towards you. “You can’t avoid me like you avoid Micah.”

“Can’t I?” you chuckled, shaking your head. “You have no idea how easy it’ll be for me to pretend as if you never existed.”

He let out a huff of disbelief, shaking his head at you as if he had any right to feel disappointed. No, that right was yours alone in this situation. You thought you found a man who you could call a true friend, only to find out he was just as bad as the rest of them. Maybe worse given the way he manipulated you these past four years, all to earn your trust. 

You took off down the street, not caring about the looks you received from passersby. You just needed to get somewhere safe and call—

Fuck. Phone’s dead. 

With fear threatening to take over, you stumbled into the first open shop on the block, a very fancy looking cafe that was mostly stranded on the inside. Tugging down the hem of your skirt, you huffed a sigh in order to rein in the tears threatening to spill as you swung the door open. 

“Welcome in,” the older woman behind the counter greeted, giving you a judgmental once over as your heels clacked against the hardwood floor on the way to the counter. “What can I get started for you?” 

“I was just wondering if there was any way I could use your phone to call a cab? I promise I’ll buy something—“

“I’m sorry, we don’t allow customers to use our phones,” she frowned, a display of mock sympathy that threatened to wear down your last remaining nerve. 

“I understand, and I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency,” you pleaded. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, ma’am,” she sighed. “Phones are for employee use only. Perhaps you can find a payphone or—“

The woman was interrupted by a familiar voice calling your name. Stomach sinking to the floor, you turned to find Dr. Peña sitting in a booth by the window with his laptop. 

Fucking perfect. 

“Dr. Peña.” You greeted him with a sigh and a forced smile, reluctantly heading towards his booth. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, giving you a quick once over before lifting his eyes back yours. 

“Yeah,” you lied, giving him a quick nod. He tilted his head and you and gave you a look as if to say liar. Letting out the saddest, weakest laugh you might’ve ever uttered, you decided to hell with pride. “No, I’m…it’s been a long night.”

He ticked his jaw as he considered you for a moment, leaving you in sickening suspense. “What happened?”

“You don’t want to hear about all that,” you assured, wiping a tear from your waterline. 

“I do,” he insisted, nudging his chin towards the other side of the booth. “Sit down, I’ll get you a coffee.”

“You don’t have to—“

“Sit,” he ordered, that stern voice cutting through the clouds of self pity and anger still looming overhead. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Black is fine,” you lied, slipping into the booth as gracefully as your skirt would allow. 

It took him a few minutes to return, that time spent locked inside your head, watching a replay from an eagle's eye point of view. Derrick's hands on your body, his lips on yours, his vile claims and threats sounding over and over. 

“So,” he said, handing you your cup as he sat down in front of his laptop before closing it. “What happened?”

“I don’t…I don’t want anyone to get in trouble,” you prefaced, earning a hesitant nod. “Derrick—

“Mr. Crawley?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “He’s been my friend for years now, we live together…but he has this really bad habit of not taking no for an answer.” Dr. Peña tensed, his jaw clenching. “That’s why I agreed to go out with him tonight, because I was just sick of having to explain that I only saw him as a friend. Thought I’d just get it over with, but that didn’t really go as planned.”

“Did he…try something?” he asked, his voice low and tense. You shrugged, questioning the entire interaction. If you hadn’t stopped him, if you hadn’t been brave enough to tell him no, would he have stopped? Did what he did really constitute assault? 

“I don’t know. Sort of,” you explained, tracing the rim of your cup as you spoke. “Dinner was shit enough, but then he cornered me in an alley, trying to cage me against a wall and…touch me, but I stopped him. Then he turned into this entirely different person than I’ve known all this time, called me a bitch and a tease. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize my phone was dead when I took off down the block, and now I’m stranded on this side of town. And truthfully, I don’t even know if going home is a good idea.”

Javier leaned back in his seat, raking his hands over his face. 

“I have a sinking feeling that if I go home, he’s just going to start shit again, which is the last thing I want right now.”

He nodded, understanding and sympathy in his eyes as he took a beat to think. 

“Firstly, I’m incredibly proud of you for sticking up for yourself. It’s not an easy thing to do, and you did it.” You refused to keen under his praise the way your heart demanded to. “If I’d have just put up with it—“

“Stop,” he said, shaking his head. “You did the brave thing and the right thing. He’s too fucking old to not know the difference between a woman who wants him and one who doesn’t. This shit is on him, alright?” 

You gave him a meek nod, still not able to look him in the eye. 

“I know you said you don’t want anyone to get in trouble, and I’ll respect that, but know that if you decide to report him, I’ll back you,” he offered, his eyes rounding and voice softening. “I don’t think you should go home. I—“ He sighed, lowering his hand to rest beside yours on the table. “I can drive you to a hotel, and if you need me to pay for it, I will. That way I’ll know you’re safe, and you’ll have your own space for the night.”

“No, that’s not necessary,” you assured. 

“No, it isn’t, but it’s late and you’ve clearly been through enough tonight,” he said. “But it’s your choice. I can call you a cab if that’s more comfortable.”

“Isn’t that…sort of against the rules? You giving me a ride?” 

He let out a soft chuckle. 

“It’s not ideal, but I don’t care about that right now,” he confessed, his pinky reaching out to brush against yours. “I just care about you being safe and comfortable.”

You bit your lip, eyes glued to his hand that seemed to be fighting an internal war over whether or not to reach out for yours. “I won’t feel safe and comfortable in a hotel. I’d just feel…alone.”

“I can’t,” he whispered to himself, moving his hand to his face. 

“Can’t what?” 

“Can’t do this,” he gestured between the two of you. “I can’t keep you company tonight.” 

“I didn’t mean—“

“I know what you meant, and I’m telling you I can’t let a student of mine crash at my place,” he sighed, conflict weighing on his face. “I’ll take you to a hotel and you can call a friend to stay with you.”

“I’m not going to let you pay for my hotel,” you protested. “That’s not happening.”

“Then what?” he asked, dropping his hand to the table. 

“I don’t know,” you snapped. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Here,” he handed you his phone. “Call a cab, they’re safer than an Uber.”

You stared at the unlocked screen, debating whether or not you truly wanted to handle things on your own or accept the help offered to you, even if it meant spending a night alone in a foreign environment, stuck with the flashbacks of Derrick’s hands on your body, his lips on your mouth. There was no safety in that, in being prisoner to awful memories you had no part in creating. The truth was that you needed him to distract you from yourself, and you didn’t care if you had to grovel or beg for it. 

“I’m asking you to please just…stay,” you whispered, too close to tears to speak up. “We don’t have to go to your place. We can go to the library for all I fucking care, I just don’t want to be alone. All my friends are his friends and I know what they’ll say about tonight. Everyone loves him, everyone wants to be his friend, and I’m just…around. They won’t believe me, and even if they do, they won’t see it the way I do.” 

Javier looked ready to tell me to fuck off and go find someone else to bother with all my problems, but threw me for a loop when he said, “Fine. Grab your coffee, and…here.” He held out a black leather jacket that smelled like him; whiskey, smoke, and warm spice. 

“Where are we going?” you asked, standing and draping the jacket over your shoulders as he gathered his things. 

“My office,” he said, his tone clipped and sharp. “It’s the only place where people won’t be around to see us. Not that I really give a shit, but you should.”

“You haven’t done anything but help me,” you offered. “I don’t care if people talk. You and I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“They don’t give a shit,” he countered, leading you out of the cafe. “Besides, we’re already breaking rules. Even if we aren’t acting on anything—“

“Is there anything to act on?” you probed, sticking close to him out of fear Derrick was still around searching for you. Dr. Peña shot you a knowing look over his shoulder. 

“There’s enough to drive me fucking crazy,” he admitted. 

You stopped in your tracks, shocked—and twistedly pleased—at his confession. He noticed your reaction, stopping to turn around and look at you with a pleading expression. 

“I didn’t mean—“

“I know what you meant,” you echoed his words from earlier. He ground his jaw and looked down at the sidewalk for a beat before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. You watched his lips mold around the cigarette as he took a deep drag, his brows furrowed as if he was in pain. 

“I’m not…” He shook his head again, looking up at the night sky. “I’ve been teaching now for five years. Never once have I done this shit. Never once have I let myself get involved. Until you.”

“Dr—“

“Javier,” he cut you off. “Call me Javier when it’s just us. It’ll make me feel better about how fucked up this is.”

“What’s fucked up about a woman in her late twenties and a man in his thirties talking?” you asked, stepping closer to him to feel a bit more of the thrill that did such a good job at blocking out all the bad shit going through your head. 

“I’m your professor,” he explained, watching you carefully. “There are rules against me developing this exact infatuation I can’t seem to fucking shake.”

“You’re infatuated with me?” you chuckled, more out of shock than amusement. Though you’d obviously sensed he saw some sort of potential in you that caused him to act like less of a dick than he did with everyone else, you’d have never guessed in a million years that he was interested in you. 

Javier chuckled darkly, stepping closer to you until you could smell his cologne. “Infatuated is an understatement.”

“And what would you say if I told you I was just as infatuated?” you asked, closing the gap between the two of you as you lifted your hand to rest on his chest. Not pushing him away like with Derrick, but beckoning him closer. 

He whispered your name, sending chills down your spin. “We can’t.”

“We’re not doing anything,” you countered, sliding your hand up to the back of his neck just to feel those soft brown waves that have been calling your name this last week. Javier grabbed your hand and lowered it gently, his thumb smoothing over your skin. 

“I’ll stay up with you tonight so that you can feel safe, but that’s it,” he whispered, his eyes darting across your face. “Okay?”

You wanted to frown, to throw a fit and beg him to not be such a stand-up guy, but that would be like asking a fish not to swim, the wind not to blow, a fire not to burn. He simply was a stand-up man and no amount of seduction could change that. “Okay.”

He let out a soft sigh, stepping away from you. 

“You’re lucky I have shit to grade tonight,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. “You might consider helping me with some of that, TA.”

You chuckled, nodding. “After a nap.”

“Sure,” he chided. “Take it that’s code for hell no.”

“Would you look at that. You’re more clever than you look, Professor.” 

