#like what final chapter did y'all read 😭

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 6)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

4.9k words

Warnings: Language, mean & jealous Roy (in a good way), evil ex-boyfriend, rough sex, Roy feeling angsty, fingering, some cum play, hickies, Roy being kind of a dom

@agentstarkid brain rot, brain rot, brain rot

A/N: Y'all this has to be THE horniest writing I have ever done 😭

Series Masterlist

“Hey Roy, you going to Belgium?”

Roy furrowed his brows at Isaac as the captain, Jamie, and Sam all looked at him expectantly “Belgium?” he repeated.

Sam nodded. “For the race,” he added, as if Roy should know exactly what he was talking about.

The manager’s deepening frown told the boys that he did not.

Jamie sighed impatiently. “Your girlfriend, Grandad. We’re going to go watch her. She was telling us all about it in Leeds, and then when she was in Richmond, she gave Keeley the tickets and stuff to give Isaac. You’re going, aren’t ya?”

Belgium. Roy’s stomach sank a little as the guys began chattering about their plans, how excited they were to watch the race, the parties they’d been promised. He knew you had another race coming up, but you hadn’t mentioned a word of it to him. Of course, if you’d asked, he’d have gone. The Greyhounds had a bye that weekend, meaning he was completely free to go, to root for you, to share another bottle of scotch in some extravagant hotel suite. It would make sense for you to ask him to go; after all, he was clearly interested in racing, and, more importantly, he was clearly more interested in you. He’d tried not to read too much into the lack of invitation; but fuck, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping for a simple hey, come meet me in Belgium during one of the many texts you’d sent him.

And now, hearing that you’d explicitly excited his team… well fuck.

“Come with us, Roy,” Isaac insisted.

He cleared his throat, desperately trying to play it off. “Dunno. Probably got Phoebe, need to catch up on shit at home-”

Another sigh from Jamie. “Come on, Coach. Just admit you want to see your girlfriend and fuckin’ come with us!”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Roy hadn’t meant for it to come off as a harsh growl, but that’s definitely what came out of his mouth. “Once again, we barely fucking know each other.”

The smirk on Jamie’s face was nothing short of punchable. “Then why d’you text her all the damn time?”

“Do not,” Roy lied.

Of all the players, Sam was one of the last Roy would’ve expected to tease him. “You’re blushing, Roy.”

He rolled his eyes, dying to get out of this conversation. “If I agree to come,” he mumbled. “Will you all shut the fuck up?

The three players looked at each other before breaking into a trio of mischievous grins.

Finally, Isaac opened his mouth. “No promises.”

~

Roy Kent looked good.

Who were you kidding? Roy Kent always looked good. Your mouth was practically watering as you watched him chat with the Greyhounds he stood with in the garage, rolling his eyes at something one of them said.

So, you hadn’t actually invited Roy to come to your race, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hoping he’d be there. After all, when you’d sent Keeley the tickets for the boys, you’d included an extra one, encouraging Isaac to invite “whoever”. Knowing Jamie had been teasing Roy about you, you knew exactly who they’d be bringing.

Watching his eyes dart around, obviously looking for you, you couldn’t resist the urge to go over and say hi. The two of you had fallen asleep on the phone a couple more times since that phone call, there’d been lots of texts sent back and forth, and Roy was even figuring out how to send selfies. And now he was here, in Belgium, surprising you. Tearing down that wall you’d built around your heart, brick by brick.

Feeling a bit like a teenage girl approaching the most popular boy in school, you turned around, so Roy wouldn’t see the way you tightened the knot of your half-down racing suit and lifted your shirt a smidge to give that little peek of skin. After giving your hair a quick touch, you turned around, ready to put on that confident smirk and go say-

“Hey there.”

Your face completely fell at the sight of that horribly gorgeous smile. “Ian,” you murmured, taking a step back, away from your ex-boyfriend, who you were sure hadn’t been in a paddock in about a year, let alone less than a foot away from you like he was now. “What’re you doing here?”

His smile widened, planting a knot in your stomach. “Here to see you, of course.”

“Oh.” Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, where you could see Roy beginning to turn his head a bit more obviously, growing anxious to see you already. “Well, thanks.”

Thankfully, one of your engineers, familiar with the panicked look that Ian Novak’s beautiful face often inspired, hustled over with some excuse to get you away from the model. As you let yourself be led away, you turned your gaze, finally locking eyes with Roy Kent. The corner of his perfect mouth ticked upwards as he offered a small nod in greeting, eyebrows raised playfully. Normally, the sight would have you pressing your thighs together and thinking of all the sinful things you wanted to do with him. Instead, you looked away from those brown eyes as quickly as you could.

Fuck. Roy Kent could hurt you, couldn’t he? If Ian Novak, devilish man he was, could manage to make you feel adored and comfortable enough that the heartbreak he gifted you was the most devastating pain you could imagine, what was Roy Kent, with his soft brown eyes and half smiles and hands that both excited and cherished you, capable of? How shattered would you be if he decided he was done with you?

Maybe you didn’t want to find out.

~

For the millionth time that weekend, Roy wondered what he’d done wrong. All he’d received from you was a quick hello when the guys insisted on going to say hey to you. No flirting. No bedroom eyes. No electric touches. And definitely no teasing implications about ending up in bed together.

Not exactly what he’d expected.

He kept trying to catch your eye when the two of you were in the same room, but you kept looking away every time he succeeded. This wasn’t the behavior of someone excited to see him, and especially not the behavior of someone looking forward to sleeping with him.

As he lost track of his beers and contemplated leaving the party being held to celebrate your win, he saw Jamie perk up, his eyes flickering between Roy and somewhere behind him. Before Jamie could give him a warning, Roy turned around.

It was like someone’d punched him and knocked the fucking wind out of him. There you were, stunning in a Ferrari-red dress and matching lipstick, looking up at some disgustingly pretty man, who gazed at you like, well, like how Roy looked at you. He turned back to Jamie, immediately hating the pitiful look on the striker’s face.

“That’s her ex-boyfriend,” Jamie murmured, taking a sip of his own beer. “Model.”

“The one that fucking cheated on her?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “For ‘barely know each other’ you sure know a good bit about her, Roy. Maybe-”

Roy scowled. “Keeley talks too much,” he mumbled before taking a long swig of his beer. He looked over his shoulder again; that man’s hand was on your lower back, where Roy’s hand should have been. “Looks like a prick,” he huffed.

“Oh, he definitely is,” Jamie agreed. “And that’s me saying that. Not sure why she’d give him the time of day.” He punched Roy’s arm playfully. “Especially with Roy Kent in the room.”

After rolling his eyes at Jamie’s compliment, Roy nodded towards the door that led to the hallway connecting the venue to the rest of the hotel. “Going to get some air,” he muttered, ignoring the protests of his players.

Because he was so busy skulking off, Roy missed watching you with your ex.

“What are you doing?” you hissed, shoving Ian’s hand off of your waist. “In case you’ve forgotten, we broke up, remember?”

His lopsided smile was too familiar. “Just congratulating you on a job well done. You were great today, babe.”

Babe. When Roy Kent called you that, it’d made your heart- and something else- flutter. But when Ian Novak called you that, it made your blood run cold. You reached out and pushed him further away.

“I’m not your babe.”

Slipping away from the embrace he tried, you briskly left the party venue, eyes stinging as you made your way to the deserted hallway. Who cared if you’d won and were the guest of honor? All you wanted was to get up to your room, get out of this dress, put on-

Roy’s eyes locked onto yours. He was in that same hallway, leaning against a wall and looking like the dictionary definition of melancholy. His stupid old heart nearly stopped at the sight of you, then twisted when he saw all the hurt your eyes carried. He pushed himself up off the wall as you got closer, your hands fidgeting; he wasn’t used to seeing you so… gloomy.

“’s wrong with you?” he muttered once you were standing in front of him. “Boyfriend problems?”

Your frown deepened. “Boyfriend…?” It dawned on you. “Oh, fuck. Ian.”

Roy nodded, his eyes practically made of steel. “Yeah. Ian,” he spat. “What, you get sick of him already?” He knew he sounded jealous and resentful, two things he wasn’t sure he had the right to be. But he didn’t care; not when he’d come all this way just to see you with some other prick.

“Listen,” you sighed. “Roy-”

He shook his head, not caring if you saw the hurt and anger in his eyes. “No. It’s fine. I fucking get it.” He gulped. “He’s a model. His knees probably fucking work. Probably even knows how to smile.” He cleared his throat. “Stupid, coming to fucking Belgium,” he mumbled. “You didn’t even fucking want me here.”

“I did,” you yelped, probably quicker and louder than you should have. “I mean, I do. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Funny way of showing it,” he grunted, not letting you see the way your words had his heart hammering. No, Roy was still pissed. “Ignoring me all fucking weekend.”

You nodded, face aflame. “Yeah. No, that’s true.” You took a tentative step towards Roy. “But I’m glad you’re here. Really glad,” you insisted as you pressed your body to his, eyebrows raised meaningfully.

“Yeah. Well.” He averted his gaze, knowing that the familiar look in your eye would have him dropping this little resentment.

“Roy,” you cooed, letting your hands wander up his chest, not caring if someone walked by and saw you embracing the brooding manager. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

Oof. Apparently that was not the thing to say based on the fiery look in his eye. But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t excite you, especially when he reached up to grab your jaw.

“Jealous?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You think I’m jealous?”

You gulped. Actually fucking gulped. And that little movement had Roy’s scowl replaced with the sexiest smirk you’d ever seen. His grip was firm; not painful, but definitely strong. For the number of times you’d hooked up, you’d never seen his eyes so dark, filled with a mixture of irritation and lust. It had you rubbing your thighs together, not caring if Roy noticed.

And Roy definitely noticed.

His eyes flickered over your shoulder for a brief moment before settling on your parted lips.

“Let’s go.”

Keeping his grip on your jaw, he pushed you backwards, opening a door behind you and guiding you into a deserted women’s bathroom. He quickly locked the door and moved a vanity chair under the handle, clearly planning on being in here for a while. Once privacy was secured, his eyes were on you again.

“Jealous,” he repeated, a scoff now. “Fucking jealous.”

He walked you back until your ass hit the row of sinks, the cold stone penetrating through your tight dress. His hands found the spot on your upper thigh where dress met bare skin, his fingers dipping just under the soft material to grip your flesh roughly, tugging the hem of your dress up around your hips.

Instinctively, you threw your head back at his touch, feeling electricity follow his fingertips as they brushed over your skin. Roy’s hand immediately was on your jaw again, tugging you to face him.

“Watch,” he demanded in a low voice.

With a whimper that was more from arousal than anything else, you obeyed. You watched as he brought his hands over your hips and slowly rolled down your panties, letting them drop in a little pool of lace around your ankles. He placed one hand on your hip with a bruising grip as the other hand came to your already drenched pussy. When one finger traced your slit, you had to use all your concentration to keep yourself from throwing your head back in pleasure.

“So fucking wet,” Roy groaned, adding another finger as he slowly caressed your soaking lips. “Who’s that for? Your pretty boy ex?”

Not caring about looking desperate, you frantically shook your head. “You, Roy,” you murmured, your voice breathy. “All for you.” You leaned forward to capture his lips in a kiss, to assure him with your mouth that he was all you wanted, but he shook his head.

“Thought I told you to watch.”

No man had ever spoken to you this way. Most guys tried so hard to be smooth, or romantic, or cool. No one had ever been so possessive, so jealous. No one had ever stared at you with such an intensity. And no man had ever turned you on so fucking much.

Obediently, you tilted your head back down to watch as Roy slipped those two fingers inside you, setting a rough, mean pace that already had you gripping the sinks so hard your knuckles turned white. His thumb began stroking harsh circles on your clit, adding to the overwhelming pleasure.

“You better keep fucking watching,” he grumbled before his mouth attached to your neck, kissing with more tongue than lip, leaving a slobbery path over your skin.

Even with his eyes off of your face, you did as you were told. You watched those two firm fingers pump in and out of you, curling upwards in that way Roy did that had you squirming in your now wobbling high heels. The only thing keeping you upright was this sink and Roy’s harsh grip.

Roy grunted when he hit a particularly deep spot and felt you clench around his fingers. “You really hurt my fucking feelings,” he growled against your neck, giving a soft bite to the sensitive skin. “Ignoring me while you paraded around in that little fucking racing suit. Looking like a fucking goddess.” His thumb pressed down on your clit, provoking a sharp whine from you. “Like my fucking Empress.”

“Yours, Roy,” you groaned as your hips stuttered against his hand, your climax rapidly approaching. “All fucking yours.”

And you meant it. You really fucking meant it.

“Damn right you’re mine,” he grunted, adding a third finger to your sopping cunt. “And I want to feel you come just for me.”

Apparently, his wish was your command.

Something deep within you snapped, and you felt yourself tighten around his fingers, so tight that his third finger slipped out. But he kept fucking you with his fingers relentlessly, finally moving his mouth to yours to swallow your lewd moans as you soaked his fingers with your release.

“Good fucking girl,” he mumbled against your mouth as your vision went blurry; the only thing you could focus on was the trembling pleasure Roy gave you. “His fingers ever make you come like this?”

Your orgasm rendered your speechless, so all you could do was give a little shake of your head, desperate not to lose the feeling of Roy’s lips against yours. His pumps slowed as you came down from your high; you let go of the sink and gripped his arms, needing some help with standing.

But Roy didn’t want you to stand.

“Turn around,” he growled, pulling his soaked fingers out of you. “Unless you’re fucking done with me? Hmm? Got what you wanted from me, yeah? Ready to go back to your little party and ignore me some more?”

You bit your lip as your eyes travelled down to the extremely noticeable bulge in his pants. When you looked back at his face, it was dark with desire.

“Need you,” you managed to croak out.

That was good enough for him. Not caring if he got your juices on your dress, he grabbed your hips and spun you around, pushing you down over the sink. Instinctively, you spread your legs, listening for the delicious sound of his zipper coming undone. Your entire body vibrated with pleasure as you felt his tip, already dripping with precum, press against your soaked core.

Roy brought his hand- the one soaked from your orgasm- to your face. “Open,” he demanded. When you opened your mouth, he stuck his two drenched fingers inside. “Don’t want anyone else hearing your pretty fucking sounds. Those are just for me, aren’t they?”

You nodded, moaning around his gorgeous fingers as you tasted your pleasure on him. Fuck, no wonder he was addicted to making you come, some dirty part of you thought. You were delicious.

Satisfied with the view before him, Roy slowly buried himself inside your soaked cunt with ease, his eyes staring into yours through the mirror with that same mix of lust and possessiveness.

“There she is,” he sighed as he set a harsh pace, his free hand on your back to keep you bent over for him. “My fucking Empress. Feel so fucking good. Just for me.”

A muffled “Mmm hmm” around his fingers was all you could manage as you bucked your hips back against him, drooling at the feeling of his hot skin against your bare ass. His cock felt perfect inside you, twitching and throbbing against your already spasming walls.

Eyes still on yours in the mirror, he lowered his mouth to your bare upper back and began leaving rough kisses all over your skin, sloppy and reckless, until those kisses became bites. Roy started sucking at the soft skin as he thrust into your slowly bruising sex over and over again, moaning against your back. When you clenched around him particularly tight, his tongue left a slow, deliberate trail across your skin, sending shivers down the spine he still had his hand on.