[adventuringblind]

Pleaseeee part two of media relations!!!

Maybe J*s’ texts and comments to reader get brought up and Mac and Charles get all protective (maybe time skip with a mini verstappen 👀)

- 📚 @ireadthensuetheauthors

Media Relations Part Two

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: angst

Summary: Max and Charles get protective when Jos goes a bit to far.

Warnings: Jos Verstappen, lestappen if you squint, rough pregnancy and birth,

Notes: Reminder that I'm not a doctor :)

Masterlist

Charles had mixed feelings about the whole situation. Angry that Ferrari and Redbull screwed over his sister and friend. Happy that they don’t have to pretend to be in love anymore. Sad that she moved out of his apartment and into Max’s. Now he adds confused to his list.

The two had come over to his apartment for dinner. He wanted to show his appreciation for his sister and what she'd tried to do for him regardless of if falling through.

The female, though, had been anxiously eyeing her phone screen. It had buzzed a few times against the table, but she hadn't picked it up. It looked like she was even getting farther away from it.

When she excused herself, Charles jumped on the opportunity. "Is she okay? She's been acting a bit strangley."

Max sighs and stares at her empty place at the table. "She insists everything is fine, but you and I have known her long enough to see when something is off." Max looks at Charles, and the Monegasque can see the worry on his face. "She's been eating less and has barely touched her phone. She hasn't talked to anyone outside of me or you in a while."

"Yes, I know. My mother is getting worried about her."

Both of them had come to the conclusion that it's possible she's just going through a rough patch.

~

It's crazy how things change over the course of a year. Her and Max had been flourishing. Absolutely in love.

Max had been planning on proposing. Even going to Charles to ask his blessing.

The Dutch had yet to learn that plans change on a whim. That when he found his hopefully soon to be fiance crying on the bathroom floor of his hotel room his world would be changed again.

He sets himself down onto the floor and pulls her into him.

“I’m sorry.” She whimpers, handing Max a plastic stick. Ten of them, actually.

“You’re pregnant?”

She starts sobbing again but Max feels the opposite. He’s all smiles and warmth.

It’s not shocking she’s upset. Not to him, at least. She’s been on the receiving end of hate over the last year. Someone had leaked that they were originally doing this for a contract. Another reason Max wants to marry her. Help her insecurities about the whole thing.

“There is no reason to apologize.” He kisses her head.

“Your not mad at me? What if this is another distraction?”

“Another distraction? Where did you get that idea?”

She freezes. Her chest was barely moving. “No reason - just my brain being dumb." She starts wiping her tears away, but Max moves her hands aside and does it for her.

"Marry me?"

"What?"

“Marry me, please.” It was supposed to be romantic. He’ll make it romantic eventually. But as he stares at the smile on her face and shine in her eyes, he knew he made the right choice/

“Yes.”

~

Charles was the first to know. She’d called him much more excited then when Max had found her on the floor. She had yet to tell him about the threats she’d been receiving. He had his own things to worry about, specially with the contract leak. She didn’t want to bother him with her problems.

She’s two months in and laying on the floor in Charles apartment waiting for Max to come get her. “Charlie, what if this is a bad idea?”

Charles looks up from his phone. “What is a bad idea?”

“Max, the baby, everything I’ve ever done in my life.” She sighs.

Charles rolls his eyes at her. “You used to never ask these questions. I think there is something else going on.”

“Nothing at all.”

Charles once again want to push for answers. She got better for a while. Now she’s worse again. The truth is that mental health is not a straight road and he knows that, but he wishes for nothing more then his sister to communicate with him.

~

Four months now. She’s struggling worse then she ever has been. She loves Max with every fiber of her being. Yet she can’t bring herself to tell him the vile things Jos whispers to her when he’s not around or the texts she receives whenever he catches wind of what they do in their off time.

She’s struggling with the pregnancy in and it’s only been three months. She’s had to stay with her mother while Max is traveling. The doctor keeping a close eye on her.

She didn’t want to be a problem while he’s working. Maybe that’s the reason he’s dominating right now. She’s not there to Interfere.

She knows Max loves her. It’s what she clings to daily. The reason she pulls herself together every morning despite the fans and Jos.

It’s the thought that puts her to sleep as she curls up in bed and dreams of him.

Jos leaves with a huff when he gets no response.

Is the pain supposed to be this bad? Where’s her phone? Everything is fuzzy and if she could just find someone who could help her maybe she’d be okay.

But the exhaustion hits to soon. The floor becoming her new home.

~

Seven months. She’s going to see him race seven months pregnant. It’s the last race before summer break. She wanted to see at least one race before they go on holiday.

That’s how she got herself here. Standing in hospitality with Jos Verstappen.

She needs Max. Jos had been not so subtly telling her she shouldn’t be here. She’d turned her brain off after the first paragraph.

Her water had broken after the second.

She needs Max. Or Charles. Or literally anyone at this point.

“Are you even listening to me?!” When did he get so close? She’s three months early so the stress of the situation must have cause an early labor. It doesn’t help that she’s not listening and the feeling of liquid on her leg isn’t helping.

~

“Charles! Have you seen your sister anywhere?” Max gets the Monegasque’s attention.

Charles spins on his heels to face him. “She was in the Redbull garage last time I heard from her. Have you tried hospitality?”

“No, not yet. Might be a bit stupid for that one.” He chuckles.

“Mind if I come with? She looked pale when I left her before the race.”

“Only if you’re okay with the stares.” They both laugh and chat on the way. Since the female Leclerc has become a common factor between them, they’ve grown into quite the pair themselves.

They walk leisurely together through the paddock until Max catches sight of his father. The older male stomps in their direction.

"Tell that girl of yours to be more respectful." He shoves past Max and continues his fit straight through the lines of people.

Max rolls his eyes. His fiancé hadn't hesitated to stand up to his father in the past when it came to him. She was willing to fight anyone for people she cares about. Most likely, that's what happened.

Though there is a feeling in his gut that something else is going on. He and Charles now jog to the entrance.

Why are there so many people around?

His eyes fall to the figure on the floor, and he freezes. Clueless on what to do.

"We've called an ambulance for her." Says somone in the area. He can't tell who. Everyone's voices are swimming.

Charles' hand on his shoulder shakes him from his trance. Max's body is kneeling next to her in seconds.

Charles is calling his mother. She knows everything about her recent medical history forwards and backward.

"She's in labor, I think." Says a different female.

Labor? She's three months early. His mind is reeling, and he knows he needs to get a grip.

He looks at Charles for any sort of support, but the Monegasque is ranting in reach over the phone. Charles does catch his gaze, however, sliding to the floor on the other side of her.

It feels like an eternity until the ambulance gets there. Then Max and Charles are driving to meet her there.

Of course, it's the one week they are in a different country with no family around. He'd texted Christian, the Austrian was more than understanding. He even said he can't wait to meet the mini Verstappen.

The realization hadn't sunk in that he's going to become a father here shortly. "Charles I'm going to be a dad."

"And I'm going to be an uncle. We've known this for a while, mate." Charles is smiling, but Max can see the fear behind his eyes. Passing out is never a good sign.

~

Max is brought back to her room immediately. Charles had to wait for now until she could give permission. Apperently, she'd woken up screaming for Max.

It was too late for any kind of pain medication. The labor was induced by stress. Things didn't look like they should, and Max was panicking when they told him.

They get him sanitized so he can go in the room, and he dosen't know what to do. So he does the one thing he knows how to do and holds her hand.

"Max, it hurts so much." He can see the sweat and tears in her eyes.

It's long and tiring on her end.

But the sound of her baby's cries are all worth it.

~

Charles gets to go see them hours later when she's cleaned up. She looks exhausted when he peeks in the door. The baby lays peacefully on her chest.

Max is sitting next to her, waving him in with a massive grin.

"Charlie." She whispers. "Meet Jules." A baby boy is handed over to him and he dosen't know what to do with himself.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired and sore. Where is maman?"

"She'll be here as soon as she can." He smooths some hair out if her face.

"Charles, can I talk to you outside for a moment?" The Monegasque nods his head and hands the tiny body back to his sister.

Him and Max step outside the door, it shutting behind them with a small click.

"They said it was a stress induced labor. She suffered immensely because of it. Both her and the baby are going to need extra care for a little bit." Max explains.

Charles can hear the waiver in his voice. "Stress from what? The race ended perfectly." Charles taps his chin. His brain trying to think back.

"Do you - do you think it could have been my dad?" Max asks. Teary-eyed and exhausted, the Dutch doesn't know what else it could be.

"You don't think?-"

~

Max creeps back out of the room a second later. His lover and son asleep on the bed.

He clutches her phone in his hand. "I don't like invading her privacy."

"She's been scared of her phone for around two years now. I think we need to look for her safety and health."

Max unlocks the phone and sees a million unread messages. The majority is from an unsaved number.

Max keels over when he reads them. It's his dad's number. He'd texted his dad when the baby was delivered. He's coming to the hospital shortly to visit.

He feels idiotic. How had he not caught this sooner?

Charles helps Max back to his feet. "My dad's been sending her threats. Convincing her not to come to races. Telling her my success is better when she's not around to distract me." Saying the words out loud makes him feel sick again.

Charles takes the phone from his hands and scrolls through the messages so he disent have too. "I don't like how he calls the baby a parasite." He scrunchs up his nose in disgust.

Charles turns off the phone and grabs Max by the shoulders. "You cannot blame yourself for this. It's your dad, and you are not him. You are gentle and kind, and you've treated my sister better than I could've asked for." Max dries his eyes and nods his head.

She and his son both need him now.

~

Everything hurts. Her body feels weak and exhausted. But her mind hasn't been this elated in months.

Jules is lying on her chest. The name was something her and Charles fought over. Having then losing their godfather made them both want it. So it was decided that whoever had a child first gets the name.

Why does everything hurt so much? Charles and Max had to run back to the track to get their stuff but promised they'd be right back. That was twenty minutes ago, meaning they'll be back shortly.

When there's a knock at the door, she's surprised. Maybe her nap was longer then she thought?

Then, a familiar unfriendly face appears inside. "You had one job."

"Please get out."