He groaned and gave a particularly stuttering jerk into you. “Should I mark you up?” he teased. “Show everyone who you belong to?” Using the fingers in your mouth as leverage, he made you nod slowly, as though you were his little toy. “Well, if you insist.” Rolling his hips harder, deeper, Roy returned to your back, sucking hard enough to make you whimper against the pads of his fingers. But the way you rocked into him assured him you liked it.

“Fucking look at you,” he moaned, giving you a bit of that hip action that had you seeing stars. “You ever been fucked like this, gorgeous girl? Bent over in a fucking bathroom, fingers in your mouth?” He brought his lips to your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. “Bet no pretty boy’s ever done this.” He started sucking on the spot behind your ear, that perfect little spot that had you mewling as you spasmed against him.

He slowly inched his fingers further into your mouth, prompting you to suck them with the same enthusiasm you would his cock. The sensation had him twitching inside you, desperate to paint your walls.

“You look so fucking perfect,” he muttered as he returned his mouth to your slowly purpling back, adding more beautiful little dark spots wherever he could reach. “My dirty Empress.” He licked over a bite mark he’d left, one he hoped you’d have for days. “You want to come for me, gorgeous?”

Your desperate nod had him groaning. He’d never seen anyone look so fucking desperate, needy, hungry for him. After being ignored by you all weekend, to have you bent over in a public bathroom, panties on the floor, mouth full of his fingers, all of it was driving him mad. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last, but he knew he needed to let you come first.

He needed to remind you about how he could make you feel.

He removed his fingers from your mouth, drooling a bit when he heard the little whine that escaped your now empty mouth. The hand on your hip came up to your beautiful neck, urging you to stand up with your back to his heaving chest.

When you wobbled, he tightened his grip, just enough to hold you steady. “I’ve got you,” he promised, planting a tender kiss to your neck. “’ve always got you.”

Roy brought those fingers- now sodden from both your cunt and mouth- to your pulsing clit, rubbing firm circles over the bundle of nerves.

“Roy,” you whimpered, gripping his arms with your trembling hands. “Please.”

He smiled, a real smile for the first time all weekend, as his cock continued to bruise your cunt. “Would you look at that,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “My Empress remembered her manners.” He pumped his cock as deep as he could, over and over, desperate to hit that one perfect little spot that would- “Oh, there she is.”

He watched with lewd pride as you fell apart in front of him, mouth open in a silent scream. Your whole body was drenched in sweat as you trembled, your knees buckling beneath you; the only thing keeping you upright was Roy. As your body quivered with pleasure, you slouched back over the sink, wondering vaguely how you were going to walk in the morning, let alone in the next few minutes.

“Such a good girl,” Roy cooed, his voice thick with a beautiful mix of mocking and adoration. “Now tell me what else you want.”

“Your cum,” was your automatic answer as your fingers traced over the cool faucet. “Please,” you begged, probably for the first time in your life. “Please fucking come for me.”

Roy’s devilish smile widened, setting your whole body on fire. “If my Empress insists.”

Whit his hands back on your hips, his thrusts became sloppy, no longer about making you feel good- although, the overstimulation did have your eyes rolling back. He gave a few harsh, bruising drives before you felt him fill you up with that delicious release; fuck, how you wished you could taste it. Pump after pump until you could feel it begin to leak down your thighs. You shivered when you felt Roy glide a single finger over your sticky thigh and bring a cum-covered finger to your lips.

“Taste.”

He didn’t need to order you; you would have automatically stuck out your tongue to get a taste of that tangy stickiness that now coated your throbbing pussy.

The room was filled with ragged breathing as he finally pulled out of you, still keeping a firm grip on you to keep you from falling.

Finally, you smirked at him through the mirror- or at least, as much of a smirk as you could manage.

“Fuck,” you gasped, brushing your wild hair out of your face. “I’m really supposed to go back to the party like this?”

Roy’s dark chuckle had your heart racing. “Party?” he scoffed. “Oh no, baby. I’m not fucking done with you.”

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[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 45 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 3 | lesson 44 | lesson 45.2 | lesson 46

did i play all the ruri tunes level last night so i could read the entire lesson and make this post at work? yes.

and i'd do it again BOP BOP

HELP 😭 my man was TIRED

i feel like belphie helped put beel to sleep bc he was too invested in his work and not disappointing lucifer to go to sleep on his own. maybe he was too worried and overused his powers, making beel sleep deeper than he normally does and worrying everyone even more on accident

idk i'm just yapping

maybe it's something lilith related? or maybe it is just an all you can eat buffet with mc and the boys. regardless of if he picks something food related or not, it's gonna involve his family, and i love that about him

thinking about this reminds me of the one bonus scene in nb season 1 (not sure which lesson but i think i talked about it) where beel blamed himself for not telling lucifer about the banshee when it happened and, ultimately, for lilith's death

he and lucifer are so similar in terms of how the feel the need to protect their family at all costs, even if it means killing themselves in the process, and i really wish we got more of the two of them together bc i adore their dynamic

ik we all saw that teaser trailer video...what's going on with him ???

is it a result of messing with the timelines one too many times, or the fact that satan was sentenced to become a human instead of a demon when he fell, or something else entirely?

i thought the post was getting too long, more on this here

shhshdhsgs he's such a dad

with the chapter title being "runaway train", i figured smth like this was gonna happen 😭

aside from that, satan hosting the finals is so on brand for him. gotta love my favorite nerd

but also i'd be PISSED if i was hosting and they didn't tell me shit bc what ???

logically speaking, they won't let anything bad happen to three of the seven lords, their pact holderand best friend/partner, and the demon prince's butler, but anyone with a brain would be panicking if the conductor of the train all of a sudden vanished into thin air and nobody on the train knows how to operate it 💀

hm...

HMMM....

this is probably a stretch, but what if those people are the sponsors for this leg of the science fair? what if they actually want the boys dead?

again, this post is already long so i made a separate one 🫠 mb y'all

:((( pookie

the guilt and helplessness he probably feels for not knowing any of the circumstances despite his status as host, maybe even feeling like he was a pawn of the sponsors who came up with the event in the first place

we know he has self-esteem and self-worth issues and this is not only a punch in the gut, but terrifying bc his self-perceived "incompetence" and inability to help because of his lack of knowledge, something that he usually prides himself on, might end up getting the people he's closest to killed

he can't face the guilt, so he ran

he's so ??? 😭

also, since beel and barb are technically on the same team now despite being competitors before, does that mean they each get a wish if the team as a whole wins, or does the team collectively get one wish? bc just giving one of them a wish wouldn't be fair

and i mean TECHNICALLY force is a part of physics

beel big brain

...we've almost died how many times now?

also, since this part is called "beel's wish", imagine his wish is to save us so we don't die (again) lmao

luke is so not funny 😭

but this is honestly really sweet of diavolo. i had a feeling he'd figure out how to incorporate everyone's wish into his own bc even after winning due to mainly his own efforts, he insisted that it was a team effort

talked about the bonus stories here bc there wasn't enough space for screenshots 🥲

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (19)

(c!technoblade x fem!reader) (?who knows at this point..)

(*SCREAMING UNTIL MY VOICE IS GONE* hahahaha i'm finally done with this devil forsaken chapter! I literally cannot articulate HOW hard this chapter was, for who knows what reason! I don't know why but this chapter was a struggle. like some trial a fucking greek god would give me to make me stronger or whatever. but.. I did it finally. PLEASE reblog and comment so I can feel like the pain I went through was worth it y'all 😭🥺👉👈)

—————

Bored.

That’s been his general state of things for about.. I don’t know, maybe 5 months? At least since he’d finished taking part in that last pvp tournament on the championship battle server. But the battle season has finished and he’s not found anything new to hold his attention. 

And Phil was busy working on a new build that's taken up his attention. And Techno would help but he knows Phil wants to do it himself, the man is so picky about his builds so Techno just leaves him be. Usually by now someone would have got in contact to hire him for his war faring services. Some kingdom or warring faction, looking for someone well versed in battle and strategy to help them turn the tides. But-

A yellow feather fluttering into his field of vision followed by the sound of flapping wings made the red eyed hybrid look up to see an incoming parrot holding a rolled up letter tied to its leg.

“Well, speak of the devil or whatever,” Techno said in his usual monotone drawl as the parrot landed on his shoulder.

It held its leg out and he took the offered scroll before reaching into his inventory to grab some seeds to feed it. Then once it was happily munching away he unrolled the letter, wondering which server it could be from. Probably some new upstart one inhabited by a bunch of idiots with conflicting opinions who don’t realize they can just go separate directions and end it. That was usually how it went. People were all the same. They find out their opinions don’t match up, they bicker over it, they fight, someone invariably gets killed, they wage war, and then rinse and repeat. 

But as he read the letter he realized it wasn’t from just anybody. It was from Wilbur, Philza’s kid. Jeez, he hasn’t seen him in what feels like one hundred years. 

Huh, when was the last time he’d seen the bespectacled boy? He actually can’t recall. He thinks back, far back, scouring his memory for instances with Wilbur. He remembers his round glasses, his warm yellow sweater, and his love for anything music. Techno recalls how Wilbur had always detested battle, fighting, anything like that. Hell, he hadn’t even liked wearing armor, even when it was for his own good. Which Techno thought was both foolish and endearing. He himself was always suited to battle, falling into it like how a bird takes to the skies. But he’d always seen Wilbur as so far removed from being suitable for violence. 

All the younger man had ever said he wanted to do was sing, play music, and write. He truly had the heart of a poet, that was for sure. Getting him to learn some basic defense so he could travel to the nearby villages on his own without being a sitting duck had been similar to pulling teeth for Philza, his son always treating the lessons like a chore. But he and Phil had managed to teach him enough self defense so he could be safe out on his own, at least from the mobs. And once that was handled then Philza didn’t feel so worried leaving his boy home alone, meaning he and Techno could go traveling again.

And Wilbur hadn’t been bothered by this either, seeming to enjoy having some time to himself when his father and Techno were out. They always came home to Wilbur playing his guitar either outside in the yard, enjoying the sun, or inside by the fire to stay cozy. He’d been perfectly content. 

And then one day they came home and Wilbur hadn’t been alone like he’d always been before. He’d had some kid with him, a little boy who actually bore a strong resemblance to Philza, what with his blond hair and blue eyes. That had been more than a shock, he’ll admit. Walking in and seeing Wilbur with some random kid they’d never seen before, just sitting on the floor in front of the couch like it was no big deal.

Yeah, that had been Tommy, and according to Wilbur he’d found him eating out of the trash in the village so he’d brought him home. Of course. When Philza asked where Tommy’s parents were, the kid had wrinkled his nose and said they were probably at home. That had turned into them grilling the kid, trying to figure out where their house was so Wilbur could return him. 

But Tommy had kicked up a huge fuss, shouting about how he left on his own and he was never going back. From how he’d described it, his parents hadn’t been the best. Not even close actually, they’d sounded like shit to be honest. I mean if your toddler is willing to up and leave with zero intention of going back to you, like 100% willing to eat out of the trash instead of staying with you then yeah you’re probably a shit tier parent.

Wilbur had begged Philza to let Tommy stay with them. He had nowhere else to go and leaving him out on the street seemed messed up and he was so little, it’s not like he’d take up much space anyways. Yeah, Wilbur admitted the kid kinda ate a lot but no more than he guessed all kids ate… But they had a huge garden and some cows so it wasn’t a huge deal, right? 

Techno had been against it, they’d JUST started getting back to traveling again since Wilbur was old enough and capable enough to look after himself now. He’d argued that they didn’t need another little gremlin running around touching their stuff. He’d been eyeing the little blond boy as he stared openly at Techno’s own enchanted sword that was strapped to his belt. He’d tucked it into his inventory to keep it away from the kid and his no doubt grimy little fingers. 

But Philza had always been such a sap when it came to Wilbur and his ‘sad boy eyes’. So he’d ended up folding like a house of cards pretty quick, though he’d warned Wilbur that the kid, Tommy, was his responsibility. Philza wasn’t going to start looking after him when he’d not had any hand in taking him in. So Tommy’s well being was now solely in Wilbur’s hands. 

Phil had actually been really serious at that part, asking Wilbur if he knew what he was getting into? Because Phil knew how hard it was to care for a child, it was exhausting and sometimes thankless, and you can’t just stop whenever you want because someone defenseless now relies on you.

Wilbur hadn’t been dissuaded though, and pulled the shorter boy close in a half hug, saying he’d be the best big brother ever! Nevermind the child had started gnawing on the arm Wilbur had around him.. Techno couldn’t help but roll his eyes back then and even now as he remembered that promise. But Wilbur seemed happy at least, and neither Phil nor Techno would have to take care of the kid so it hadn’t been so bad. And later when they were alone Phil shared that he was actually glad that Wilbur wouldn’t be alone at home anymore. He’d felt bad leaving his boy all alone, even though he could defend himself. 

Techno assured him that Wilbur was a big boy now, practically an adult himself. So he didn’t need Phil worrying about him so much. Phil had laughed and said that was true but he couldn’t stop worrying, it was a parent thing. You never truly stop worrying about your kid. Techno figured that made sense but still told Phil that that was one of the reasons why he wasn’t having kids, too much stress. Techno’s a busy guy, he can’t be losing sleep over some helpless nerds. That had gotten Phil to laugh, which had been Techno’s goal. So, goal accomplished. 

Things had been good after that. At least that’s how Techno remembered them to be. Him and Phil would travel and explore to their heart’s content, coming back to the house every now and again to take a break and check up on the brunet and blond. The kid grew like a weed, looking taller and taller with each visit. Him and Wilbur growing closer in height as well as their bond, soon acting like true brothers. 

Wilbur had been so happy, and Techno remembers the last time he’d seen him. Him and Phil returned home for another short time between tournaments. They’d walked up to the forest surrounded property they’d called home to see Wil lounging against the porch, guitar in hand with Tommy chasing around a bee, trying to catch it.

They looked so peaceful. And Techno thought that’d never change.

..But reading his letter now made Techno’s stomach sink a bit. 

Wilbur was asking for his help. His professional help.. Looks like he’d joined a server not too long ago and started his own nation; L’manberg. Technoblade couldn’t help but close his eyes in annoyance while pinching the bridge of his nose at hearing that. Nothing good ever came from governments, if he’d said that once he’s said it a million times. To the point where if he were a cartoon character from the 80’s then it’d be his damn catchphrase. But people just keep making and joining governments, even Wilbur it seemed.. 

And from the tone of the letter it looked like Wilbur was in big trouble. 

Techno scrubbed his hand down his face, his snout scrunching as he turned the letter over in his mind a few times before sighing and taking out his ender chest. With some mild annoyance he decided to help Wilbur out with his war. Better than sitting around being bored out of his mind at any rate. So he composed a letter back to the brunet, letting him know his services wouldn’t be cheap just because they knew each other, but he’d gladly help him turn the tides. Once that letter was done he handed it over to the parrot, watching it fly off back to Wilbur.

Then on a whim he decided to compose another letter, this time to Phil, letting him know what his son was up to. But knowing the winged man, he’d probably just find the whole thing amusing. 

“Well.. I better get packed while I wait for Wilbur’s reply,” Techno said before heading back to his house.

-0-

You carried Azo in your arms as the four of you walked back to L’manburg from the nether portal. Internally you were still seething at Wilbur, you knew what he’d done, to a child of all people. You knew Wilbur, deeper and more intimately than he would ever be comfortable with. But you’d held out hope he’d never sink so low as to harm a child.. You’d really clung to the sliver of hope, despite everything you’d seen him do in the lore streams..

But now you knew with a sad certainty how low he was willing to go for what he wanted. And you wanted nothing more than to sink your teeth into his throat and rend his esophagus from its place in his neck before crushing his skull between your palms. Your jaws ached with the fervent desire to cause the vile bastard as much pain physically as he’d caused you and your children mentally and emotionally. 

Though instead of succumbing to those feral desires you instead took a long measured breath in through your nose before letting it out through your mouth, just trying to calm your white hot rage since you needed to focus on the three kids you had with you and not the dead man walking over in fuckin Pogtopia~

You all got to your house and you mentally focused on how too small it was for your family now. Tommy and Tubbo already had their own rooms at your place despite each having their own homes elsewhere. You noticed they usually stayed here at night to sleep, which you were fine with. You preferred it actually, knowing they were safe in bed at night under your roof. But with Azo staying here full time you’d need to make her her own bedroom. 

Planning that out calmed your rage thankfully. Turned the magma level heat into a soft manageable simmer. Looking down at the little piglin in your arms made you feel so much better. Things weren’t perfect, no, but you’re just so glad she’s okay. You almost lost her and the thought makes your heart feel like it was being tugged out of your chest. But she’s okay. Things are okay. 

You remind yourself of this as you carry your baby through the threshold of your, and now her, home. You breathe and stop at the kitchen, telling the three it’s around lunch time and you’d make them some food. Both boys cheered and sat at the table, while you sat Azo on your hip with one arm while using the other to grab some stuff out of the ice box you kept around to hold food for the two teens. 

Azo watched you pull things out with curiosity, not sure what any of them were. Which sent a pang of sadness through you because you know you’ve let her try most of these before but she clearly didn’t remember it. Though you cheered yourself up with the knowledge that she could just try them all over again, rediscover her favorites and least favorites. You still remember the way her little snout had wrinkled up in distaste when she’d first tried a slice of lemon. That had been hilarious and you’d wished you had some way to record it to keep the memory forever, but oh well. 

“Mum, can you make us some of that fruit flower tea?” Tubbo asked from his spot at the table.

You smiled and said sure, and reached into the cabinet for the jar of tea you’d made for them not too long ago. You figured a warm meal and warm tea would be better for Azo right now since introducing her to cold stuff in the Overworld, which was already colder than the Nether, would be too much too soon. You noticed with a frown that she already seemed to be chilly. So while the tea was steeping you went over to the couch and grabbed the wool throw off the back and wrapped it snugly around her shoulders. She snorted happily at the sudden barrier from the chill this new world seemed to have.

“We’re gonna have to get you some new clothes, kiddo. Some that keep you warmer than your current ones do,” You said as you went to put some meat skewers onto the smoker and some potatoes in the furnace to bake.

You hummed and swayed your hips back and forth slowly as you watched the food cook. Then the tea was ready and you took Azo to the table and pulled a couple books from your inventory before sitting them on the chair, then you set her on top of them so she could reach the tabletop. She snuggled into the blanket around her while you went to fix the tea.

After giving each kid a cup you finished up the food and sat with them so they could eat. You idly listened as Tubbo and Tommy both talked to Azo, telling her all about L’manberg and their friends, and how they were going to show her around soon maybe.

You just let yourself zone out, taking comfort in your kids all being safe in one place right now.

-0-

Quackity had thought over what he and Reader had discussed the day they started rebuilding the White House. She said he had to make a decision since Schlatt had basically bailed on L’manberg. And she’d also said he’d deserved better than how Schlatt treated him. He’d honestly not wanted to think about that. Because thinking about her words made him throw his entire relationship into question. Did he deserve better than Schlatt? He wasn’t sure how to answer that. If he did then why did he deserve better? 

He didn’t want to start dumping on Schlatt, because they’d honestly had so many good times together. Great ones. They’d vibed so well while dating, Quackity can’t count how many times the ram had made him laugh his ass off. Just them two hanging out, sharing some drinks, spending nights out on the town in other SMPs, it was some of the best times of Quackity’s life. Even now, thinking about those times brought a smile (and soft flush) to the duck hybrids face. I mean Schlatt was charismatic, funny, and knew how to make his knees feel like jelly. Plus he had a few other good qualities he didn’t want to focus on too much in public..

But his smile faded away as those sweet memories made way for the not so sweet ones. Things had been great, yeah, but only when Schlatt wasn’t in a bad mood. Now that Quackity actually thinks about it there was always the worry of Schlatt’s good mood evaporating looming over their relationship. If he wasn’t happy then his bad mood sucked the good atmosphere right out of the room. It could be suffocating. The first few times it happened he’d try to give the ram hybrid some space, figuring he’d get over it. But that usually led to arguments, Schlatt asking if Quackity planned to leave any time things weren’t going perfect. That’d made him feel like shit, so he’d started doing all he could to keep the good vibes going.

Quackity isn’t sure when he’d gotten used to it but soon things fell into a rhythm of things being super great and awesome followed by something pissing on Schlatt’s good mood, then him being an asshole, Quackity doing everything he could think of to cheer him up, and then everything repeating in that cycle. It could feel exhausting at times but he just supposed that was just how relationships were supposed to be. But after what Reader said.. he was starting to question if that was right or not. He’d been so conflicted that he’d broken down and asked Karl for advice for a ‘friend of his’ who was having relationship issues.

He’d lied and said it was for a girl he was friends with on another server who was having issues with her girlfriend. Karl had listened to his edited version of events and told Quackity his friend was in a not very good relationship and she should break up with her girlfriend before things got even worse. That had just made his stomach sink further but he played it cool and thanked Karl for hearing him out, and he’d talk to his friend later and tell her what he thought she should do. Karl gave him a sweet smile and wrapped his arm around the dark haired male in a side hug before replying,

“Don’t worry, man. That’s what friends are for. Tell your friend if she needs any help leaving then she can come to us, we’ll help her out of there no problem.”

Quackity couldn’t help the smile hearing this gave him and said he’d let her know.

That’d been hours before and he knew he needed to message Reader and tell her where he stood. It wasn’t good to leave things ambiguous with her, not regarding his allegiance to L’manberg.. She’d messaged him earlier that morning, asking if he was doing alright. He hadn’t replied, wanting to talk to someone else about what he was thinking first. But he knew he couldn’t leave her on read for much longer. 

But just as he was getting ready to open his communicator.. it chimed.

He sighed, thinking it was Reader. But when he checked it his throat closed up.

‘Schlatt whispers to you: can we talk?’

Quackity gulped, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat as he read and reread the message at least 7 times. Curses ran through his head as he sat up on his couch, still staring down at the device on his wrist. He tore his eyes away, harshly scrubbing his hand down his face, just trying to calm his racing heart as he tried to focus on one thought at a time. Okay, okay, okay- he needed to relax, just- He jumped when his communicator chimed again. And when he looked back down at it anxiously he paused..

‘Schlatt whispers to you: please babe, come on

‘Schlatt whispers to you: i miss you

The duck hybrid stared down at the screen hard, biting his lip enough to draw a drop of blood as he did. Then with shaky hands he started forming a reply…

—————

@lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @reverse-iak @corpiet @beepa99 @anxiousnarwhale @bananaaddictmilkshake @realitycanbeajerk @lostandsouciant @thegeekisheere @sparkling-gayyy @woman-soot @xxtwizztedxx @fall3n-vo1d @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @jaciahbabes @lucian-kinnder @deadroses2021 @victory-is-here @where-thesundoesntshine @itsberrydreemurstuff

[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 80... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

THAT ENDING...!!! 😱 OH MY-- WAIT...! I'm getting ahead of myself...

First of all, Happy Mother's day everyone...!! 💗 I hope y'all are having a wonderful day today because another amazing chapter of Spy X Family just dropped and we're gonna talk about it...!! 😆

Let's start by acknowledging the fact that this chapter is a direct continuation of Mission 79, which is something I did not expect AT ALL...! 😆

Yor is so worried about what happened last night with Loid that she's afraid to cross paths with him...! Meanwhile in the living room, Loid is giving Anya some breakfast before she and Becky go to the zoo together (I wonder if we'll get to see any of that trip in the future...? 🤔) [proceeds to hear "We're Going To The Zoo" from Milo Murphy's Law in my head 🐵]

And as Yor comes out of her room, Loid spots her and well...

THESE TWO IDIOTS I SWEAR!! 🤣 I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH...!! 😂

After trying to come up with some gripes and causing some confusion to Westalis' Greatest Spy™, Yor says THIS in front of...:

THAT'S RIGHT!! 😆 MY BOY YURI IS BACK TO CAUSE SOME HAVOC!!

And since Yuri came in the at the wrong right time, so of course he would start harassing Loid for making his sister very "unhappy"... 😌

I just love how DONE Twilight is with Yuri's shit now...!! 🤣 (He even told him to shut up later in the chapter...!! 😂)

After some more shenanigans between the three, the phone rings and it turned out to be an urgent message from WISE...! So when Loid left in a rush, it led Yuri to think THIS:

And so, Yuri and Yor started following Loid...!

But before Yuri could find whether or not Loid is a cheater, he gets summoned by his job and leaves Yor to follow Loid...! 👀 And honestly, I started to think that this might lead to Yor learning Loid's secret, but then she got fully sober and went home...! 😌

So when Loid arrived at the hospital, Fiona debriefed him on the situation at hand...

THERE'S A MOLE!!? 😱

Not only is there a mole, but they also stole some important information, including...:

And this stolen information is headed to...:

WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED Y'ALL!!? 😵

And that was Mission 80, and it was a doozy of a chapter...!! 😄 Mission 80 had me thinking that it was gonna be just another fun little chapter, and then that ending HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK!! 😆 I cannot wait to see what happens next!! 😁

I did have one major question lingering in mind after reading this chapter: Who is the Mole...? 🤔

I personally believe that it's gotta be someone we already know from WISE, like agent mustache and agent bowl-cut... Then, my mind started to think that it could be Franky... BUT I DON'T WANT IT TO BE FRANKY!! 😭 I guess we'll just have to wait and find out...!! 🤷

Anyway, that's all I gotta say... So until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and Happy Mother's again!! BUH-BYE!! 👋😁

(Sidenote: I had my review done WAY early today, but for some reason, it wouldn't save at all and I had to rewrite the whole thing THREE TIMES before it finally worked... 🥲)

[jasntodds]

Petrichor Chapter 9 Teaser - Full Chapter coming 09/13

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb) Teaser Words: 2,262 Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of canon violence, mentions of canon drug use, canon grave digging?? lol, mentions of violence Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞ Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now. A/N: I thought I'd have this done on Wednesday and then did not lol then I lost wifi for like 24 hours so couldn't finish editing. I'm so sorry I didn't mean to leave y'all on a cliffhanger lmao You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

“Please, don’t be mad.”

His voice. You would know that voice anywhere and you freeze. Your heart feels like it’s just plummented to streets below you because it can’t be him. It’s your mind playing tricks on you. It has to be because he’s dead. You know for a fact he’s dead. This is some cruel joke he’s playing, somehow.

Maybe you really did piss him off. If he has your phone number and knew you’d meet him here, in uniform, maybe he knows more. Maybe he knows Jason was Robin and you were together. Your social media feeds were consumed with each other. It was obvious. Maybe that’s what this is. Some mind game as payback for going after someone he wanted to kill himself or someone he wanted to recruit for his new crime family. It has to be. Because Jason Todd is dead.

You look over at him slowly, seeing the green eyes that haunt you in your dreams now. There’s the mark near his left eye he’s had since you met. You memorized where the few freckles are and they match on Red Hood. He’s the same height as Jason. His brows are knitted together in the same way Jason always did when he was thinking and pleading with you for something. The only difference is his hair. Jason doesn’t have a white streak. So, it can’t be him. He’s dead.

You move away from him quickly, putting your hand out in front of you as it glows neon green. You gain a scowl as you clench your jaw. Not him.

“Tell me who the fuck you are before I melt your sorry ass!” You yell at him. You don’t care what he’s capable of. If Red Hood wants to play this game, you’ll play right back and you’ll go down swinging. It’s not a joke and it’s just cruel.

Jason faces you, eyeing you carefully. He knew you wouldn’t believe him. You're smart. You're going to make sure he’s real. But it hurts anyway.

“It’s me.” Jason states holding the helmet on his hip. “I swear, alright? It’s me.”

You shake your head as you feel your eyes grow warm and the tip of your nose warm. Your eyes start to water and it’s actually embarrassing. You can’t actually stand here ready to kill him while crying. Whatever his endgame is, he has to be winning because your hand starts to shake and you swear it’s not him.

“No…because I-I…no.” Your words are rugged and breathy. “I found him.” You mutter through gritted teeth. “He’s dead.” You suck in a breath, keeping your stare on him. “You’re. Not. Him.”

You know it can’t be him because that’s not possible. It’s not possible that someone can die and come back to life. Bruce had an autopsy performed even. Even if there was a way, there was an autopsy. How can someone come back from that? You read the report, you saw the pictures. That is real. Can he survive being bludgeoned with a crowbar and then being embalmed? That doesn’t make any fucking sense. And if he were really Jason, why wouldn’t he come to you as soon as he comes back to life? Why would he become Red Hood first? Why would he go to Molly first? You saw him, cold and pale and lifeless with autopsy scars on a slab. This isn’t Jason.

Jason’s heart drops because you never should have been the one to find him. He knew you would. Jason remembers every thought he had before everything went black and he remembers knowing you’d come because you’d always come to find him. But, he was really, really hoping he was wrong and it was anyone else. It just had to be you. Jason doesn’t know what the damage was but he has a pretty good guess it was pretty ugly and mortifying. It wasn’t enough that he literally died, but it had to be you to fucking find him.

And his heart breaks with the look you're giving him because you've always trusted him. But right now, just by the scowl and vibrancy of the green of your hand, he knows you don’t. You have to believe him. You have to.

“I gave you a necklace.” Jason states, looking to your neck that’s covered with the suit. “Infinity symbol, because it’s you and me. There’s a tracking device in it because you have a habit of getting kidnapped.” Jason nods at you once as he manages his signature smirk. “You’re probably still wearing it because you never took it off since the night of the gala.” Jason gestures a hand towards you lazily and you swear the necklace starts burning your neck. “You picked out the hood for your suit. And you were always afraid of heights but grappling around the city has apparently helped you get over it. I have a favorite gargoyle. You and Bruce are the only two who know that.” Jason tries to think of other things only him and you would know. He remembers everything but it has to be specific because just anything is never going to fly with you.

You pause and you think Jason has to be the only one who would know all of that. Anyone would know about the necklace but not the reason or the tracking device. You never even told Molly why he gave it to you. You always said it was just something nice he did. No one would know you picked out your hood besides Bruce and Gar. And the gargoyle thing is so damn odd that no one would even think of that. But he did. But it can’t be him. How can it be him?