"I told you to get rid of that thing." He snarls. Her mind is reeling, and the shouting wakes the baby.

She's crying as well, and his antics are doing nothing for her pain. Her heart rate was going up. She could hear it on the monitor.

She's frozen. The pain she felt from their last encounter back in full force.

She screams this time its so bad.

Max and Charles come running in the room. She didn't know how long she'd been screaming, but it was enough that people had heard.

Charles runs back out, yelling the word security.

Max's voice is fuzzy, but he's here. Her heart calmed with his presence. The beeping noise now less intense.

There are a few nurses around. One to take the baby, which makes her panic again. Another is to get her to breathe and give her something for the pain.

"You need to leave. I know what you've been doing now." Max seethes. He doesn't raise his voice, but he doesn't need to. His tone is enough to say everything and more.

They start speaking in Dutch. She can't keep up with it. She's too busy attempting to get Jules back anyway. Jos had threatened to take the baby a few times and being sperated like this with him in the room was doing nothing for her anxiety.

Charles comes back with security, who escort him out of the building. The room goes silent as he leaves.

"I told him never to speak to us again." Max is breathing heavily, and for a moment, she thinks she misheard. "I told him what he did is unforgivable, and he is never to speak to us again."

They both cry this time. The nurses leave them, and Charles is left holding Jules until the two calm down.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't want to ruin your relationship with him." She chokes. "I didn't want to be a hindrance for you or another problem to worry about."

All the hate she's received the past few years is not something she'd ever wish on someone. She just wants to live peacefully with her family.

"You have no reason to apologize. None of that is on you. They are jealous of you, and my dad is plain evil."

Max leans his forehead against hers. "We have our own little family now. I don't care what anyone has to say, I'm going to fight for it always."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for refusing to buy my friend gold? 

I (f/33) have a very good friend (f/39) who is Hindu and an Indian immigrant, and this year she invited me and my wife (33) to celebrate Diwali with her. My wife and I are white canadians and not religious. We’ve been friends with her for almost a decade, but in the last few years have become very close and now she is basically family. We happily accepted.

We brought over food and the stuff to make paper lanterns, and we had a lovely time. The problem came when near the end of the night, when my friend told me that it’s been so long since she had people to celebrate Diwali with, and she was getting excited for presents. I didn’t know Diwali included presents so I hadn’t brought her anything, besides the craft supplies and food, she said that was fine and we could get her something next year.

I asked her what sort of gift she would like, and she said gold was the traditional gift and, I quote “but make sure it’s above 10 karat or it’s basically tin, I’d just throw it away.”

I thought this was a joke at first so I laughed, which made her confused. I explained that I would never give anyone gold as a gift, I’ve never even gotten my wife gold, we couldn’t even afford wedding rings. When she still looked confused I tried to clarify, and asked how much is a gift of gold, traditionally (since I’ve never bought gold, I had no idea how much it would cost.)

She told me a minimum of 500 dollars.

At this point is the behaviour I think might make me an asshole, because I was laughing in complete disbelief very openly. I told her that was completely insane, and I would happily spend every Diwali with her and get her a gift, but there was no way I was buying her 500 dollars worth of gold, ever, especially not if it was a yearly thing.

I know that in India, my friend was of a pretty high caste socially and her family is well off, and here in Canada she is an accountant who owns her own condo, and is looking to buy more property and become a landlord. My wife and I live frugally, we’re blue collar and both from working class families. An average amount I spend on a Christmas or birthday gifts for someone I’m close to would be about 20-50 bucks.

After I’d explained all this to her, I could tell she was disappointed and it had made her sad and confused. Part of me feels bad for laughing at her tradition, especially since she made the effort to include us and has no family here to celebrate with. But it honestly boggles me, and makes me a bit mad, honestly, which I know is unfair since it’s just differences in how we grew up, but I can’t help feeling annoyed and like she’s not seeing her privilege.

This has been compounded by the fact that for Christmas, which we also celebrated with her, she actually gave us gold, worth quite a lot, in the form of a special coin. We’re not the type to display fancy stuff, so it just sits in storage now. But I’m worried she may expect tit-for-tat, even though the only way we could possibly afford to give her gold back in exchange is if we sold what she gave us which we are definitely not supposed to do.

We still hang out constantly and we will continue to do so, she is a for-life friend for a lot of reasons, and I’d love to make her holidays and celebrations special, but this is just a sticking point for me, and I find myself feeling/acting like a prick every time it’s brought up.

So, AITA? Does anyone have suggestions for this situation?

[sukirichi]

PURELY BUSINESS.

pairing. pantalone x fem! reader

cw. explicit smut, minors dni. creampie. fingering. pantalone likes to grope tits. backshots. creampie. vague mentions of death. reader does illegal jobs. implications of degradation. marking. pantalone is slightly possessive. unprotected sex. unedited and i wrote this in like an hour so agahsjkal

note. idk what happened, i saw a pantalone playlist and now i wrote this. honestly been simping for this man ever since i saw him ?!?!! i’m more of a dottore fucker but like pantalone is mad fine

darkness engulfed the languid town. the bitter moonlight casted a pale glow on the people’s sunken, gloomy faces, emphasizing how the frost had seeped into everyone’s bones and transformed them into mindless, lethargic zombies. such was a normal sight in the outskirts of snezhnaya—where all the less than beautiful people and less than sparkly trinkets were thrown. eradicated. not quite in the middle of nowhere, but exiled far enough to let the outcasts be consumed by the cold.

leaning back onto the abandoned building behind you, you pulled at your gloves. the cold in snezhnaya was nothing to take lightly. you were not a local here so your breaths came out fogged and ragged—merely a merchant of some sorts who would do pretty much anything when it came to the right price. and sometimes, the right clients.

rare as they may be since you hated the cold, there were certain circumstances that made sneaking into the mysterious ghostly territory worth it.

“still cold, i see? i could warm you up should you need assistance.”

you heard him before his dark, tall silhouette slowly appeared from the shadows.

silky black fur rested atop his shoulders that fit him snugly. the sight made you sniffle back the cold as you narrowed your eyes at the man, bewitched by his charming smile yet you knew better that his heart was as cold as his homeland, and his beauty only served to mask his sinister desires. desires that more often than not included in you warming each other up in his grandiose bed—an event that gradually became a normal routine in your life.

“pantalone,” you greeted, pushing your back off the wall and closing your eyes as his lips brushed across your cheek. “i’ve delivered the goods as you asked.”

“lovely,” a smirk paints over his handsome face. one glance at the inconspicuous carriage in the alleyway was all he needed—pantalone never doubted the quality of your service and trusted you wholeheartedly. even if he technically shouldn’t as you were an outsider. at this point, you knew too much about the harbingers’ motives that he should be hanging your head at his manor as a trophy, yet the both of you felt such violence was unnecessary. “though never as lovely as seeing you again, hm?”

“always the charmer, pantalone. let’s cut to the chase. i’ve delivered and you—”

“—must do my part and proceed with the payment, yes,” tilting his head to the side, your brow shot up at the sight of his bodyguards lurking in the shadows slowly back off. “shall we go, then?”

just like he, you had also broken your own rules when it came to doing business.

it was supposed to be simple: discuss the client’s needs, receive payment, and terminate the contract to ashes to leave no traces.

but with pantalone, it was either things became much simpler or your business would tumble downhill. it wasn’t part of the contract that you would be discussing each other’s needs in the bed just minutes later—his large, gloved hands gripping your hips with much eagerness from a man who hadn’t tasted his fleeting lover for weeks now. you weren’t supposed to kiss him back in the same fervour. fingers carding through his smooth locks and swiping his glasses off to the nightstand until pantalone was hovering over you, and you moaned into his mouth. legs wrapped around his waist.

you could spend the rest of your nights like this—rolling around with him in the sheets and leaving your scent in his satin pillowcases. true, there may be no promises you’d ever see the next sunrise with him, but who cared? the fog in snezhnaya was so thick it often blocked some proper light, and you were gone from pantalone’s quarters before he could notice.

that was the routine; one you’d never get tired of when pantalone knew your body better than you did. he reached sensitive places in you that you never knew existed, and the cruel man’s calloused hands held you gently in times he didn’t want to fuck you like you were a whore.

(it may be hard to believe, but pantalone was an expert at making love without love being thrown into the mixture.)

“would it be unprofessional if i said i missed you?”

his words were left muffled at the crook of your neck. pantalone’s hand sneaks under your blouse and unclasps your bra with ease, letting your head fall to his pillows with another guided hand. his eyes not once leaving yours as he awaited your response.

“hmm,” you mused, helping him shed his precious coat onto the ground. the both of you held each other like that, skin to skin and breaths shared into one. your nipples brushed across his solid chest littered with scars that held stories you hadn’t heard before. curiously, you traced your fingers above them, and the man sucked in a shudder before you. see, pantalone was a fearsome harbinger who was not to be trifled with, but you were a different story. you held no intentions of meddling in his business. it was never in your nature to poke your nose into matters you shouldn’t be involved with, but being involved with pantalone alone? perhaps you could look away from the strict rules of professionalism and simply give in to one’s desire.

even pantalone didn’t find it too bothersome to be rebellious every now and then.

“perhaps not,” you leant up to leave a kiss to one of the scars residing above his breast, legs spread wider to accommodate some space for him. there also laid the unspoken question of whether any of you had space left for each other to occupy, though the natures of your careers said otherwise. so you cupped his cheek, pulled him in for a sloppy kiss that was more tongue and teeth clashing than lips romantically moving in sync, and gnawed on the bottom plump of flesh. “i dare say i missed you too—pleasure doing a business with you as always, my lord.”

pantalone’s deep laughter reverberated into the spacious room.

“oh, i would understand why. your pockets must be filled deep each night you travel to where i ask you to.”

“as satisfying as it is that i can have whatever i want thanks to you...” dragging your tongue across his cheek, pantalone let you nibble on his earlobes. you were a teasing little minx—knowing full well it was the small, simple touches that always had blood rushing to his cock. you were proven correct, too, when he grinded his crotch against yours. his balls grazing the back of your thighs and his pinkish tip leaking with desperation; his poor hand must not have been good enough right after he’d had a taste of you. “...i’d rather you fill me deep and fuck me so hard i’m gonna limp my way back home.”