“My favorite meal is pot roast which I taught you to make the same day you taught me scrapbooking stuff. My page was about Robin, of course, it was, right?” Jason shakes his head as he scoffs. The name of Robin is almost sour on his lips now. “Pride and Prejudice is my favorite book and I really like West Side Story, it was our second date that you planned.” Jason takes a step forward with a sigh and you keep your footing as your hand lowers just a little. “Krypto is your best friend even though he’s a dog. You like Excellent Gotham which I think you like going to because you suck at making friends but you think Tim is cool.” Jason grins at you as you glare at him in the way you always did when he was saying something just to get under your skin. “Hey, you said that yourself.” Jason chuckles softly, looking to the ground and your face softens just slightly. He always did that. “I dumped a bucket of ice water on you once, back in San Francisco.” Jason lets out this laugh and he can’t see it, but it gets you to smile under your mask. That’s definitely his laugh because it’s booming and it echoes over the roof.

“Asshole.” You mutter as Jason watches the glowing start to fade.

“You ate the rest of my food! On purpose!” He laughs and there’s this light in his eyes as he gives you this teasing grin. The one he always gave you right before you caved.

“I thought it would be funny.” You lower your hand. “And it was.” The venom in your voice is gone.

“Yeah, sure it was.” Jason sucks in a breath.

Your face softens as you take off your mask and Jason sucks in a deep breath. He waits, nearly wanting to jump out of his own skin. He knows you're running every possibility through your head, just to be sure. He has to wait for you to land on this to be real and true. But it’s agonizing and he can’t breathe as he waits. But as he waits, he can see the disbelieve and what he swears was hatred, dissolve from the lines on your face. Your brows knit together as your eyes start to water.

“Jay?” Your voice trembles through the space between you.

Jason nods softly. “Yeah, it’s me.”

You suck in a breath and run the distance between you. You slam into him with a force as your arms wrap around his neck and this time, without hesitation, Jason’s arms wrap around your middle. He holds you as close to him as possible as his eyes close. You smell like his body wash and shampoo and he can’t help but smile. Of course, you do.

It’s unbelievable. You have no idea how it’s possible but it has to be him. No one else would be able to know all of that. You and Jason always kept so much close to your chests when it came to the two of you, you know he didn’t tell anyone. He wouldn’t. It has to be him and you're relieved. You're wrapped in his arms again and it’s like you've been sucked back home in an instant.

It's relief that hits Jason like a freight train. It's firm and hard but comforting. An easy breath of air leaves his lungs and it's as if he hasn't been able to take a full breath since coming back, not until now. Your arms are wrapped around his neck so right he thinks you might strangle him and it feels good. He was so scared you'd punch him and tell him off and leave. He died and a really big part of him, thinks you should do all of those things. But, you don't and Jason is just happy to have you with him, if just for this moment.

Jason pulls down your hood to get you to look at him and the second you do, one of his hands comes up the back of your head and he brings your lips to his. His hand tangles in your hair and he keeps his other wrapped as tightly as he can as if he were to let go for even a second, he'd wake up to relive another nightmare. 

Your mouths move together almost carefully at first before it grows sloppy and almost desperate. You slide your hands into the curls at the nape of his neck and you think nothing, right now matters. You can exist right here on this rooftop just like this with him. If you stay like this, nothing can happen. Nothing bad can happen again if you can just stay like this. You beg and plead with the universe to just freeze time but the universe never seems to listen to your pleas.

"I'm so sorry." Jason mutters against your lips, his breath heaving but he keeps his lips just hovering above yours as if he's terrified to move.

You're the one that pulls away to get a good look at him. "W-what...I--" You shake your head and Jason's heart sinks as he feels your arms loosen around his neck. "You died." You chew the inside of your cheek. "H-how?"

“Lazarus Pit.” Jason states. “I don’t know how it works but I was put in it and came out alive.”

Jason knows he can’t tell you much. If he tells you what’s going on, it’ll complicate things a little. Crane already doesn’t trust you. And Jason knows that. Jason also knows you’ll lose your mind if you find out what he’s doing, the whole story. He knows he can’t tell you. Not until the time is right but you, at the very fucking least, deserve to know he’s alive and how. The Titans will find out eventually anyway and none of them could go back and tell you. You’d never forgive him.

If this were any other city, you would say that were a load of shit. But this is Gotham where the impossible always seems possible in the most fucked up ways. It’s just a normal thing here. Acid creating whatever fuck the Joker was. That same acid turning Harley Quinn into whatever she is now that’s actually nothing like the Joker. Poison Ivy accidentally spilling a chemical and turning into what she is now. Insane scientists that torment the city with magic tricks and fear gas. Maybe Lazuaus Pit makes sense.

“Lazarus Pit.” You nod your head once. “That tracks.” You let out a sigh.

“Yeah.” A forced chuckle leaves Jason’s lips as he drops his hand from your hair and moves it to your waist.

“Who put you in it then?” You ask as your hands find their way to his biceps and there's a trickling of anger starting to drip into your stomach.

You're thrilled and relieved he's alive and he's real. But, you're also smack in the middle of grieving him. Now, he's suddenly alive and it's not like he just walked into the manor one day. He's been out here being Red Hood for days and you're just now finding out about it. The relief of him being alive is still throbbing with your heart but there's an anger that's there, moving in slowly. It's as if your body is so used to being mad at the entire world or absolutely miserable that it doesn't know what to do right now. And you think you might be getting whiplash from the emotions. It’s like you go numb as your body sorts through which emotion it wants to land on like some sick arcade game.

Jason shakes his head, knowing this is about to go south. “I can’t tell you.” Jason answers honestly.

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[strawberryfairi]

Synopsis✨: The story of how you catch heavy feelings for the hot photography student, Shuji Hanma…even though you already have the perfect (fake) boyfriend.

Pairings: Photography Student! Shuji Hanma X Dance Major! Black Fem 🤎 Reader (ANYONE CAN READ🧚🏾‍♀️)  Content: Drama, lots of denial, angst, sneaky link, lots of cheating, mutual pining, unserious Shuji, controlling parents, forced relationships, romance, fighting, porn with a good plot vibes, intense sexual tension, etc (just find out the rest lol)

w.c: 4k💠 Released: August 30, 2024

Previous | Next... | Chapters Masterlist

NOTE🧚🏾‍♀️: Ok so y'all...here's the tea. Not I forgot to post this on Tumblr after I had already put it up on wattpad I mean like over 2 months ago😅 I KNOW I KNOW DANG I'M SO SORRY Y'ALL OMG. I'm glad I realized this cause uhhh....yeah😭

C.W:  TRIGGER WARNING! Angst (nothing really dark though), illegal drugs mentioned, mentions of date rape/sexual assault, reader has a seizure, "Rape Kit" (Sexual Assault Forensic Exam) Mentioned, Best Friend Keisuke Baji is supportive!!!

10; Allegations 指控

Shuji feels a heavy weight partially lift off of his shoulders when he sees you finally awake, but it also pained him the way you looked so tired and devastated, sitting there with red, puffy eyes.

"Hey pretty girl." He says softly, reaching over and wiping a few stray tears with the back of his hand. It felt so strange to him, being so soft and gentle with someone, and caring so much. He never realized how powerful tears could be until right now. You had his heart clenching and didn't even know it.

"I don't feel pretty. I feel terrible." You mutter blandly with a light sniffle, looking down with a deep frown on your lips.

"Trust me you're still a ten even in a hospital bed." He grins, attempting to lighten the mood, but honestly...it was just truly how he felt.

"Stop..." You purse your lips together, trying not to smile at that.

"I mean it." He says softly, leaning down and giving you a quick, uncharacteristically gentle kiss.

Finally you give him a smile, that cute, shy smile that gets him every time. But as fast as the smile appeared, it faded right back into that same deep frown from before. "I-...I don't want you to go away." You murmur sadly, looking up at him with nearly desperate looking eyes.

Shuji furrows his brows. "What're you talkin' about? I'm right here. I'm not goin' anywhere."

"No." You shake your head, "I mean...I-I don't want you to leave me. I don't want this to go away." Your tone is so quiet he almost doesn't hear you, or really, he almost doesn't believe you actually just said that.

"Angel...-

"I don't want you to be like this with another girl; doing to her what you do to me. I want you to just be this way with me, 'cause I-...I li-

Abruptly, Shuji cuts you off with a soft kiss. He wasn't fully sure why he went and did it but, it was just the first thing that came to his mind. Slowly he pulls away, his eyes closed as he struggles to manage the awkward and unnecessarily aggressive pounding in his chest.

"Don't say it." He whispers desperately.

"But-

"I'm serious, you don't know what you're talkin' about. I don't think you really mean all this." He says rather uneasily.

"No, I do! I mean it, I like you!" You assert in a bit of a whiny tone, looking up at him with the most sincerest expression you could muster.

"No", He shakes his head, "No, you don't. You're just...probably feelin' emotional right now 'cause of everything goin' on." He concludes. Truly he wasn't sure he could handle hearing this from you.

You frown, but press on anyways, determined to get your feelings across. "I like you, Shuji. I wanna be more-

"Stop." He says wearily, shaking his head. The more you say it the more it forces him to have to actually acknowledge it, actually do something about it, and he had no idea what to do about this.

"Don't you?! Don't you like me too?! You really don't feel anything for me; not-..not at all?!" Your eyes instantly blur for the thousandth time, small tears starting to make their way down your cheeks just as you had finally stopped crying a second ago.

Shuji sighs exasperatedly, feeling like an asshole for making you cry, even though he was ninety eight percent sure this was purely just heat of the moment, high emotions talk. "Come on, don't cry angel; where's this even comin' from? You have a boyfriend, remember? You know that. You can't ask me somethin' like this." He coos, wiping away your tears with his thumb. He felt so hypocritical saying that. Since when has he ever given a shit about you having a boyfriend?

"So, you don't then? This whole time you-...you don't really like me?" You sniffle, casting your gaze downwards in a mix of hurt and embarrassment. Shuji feels stuck, at a complete loss as he tries to rack his brain for something to say that could possibly diffuse this. For the first time ever he feels completely overwhelmed by a situation; by another person. This was way too far out of his usual territory, and it's throwing him off.

"I-...look, I really don't think this is the right time to talk about-

"Do you or not?!" You press, becoming annoyed at the way he keeps fumbling around and deflecting. For a moment there's nothing but silence between you two. Both eyes locked onto one another stubbornly, inaudibly waiting for the other to crack and accept their loss.

Then finally, Shuji looks to the side with a grunt, jaw clenched tightly while facepalming in defeat. "...I do." He admits in a hushed, low tone.

"What?" You mutter in surprise, blinking a few times.

"I got feelings for you. I've had feelings for you for a while now." He clarifies, his tone still soft yet there's a clear discomfort. "But...you know I don't know anything about that boyfriend stuff; I'm not good at that kind'a thing. I can't give you what you need." He adds apologetically. Instantly you feel a small sharp sting in your heart, completely taken aback by his excuse.

"What does that mean? You-.. so you don't wanna be with me?" You mutter.

Shuji feels genuinely terrible, the way your voice is shaking with that hurt expression, it's killing him. "It's not about if I wanna be with you. Even if I wanted to you're already with somebody else. We can't be more than this anyways." He shakes his head, brushing your tear stained cheek with the back of his fingers.

You use a little bit of strength to place your small hand over his. "If I wasn't with him would you be with me?" You ask, looking him right in the eyes, not at all believing his words. He's never been the type to not go after something he wanted, no matter if it was his or not.

Shuji huffs tiredly, once again feeling cornered by your difficult questions. "I mean, I don't know, I-

"Would you?" You cut him off, your tone soft yet you were clearly getting impatient.

You and that look in your eyes is gonna be the death of him for sure. "If you weren't with him you'd probably already be my girl by now." He admits straight away. Inwardly he was cringing so hard at himself, second guessing his own response.

That sounded sappy as fuck...

You seemed to think otherwise though, with the way your lips instantly curve into a small, warm smile. "I wanna be your girl, Shuji." You hum longingly. Softly, you brush your pretty lips against the back of his tattooed hand, looking him in the eyes with a passion-filled gaze all the while.

"What the hell are you doin', angel?" Shuji whispers breathlessly. The audacity to say something like that and do something like that, all while looking at him like that...

In any other normal situation you pulling off something like this would damn sure have him bending you over the nearest surface and making you his girl. Shit, you could be whatever you wanted talking to him like that!

"I'm just telling you what I want." You murmur honestly against his hand.

"I think...the drugs are talkin' right now." He chokes out hesitantly, using every bit of his strength to block out all the loud, sexual thoughts trying to force its way to the forefront of his mind. "I don't care, it's still how I feel. I wanna be with you." You answer without even a second of hesitation, shaking your head.

Shuji wonders if this must be how you feel when he acts this way towards you, a wild mixture of feeling both so tempted yet so damn conflicted. Then just to make it even worse you have him fully seduced and wrapped around your little ass finger, ready to do whatever you ask.

"Only you would have me genuinely turned on while literally laying in a hospital bed." He facepalms, resting his head down on your shoulder.

"Maybe..." You start rather arbitrarily, turning your head towards him as you let go of his hand, "The next time I'm in a hospital bed will be because you finally put a baby in me." You murmur innocently.

"What?!" Shuji instantly whips his head up, blinking a few times while looking at you with his jaw on the floor. For the first time in his life something someone else has said to him has him literally dumbfounded. The audacity...the randomness, it was so....hot. His brain was completely malfunctioning, both trying to process and replay your words at the same time to make sure he actually heard you right.

Meanwhile you're just sitting there, sheepishly pursing your lips together to hide the little cutesy smile on your face, and it's making him mad. More like a concerning level of sexually frustrated, but that's besides the point. It's heinous the way you have him fully bricked up and ready in this stupid ass hospital, yet he can't do anything about it, and you're literally proud about that! It should be illegal to say something like that so innocently. You knew exactly what you were doing, and you knew it was working too.

"You don't know what you're sayin'. You-...you're talkin' crazy, baby." He says softly, shaking his head while running a hand through his dark hair.

"No I'm not." You deny in such an innocent, sweet tone.

"Yeah, ok. We'll see if that's still how you feel when you're fully sober." He sighs, deeply inhaling and exhaling to keep that tiny little shred of composure he had left.

Then with absolutely perfect timing, Dr. Chen walks back in with a clipboard full of documents. Thank God, if he had stayed any longer he was a undoubtedly sure he was gonna end up risking it all in this hospital and doing some shit he really shouldn't.

"I have the documents here for you to sign and give consent for the forensic exam process." She states politely, walking over to the other side of the hospital bed and placing the clipboard on your lap.

"Feel free to stay if you'd like. We can't start until all the documents are signed, so you have some time." She adds, turning her attention to him.

"Nah nah, I should go." He shakes his head. "I'll come back later." He adds softly, giving you one last look before making his way to the door.

Just as Shuji leaves your room, a familiar face makes him stop dead in his tracks. It's your late ass "boyfriend", and he looks pissed, storming over to him with his eyes blazing with animosity.

Perfect timing....how ironic.

"I fuckin' knew it. I knew it would be you!" He grits out, stepping right up to him.

On the bright side, this is the perfect opportunity for Shuji to let off some of his frustration. Definitely not in the way he'd like to, but...it'll have to do for now.

Meanwhile, Keisuke and Kazutora are just down the hall, coming back from one of the nearest vending machines with their hands full of snacks. "Wait wait wait, you hear that?" Kazutora murmurs, slowing to a stop as he listens intently to the semi-faded yelling.

"Is that Ryuguji?! How the hell does he know about this?!" Kei rambles in bewilderment.

"Oh, I texted him a while ago. I figured he'd wanna know since it's his girlfriend." Kazutora shrugs plainly.

"You idiot..." Kei narrows his eyes.

"What?! What'd I do?!"

"Bro, they're not on good terms right now!" Kei scolds.

"Who?! Hanma and Ryuguji?" Kazutora's brows furrow.

"Nooooo! Ryuguji and Y/N aren't cool right now! But I mean, I guess him and Hanma aren't cool either."

Kazutora's mouth falls into an "O" shape, the both of them going silent as they listen in to whatever was going on.

"Don't fuckin' play these stupid ass games with me! I know for a fact you're the one fuckin' my girl! Don't even try to act like it's not true, Hanma!" Ryuguji accuses.

Both Kei and Kazutora's eyes go wide, mouths dropping as they look at each other utterly shook.

"Whaaaaaat?!" Kazutora mouths quietly.

"What is goin' on?!" Kei murmurs.

"Did you know that?!" Kazutora whispers.

"Hell no! I didn't even know he knew Y/N!" Kei shakes his head frantically.

"Woooooow." Kazutora whispers.

"Your girl?! You're really bitchin' to me about games when you're the one playing pretend with her every single day. She's literally never been your girl." Hanma claps back nonchalantly.

"Wait what?!" Kazutora gasps once again.

"Ok, well see, that I did know." Kei murmurs.

"What does he mean pretend?!" Kazutora whispers.

"So like, Y/N and Ryuguji are actually a fake couple, bro. They're not really together; never have been." Kei explains briefly.

At this point Kazutora has to take a short lap, his brain failing to comprehend the whole situation. "Wait hold up, hold up. Y/N and Ryuguji...aren't actually together. Then on top of that, she's in a whole separate thing with Hanma at the same time?!"

"I-..I guess so, yeah. She didn't tell me the part with Hanma though; I have no idea where or when he came in." Keisuke shrugs, feeling just as lost as his friend.

"It's like a fake love triangle. No, a...love diagonal? I don't even know, college is crazy bro." Kazutora shakes his head. "Should we like...break this up though?"

"Not even gonna lie, I'm kinda trynna hear this." Kei admits with a guilty laugh. "No facts, this is dramatic as fuck." Kazutora nods, joining in with the laughter, then tuning back into the argument.

"That doesn't matter! You probably didn't even know it was fake until she told you at some point! That means before that, you knew we were together, yet you still went after her anyways!" Ken rants.

Shuji pauses for a second, looking to the side in thought before forming a response. "Ok...sure. You're still not actually together though, so being mad at me is crazy. You should actually be her real boyfriend in the first place before being this pissed that she's fuckin' someone else." Hanma shrugs plainly.

Kazutora leans over towards Keisuke, whispering quietly "They're really deadass fighting over her..."

"No like, in the middle of a hospital too. When has Hanma ever argued over a girl, bro?" Keisuke says in a dazed tone.

"Never...never." Kazutora responds.

"If this were the other way around-

"If this were the other way around she'd actually be mine. I would never be caught in a fake ass relationship then have the audacity to be mad when I find out she's fuckin' someone else! That's just straight idiot behavior." Shuji cuts off Ken annoyedly, his tone fully condescending.

"You're going out of your way to miss the point, Hanma! You're a fuckin' snake!" Ken rants.

"I'm a snake 'cause your "girlfriend" wants to be with me instead?!"

"Because you stole her from me! On purpose!"

"She's not yours to steal! You're relationship is faaake! That shit ain't real!" Shuji stresses.

Ken clenches his jaw angrily. "Unlike you, I actually give a damn about her! And honestly, wether our relationship's real or not, I'm the one she's with at the end of the day, not you!" Ken points out with angry finality. And with that, Shuji was completely over this argument. Using being a fake boyfriend as a flex was the dumbest shit he's ever heard possibly in his whole life.

"Right, sure. She might be your "girlfriend" or whatever, but that doesn't really mean shit when I'm all she thinks about every time she's with you." He countered with a level of pride that made Ken's blood boiling hot.

"Ooooo..." Both Kazutora and Keisuke murmur lowly. "That was excellent. He won with that one." Kazutora says, hovering a hand over his mouth. "To be honest, Ryuguji was never gonna win this. They've been "together" for like two years and he's still never bothered to make it official?! No, he's trash. Completely fumbled the bag."

"Y/N's pretty too, he really-

Kazutora cuts himself off, watching with wide eyes as Ryuguji suddenly goes for a punch right for Hanma's face. "OOOOHHHH!" The two guys gasp loudly. "I knew that was comin'." Keisuke shakes his head. Ken went and set things off to a whole other level. Both of them start full out fighting right in the middle of the waiting area...in the middle of a hospital.

"Shit, alright, we gotta jump in! You get Hanma, I'll handle Ryuguji!" Keisuke says hurriedly. The two of them sort of scramble around for a second, trying to figure out where to put their snacks before just leaving it all on the floor and racing over to the fight.

"Ryuguji, chill the fuck out! You're in a hospital! This is crazy!" Keisuke scolds, grabbing him by the forearm. It was like Kei wasn't even there with the way Ken just kept swinging and shit talking. It didn't take too much for Kazutora to get Hanma to back off, seeing as he wasn't nearly as pissed.

"Just admit you're jealous, Hanma!" Ryuguji shouts.

"You're so delusional it's actually sad. The only one jealous is you 'cause you know Y/N doesn't feel the same way about you!" Shuji retaliates.

"Don't even bother, don't even bother." Kazutora says, shaking his head as he tries to drag Hanma along towards the hallway him and Keisuke had just came from.

"Do you even actually give a shit about her-

"Ryuguji shut the fuck up!" Keisuke outbursts loudly. That last bit Ken had said just hit him all kinds of wrong. Finally he shuts up, no longer struggling against Keisuke's grasp as he looks at him with wide eyes, completely caught off guard that he'd went and yelled at him like that.

"You're really over here talkin' about if he gives a shit about Y/N?! Do you even realize that as soon as you got here the very first thing you decided to do was start a stupid ass argument with Hanma when your supposed girlfriend is literally laying in a hospital bed right there?!" Keisuke rants, pointing over at your room just a few feet away.

Ken freezes, the awareness of what he did, or rather didn't do, finally starting to sink in. There were so many people staring at him, looks of distaste being thrown his way from the nurses, families, and patients alike.

"Exactly. I swear Ryuguji I don't know what the hell's goin' on with you lately, but you need to get it together real fuckin' quick. There's no way you really believe you love Y/N when not at any point did you go and check on her, or even just look at her to see if she's fine! She got drugged, bro; she had a seizure! When I went in there she was scared as fuck, she could barely even move! You'd actually know all that had you gone in there to see her!"

The more Keisuke spoke the more utterly embarrassed Ken felt. Once again he goes and screws everything up by running his mouth. It wasn't like he wasn't worried about you or didn't wanna check on you, it's just...when he saw Hanma come out of your room his mind went somewhere else.

It's the fact that he was here before him, already having checked on you and supporting you; probably holding you close and making sure you felt safe. It made him feel like a failure. What good was he when already three other guys were here for you?

It's what he's always been afraid of, that you're just fine and completely unfazed without him. For the longest time that's been his worst nightmare, and somehow he never thought it could get worse than how bad it already was.

Now Hanma's just his nightmare in physical form. The personification of all his fears when it comes to you, and during his entire argument with him all Ken could hear in his mind was:

He's everything I'm not...

Horrific images of the two of you together haunted him every second he looked at Hanma. He could see your arms around him, exchanging kisses and smiles; running your little fingers through his hair. Any thought of your desperate boyfriend completely gone out of your mind.

Honestly Ken just wants you to need him like he needs you. To feel like you have nothing if you don't have him. He wants you to fall apart without him so he can come and piece you back together, like how you'd always do with him. But today just made it obvious.

That's probably never gonna happen...

Then right on cue, he spots someone at the end of one of the hallways that led from the main lobby of the hospital.

Your mother.

Everybody's hearts seemed to drop to their feet at the sight of her. It didn't take rocket science for Shuji and Kazutora to realize you were related. You were this woman's spitting image. "Ms. L/N..." Keisuke whispers under his breath, taking a step away from Ken. With a strained exhale she makes her way over to where Ken and Keisuke are in the center of the waiting area. Kazutora and Hanma are completely frozen, just watching as she approaches the other two.

"Ms. L/N, I-I'm so sorr-

She doesn't even look at Ken, just raises her hand without a word, immediately silencing him. She definitely heard and saw everything, or at least a good portion. That much was obvious.

"Keisuke?" She says lowly, actually looking at him.

"Yes ma'am?" He responds instantly, tone dripping with politeness and respect.

"Take me to my daughter's room. Right now." Ms. L/N demands, her voice making it clear she was not trynna hear anything other than yes.

"Ok. She's in here." He nods, quickly making his way to her side.

"Thank you." She breathes out tiredly.

Ken stands there, eyes wide in a mixture of embarrassment and shock. Your mom really chose Keisuke over him...right in front of him. She'd rather a friend go in there with her than her own daughter's boyfriend?! At this point he couldn't tell which thing hurt more, the fact that you're slipping away from him, or the fact that your mom didn't even trust him anymore. 

Later That Evening

Your eyes could barely stay open from how tired you are at this point. You needed your bed immediately, and nothing else. 

The examination process was finally over, and you were almost cleared to leave the hospital, but your mom's constant rambling and nagging was just getting started. 

"-You hear me? Not another second with that boy!" 

"Who? Keisuke?" You murmur tiredly, brows slightly furrowed in genuine confusion. 

"No! I mean that boy you've been messing around with! He's caused nothing but trouble for you, and I've had enough! I'm over it; this is too much!" She stresses, gesturing towards all of you with a hand. 

"He's not the one that did this." You shake your head. It hadn't even fully registered to you that she's somehow well aware about you and Shuji. 

"That's not the point, Y/N. I don't want you around him anymore; I mean that." 

You didn't have the energy to put up much of a fight and protest, honestly you were sure you'd probably go home and forget this conversation too just like everything else from today. Once the doctors clear you, your mom decides to be the one to take you back to your dorm, leaving Keisuke, Ken, and everyone else to head off by themselves. 

Your mom came with you all the way up to your dorm room, making sure you were in there safe and sound before finally heading out. Of course not without making it clear for the thousandth time that she doesn't want you anywhere near Shuji.

 Immediately you practically rip your clothes off then plop face first right onto your plush bed. "What kind of day was this?" You whisper to yourself, that weighty, dark feeling making its way back onto your shoulders with full force. It was shocking yet really not that no more tears were left, your body too exhausted to do anything else but lay. Weakly you get yourself under the blankets, snuggling and curling into a little ball to comfort yourself and bring some warmth. 

A/N🧚🏾‍♀️: AAAWWWWWW Not the confession🥺 I had been debating fro a while with this chapter if I wanted the reader or Shuji to confess first teehee

[imaginespazzi]

I am back with my usual GH review 😁😁 here we go to Chapter 9:

- that chapter was 7.2k words?? No fucking way dude. It was so good that I was rereading certain paragraphs during the first read, but nonetheless, the chapter went by so quick bc of how good it was 😭😭

- PAIGE AND AZZI FINALLY STOPPED PLAYING?? No more blue balls Paige omfg 😭 I know she was thanking every god in existence for that night LMAO

- I loved how you chose to let Paige receive first and then Azzi. I feel like Paige was more apprehensive of pushing boundaries with Azzi, and that she wouldn’t have initiated sex unless if Azzi did. Player P becomes Putty P when it comes to Azzi (and this is true IRL as well lmaooooo). I loved how soft that moment was for them and the words of affirmations you included for both sides.

- Azzi being self conscious of her body after having Stephie?? Azzi you will always be the most beautiful girl out there no matter what, and I am so glad that Paige was there to reassure her of that 😭. God, the way that you wrote that scene was PERFECTION

- Azzi talks about the times they had sex before (after Azzi had Stephie), and that they had the lights off one time and then the other time, Paige was too drunk. I know one of the times was after the UConn vs Notre Dame game and I’m assuming that’s the “Paige being too drunk” time, when was the other time??

- Katie clocking Paige staying over at Azzi’s?? You gotta love Katie Fudd lmaooo the biggest Pazzi shipper one might say in this fic??

- I also loved how you included the children (Ice, KK, and Jana). KK being slightly pro-Paige and then Jana being slightly pro-Azzi. It just shows how P+A’s situation highly affected those around them as well.

- And Stephie is back!! She is so spoiled haha, getting whatever she wants! But hey, we know that Paige cannot say no to Azzi, and the same goes for her with Stephie as well.

As always, thank you for the amazing writing Nivi! I honestly look forward to your updates every week. It makes the start of the week so much better haha. I hope you had a great vacation as well and good luck being back in school!

Hi lovely I appreciate you! Lemme know if you want an emoji <3

- LMAO well I did give y'all almost 4K smut so, 7.2K wasn't hard to reach lol

- PUTTY P STOP I LOVE THAT because she really does but yeah I think it was important to have Azzi start the whole thing because she's the one that held back and I think Paige really needed to see her sort of be the one to push their relationship further.

- Azzi's always perfect my princess no matter waht

- The UConn vs Notre Dame game is the one with the lights off. The drunk one is for me to know and y'all to potentially find out tee hee

- They're really just poor children of divorce and even though they love both parents dearly, they're both definitely biased in certain ways.

- Stephie's just always gonna get what she wants and she's a little shit who knows very well how to get it too.

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - Part 19 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: References to sex. Continued ANGST. Medication/drug use/overdose mentions. Dub con mentions(sort of?). Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 8.1k

A/N: Thank you for your patience, my beautiful lil mamas, Part 19 is finally here! We are back in Reader's headspace, and lordy, oh lordy, it's A LOT...just remember, I DID warn and promise y'all pain before a happy ending. And the end is coming soon. 😭 I know, babies, I know. 💖

If you so desire, you should now have the ability to tip my blog or different chapters in the story! Some of you have been asking about this, and of course, no one is obligated to do so! If you do choose to tip, thank you so much! I've never had anyone want to pay for my work before, so this is a big step towards my romance novelist dreams. 💜

I am so FREAKIN' GRATEFUL for every single one of you babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE EXTRAORDINARY! I didn't in a million years expect this kind of support and response for Pink Scarf, and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my AO3 account, as well as my NEW Wattpad account. so if you are so inclined, you can check it out/support me over there with kudos and votes and whatnot!)

Silence.

For the first time in over a week, you aren’t bombarded with images of the past or worries for the future as your subconscious desperately tries to guide you places you are not ready to go to yet. As you stir awake, you feel somewhat rested, peaceful almost. Your eyes flutter open and even though the room is dim, you still squint and hiss at the light that pierces through your eyes and seems to rocket through your head like a spear. You can’t help but groan a little at the pain behind your eyes.

The room is not familiar, however, which sets you on edge, that peacefulness of good sleep draining from you quickly. Frantically, you try to puzzle out where you are and how you got here but thinking sends a wave of nausea through you that you can’t ignore. You groan again at the feeling and crack your eyes open the slightest bit.