“is that a challenge?”

“it’s an order.”

pantalone shook his head with a small smile. were you anyone else, he would’ve shut you up effectively for speaking so casually with him. he was the ninth fatui harbinger, after all. the only treatment he accepted was that of extreme and utmost respect. but for you, he’d let it slide. he was more than willing to play into your little game for as long as you liked if it meant spending more time with you, yet he wasted no time diving back for another kiss. his hands travelling between your legs and cupping your mound until he was rewarded with a breathy moan.

“if my lady asks, then my lady shall get.”

when pantalone sunk two thick fingers in you, you pulled away from the kiss abruptly and fell back on the pillows. he curled them at just the right spot. mimicking the come hither gesture while his thumb paid attention to your clit, cooing out sweet words to help you reach your high. you saw stars flutter before you then at the pleasure. pantalone’s pace kept going faster that your juices began to pool at his palm, your legs closing itself to shy away from the impending orgasm but he was having none of it.

one strong arm pushed your leg flat on the bed till you were reduced into a panting mess. chest coated with sweat despite the biting cold, you let the hand covering your mouth fall beside you. if there was anything pantalone asked of you in bed, it was that you let him know how good he made you feel.

not only did his flutter his ego, but it drove him to make you feel even better. and when he saw your eyes rolling at the back of your head, felt your inner thighs quivering as your abdomen tightened, pantalone immediately pulled his fingers out.

you were about to complain for refusing your orgasm when pantalone’s lips suddenly latched onto your neck, the empty feeling in your cunt now replaced by a thickness that could only belong to pantalone. you moaned at the pleasurable intrusion. nails scratching down his back and relishing in the glorious image of his back muscles flexing with each slow thrust to get you accustomed to his length—pantalone’s girth too thick that it left a slight sting.

soon, the pain ebbed away with a few gentle roll of his hips and his hands worshipping your tits.

“fuck,” he chuckled under his breath, “you feel stellar. i don’t think i’ll ever get used to this.”

“you should. i’ll be coming back here more often than you think.”

pantalone leaves one last nip at your neck before his arm rested at the side of your head, his fingers caressing your skin with a butterfly touch. once his fingers found home in your hips, pantalone’s lips tilted upwards into a mischievous smirk. “yeah?” inch by inch, he pulled out until only his pulsing tip was left sucked in by your walls. “for professional reasons, i suppose?”

“purely business as always but that can cha—”

with one swift thrust back inside you, the wind was knocked out your chest. rendering you speechless was his cue to fuck you as he pleased—taking note of your command to fuck you so hard you had to limp back home. while the chivalrous man inside of him told him it wouldn’t be such a good idea since he had no idea where you lived, and he didn’t want your journey back home to be a dreadful one, he also took pride at the thought you would be reminded of him with every step you take. your thighs would burn and sitting down would be a menace. his cum would leak out of your tight pussy each time you made a small move.

groaning, pantalone pulled his cock out and grabbed you by the arms. he didn’t give you time to think when he’d flipped your body. head pressed flat on the pillows and your thighs grabbed by strong hands to jut your butt out to him. no more words could be spoken as you let out garbled moans and whimpered his name over and over again, pleading for pantalone to go harder. go faster.

and who was he to say no?

pantalone gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, determined that remnants of your passionate with him would traverse beyond lands he wouldn’t dare cross. his punishing thrusts were what pushed you to the edge, hands fisting his sheets hard enough to leave wrinkles. the lewd aroma of sex filled the numbing air of frost. your loud moans echoed and mixed along with his deep grunts at every instant you pushed your hips back to meet along with his. each deep drive of his cock was sure to mold the shape of him to your pussy. and he’d be lying if he didn’t grow harder at the thought only he could fuck you like this. only he could see you arch your back and call out his name so sinfully like this and this moment was meant only for him.

“how much i’d fuckin’ pay to have this pussy again,” pantalone snickered before delivering a harsh smack to your bum. you did most of the work now by wiggling your butt, body moving forward then backward as your walls fluttered around his thickness. the sight of you fucking yourself onto him was so vulgar that pantalone fell forward, hands reaching under to fondle your tits. “you comin’, baby? can feel you squeezing tight around me—fuck.”

“yes, yes, yes,” you were mindlessly babbling at this point. hands joining pantalone’s as he tweaked your nipples between your fingers and you cried out, your pussy sucking him in that pantalone drew a sharp gasp behind you.

as you came, pantalone’s whole body tensed before you felt his thick cum explode in your womb. the both of you collapsed on the bed; pantalone quick to move to the side as to not crush you while his softening cock left the confines of your heat. wincing, your legs remained open as you felt the cold breeze contrast with pantalone’s warm cum seep out of your cunt—leaving pantalone to rub his fingers on your slit while you tried to catch your breath.

staring up onto the high ceiling, your eyes began to feel heavy with sleep. the heat emanating from pantalone’s body had never been more welcoming, and the calming scent of his body wash was lulling you into slumber. and oh, you could have the best sleep of your life here in his king sized bed and thick duvets if only you didn’t want to get caught by the other harbingers fucking around with their comrade.

no, you valued your life much more than the tempting call of sleep.

“i... i gotta go.”

“so soon?”

“yep,” grimacing as you sat up, you reached for a towel pantalone prepared at his night stand every time you were bound for delivery and cleaned yourself up. legs aching and cunt still reminiscing the pleasure of having him fuck you into oblivion. the whole time, you could feel pantalone’s piercing gaze on you as he rested his face onto his palm, elbows bent and posing like a greek god—eyes narrowed sans the glasses whilst he burned the shape of your figure at the back of his mind. immensely flattering, his attention was, and you didn’t miss the way his cock began to harden once more as you fixed your tits back to your bra. “pantalone. we’re not having a second round as much as i’d like to.”

“i take no offense,” the man offered an easy smile, “this can always be a promise of a second time.”

“you can hold onto that. i might even return in two night’s time.”

“two nights? i didn’t ask you to get me anything—” the knowing smile you wore let pantalone know your next visit would be... less professional this time around. less professional settings meant there’d be no need for you to rush returning back home, and pantalone proudly sat up to plop his glasses back on. “i’ll clear my schedule for you then.”

mock saluting him, you winked.  “till the next time, my lord.”

“i will patiently await you, my lady.”

[writingonleaves]

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character

warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift

word count: 5.6k

author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!

~*~*~

When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 

It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.

She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 

At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 

She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.

May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)

I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 

I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 

But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.

When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 

At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.

I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.

I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?

The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 

But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.

After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?

When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 

I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 

June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 

I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?

I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.

I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 

Yet we still hurt each other. 

This fucking hurts.

You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 

Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 

When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 

Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?

I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 

All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 

It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.

And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.

The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.

I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 

So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.

Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 

So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?

I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 

I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?

You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.

Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 

Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?

It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.

I fucking loved you.

I wish it ended differently.

July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)

I really really fucking miss you. 

I do. 

I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 

I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.

I miss having you as a friend. 

I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.

Do you get the urge to do the same?

July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)

It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 

Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 

The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 

In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.

I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 

October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)

It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 

Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?

But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 

Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 

Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 

But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 

I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 

But I did once.

You did too, right?

November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)

I hate Halloween. 

Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 

Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 

It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 

We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?

Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 

Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 

I looked for you in every crowd for years. 

That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 

I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 

It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.

I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 

But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 

I hate Halloween.

November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)

I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 

Or maybe not. 

I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 

Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.

June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)

Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 

I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.

I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 

I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 

I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 

But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 

I hope you're moving on. 

And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 

If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.

Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 

Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 

But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 

Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 

She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.

And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 

She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.

After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.

Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 

Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 

Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 

It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.

Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 

(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)

She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 

The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 

She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 

Jeremy walks into the book store. 

Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 

As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.

Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 

The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 

The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 

The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 

Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 

“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 

Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 

He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 

“I see you bought my book.”

“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”

“You’ve been watching?”

She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”

She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”

“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 

She swallows. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ve already read it, you know.”

“Read what?”

Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”

“Oh.” 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”

She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”

“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 

He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”

“Could I get a signed copy?”

“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”

He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”

She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”

“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 

“We’re just going in circles now.”

“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”

“The point, is that I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”

He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”

“I do.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What are you going to let me do?”

“I live in Brooklyn.”

“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”

She tries again. “It’s been five years.”

“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”

Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”

“I hurt you too.”

He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”

“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”

“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”

“Even after reading the book?”

“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”

“Try for what?”

“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”

“Why did you never text me?”

“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”

“The message?”

“You blocked me, right?”

Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”

He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Who are you guys playing?”

“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”

She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.

to my first fan, 

i still love you too. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx

yours, 

noelle

He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 

“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”

“Oh.”

“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”

She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”

His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.

[yanderederee]

Im Rooting for You..!

April24th, 2004

a/n: no trigger warnings!! Mostly fluffy!! <333 this was my first attempt at Baji removing his nerd disguise, but it got buried and I forgot ab it!

Before… › here! › After!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

“Say.. Baji,” you said, almost in a whisper.

You’ve been tutoring Baji for about three months now. He was doing well, well enough that he could get by without your paid support. Yet…

Even knowing this, you wanted to stay by his side, and know more about him.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to Baji. He was gentle, considerate, dutiful, passionate — well, that aside…

You just weren’t ready to part ways. Not yet, at least.

There was just one thing bothering you.

These three months, you felt as though there was a huge part of Baji you still hadn’t met yet. Like he was only showing you a mask of a person.

You wanted to see who Baji Keisuke really was. Behind the thick rim glasses, behind the suppressed persona he claimed to be.

“Why… don’t you drop the act, around me..?” You asked, forced and meek.

You tried to maintain an aura of composure. Baji could sense that.

He picked up on your little mannerisms so easily now. The glasses actually ended up being a blessing, he was soon to realize. You could never tell when he stared at you, or read him quite right.

They kept you curious. He liked that growing curiosity of yours, and wasn’t sure if he was ready to give in so easily.

“What act?” He feigned jokingly, maintaining his composure without neglecting his handwriting over the latest study packet.

You gave your best glare, which only came off as a pout, crossing your arms passive aggressively. “Fine.” You sighed sarcastically, heaving yourself from your seat.

He realized quickly you were packing up for the day. “If you’re going to keep pretending around me, then keep it that way. I’m leaving. ”

What did you mean by that? What the hell made you so mad all of a sudden?

“Leave? I still don’t understand h—“ he tried to weave his way back into your usual groove, but you looked back at him with a somewhat… hurt expression, stopping all brain function he had.

The hell were you looking at him like that for?

“Baji.. I’ve done by duty as a tutor. If…. If that’s all I will be to you, then I …” you said shakily, having to pause a moment to maintain your poise composure.

“If you’re worried about how I’ll react to knowing the real you, please, stop. I want to be your friend. A real friend to you. I don’t want to keep pretending like I don’t notice the way you act differently around me.”

Your face was getting warmer and warmer, the more embarrassing things you were saying.

You weren’t planning to spill your heart out, this type of honesty was beyond your comfort, so why couldn’t you stop?

“Whoever you turn out to be, I would proudly stand beside you. S-so,”

“Wait,” Baji stopped you, voice stern and face completely hidden from view.

Baji knew why he’d kept who he really was from you for so long. He wasn’t a coward, he wasn’t hiding behind a mask because he thought you were shallow enough to shun him.

He was hiding because as soon as you got wrapped up in Toman, your life could be at risk.

Having no way to fight or protect yourself, being associated with Toman would only make you a walking target. Being involved with a gang was unpredictable. Some real sick fucks roamed these streets.

There’s no telling what one miscalculation would result in your inevitable pain.

Emma, Mikey’s own sister, had been held at knifepoint more than once. Attacks against her have been made more than Baji even knew. But no matter what, Mikey was always there to protect her and ensure her safety.

Could Baji say the same? He wasn’t sure if that was a promise he could keep. Baji is protective by nature, but throwing you into that life without giving you fair warning would be cowardly.

It was easier to end what wasn’t meant to continue.

“It doesn’t matter if you accept me or not.” He felt himself fall into poker face, acting harshly neutral. “I won’t let you throw yourself in my life just cause it seems fun. Our crowds don’t walk the same streets, y/n.” He hissed, hardened eyes hiding behind the thick rims.

Baji has never used this tone with you before.

You were bound to be scared of him now, (right?).

“I respect how smart you are, but you’re looking to get yourself killed. I won’t be apart of it.” He said finally, his things gathered and stature towering over you when he walked past you and out the door.

You didn’t even get a word in before he was slamming the door behind him.

It hurt to swallow, but he kept telling himself that he was doing the right thing, keeping you at arms length.

He wasn’t smart. He didn’t stop Kazutora before he made that irreversible mistake— to shoulder so much guilt. Baji hasn’t noticed that the bike shop Kazutora led him to was Shin’s shop. If he was just a little smarter and noticed that obvious thing, he could have saved Shin—- saved Kazutora!

… This is how he saves you, right?

This was fine, this was the intended outcome. Baji could self study from now on.

To hide this gnawing guilt, he buried it deep, deep, deep down.

Toman has a fight tonight after all.

The perfect stress relief.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Chifuyu had always wanted to be a wingman, and after he realized Baji’s crush on you, he was eager to spring into action. You were innocent and cute, opinionated yet kind. Quick witted and perceptive. Chifuyu knew you were struggling to keep your patience with Baji.

That’s why, when Baji made his dramatic exit, Chifuyu’s snooping-self quickly snuck in to evaluate the damage. And just as he’d guessed, you were left flabbergasted and flooded with frustrated tears.

“P-please wait! Before you judge him too harshly, let me speak!” He stammered. He’d never spoke more than a few pleasantries to you before now, yet there he was, desperately trying to make a case in Baji’s defense.

It took a little explaining, but without giving too much of the situation away, Chifuyu had managed to get you to agree to follow him. He promised on his life that he was trust worthy, and honestly, you believed him.

So that’s how you found yourself in audience of a bunch of thugs gathered for mischief just ahead of you. A long row of motorbikes rangling the boys into formation.

You weren’t sure where to spot Baji, his dead give away glasses being no where in sight. Still, Chifuyu promised that if you kept your eye out for his own blonde bowl cut, you’d spot Baji not far behind.

Before you could get a proper gander, you noticed two thugs from each opposing side came to the middle of the parking lot to speak, before ultimately calling for war.

You had guessed Baji was associated with some kind of shady pass time, as he did have a very intimidating presence, and he often boasting about his excellent skill of martial arts. To think he would put it to use like this was… <3

As you stood watching the scene unfold, you took a moment to consider if your lack of shock at the situation playing out should concern you or not. Were you more desensitized, or impressed….

You were taken out of that train of thought when a deafening roar almost shook the ground you stood. A scream that loud could only be made by a rage filled monster. And rage filled it was, Baji Keisuke’s patience had finally ran out, unable to swallow back that guilt he pushed so far deep. All the vulnerable sides of him he accidentally let you see—- revealed in those rare moment of gentle hand touches and kindness you gave him unconditionally.

He knew Your gentle hands would become soiled before long. His bruised knuckles would start to stain you.

Forgetting about you was for your best interest.

His hair was uncontainable, hair-tie snapping before the fight had even begun. His eyes were piercing and sharp, ferocious and merciless to anyone who met his gaze.

He stood out like a wild beast amongst helpless prey.

Baji wielded a wicked grin that took up most of his face, screaming out insult after curse as his fists broke skin and bone alike. He was ferocious. Unstoppable and feral.

It was normal to run in fear of such a creature, yet you….<33

“Hey hey hey! What’ve we got here?” Sing-songed a delinquent who did not share the same black and gold uniform your classmates had on.

No one noticed this interaction at first, but your shrill shriek seemed to alert others tenfold. It was an unspoken rule that if there’s a girl’s scream, you intervene.

“I don’t recognize that school uniform, what’re you spyin around us for huh? Want in on the action?” The delinquent held you in place between your collar and the wall behind you, his grip harsh enough to rip some of the cloth.

Any do-gooder would easily have stepped in to put the sicko in his place, for pulling an uninvolved girl into a beef like this one, but no one dared move.

Because there was a sick, cold, heavy air that swept the parking lot. A nauseous feeling that made any man back down. Everyone felt it. And Toman knew damn well to get the Hell out of Baji Keisuke’s way.

Chifuyu let out a yelp when he noticed he had pretty much made you a hostage, putting you directly in harms way. But you wanted to see who the real Baji Keisuke was so badly, and Chifuyu didn’t mean for it to turn out like this— and no amount of reason would spare Chifuyu from the beating he was sure to receive once Baji learned the truth of how you ended up here in the first place.

But with having no further context, Baji’s intense rage was fueled with worry for your safety. ‘Why the hell is she here? Did she follow me or something?’

Baji spat, dead focus not leaving your squirming form. The way you squirmed in the offenders grasp seriously made him feel like puking. The way your eyes desperately darted around to look for him broke his heart. So helpless, so scared… Any bit of restraint he had left suddenly no longer existed.

“Baldys got a death wish, eeeehhhhh?!” Baji graveled his most intimidating roar as the distance became shorter and shorter, reaching your side at sound-breaking speed.

Before the bold delinquent who had a hold on you could react, he was already being slung backwards. Gravity corrected you quickly, and you hissed when your knees met the ground below. Baji’s attention was solely focused on killing this stupid sack of shit.

Chifuyu came following after, helping you to your feet as you stare in awe. “C-come on, let’s get you somewhere safe-“ he tried guiding you toward an escape route, but you refused.

You remained rooted in place while you watched Baji wail on the poor guy. The force of his punches shook the offending delinquent’s whole body, head to toe. Punch after punch, his fists grew bloody.

Minutes passed, and the man before you had long lost consciousness. Still, Baji’s assault remained uninterrupted.

Surely he had lost feeling in his hands by now. The skin on his fist couldn’t even be identified as skin anymore, painted and dripping red.

You knew that when that block head was lost in thought, like he was now, you could never get his attention with words.

When you would study together, and he’d all but forgotten your presence, the only way to get his attention…

So, unfaltering, you laid one hand along the back of the blood stained monster protecting you. Without fear, you gently wrapped your other hand around his wrist. Immediately he froze.

The night was silent. Your lone whisper broke the tense atmosphere. “Baji,”

Finally getting his attention, Baji slowly turned his head to look you face to face. Eye to eye.. as though it really was for the first time.

Damn the ‘love at first sight‘ troupe. Baji called bullshit since preschool. But there was no better way to describe the unfamiliar feeling growing in his stomach.

Your expression was angel-like. Smile as kind as the heavens, moved with emotion. Looking him in the eye for the first time was also sending you into a vulnerable state. It was so pleasant feeling.

Baji couldn’t move, couldn’t breath, couldn’t think. You were literally stealing the breath out of his lungs.

Were you getting closer? Why did it feel like one side of his face was being cradled? Wait, were you—-

Your body moved on it’s own, unable to restrain yourself, until the very last second.

Baji could feel the gentle sigh of your breath against his lips, any sudden movement could mean life or death. He took a sharp breath in, but by the time he gathered his bearings, you weren’t kissing him like he thought you might, not on the lips at least.

Your lips gently rested on his sweat and blood stained forehead.

You parted, created distance shyly, and tried to glare at Baji. But it was impossible.

“I like the way you fight. Give it your all, Keisuke. You have to do well on tomorrow’s test, s-so try not to hit your head too much.” You quickly lectured, softly punching his shoulder, before awkwardly backing away. Grossly aware of your surroundings now, having All eyes on you was not a good feeling.

“U-um, anyway..! I’ll be rooting for you, s-so don’t lose!”

Baji hated thinking about his future.

But god. Damn.

He did know one thing.

You would be the death of him.

[kokonut3953]

“Go to bed, Goggles!” Insomniac!Varian X Reader

__________________________

Hi, my little marshmallows! Thank you to alchemicalwerewolf for the request! This post was SUPPOSED to go out 3 days ago, on Varian’s birthday, but it’s coming out of March 27 because I’ve been REALLY sick. Like. Im struggling here 😭😭😭…AAAANYWAYS. Let’s go!!