A man, first crouched in the uncomfortable looking chair he’s perched in, sits up ramrod straight at your movements. Despite the dark circles around his eyes, he’s a vision to behold. You know without a doubt he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on, what with his high cheekbones, lusciously pouty lips, and chiseled jaw covered in what looks to be a day’s worth of dark stubble. Raven hair frames his face, thick sideburns curling at his ears and locks haphazard on his forehead. And those eyes, dear lord, those impossibly long, dark lashes rim his eyes. His eyes, which feel as deep and dark blue as the ocean itself, cut through the fog in your head, widening and looking over you with care and concern.

You know those soulful, familiar eyes anywhere.

Elvis.

You blink and the world starts to snap into focus. Through the pain and nausea, you take in your surroundings. The uncomfortable bed you’re in. The IV in your arm. The dreary paint on the walls. The smell of antiseptic.

The hospital. You are in the hospital.

This must be why Elvis looks positively distraught, his large hand now frantically grasping at yours on the bed. You swear he is shaking, steadied only once he touches you and a wave of relief falls over his handsome yet worried features.

“Y/n. Oh thank God, y/n,” he murmurs. “Are you okay? How do you feel? What do you remember?” he barrages you with questions that you aren’t sure you have the answers to yet, especially with the way your head is pounding so distractingly. For some reason, the whole scene suddenly strikes you as silly, what with the most famous man in the world looking at you so damn seriously. You can’t help yourself.

“Who…who are you?” you croak out quietly, your unused voice cracking.

The look on his face is priceless as he rolls through shock, terror, and dismay all at once. His face falls dramatically then and there is no way you can keep up the pretense because the little boy look that comes over him is just too much.

“Gotcha,” you chuckle, cracking a smile that suddenly makes your face feel like it’s on fire and making you regret your smile instantly.

“You little minx,” he growls, a relieved grin spreading over his face before he sees the pain on your face. “You’re hurtin’. Goddammit, I should’ve killed him…” he mutters heatedly under his breath.

It takes more than a moment to process what he is saying and connect that with the burning tightness of the left side of your face. You bring your hand up slowly, gingerly touching the unfamiliar swollen, hot flesh of your cheek. You can’t help but hiss at the painful sensation that runs over you when you do so.

You close your eyes, feeling Elvis’ heavy but comforting hand squeeze yours.

What in the hell happened?

Reaching back in your memory, you attempt to piece together why you are here, why you are in so much pain. Dread fills your heart as flashes of memory come at you:

Jack accosting you in the bathroom.

Losing his mind at seeing the hickies on your breast.

Him dragging you out and humiliating you in front of everyone.

Then…then…

Oh, god.

Jack did this. He hit you.

Your head falls back, and you cover your eyes with your free hand. A wave of shock, then a wave of deep sadness overcomes you. Hot tears spring to your eyes and spill down your cheeks and you don’t attempt to stop them. The salt of them stings the abrasions on your face.

How could he? How could he?

Sobs wrack your body, each one a pulse of pain through your head, shooting red-hot through you. You knew, you knew deep down it was over, but you never expected it to come to this. You never thought Jack had it in him to truly hurt you. But you are lying in a hospital bed, living proof that the man you once loved was truly gone.

And it feels devastating, yet also strangely relieving, in a way you could’ve never imagined.

“Oh, Satnin, baby. Oh, I’m so, so sorry,” Elvis whispers at you, clutching your hand, his concern evident but unsure.

The wave of devastation crashes over you, both the physical and psychic pain nearly unbearable as it throbs in your head. You feel utterly raw. Humiliated. Gutted. Guilty. Relieved. Furious.

The sudden image of slapping Jack’s face as he knelt bloody on the floor resonates through you, the sting still evident in your palm.

Elvis had almost killed Jack, blinded by a protective rage, you now remember. You’d stopped him.

Part of you wishes you hadn’t.

It all feels quite unreal yet simultaneously overwhelming, all these flashes of memory hitting you in rapid succession. And you know there are more troubling memories waiting in the wings, ready to knock you off your feet once again. You can sense them lingering at the edges of your mind, somehow closer than they have ever been but still just out of reach.

All at once you don’t feel strong enough to bear them.

Everybody knows, you suddenly realize. Your affair with Elvis was now out there for everyone to see, for everyone to judge. You open your tear-filled eyes to look at the beautiful man before you, the one you love so much it feels as though it might destroy you, because god knows you haven’t forgotten that. You cannot bring yourself to regret being with him, no matter if it led you to be here, broken and battered in a hospital bed in Las Vegas.

But something is not right. Something besides the obvious. And it’s right there, just out of view.

Your head hurts too much to dwell on it, however.

“I’m gonna take care of you baby,” Elvis finally says after what you realize is too many moments of silence. “Don’t you worry about a thing. I won’t let him hurt you ever again.”

The way he says it so softly and with such righteous conviction strikes something within you. The clasp of his hand on yours is almost too tight, the look on his face both filled with remorse and determination. You know what he says is true—he will not leave you to face this alone.

Despite this, the uncomfortable elephant in the room lingers: you would not be here if not for Elvis, and you both know it.

But with the pain in your body and the ache in your heart, that is not a mountain you can begin to climb yet. There are too many unanswered questions that you need to figure out and this is not the time or place. So, you let Elvis hold your hand with that mournful look in his churning eyes and you try to heal.

*

“Watch your step, watch your step!” Elvis supports you gingerly, his strong arm holding you at the waist, as if just walking will shatter you into a thousand pieces.

“E, I’m okay. I promise I can walk on my own. It’s just one step,” you say, trying to keep the annoyance out of your tone. He’s been hovering as much as possible for the past two days you’ve been under observation at the hospital, only leaving when absolutely necessary to do his two shows a night. He sent the hospital staff into a tizzy with demands for your care while still managing to be charming and effusive to all the employees in a way that only he could get away with.

You’re not sure that he’s slept in the past few days, as he seems obsessed with making sure you are alright. Your pleas for him to go back to the hotel and get some rest fell on deaf ears. Hopefully, now that you’ll be in the hotel, he will relax a little.

While your face is healing, it is still covered in a nasty bruise, which you are reminded of every time Elvis looks at you because the wince that passes over his features, while nearly imperceptible to others, is quite evident to you. It serves to remind you how you got here and how he seemingly thinks him controlling everything about your recovery is going to somehow put you back together and make everything how it was before.

But it’s not like it was before.

Not with the looks that the Mafia are giving you. You can sense their pity, their judgement, their fear. Because Elvis having a known affair with you threatens them all. What if it was their wife or girlfriend? What if Elvis turns on them the way he turned on Jack? Jack was their friend, too. It’s written all over their faces. And you can tell they’ve been put on best behavior because more than usual they defer to Elvis, and they are suddenly wildly uncomfortable around you, even though you’ve been part of the group for years.

You can’t help but feel like the king’s consort. The mistress. The usurper.

The only exceptions are Jerry and Sandy, of course. And Charlie, in his usual Charlie way, has been kind and endearing. But the rest are quiet. Too quiet.

You don’t know what’s happened to Jack. You also haven’t seen Red, though you can’t say you’re upset about it. The few times you tried to ask Elvis, he brushed you off, saying you didn’t need to worry about such things while you’re trying to recover.

All of it has you unsettled. You knew there would be consequences, of course you did, but you didn’t expect it to be this strange.

Thankfully, your headaches are becoming less frequent, but when they do come, they are intense and debilitating, and weirdly, each one brings a host of images and fractured memories that you must try to make sense of. The doctor said this should hopefully get better as your brain heals from the concussion. A full recovery, he said, but it might take some time. Elvis takes this to mean you need constant care, and honestly you don’t have the energy to argue with the man about it right now, so you let him escort you into his bedroom suite as though you are frail and fragile.

“There you go, Satnin, all set,” he says, fluffing the mountain of pillows behind you, and then he gently takes off each of your shoes. You lean back with a sigh, suddenly grateful for the comfort of his huge bed in his penthouse suite because that hospital bed was truly terrible.

“Maybe you wanna to get into your pajamas?” he suggests. “I had all your things brought up, but I also went ahead and bought you some things, since I know you hadn’t planned on being here this long, and—” he rambles. The look on his face is almost childlike in his need to please you, to take care of you. It is quite the adjustment after spending a week basking in his masculine sexual dominance.  You aren’t complaining at this change in him; in fact, it reminds you of when you first met, of those early years. It’s just giving you a bit of whiplash.

“It’s okay, honey, I’m fine for now,” you interrupt, trying to keep your tone light. Bringing your hand up, you pinch the bridge of your nose as another headache threatens. Overly attuned to you, Elvis grabs one of your feet and starts rubbing, using his strong hands to knead deep into the sole of your foot.

The hurts-so-good feeling has you groaning and your head falling back onto the pillows.

“That feel good, mama?” he drawls quietly.

All you can do is nod and hum in response. You’re certain if this had happened a few days ago, that statement, this action, would be laced with a fierce sexual energy. You imagine that it would last only a minute before he pounced and worked you into a state of pleasurable bliss. That latent desire is still there—you can sense it—but with everything that has happened, it takes a backseat to your pain.

This both saddens you and makes you feel grateful. You covet your sexual relationship with him, as it is the definitive thing you know he wants and needs from you. You know this for sure, and with your ever-present uncertainty about the rest of your relationship, it makes you feel off-kilter to not be able to share that with him. However, his commitment to being by your side despite the lack of sex, has been somewhat reassuring. You desperately hope it’s not just a sense of guilt that keeps him here with you.

You sigh, your eyes falling shut, and relish in the feel of his hands on you in such a comforting way as he treats one foot, then the other, to this intimate treatment. But he is uncharacteristically quiet.

He practically has you in a stupor by the time he finishes with the second foot, managing to stave off your impending headache. Opening your eyes, you catch him looking at you, those deep blues of his taking on a darker hue in the dim lighting. You can see the wheels turning, the way his hand flexes and releases over his tailored pants, how he worries his bottom lip with his teeth.

“What is it, E?” you ask gently, almost afraid it might spook him.

“I-I-I…can I hold you?” he stutters, changing tactics midway to get the sentence out, betraying his nerves.

“Of course, baby,” you respond quietly.

“I-I just don’t want to hurt you,” he says, crawling up the comforter to lie next to you. “Are ya sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” you say, as he curls into you, his arm coming over you.

All at once, you are flooded with memory. Your teenage bedroom. Your single bed. Elvis nestling close into your side, his cheeks still salty with tears. The way your heart races at his proximity and the way his touch, though innocent, burns through you like wildfire. His breath warm on your neck, tickling your bare skin.

He shows up on your doorstep such a mess, coming to you, of all people. You don’t quite understand it. (You’re still not sure you understand it—why it’s you, of all people, at that point in his life, that he’d chosen to come to.)

You fall into caring for him so easily, like it is second nature to run your fingers through his hair and massage his back as he cries in your lap, even though you’ve never touched him like this, so intimately, before. When he asks to stay, those bedroom eyes of his begging, your heart leaps in a way you are ashamed of. Your entire body feels on fire, flustering you as you consider the implications, consider just how badly you do want him to stay, and if it’s worth it to see where this might go.

It only gets worse when you find him stripped down to his underwear, waiting for you innocently in your bedroom, a place no man has stayed before. Your heart stops in your chest at the sight of him sitting there, exhausted and emotionally spent. Before you take him into your bed, he’s so good in reassuring you he would never hurt you, that he won’t touch you like that. Of course, he wouldn’t; you know this. But your trepidation isn’t because you are afraid he’ll take advantage of you—it is because part of you wants him to.

The memory makes you blush furiously. Yet another important moment you had buried so deep that remembering it now makes it feel like it just happened.

After the initial tension of him being curled so close into you wanes, you relax and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t go. Oh, how you relish in the softness of his skin against yours, the musky scent and heat of him surrounding you as he holds on to you through the night. You wake up multiple times, thinking you must be dreaming that Elvis is in your bed, but are pleasantly surprised to really find him there, his warm, lean, young body pressing into yours in various ways. The moonlight through the window lets you see just how innocently beautiful and vulnerable he is like this, like some kind of angel not of this world, his long lashes falling over his cheeks. You feel grateful to see him this way, tucking the moment away in your mind. Despite the rollercoaster of hormones coursing through you, you’ve never felt so safe before, not with Ted, not with any man.

Or felt so aroused. That terrified you, you think, as the wave of feeling crashes over you in the present. You want him with an intensity that shocks you to your core. But he is your friend, for god’s sake, and he’d come to you upset and trusted you to help him, and here you are, suddenly lusting after him like every other girl on the planet. Oh, yes, you are so very ashamed of yourself, for the dirty thoughts you’re thinking.

But, oh, how you imagine him waking to kiss you passionately, willing him to touch you everywhere, wanting him to run his long, calloused fingers up under your nightgown and into your panties. Thinking that, in an instant, he could easily slide between your legs, and you would let him. You’ll gladly give yourself to him right this minute if he wants you. You screw your eyes shut, trying unsuccessfully to block out the image of him slowly entering you, joining with you, rocking you into submission, into ecstasy.

Back then, those thoughts were more dangerous than anything, especially when the man in question was in your bed already, holding you close. It was a different time, and at nineteen, you were young and bound by propriety, and yet, in that moment, you hadn’t cared about that part.

But it is Elvis. Your dear friend. He doesn’t think of you that way. He’s on the brink of stardom and already has half the country fawning over him, with girlfriends in every town. You know this, logically. You know this, but for the first time, you allow yourself to think that maybe there is more to the two of you than just friendship. That maybe there is a reason he’d come to you in his hour of need.

A wave of heartache rolls through you as you recall that next morning. You blearily wake up from your fitfully aroused but somehow comforting slumber to him pulling you close, pressing the front of his body into the back of yours. The heat of him permeates through the thin cotton of your nightgown, which is quite a pleasing sensation in the cold of this late-winter morning. You sigh and wiggle back into him instinctually, before you can think too much on it, just needing to be closer to him. But then he jumps out of the bed in a flash, as if you were on fire, scurrying to clothe himself, and then he practically leaps out the window to get away from you.

He didn’t want you. Of course, he didn’t want you. He probably regrets the whole thing, with the way he leaves you lying there. He is Elvis Presley, after all. Your friend, but nothing more. You’d been foolish to think it anything more.

His abrupt absence leaves you cold, tears welling in your eyes, yearning for something you know you could never have from him (or so you’d thought, at the time). You pull the covers over your head, the scent of him on your sheets enveloping you. The grease he used in his hair left a stain on your pillow, but you don’t care in the slightest because it is something tangible, something that lets you know him holding you through the night had been real and not a dream.

Now it hits you suddenly that—oh, god—that was the day Jack had asked you out for the first time. You’d been sad all day, trying to push Elvis out of your mind and Jack had shown up at the diner, suddenly quite brazen in his attraction to you. While you weren’t entirely surprised, as the two of you had been dancing around each other for some time, the timing of it helped bring you out of your funk, reminding you that in the real world, a good man like Jack wanted you.

You’d quickly accepted because you liked Jack and there was no reason not to.

Elvis Presley was just your friend, after all.

Now you realize that in that short 24-hour period, the trajectory of your entire life changed. Maybe you’d fallen into Jack’s arms so quickly because Elvis’ rejection had upset you more than you wanted to admit. It had been easier and more realistic to date Jack, and it had taken your mind off the unwanted thoughts you had for Elvis.