Y/N’s pronouns: They/them

Type: Fluff, angst

Warning: Swear words

DISCLAIMER: I’m not very knowledgeable about insomnia, I might get information wrong.

__________________________

You’re over at your boyfriend’s lab. It’s 2 am as of now and you’re *trying* to get him to go to sleep.

“C’mon, goggles. When was the last time you went to sleep? I’m asking seriously.” Y/N crosses their arms.

“Hmmm…I went to bed three days ago…that’s enough, right?”

“N-No, it’s really not…” Y/N just stares.

“It’s enough for me, sweetie! I’m not even tired!” He yawns.

“V, you’re yawning. Of course you’re tired. You can’t just ignore your needs.”

“Oh please, (nickname)! I’ll be fine, no worries! It’s all worth it for alchemy!” Varian takes a sip of the hot cocoa that Y/N made for him.

“Varian, you know I can’t let you fuck around and find out what happens with no sleep. You’re going to pass out in the daytime. That’s what always happens to me. I know you only sleep like- once a week. And you know I can’t let you do that.”

Varian lets out a small yawn. “Even so, I can almost never go to sleep. I…I just can’t. Even if I could, I can’t yet. Not while my father is still encased.” An angry look is plastered on his face.

“Varian…please, listen to me. I…no matter what you do, I will stand beside you. But I can’t see you push yourself like this. You can work on freeing your dad tomorrow, okay?” Y/N brushes Varian’s hair out of his face. “Please, goggles? Go to bed?”

“Y/N…I-I’m sorry, but I can’t listen to you. I know what’s right. I’m going to free my father, I don’t care how long it’ll take. I’ll sacrifice weeks worth of sleep before I even think of going to bed for 8 hours.”

He mixes up a chemical, before pouring it on the amber…he waits. “C’mon…c-c’mon-please…” Y/N and Varian watch closely. The chemical evaporates, not doing anything. Varian’s body tenses up, before tears roll down his face. He pounds his fist on the amber.

“FUCK! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK.” As Varian pounds his fist on the amber, he starts to bleed. Y/N drags him away.

“Goggles! You’re going mad! You’re not yourself right now!” Y/N grabs and hugs him.

“No…no…no no no nonononono…i-it’s not…why didn’t it work? I-I-It was supposed to work. It’s not right. I-It’s not…” Varian just stares at the chemical.

After hyperventilating for a bit, Varian hugs back.

“Y/N…I didn’t want to tell you this, but…I’m scared.”

“Scared?”

“Terrified. What if…what if I never see my father again? What if…he’s stuck here f-for years? The rest of my life, even?” *Varian starts shaking.

Y/N removes their headphones and puts them on Varian. “Varian, I know you’ll see your dad. I know you’ll find a way. You’re so smart. You can do it, I believe in you. But…out of good conscience, I can’t let you do this without going to bed. Please, Varian.”

Varian pauses “W-Will you cuddle me before I sleep?”

Y/N smiles, before kissing his cheek. “Of course I will. I won’t leave you.”

“Then…fine. I’ll go to bed…”

“Good.” Y/N picks up the 5’2 (A/N: I’M NOT JOKING, HE’S 5’2…GOOGLE IT.) boy and leads him to bed. They cuddle him tightly. Kissing his forehead.

Though Varian finds it extremely difficult, he starts drifting off to sleep.

Y/N and Varian fall asleep together. Varian sleeps for the first time in three days.

__________________________

Oooookay! We are done! alchemicalwolf, I hope that was good enough! I haven’t been writing fics for too long, oneshots are a bit tricky to me. I will get better with time!!!!

Soooo everyone, please give me more requests (in either the comments or my ask box) so I can write for you guys and improve my writing! Bye-bye for now, my little marshmallows!

[pearwaldorf]

I have been trying to write this on and off for a while. I figure the second anniversary of the show is as fine an occasion as any to shove it out into the world. It is not everything I want to say about it, but I think the important bits are there.

It is a human impulse to be seen. To be told, through art, you are not alone. It is universal, but of special importance to people who are not well-represented in media (i.e. everybody who isn’t cis, white, able-bodied, skinny, and conventionally attractive).   

This show speaks to me as a queer person who figured things out later than most of my peers. (Not quite as late as Ed and Stede but not terribly far off either.) It’s not super common to see queer media address this, and I didn’t realize how much I needed that reassurance until I got it. That it’s okay to find these things any time in your life. To be told “A queer is never late, they’re always fashionably on-time.” 

They’re not my first canon queer ship. But they are the first ones where I knew it was true from the get-go. Multiple people assured me this was the case. And yet, I still didn’t believe it until I saw it with my own two eyes. This experience is not unusual for fans around my age.  

After I finished up season one, I laid in bed and cried. It’s not something I thought would affect me so much, but it feels like a weight I’d carried so long I didn’t realize it wasn’t supposed to be part of me is gone.

One of the reasons people unfamiliar with the fandom seem to think it’s absolutely crazy (which some of it is, to be fair, but every fandom has that) is the way fans of the show get extremely super intense about it. It took me a few weeks to realize this is a trauma response. I’m not even sure “trauma” is the right word. It doesn’t interfere with my day to day function, but it lasted for years. Decades. So it was definitely something that fucked me up. And in the way you can only start to see something as you’re moving past it, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to get my head around this. (I don’t know if I have anything to say about it yet. Maybe I need more time to sit with it.)

I know this sounds contrary, but I’m really glad David Jenkins does not come from fandom. Sometimes it’s good to know where a line is, and others it’s better to not know there’s a line at all. And this is, sad to say, remarkable to somebody who has had to deal with this for so long. With so many writers and showrunners aware of the line, and getting right up next to it, but never crossing it.

Imagine doing a show with a queer romance and not understanding why this was received with such emotion and fervor, because it’s just two people in love right? What blissful ignorance that this needed to be explained to him! And then he listened to people’s experiences with queerbaiting, and went “Oh my god you thought I was going to do WHAT?” And then you go “Huh. That is really fucked up.” 

The problem with being told something enough, even though you know it’s wrong, is you start to believe it regardless. All the excuses and hedging. It’s so very difficult to do they tell us, when we hear from queer creators how they had fight tooth and nail to make it as gay as it already was. 

And then comes Jenks, just yeeting it out there: majority queer and (not and/or. and) POC cast, an openly non-binary person playing an openly non-binary character. The ability to not have to make one queer (and/or) POC character speak for everybody, so you can inject a tiny bit of nuance into the conversation. The way you can tell more kinds of stories, like the one where the smol angry internalized homophobe comes into his own with the support of a queer community, even though he was a giant fucking asshole to them before.

So many people were like “You can just DO that? It’s really that easy?” And wasn’t that a fucking Situation, to have that curtain pulled aside. What next? Majority POC casts with stories about POC written by POC? Absolute madness. (Please please watch The Brothers Sun on Netflix. It’s so fucking good.) 

And people will scoff and say “Of course a cishet(?) white man would be able to get this pushed through.” But do they usually? The thing I don’t think people understand about allies is they use their privilege to wedge the door open. You still have to do the work to get through, but at least you have a place to start. And it really fucking matters.

The press keeps trying to tell me The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin is the OFMD substitute we need while we float in the gravy basket. I’m sure it’s a perfectly fine show, but I don’t know who has watched OFMD and decided the itch we needed scratched was anachronistic historical comedy.

I want stories written by people that reflect their lived experiences, with actors and crew committed to bringing that to life. And I would like streamers and studios to commit to giving them a chance, and marketing them properly so people know they exist. 

You can keep people satisficed with scraps for only so long. At some point, somebody is going to give them a whole seven course dinner and people will wonder why they’ve been putting up with starving this entire time.

[my-castles-crumbling]

I have a problem Cas… I think im in love. 

Okay so, there’s this girl. We’ve been best friends like 5 years. I mean i’ve always- okay I don’t know how to explain this. 

I’m basically a fan-fiction come to fucking life. 

So i’m Demisexual, and last year I decided to come out to my family. I don’t know if other Demi ppl have preferences of gender, but I don’t. Honestly labels confuse me. I’m not sure if technically i’m Biromantic and Demisexual but hey, the point is- and what I explained to my family- that i’d be open to dating anyone. 

Basically i was telling them I wasn’t straight. (Obviously Demisexual is also about sexual activities and people and stuff but I wasn’t gonna try and explain to my parents that I don’t really get attracted to random ppl- cause they don’t get it- and I didn’t want to accidentally start talking abt sex). 

So anyway, they were not happy. Have you watched Brooklyn Nine-Nine? There’s this clip where the character Rosa comes out as Bi and her parents are like “That’s okay, since you can still date a man and marry a man and be normal” and they were like that for me (i’m a girl in case that wasn’t obvious- so they wanted me to date a man).

And I didn’t really care to be honest. I had an equal level of straight friends to queer friends, I felt suitably in both worlds. I truly love my family. They’ve always been good to me. But they did imply if I did end up with a girl, they wouldn’t want to meet/know her.

Not to mention the religious trauma. I spent a shit ton of time listening to ppl tell me that same-sex marriage and relationships are a “sin”. Hell- there was this one rlly lovely women at church when I was like 9, but she got kicked out when they congregation found out she was a lesbian. (Okay- not kicked out but like bullied into leaving).

So it was fine for me to accept that I could potentially date a women since i’ve never felt immediate attraction to anyone, it never felt totally real. 

BUT NOW I HAVE A PROBLEM. So my best friend (who is also a girl) of 5 years. She’s amazing. She’s literally the funniest person i’ve ever met, she’s so generous and has helped me so much, and she’s just adorable. She’s like fucking sunshine. And ngl, I don’t often like people who are so cheery all the time because it feels fake and I like people around me to be honest. 

But she just, she has this way of finding the beauty in the stupidest things and it’s so cute. We got splashed by a car the other day, drenched both our outfits, and instead of being mad, she got all excited and had us do a photoshoot in our crazy soaked clothes, and then got all excited that we could cuddle under a duvet and watch a movie with snacks once we got home cause apparently that’s the only acceptable thing people can do after being covered in water (which is exactly what we did).