Oh, no.

The intense discovery of this long-hidden memory and the emotions to go with it rocket through your skull with a shooting pain, causing you to hiss. Tears flood your eyes, from both the ache in your heart and the pain in your head.

“Baby, you okay? What can I do?” Elvis shoots his head up, noticing your distress, looking you over carefully.

You can’t explain, not now. “Bad headache,” you breathe out instead. “Can you get my medicine?” You didn’t want to take pain meds if you could help it, but in this moment, everything, pain and otherwise, is too overwhelming and you think maybe you just need some sleep.

So, you take the pill he gives you gratefully. You try not to think about how the way he looks at you now has that same boyish quality it had all those years ago when you’d taken him into your bed and into your arms, and he’d left you cold.

It’s okay, you think. He’s here now, taking care of me. He wants me now, even if he didn’t then.

And with that, you drift aimlessly away into welcome darkness.

*

Everything is fuzzy, the dull ache in your head muddling the flashes that are floating to the surface in your dreams.

You kiss Elvis’ forehead, the tears on his baby-faced cheeks, his pouting, full lips. You can taste the salt of his tears on your tongue.

Not Elvis now, you think, Elvis a long, long time ago.

But that doesn’t make sense. You didn’t kiss Elvis until two weeks ago.

He’s so sad, though, so alone. He needs you, he needs you, he needs you…

And you need him.

But it’s wrong, all wrong. And so right, all at once. Your body tingles through the ache in your head as you ever-so-gently press your lips to his. You’ve wondered for so long what he tastes like.

Soft and sweet, like marshmallows.

His bright blue eyes widen with shock.

“Y/n, baby, you don’t want this…” he whispers. The words echo and swirl around you.

He’s right, isn’t he? You can’t want this. You shouldn’t. Of course not…

You’re so angry, so sad, and he’s so beautiful.

Elvis. Your Elvis.

No, he’s not, he’s not, he’s not.

He belongs to no one. He belongs to the world.

Need pulses through you, a need so deep it brings you to your knees. It cuts through the pain in your head. It singes through your heart.

It’s unbearable.

It burns through you, from the inside out.

Those eyes, deep as the ocean, rimmed in black, plunder your soul. You ride the swell of the waves in them as they rise higher and higher and higher until they shatter underneath you.

The fall is blissful and terrifying, all at once, but Elvis is with you the whole way.

Free falling through the abyss, you are scared. It’s never-ending. You don’t know when you’ll hit bottom, and the anticipation of it runs like ice through your veins.

Guilt. Shame. That ache in your chest.

And then you hit bottom.

*

Your eyes pop open with a shuddering gasp. Gripping the sheets for dear life, you frantically try to piece out where you are, that you are not falling anymore.

Just a dream. Just a crazy, medication induced dream, you pray, seeing that you are in the darkened suite in Elvis’ penthouse.

But the unease remains, lurking more visibly now in the corners of your mind, trying to tell you something you don’t want to hear. Something you don’t want to see.

The door to the bedroom slowly opens and you jump, a hand flying over your chest in surprise. Elvis strides in quietly, clad in his white gi jumpsuit, sweat pouring over him. He must have just finished a show.

You had been asleep a while.

You are still amazed at how his presence fills a room, even when it’s just you here, even when there is no one to impress. He looks gorgeous and you know he’s riding the post-show high by the way his eyes sparkle and by the flush of his cheeks.

“You’re awake, baby. How’re ya feeling?” he asks, gliding over to you on those long legs of his.

You are still reeling from the dream. You shake your head, trying to clear that feeling of dread, of falling, and as he sits on the bed next to you, you are sucked into those oceanic eyes once again.

Your heart races.

“Are you okay?” He looks concerned, brushing your sweaty locks off your forehead, thumb grazing your cheek.

“Are you okay? he whispers, his thumb grazing your cheek. You sit still in his lap, saying nothing and can feel him begin to soften inside of you, the wetness of spent arousal leaking down your thighs under your dress…

The flash of memory hits you hard, because it was then, not now. Triggered by the same gesture, the same man, but it was a different time. He looked so young…

But that’s impossible. Impossible. The first time you had sex with Elvis was less than two weeks ago.

Your heart thunders in your chest because suddenly you don’t think that’s true.

You kiss Elvis’ forehead, kiss the tears on his baby-faced cheeks, and then, with a strange boldness, you kiss his pouting, full lips. You can taste the salt of his tears on your tongue.

His pants scratch at your bare thighs as you straddle his narrow hips. His tongue explores your mouth, sending searing heat through you. Boldly, you rock in his lap, feeling him grow underneath you.

You need him, oh, god, how you need him.

The flashes aren’t complete, but they are real. You are suddenly so sure that they are, and you don’t understand, not at all. You look at Elvis now, wild-eyed, silently seeking answers. How? How?

His long fingers are cold as they part your wet folds, and he pushes one, then another deep into your heat while his thumb massages that ever-sensitive bundle of nerves at the front. It stings at first, this surprising intrusion, but he’s gentle, letting you adjust around him, letting you decide when to move.

Your breath is coming fast now, and Elvis looks more than concerned.

“Satnin, what’s happenin’? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says, eyes searching you.

You screw your eyes shut. This can’t be real. It can’t be.

You sink down on him slowly, the tightness of your canal stretching around his considerable size as you try to take him all in. It’s easier now, after he prepped you with his fingers, and the discomfort wanes quickly as you bottom out. He’s hitting places inside you that you didn’t know existed until this very moment.

Elvis looks utterly ethereal as you begin to ride him, his mouth open and pink, his freshly dyed raven hair falling in his eyes. Everything about him looks carved out by the gods, and his eyes drink you in in a way that strips you bare, right to the heart of you. He looks at you as though you hung the moon and the stars.

Those eyes are now looking at you in a panic.

He brings you to the brink easily and you crest the wave hard, your orgasm fracturing you into a thousand pieces as you fall. You’d never felt this way before, not with Ted, not with Jack, not even with yourself. The pleasure of it rips through you and he follows quickly, a warm, sticky heat pulsing deep as you cling to each other for dear life.

Oh. Oh god…

It was real. You know it now. You are more sure of it now than you’ve ever been.

Graceland, you realize suddenly, when he took you to see Graceland for the first time. That’s where it happened. Nineteen-fucking-fifty-seven.

Elvis and you had sex, a long, long time ago. And he kept it from you. Pretended it never even happened.

You push away from him and stagger off the bed in daze, flooded with so many emotions and sensations at once that you don’t know how to react. Dizzy, you sway a bit on your feet.

Flashes keep hitting you as you move. Waking in the hospital, not knowing how you’d gotten there. Elvis, worried at your bedside. The pills. The accidental overdose.

You think you might be sick.

“What the hell is happenin’? You’re scarin’ me. Talk to me, baby,” Elvis says from behind you. He feels so far away, but that deep seeded need to flee him is rolling through you and you walk unsteadily forward, though you aren’t sure exactly where you are trying to go.

Oh, he must have been so relieved when you didn’t remember anything about that night. That he didn’t have to take back what he’d—you’d—done. That it didn’t completely derail his friendship with you or Jack. That he got to keep being Elvis without any repercussions.

Twelve years. Over a decade built on lies and half-truths and pretending.

Tears are streaming down your burning cheeks now. You feel humiliated. Shocked at both yourself and at him. You’d cheated on Jack, with Elvis. It didn’t matter that Jack had cheated first. You’d had feelings for Elvis all the way back then, feelings you acted on in a moment of vulnerability for both of you. He’d been devastated about June, scared about his fame. You’d wanted to comfort him, but you had also wanted to prove to yourself that if a man like Elvis Presley could want you, then of course Jack should.

You’d thrown yourself at him. He didn’t stop you. And then he lied to you about it all.

If you’d have remembered…Christ, the repercussions would’ve been life altering.

Elvis grabs you then, in the present, his hot, long, ring-clad fingers circling your arm, pulling you back towards him.

And it is then that your anguish fully turns to anger. After everything that has happened these past two weeks, these past fourteen years…Suddenly, that sense of betrayal, your seeming lack of control of anything in your life, all the fear of the past, present, and future, pushes you to the brink. You feel done being at the mercy of the universe, done at being at the mercy of the lies and whims of men.

“Take your fucking hand off me, Elvis,” you hiss, venom in your glare.

You watch as his brilliant blue eyes widen in surprise, and with that, he releases you.

“Is this all a game to you?” you ask pointedly, voice shaking under the weight of your simmering fury.

“W-what?” he says, shaking his head. “Baby, I can’t emphasize enough that I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me for years,” you throw at him. A fueled rage clouds your judgement. You are quickly becoming unhinged and near irrational, but you are unable to stop it, almost like you are possessed, out of your mind, and watching your unusual behavior from afar. It’s as though a part of you wants to blow all of this up and you are powerless to stop this destructive side of yourself.

Elvis throws his hands up in surrender and begins to turn away. “That concussion has you bein’ all crazy, honey. I don’t even know—”

“That day at Graceland, right before you bought it. When I accidentally took too many pills for my headache. You know the one, don’t you?” you interrupt scathingly.

He stops and looks back at you, that pretty brow furrowing, and you think you can sense his panic truly brewing now. “I-I-I thought ya didn’t remember nothin’ about that afternoon.”

“Oh, I didn’t.” You think now you do, but you have to be sure. “You were awfully upset that day because of June, weren’t you? Going on and on about how you’d never know if a women would truly love you. And, come to think of it, you never did tell me how it was that I fell asleep,” you add, turning the knife with both curiosity and fervor, glaring at him.

His eyes truly widen now, his pouty mouth popping open and then shuttering closed again, his pallor turning pale.

And there you have your answer. You are not supposed to know this. He’d told you about June all over again after you’d left the hospital because you hadn’t remembered him telling you at Graceland. But he definitely hadn’t told you again about his insecurity of not knowing if a woman would love him for who he really is.

It’s all true.

That realization is horrible and vindicating and almost relieving all at once. You weren’t wrong when that voice in your head was telling you he was keeping something important from you. You weren’t crazy. And you even think this isn’t all he’s been hiding, but you can’t go there now. It’s too heavy a punch to the gut, and all you see is red.

A frantic, small voice in your head tries to remind you that you should consider Elvis’ feelings about that day, how he was vulnerable and frightened when he couldn’t wake you, and that your concussion has you not in your right mind and missing pieces of all this, but your rage kicks those thoughts aside and you plow forward anyway. You have too many unanswered questions.

“We had sex, Elvis. In 1957! How could you…how dare you then pretend it never happened! How could you not tell me?!” you scream at him, in a way that is utterly unlike the passive and quiet woman you’d become over the years. The woman who had learned to cower instead of speaking up for herself. The stubbornness and fire from your youth flares, driving you forward recklessly. It hurts your head to do it, but you can’t help it.

Elvis just stands there, staring, silent, using that well-honed talent of his to make his beautiful, godlike face an unreadable mask. It kills you inside, but you wait, unwilling to let him off the hook. But he still does not speak.

“Did it even mean anything to you?” you then ask quietly, tears prickling your eyes again, “Or was I just another notch on your bedpost?”

He blinks slowly and presses his lips together, and your heart sinks because you can’t tell if being with him so intimately meant anything to him at all. You should be able to tell, but you can’t, not when he’s shutting you out like this. And that deepest fear being realized both destroys you and pisses you off even more.

Finally, Elvis breaks his silence, voice low and measured and too careful for him, like he’s reciting lines in a movie, “It wasn’t…You were high. Your judgement was impaired. I was mortified...” He trails off, looking away. Then he pauses, taking a deep breath before challenging you with his intense eyes, “And would tellin’ you have changed anythin’?”

You choke at that and shake your head as you turn away from him. The words linger in the air, and you are irate at them, at him. They whirl within you, stabbing you in their coldness. He was mortified by being with you. Good god. The wound of that cracks through you like ice shattering.

You know deep down you didn’t sleep with him because you were accidentally high. You are certain of it. It wasn’t just about getting back at Jack, or just about feeling attractive and desired. No, it was so much more than that. After remembering what you have, you know you’d given yourself to Elvis willingly, medication or no, doing something you’d sworn after Ted that you wouldn’t do again until marriage.

He presses you on this, this thing you can’t believe he’s asking. “Would it’ve? You were with Jack, you loved Jack. And I’d just gotten home and was leavin’ again just as fast. What would’ve it changed, y/n, other than to make things awkward between us and ruin our friendship? Other than to ruin what you had with Jack?” Elvis asks from behind you, his gravelly voice strained.

You’re shaking now, your whole being quaking with physical and emotional toil, another headache slamming down upon you. Yes, you’d loved Jack, you truly had. And you know you’ve fallen in love with Elvis these past few weeks. But all of this craziness—these revelations, these secrets, these memories—are finally confirming something your mind has been trying to tell you lately about all those years ago, something you suspected and feared, but didn’t want to admit:

You have been in love with Elvis since the beginning. You had loved him then just as you love him now. And if you had remembered that, if he’d wanted it, if he had asked you, at any point, you think would’ve dropped everything for him.

Even if it would’ve ruined you both.

A bile of panic rises in your throat because, besides the times you truly can’t remember because you’d literally been dying, there had been all those other moments throughout the years where you’d pushed down your love for him. Important pieces of your life that you’d just forgotten, sometimes right away, in order to spare yourself the pain of this realization, the pain of Elvis’ rejection.

Maybe it started in the diner when he comforted you after Ted broke your heart, or maybe it began even earlier because god knows you can’t trust yourself or your memory. In fact, you are quite sure that there are still things he’s keeping from you, pivotal things you still don’t remember and it’s maddening. But after the diner, it feels like every moment you repressed is a missing piece to the puzzle of your life and reminder of how everything has gone so completely wrong.

Oh, and isn’t it rich that you are laying into him about keeping this naughty little tryst from you when you’ve been conveniently forgetting all these crucial moments of your relationship over your lifetime, a logical voice in the back of your head hurls at you.

Fuck you, you throw back, dread seeping through you.

And now your deepest fears are confirmed—Elvis hadn’t wanted you, not like that. He was mortified by it, in fact. He had a taste of you in a moment of weakness, because he’s just a man after all, and got lucky when you didn’t remember. Thinking better of it, he kept it all to himself. All these years, he’d lied by omission. And for some goddamned reason, he’d swung back around to you after all this time, destroying your life as you knew it in the process.

You spin back around to face him. Nausea rolls in your stomach because, suddenly, you’re not sure you know the man in front of you at all.

“Fuck you, Elvis Presley. It would’ve changed everything,” you say vehemently, honestly, leveling him with your stare.

And it looks like you just slapped him by the way he recoils.

You can’t stop yourself from digging deeper, too angry to care, “But I’m sure that’s not what you wanted, since you were so quick to decide that I didn’t need to know, so fucking cocksure that you didn’t even deem to ask what I wanted. No, you just got laid and got lucky and moved right on to the next girl.”

“Th-that’s not—“ he sputters, those azure eyes a little frantic.

“Isn’t it, though, Elvis? Isn’t that exactly what happened? We fucked and you decided it was a bad idea, so you didn’t bother to tell me when I couldn’t remember myself. Who cares what I thought, right?! Then you went on with your life as though nothing happened.”