And she’s not unreasonably happy, you know? Like when people try to cheer people up at bad times and make everyone more sad, she’s not like that. Whenever i’m upset, or mad, she’ll doodle these cute little flowers on coloured paper and write things she loves about the world on the back of them, and once i’m done ranting abt how annoying the world is, she’ll give it to me and smile. She has the best smile.

I have this jar, I write the date on them and put the paper in the jar. 

We’ve been best friends five years, she started doing that like four years ago and i’ve had the jar pretty much from the start. 

It’s always been easy to be around her. We sort of knew each other for like a year, and then I blinked, and we were best friends. I read all the books she gives me even though the plot is super cheesy cause she loves talking about them, I learnt how to bake all her favourite snacks her mum made, cause she’s pretty far from home and honestly a tragic baker. And she cooks dinner (don’t ask how she can’t bake to save her life but is the most incredible cook, it’s unbelievably ridiculous) for us a lot, she learnt to make my fav food. 

We technically live together, we’re at the final year of uni (maybe not tho depending on our next courses, I dunno) so we’ve been living together this year, but before that, I basically spent most of my time around her place anyway.

So yeah, we’re friends. But I realised a few months ago that i’m pretty, definitely, in love with her. I think i’ve felt like this for about a year and it just hadn’t quite clicked yet. 

(I had this awful day and came back to our place to see her genuinely painting our wall a different colour of white. She paints as a hobby and accidentally splatter a ton of blue paint on the wall and freaked out and tried buying white paint to cover it when it wouldn’t wash of and she was sat on the floor with white paint all over her and the wall still blue. 

She told me the story and I burst out laughing. I explained you often need white primer first, to cover the blue, and then to buy the correct shade of white, since ours was sort of chill white and she’d bought bright white. 

It’s the type of thing that would’ve annoyed me so much at the end of such a tough day, but because it was her, I just found it adorable. That’s when it clicked, I love her. She noticed I was tired immediately and felt bad cause she realised i’d had a bad day. I said this cheered me up, cause it did. Then we made dinner together and spent the night reading on the sofa with music on. 

We went to the shop the next day to get the correct stuff and luckily our wall is back to looking almost exactly the same). 

So yeah, I love her. Plus like, being demi, I don’t usually find ppl attractive… I mean i’ve always known she’s aesthetically pleasing, she has good fashion sense and stuff, but like, I tend to view all people as the same sort of level of attractive. BUT NOW ITS LIKE- SHES FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. It’s kind of annoyingly actually. How is everyone not spending all day gazing at her eyes. They’re fucking caramel, like a book character. She says they’re brown but she’s wrong. In dull lighting they seem brown but they’re like dark orange (amber i guess) with little hues of green, but in the sun they’re really bright and caramel and warm. 

She’s a lesbian btw. So theoretically I’ve got a shot. Also, i’ve always been good at reading people and I know she’s had like a small crush on me at least twice in our friendship. You can tell sometimes. 

But recently, it’s been a wreck. I’m so distracted cause i’m in love with her I can’t think, and my friends keep telling me she loves me back but I can’t keep my head on straight long enough to try and tell. 

But. If I do get my head out of my ass and tell her and she does end up wanting to date me, what the fuck am I supposed to do then. Cause if it does work out, i’m pretty sure it’ll last. 

My parents never totally liked her (they probably saw this coming- but I think in the homophobic, all queer ppl date each other, way and not the, they’re meant to be together, way) and if ended up having to tell them i’m actually dating a women, they’d be pissed. 

I always thought i’d end up with man, since it’s easier. No religious guilt about that. But I can put aside my own brains stupidity for her. But I can’t change my parents. But aside from this, they’re literally amazing. But I also know them and I truly don’t think they’ll change.

All my friends having been saying me and her should’ve been dating this entire time. I don’t know, I like to think now would be kinda perfect. I always knew she was gonna be in my life forever, I guess I just got so used to imagining myself with a man I forgot she was an option? That I could be with her romantically forever. You know, assuming she wants to date me.

(We’ll see about that. I’m really not sure. But i’m totally shit at keeping my own secrets so i’m planning to tell her soon if not just for the sake of my own sanity. All my friends say she’ll reciprocate, if she doesn’t, then I guess i’ll go from there, she’s not the type to be weird or bothered that we live together despite it. And if she does… then I have to decide what to do next. My other best friend is literally always right when it comes to our friends dating lives, and she has faith we’ll end up together, so we’ll see I guess) 

But if she does. If she does I’ll have to get into it with my family. I don’t want to lie to them. And I know I shouldn’t judge, but I honestly don’t think they’ll change their minds. I think they’ll say I can come visit whenever, but not bringing my partner. And I won’t want that. And we’ll all argue.  

I never liked knowing my parents didn’t accept this side of me, but I guess I never considered it would be an actual problem i’d have to deal with someday. 

I spend a lot of my time trying to figure myself out. I haven’t had the easiest path in life. But with her, it’s so easy. It’s easier to understand what I like, it’s easier to talk about things, and I fully trust her not to be weird. Or leave. Or get mad for nothing. I don’t have to walk on eggshells around her. I trust her. We don’t argue much. We have, what she calls, three different type of arguments. 

One, “bad mood argues”. She finds it so hilarious that it rhymes. You have to say it with the syllables. Bad-Mood Ar-Gues. We have these cookies in the freezer that we make every month. If one of us is having a bad day, we cook a few cookies to eat and I bought this dumb fridge magnet of a cookie to put on the fridge to signify it’s a cookie worthy bad day. 

Another one is “justifiable anger”. That doesn’t happen much. When we first met, she had this tendency to not tell me when I did something that upset her, and it’d spiral, and i’d be mad she wasn’t talking about why she was mad. So we have a rule to always talk about problems, even the little things. For example, her yelling into the phone to her family for hours while i’m trying to study- she has planned days now, so I can go to the library or she can go out if necessary, or keep the convo below 45 min, her mums like half deaf so she does have to shout, but it’s also VERY loud. Basically we comprise. And make sure no anger builds up.

The third type of argument is, what our friends call, “married idiots”. As in, she shouldn’t use the siri talk thingy while driving cause it never understands what she’s trying to say and so I get jumbled texts that mean nothing and then she thinks she’s told me something she hasn’t told me. She’s nearly understanding that one 🤦‍♀️ And you know, the classic colour of something argument (it’s purple- she’s wrong).  

Anyway. I forgot my point. Oh yeah, everything’s easier with her. I feel comfortable. If i’m being totally honest… i’m pretty sure if I ask her out, she’ll say yes. Like 80% sure. Im just scared to fuck this up, and cause family problems. Cause yeah, she’s worth the drama, but also, it’s her that’ll be being insulted right? She very likely won’t be allowed in my house. I don’t want this to ruin what we already have. 

So yeah. That. I could really do with some advice ❤️

Hi <3

If you do not ask this girl out, I will physically pass away.

Like...I'm not usually so pushy with asks, but you're describing a relationship, hon. This is a relationship. I'm not sure if you follow me because of the Marauders, but you two are literally Wolfstar, And I'm shipping the two of you so hard right now.

If, for some insane reason, she turns you down, it's because she doesn't realize she's in love with you, too.

As far as your family...again, I'm going to be more blunt that usual. You're going to have to face their lack of acceptance for you at some point. It's absolutely shit that they don't accept you, but like...don't let that stop you from being with this girl. Because even if you put off their feelings now, you'll have to deal with it someday, and then you might miss out on an amazing girl.

Please update me. I need updates. I am so invested. I am DYING for updates.

God, I'm rereading all the things you wrote and I'm kicking and giggling. You two are ridiculously adorable. Please kiss her already (with consent).

I'm naming you purple anon. Please write back.

[calaisreno]

Make a Choice

702 Words / Prompt: Choice

John’s therapist smiles. She’s the new one, he thinks. Or the one after that. Sometimes it’s hard to keep it all straight. 

“How are the wife and kids?” she asks. 

John sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “Here’s the thing. You ask me that about half the time. The other half, you ask me how my flatmate is, what crazy stuff he's got up to.”

She blinks, then frowns. “Do I?”

“Yes, you do. It’s like I’m two separate people to you. Two John Watsons.”

“Perhaps… you could say a bit more about that.” She’s fallen back into therapist-mode, and John knows it will be hopeless to explain. 

He will try, though. “This is what my life is: two non-intersecting realities. In one, I'm living in Clapham with Mary and my two kids, Rose and Hamish. I have pub nights with my old army buddies, started biking to work a few months ago, and work at a surgery, treating sniffles and rashes. Sort of boring, but it's what I always expected my life to be.”

She smiles, uncertain. “Yes, I remember. You’ve mentioned your friend Bill.”

“Right.” He leans forward, shaking his head at the absurdity. “But that’s just half of it. In the other life— well, let’s call it another reality. I have one life, split between these two. In the other reality, I'm living with Sherlock Holmes. I never know what's going to happen when I wake up each day. There will be a spleen in the sink, no milk in the fridge because it's all been used for an experiment, and Sherlock will either be nowhere in sight, or flopped on the sofa, taking up as much space as possible with his notes. We go out on cases a few times a month. I've been shot at, stabbed, and got some sort of fungal infection from whatever that was in the sugar bowl. Sort of crazy, but never boring.”

She’s biting her lip now. “John. It’s not unusual for PTSD to manifest itself in… well, imaginings.”

“You mean hallucinations. And that’s not what I’m saying. What I mean is that I am living two lives. The wife-and-kids one, and the Sherlock one. I never know which one I’m going to wake up to. And I have no idea why it’s happening.”

Notebook open, she’s writing something. Upside-down, he reads: possible psychosis.

“No, I don’t think that’s it,” he says. “I’m not psychotic. I always know which reality I’m in. I’m not confused. So, I'm wondering. You're the only factor common to both of these worlds. Do you realise what's happening to me? Is this... an experiment?”

Yesterday, when he explained this, she offered to schedule him in twice a week and send him to a sleep specialist. 

Today, in a different reality, she regards him with a half-smile. “Well, John, that’s a good observation. Very good. I would say that it’s time to make a choice.”

She holds a gun. 

...

His head is splitting. Sherlock is talking, and John is trying to make sense of it.

“Every decision point creates two parallel realities. Yes and no. Turn right, turn left. Go through the park, get on a bus. You’re not aware of all the consequences of your choices, but they exist, as real as the fact of your life—”

“The park,” he says. “I went through the park.” 

“I know.” Sherlock frowns. “Are you all right, John?”

“Of course I’m not all right—I’ve been shot!”

“Wrong. You’re concussed.” He leans over John, studying him like a specimen. “He hit you on the head and stole your wallet. Do you know who I am?”

“Of course I do. You’re my mad flatmate. And my therapist shot me.”

“Wrong. I’m your husband. And you don’t have a therapist.“

He closes his eyes. “I think some wires got crossed.”

Sherlock kisses him. “You’ll be fine.”

...

In a parallel reality, a thief is talking to his therapist.

“How are the wife and kids?” she asks.

He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “Here’s the thing. I stole this bloke’s wallet, and ever since, I’ve been living two lives.”

She smiles and leans forward. “Perhaps you could say more about that, John.”

@lisbeth-kk @keirgreeneyes @ninasnakie @raina-at @friday411

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can we get a sequel to the story of reader liking Pavitr, but Pavitr and Gayatri are happily together? Like Hobie or Gwen visit Pavitr and the reader meets them and they form a bond? romantic or platonic, reader just needs a buddy.

Thank you for everyone who wanted a part 2! Also this is kinda a long one so…I still hope you enjoy. 🦦

@sh-tposter2021 @thebiggestsimpoutthere @ii01vp

Part 1

It had been several weeks since you learnt of Pavitr and Gayatri’s relationship, and it’s been just as long since you’ve distanced yourself from Pavitr. While his absence was greatly felt and while there were times where you felt like being a hypocrite and run back to him, you had to remind yourself of why you were doing this in the first place; for the betterment of your own health and to remind yourself of who you were before ever meeting Pavitr because once upon a time there were chapters of your life that didn’t involve him.

You had to frequently remind yourself that you’ll be fine without Pavitr as he was seemingly fine without you now he had the prettiest girl in Mumbattan hanging off of his arm to fawn over, and all without having to take into account of how you felt about the public displays of affection that’d pierce your heart over. And over. And over again.

And yet while you’ve lead yourself to believe that Pavitr has seamlessly moved on without you, what you didn’t know was that Pavitr had been wanting you to meet his other friends, Hobie and Gwen, for a really long time now and even went as far as to set up the whole thing; only for it to come crushing down on him days later when you walked away from him with tears in your eyes and a forced smile. So when the day of your supposed get together came, Pavitr genuinely didn’t know what to tell Hobie and Gwen when he saw them. He didn’t want to send them away, that would be considered rude and disrespectful of the time that they had both set aside to be here, yet he didn’t want them to stay if you weren’t going to be there.

Fortunately and unfortunately for Pavitr, Gwen and Hobie could tell that during the period between their last visit to Mumbattan and now, something had to have happened for Pavitr’s demeanour to drastically change. ‘So where’s this y/n you’ve been talking our ear of about?’ Hobie asked, looking about the room as though you were going to pop out at them.

‘They’re not coming,’ Pavitr solemnly told them, ‘I’d like to think we’re still friends but it’s been so long since I’ve last seen them, that now…now I’m not so sure. I don’t want to loose my best fiend but I’m pretty certain they don’t want to talk to me.’ Pavitr then looked between his friends almost helplessly as he fiddles with the friendship bracelet that you made him out of habit. ‘All I wanna know is what I’ve done and how I can fix it.’ Gwen stepped forward and pressed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. ‘I’m sure they’re not mad at you Pav but I’m assuming they just wanted a little space to themselves.’ She told him but it didn’t seem to have helped at all.

‘We can go look for them and get the answer out of them that way?’ Hobbie said but before Pavitr could answer, he was reminded that he had a date with Gayatri later. The thought of his beautiful girlfriend made all his daily worries seep away from his mind as though she was the cleansing he required, there wasn’t a day where Pavitr didn’t count himself lucky in being able to date the most beautiful, amazing, most funniest girl; and he never fails to tells her every day how happy he was to be with her and be able to have the honour of calling her his. ‘Oh I can’t, I’ve got a date with my girlfriend Gayatri soon.’ Pavitr told Hobie.

‘Then how about me and Hobie go talk to them on your behalf?’ Gwen pitched.

‘But we don’t know where they’ll be right now.’ Hobie countered. ‘We’d waste the day away trying to look for them like we’re a bunch of headless chickens.’

‘We might not be on speaking terms but I do know where they’d like to be whenever they want to be left alone.’ Pavitr pipped up before telling the pair of the exact location before they parted ways; Hobie and Gwen to look for you whilst Pavitr went on his date with Gayatri.

Following Pavitr’s instructions, it didn’t take Hobie and Gwen long to find you sat on your lonesome upon a barren rooftop aside from a few weeds and bunches of moss that were growing up and through the cracks within the concrete. One look upon your worn out face told the pair that whatever happened between you and Pavitr took it’s toll on you a lot harder then it did Pavitr; not that they were saying that he wasn’t suffering but he had Gayatri, whereas you probably only had Pavitr to fall back on in times like this but now you probably had nobody. Both Hobie and Gwen were very familiar with the feeling of having nobody in your corner, so it was fairly easy for them to recognise the signs.

‘Is that them?’ Gwen asked Hobie, watching you as you looked out over the liveliness that filled the streets below with the vaguest look upon your face. Hobie shrugs, ‘must be, otherwise Pav wouldn’t have told us to come here if that weren’t the case.’

‘They look-‘

‘Lonely, yeah I agree.’ Hobie finished Gwen’s thought before he started moving towards you when Gwen called out to him. ‘What’re you doing?’ She asks and he looks back at her and said, ‘being a descent human being.’ Before continuing on his way towards you;only to be joined by Gwen not a moment later.

You weren’t fully aware of their presence until you felt Hobie seat himself at your left as Gwen seated herself at your right, but even even then you didn’t have it within you to remove yourself, the company of strangers felt nice to your aching soul because after all humans are social creatures that thrived off of having company. ‘Hey.’ Gwen said, catching your attention first. ‘Hi, I’m sorry but I don’t believe I’ve seen either of you here before.’ You told her, not wanting to come off as rude. ‘You’re right but we’re just paying our friend Pavitr a visit but he’s on a date right now and told us to come hang with you.’ Hobie answered and upon hearing Pavitr’s name, you tensed; Something both Hobie and Gwen both took notice.

‘If you’re here to get me into talking to him you can think again,’ you told them rather sternly, ‘I ain’t getting my heart broken twice.’ You added softer this time as you rested your head atop of your arms that were atop of your knees that you had tucked tight against your chest. ‘What did you mean by getting your heart broken twice?’ Gwen asked, looking over at Hobie who was already looking at her. You chuckled humourlessly as you felt tears once again well up in your eyes, you genuinely thought you were past crying over him but it seemed as though the wound your heart sustained was still bleeding. ‘I had a crush on him, Pavitr,’ you began, ‘but it was obvious that he liked Gayatri more and I don’t blame him, she’s gorgeous, funny, cool, sociable, smart and sweet. It just got to the point where being with him while he was still openly pinning after her was physically hurting me and I didn’t want to complicate things all because I can’t regulate my feelings.’ You finished, feeling slightly better to have finally let it out rather then inside like you had.

So this was the thing that happened between you and their friend. You liked him to the point where you selflessly removed yourself so that your feelings didn’t jeopardise his dream relationship with Gayatri but in the process, you cut yourself off from the only support you ever had in your life and now you were paying the price by suffering through all your emotions on your own. ‘I’m sorry, neither of you should have to be on the receiving end of my grievances.’ You said after a couple minutes of silence, but that soon came to an abrupt halt when Hobie slugged his arm over your shoulder and brought you into his side as Gwen reached out to hold your hand within her own. ‘Don’t ever say sorry for things that ain’t under your control,’ Hobie started, squeezing your shoulder, ‘and besides we’re the ones who asked about it in the first place. So don’t ever feel as though you have to apologise for everything, alright?’ You hummed in response.

‘Hobie’s right, I’m sorry that I made you brought this up.’ Gwen told you, just about to let go of your hand, but you were quick to tighten your hold in a silent plea for her to not go as you shot her a weak smile. ‘It’s not your fault,’ you told her, ‘it was bound to come up and if anything I’m glad you did because had you not I was beginning to get scared that it would come out at the wrong place at the wrong time. So instead I should be thanking you, both of you and I haven’t gotten either of your names yet.’

‘Oh right, well I’m Gwen Stacy,’ Gwen introduced herself before gesturing towards the lad who still had you coddled into his side, ‘and this is my friend Hobie Brown.’

‘Hi.’ You said tearfully as a smile beamed across your face.

‘Hiya yourself.’ Hobie replied as he wiped away some of your tears. ‘Despite crying you’re heart out, you still find it within you to smile. Now that’s a power I ain’t ever seen before and I find it admirable because it tells me that not only are you selfless but strong too.’ He adds and you couldn’t help but feel more tears arise to the surface, causing you to avert you gaze. ‘I’m sorry.’ You said weakly as Gwen felt her heart break for you as Hobie held onto you tighter whilst softly shushing you. ‘Please don’t ever apologise for having emotions.’ Gwen told you as an idea popped into her head as she adds on, ‘would you like to getaway with us? Do something to take your mind off of Pavitr?’ You looked at her before looking at Hobie who, in his mind, had already taken you under his wing and was on board with whatever Gwen had in mind.

‘Only if it’s alright with you guys, I don’t want to intrude on anythin-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Hobie had already begun to stand up before then proceeding to dragging you up along with him, whilst also managing in keeping you under his arm. ‘It’s too late, you’re apart of us now y/n, there is no such thing as intruding in anything when you’re with us.’ Hobie states as Gwen caught up with you two with a smile on her face, revealing her gap tooth as she nudged your side. ‘Your stuck with us now, how terrible is that?’ She joked and you couldn’t help but smile back at her, feeling deep inside that everything was going to be okay now that you had Hobie and Gwen. ‘Yeah, what a terrible fate I’ve been doomed to.’ You joked equally.