As if it hadn’t mattered at all, as though you hadn’t mattered enough to bother. You can’t bring yourself to say that part, though, as the icy pain of saying the rest out loud like this sends more tears pouring down your cheeks, despite your anger wanting to keep them at bay.

As if the rest isn’t bad enough, another thought hits you sideways, “My god, you even pushed Jack to marry me, didn’t you?” You look at him incredulously, remembering how Jack had joked about it after he’d proposed. The words ache through you as you say them, as you realize the implications of that. Yet another one of your deepest fears confirmed.

Elvis looks stricken as he backs up to the bed and sinks down on the edge, putting his head in his hands.

“I-I-I w-was no good for you,” he mumbles.

“You don’t get to decide that, Elvis! You took those choices away from me!” you cry at him.

You watch as he holds his tongue, as his body stiffens at your words. His jaw clenches and his breathing changes. You know the signs by now, but you don’t care. You don’t care that he’s getting ready to explode and that it’s you pushing him over the edge. You want him over the edge. You want him to care enough to be mad about it.

“And what? Did you finally decide after twelve years that maybe you did like my pussy after all, so you decided to come back for more?” you spit at him nastily, driving him right over the threshold.

“I was protecting you!” Elvis bellows, leaping to his feet, face red with anger. His eyes darken and flash in a way that might have caused you to pause before, but not today, not after this.

You don’t let up. “Protecting me from what exactly? A bad marriage? A man that doesn’t love me?” you laugh haughtily at the irony.

He doesn’t elaborate, just bites his tongue in frustration and glowers at you, pulling himself back.

Then, another sinking realization drags you under. “Good lord—you had your hands in my relationship with Jack every step of the way. From day fucking one. You pushed us onto each other, a-a-and then you took him away from me, over and over again. The women Jack ‘dated’…Jesus, that was when he went to Vegas to see you that first time, wasn’t it? Of course. I should’ve known that’s when he started fucking other women. Because of you,” you point at him, more fury boiling in your stomach as you ramble.

God, was it all lies and subterfuge? Every fucking thing in your life related to these men?

Elvis stands there, jaw gritted so hard he might crack his veneers, his hands fisted at his sides, his leg going a million miles an hour. But you don’t stop.

“And then you came back home to find me upset, pretended like you didn’t know why, and then you fucked me?” The memories come to you too quickly, too painfully, fractured moments flashing in your aching head, weaving back together what you’d lost for so long, fueling your pain, fueling you forward. “And that was just the beginning. You sucked Jack and me both into your world, then played with our lives because…why? Why, E?” you demand.

Still, he says nothing, eyes fierce and his body vibrating with energy, letting you continue your verbal assault.

Your heart is going so fast you fear it’s going to explode, but you continue anyway, knowing that this isn’t like you, that perhaps this isn’t truly what you want. I love him, don’t I? But you are so mad, so exhausted from feeling like a plaything in the lives of the men around you, that you can’t stop. They’ve treated you as if you have no agency of your own. As if you were nothing without them. And you are done.

You shake your head. “You screwed with our lives because you could. You and your fucking egomaniacal, insane, manipulative bullshit. Nobody can be happy unless the King is happy, right? What the fuck is wrong with you?” you hiss, beside yourself with anger at him, on what he’d done to your life. In this moment, your love for him is entirely consumed by your rage, as your addled and bruised brain tries to piece together just how screwed up this entire situation is.

Elvis roars then and sweeps everything off the nightstand, sending things shattering and flying to the floor. You do your best not to wince at the outburst, unwilling to let him shake you. Then, he looks at you, like a caught, caged beast, his chest heaving and eyes dangerous. But he isn’t blacked out, and you know it because you can see the gears working in his head. You can see that the emotion in his face is not anger alone. There is a deep pain there and it confuses you.

Dread settles into a knot in your stomach because suddenly you can’t shake that terrible feeling that you are still missing something vital here, something both Elvis and your traitorous brain are keeping from you, but your head is pounding and your blood is up and you can’t think straight.

You stand toe-to-toe, staring at each other, chests heaving in the heavy silence.

He breaks first, but with an almost frightening level of clarity that you don’t expect after his outburst. “Fine. Y-you w-w-wanna make me th-the-the villain in this story, then fine, I-I’m th-the fucking villain, honey. I-I-I always w-was,” he stutters wildly, cutting, his stormy eyes narrowing like a crocodile as he levels you with them.

He doesn’t deny any of it. He doesn’t even defend himself anymore.

You don’t know what to do with that.

All you know is you hurt. Everything aches, inside and out. You feel like an absolute fool. You are infuriated with him and maybe even more furious at yourself. Then, your heart breaks, sending a wave of sorrow flooding through your chest and down your limbs.

Everything with Jack was bad.

Somehow, this is worse.

It feels like your entire world has been pulled from underneath your feet. The devastation you felt about Jack feels like nothing now compared to Elvis’ betrayal, and the weight of both together is crushing you from all angles.

There is no escape. You can’t breathe.

Somehow, you’ve lost them both. Or maybe you never really had either of them to begin with.

You silly, stupid girl. I tried to warn you.

You manage to hold back the sob that threatens to break you.

Wordlessly, you nod, clench your fists, then turn and walk out.

Elvis doesn’t stop you.

*

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[shiny-jr]

I've read the sneak peak for the fourth, and genuinely, this one is the one I'm most excited for—especially with that sneak peak!

I wonder how Jamil will realize that the parrot is no longer the same person he knows, and when the reader accidentally threads past a line that they shouldn't have with Jamil. And if the reader will have their relationship with Prince Jaseer progress further, and take a change—then, the thief too, that will be playing Aladdin, how would they interact? And the genie! I'm excited to see who will get to the genie first, will it still be the thief, Jamil, the reader, or someone else entirely? (It would be funny if the story takes a drastic stir away from the original and things become more complicated, that the reader realizes, that they could no longer rely on the story anymore, but their mind to thread now because the story became so obscured). And of course, the dynamic between Jamil and the reader is so fun! It feels more livelier than the last ones.

It felt comfortable in a way—yet that's the thing that makes it disturbing when things finally become downhill. When Jamil has a shift in the way he speaks towards the reader, or when he realizes that it isn't the parrot. And what if another character entirely realizes the change too (similar to how Jade did)? And what happens if the reader does get to the lamp first? What then? And what if they couldn't wish to return, but instead, have to waste a wish for somethin else entirely?

I'm just filled with so many what-ifs right now that I'm getting so excited! I think this may be my favorite one already compared to the others, and straying away from peak-4. I'm also curious if you'll have one of the readers for the chapter take the role of the hero, or the villain instead, and the yandere takes the role of something else—a hero, etc. Someone just unexpected, it would be fun, though, I do love where you're taking this story <3!!

(Savanaclaw)

I think this one's so good—yet at the same time, I wish we got to see more interactions between Leona and the reader, it would be lovely. But at the same time, it was perfect, the scene where Leona spreads the blood on his hand to their face was so lovely and it in a way, it was like a message to say, you (we) did this. And it just stuck to my mind so hard!! Compared to the rest, it felt the most intriguing one.

And just a question, did you consider having the reader's identity be discovered by Ruggie and the people, or having reader possess a different person? And what made Leona say that the Hyena chieftain wouldn't be this "daring to speak like this to him" (quotations because I can't exactly remember the exact bit, I'm so sorry 😭) have he interacted with the chieftain before the reader? And why does Leona want the reader? Is it due to them being "outwordly?"

And did Ruggie sometimes felt something was off with the chieftain or no? (As he did knew the chieftain since they were young). And did you thought of placing Jack in another role, rather than being a guard? And imagined a what if that the plan still fails, and Cheka still manages to escape? Or a different role entirely?

I'm so sorry if I have a lot of questions and just, word-vomitting on you right now. But I hope it's not too much of a bother—if it is, feel free to ignore this, and have a great day!

Long comment about damnation, let's goooo. I love these, y'all have no idea. I love explaining little lore and tidbits and behind the scene stuff, because there's a surprising amount that goes into making such a long project like damnation. I even have a Pinterest board I like to work on and add to the further I get into the project. But anyways, back to responding to this ask.

I'm so so happy people like the Scarabia sneak-peek! It's a huge relief! I read over the first draft and was just :// meh, this is kinda boring. This is not it. Which is why I decided to change it and spice it up, so I'm glad that it paid off and I made the right decision to do so! Here's to hoping that I can make the rest of it as interesting, hopefully even enough to make people wonder if Scarabia was better than Heartslabyul.

About the whole Jamil find out mc's real identity, I can't exactly reveal that because it would be major spoilers, but I have that roughly planned out. Whether it'll actually happen or not, I guess you'll just have to wait and see. Of course the same goes for the whole plot thing. Can't reveal too much. But again, I am happy people are enjoying Jamil and mc's relationship dynamic!

Like I said in a previous post, writing this based off Jafar and Iago is a lot more fun because they had really fun interactions and dialogue between each other. Like, mc is the only one that can call Jamil a snake to his face and he'd actually be cool with it, anyone else and he'd be plotting their demise. I guess I can reveal this, but at some point in the story, something will happen and I plan for mc to talk to Jamil and say something along the lines of, "Okay, master, I'll get you the dark wizard daily so you can enchant yourself some bitches." I really want to add this line, not sure if I actually will though.

Anyways, about the roles, the mc will never take a role other than the henchman. The characters we know will remain villains, and the protagonists will remain heroes. That's kinda like, the whole theme of this project. Henchman mc, nothing else.

As for Savanaclaw, I tried to give Leona more time than the others. Technically he does have more time with mc when compared to Ruggie and Jack. Leona meets mc a total of four times. It was harder to come up with reasons for Leona to appear considering the situation with him as a prince in the kingdom and mc not in the kingdom. Compare that to Ruggie who was with mc since the very beginning, and eventually Jack who would choose to stay beside mc. It was a lot easier for them to appear because they're literally right there. As for the blood thing, you hit the nail on the head. That's exactly what it was! Some people said it was gross and weird, but like... come on, that's kinda the point? The message I'm trying to convey is mc caused this, yes Leona plotted it but mc is just as guilty. The mcs of this project aren't meant to be morally good.

Ruggie? I mentioned in another post and went into detail about how I originally planned more things for him like him finding out about mc's identity but I ultimately ran out of time for that. Talked about it a bit here.

Anyways, ever since I came up with the concept of this project, Chief!mc was one of the first ones I decided as soon as the ideas formed. Them as well as King!mc. They were the first two I knew for sure what role I wanted them to be. If it's not obvious, Chief!mc is loosely based off Shenzi. Fun fact: I looked for as many voice acting clips that I could find for the Lion King, specifically more for the hyenas and Scar. Might've mentioned this before, but I liked to analyze the voice actor's expressions, the way they moved, or little habits they might've showed and think about adding little similarities to what I was writing. One clip I rewatched a lot was this one. This doesn't account for the fact that I rewatch each movie at least once (usually up to three times or more), and usually replay certain scenes a dozen times or more just to note down every little detail. This process was how I noticed Jafar actually rolls his eyes when Iago is talking and I thought that was a good bit to add for Jamil when mc was talking because it fit perfectly, lol.

Okay, I'm getting way off track. Back to your original question. About what Leona said about the chief. If you think about it, the environment and plot before mc arrived, of course Leona would know about the hyena chief because the hyena folk were always causing trouble for the kingdom he was the prince of. In the beginning, Ruggie reports that Leona was on the borderlands again, meaning he's done it before, he's tried to meet with the chief at least once before. If you take into account the assumption that Falena too has also likely encountered the chief probably more than once likely due to conflicts, it's even safer to say that Leona knows who the chief is and has meet them before too. Finally, Leona doesn't really want them because they're otherworldly. At first Leona may see them as an asset once he realizes that they know way more than they let on, but eventually he comes to enjoy their bickering and teasing and such, and has a lot of fun seeing how certain words and actions puts them on edge. That's how his attraction starts, and begins to snowball into something much more once he realizes that mc is similar to him.

Whew, that was a lot. I hope I answered everything, or mostly everything.

[johnslittlespoon]

I just wanted to say that I witnessed all the dog coded bucky brain rot and its sooo nice to see it come to life 🥲 although i miss the brainrot so muchhhh I appreciate that you're so devoted to the fic bc itsss sooo good (and the affect you had on this fandom is insane bc like I've seen at least 5 fics on A03 referencing the dog coded bucky and from my knowledge you were the creator of that. pioneer shit!!!)

kissesss love youu xxxxxxx

the way this ask came in while i was sitting outside the other day and i teared up so fast i had to flip my sunglasses down off my head over my eyes so i wouldn't get caught lacking SHDGCJK 😭💗

you're so so kind, thank u so very much <3 i feel crazy lucky that y'all were willing to wait and stay interested thru my slow writing process in the like two months i brainrotted ab the dog coded stuff before i finally posted chapter one of the fic– ik attention spans (mine included LOL) jump around lots when it comes to tropes/aus, esp with how much content is created every day and how fast some people are able to write (legends honestly, i am in awe), and it's such a relief to not feel pressured or rushed as i try and get things on the page in a way i picture them and feel happy with and feel comes straight from the heart :')

but i think bucky (or callum's portrayal of bucky lmao) was the dog coded pioneer, like c'mon. look at him. or maybe it was curt, with the "alright, meatball" line in part two, bc that's personally what put the final nail in the coffin for me with dog coded bucky lol <3 but i've said before that if my tumblr legacy (i say, only having made a tumblr like five months ago for the first time in my life) is being the dog coded bucky guy, i'm honoured and feel like i've peaked ig! feel like i've been waiting years to have an excuse to delve into my love for dog/animal motifs in writing so i'm having the time of my LIFE <3

(also aside from one fic i had no idea there were more dog coded bucky fics floating around and i'm tHRILLED, it's what he deserves, i'm so excited to finally get to catch up on my increasingly lengthy to–read list once i'm done writing my fic!! <3 need to return all the love and comments tenfold, i just don't have a brain that lets me simultaneously be in reader and writer mode so i'm v behind on fics, like '10 pages of marked for later on ao3 and a google doc where i've been pasting links to friends fics to catch up on' behind lmaoo)

mwah so much love this was so sweet, made my whole week, sry for being sappy ik i get mushy enough as is in my author's notes but i swear the further along i get in this fic the more sentimental i feel, so thankful this media came into my life when it did, grateful for the friends i've made thru it, etc <33

p.s. i'm not a dog person! i love cats more than anything in the world! what hapepn

[ghost-proofbaby]

GHOOOOST as much as maroon has taken over every single brain cell of mine, i can’t seem to stop thinking about 24 hours!eddie and reader lately! they still got me on a chokehold!

i was just thinking, like in the long run, were they endgame? i know they’re head over heels for each other but like.....are they in it for the long haul? what would happen if like the topic of getting married or having kids was brought up, how are they both going to react? 👀

i’m not asking or forcing you to write a blurb out of this or anything so please don’t feel pressured, i’m genuinely just curious about their lore!!! 😭 and i also miss them so much lmao might end up re-reading the series again while waiting for the next maroon chapter ❤️❤️❤️

anyway i luv u and i hope you’re having a great day!

wanna know a secret? they definitely still live rent free in my mind as well.

they were definitely end game in the long haul of things. in my mind, it's actually funny, because i've thought about them watching their friends constantly getting into relationships and those relationships constantly ending, and yet they're still there and going strong as ever while everyone is just like "...what the fuck?"

nancy and johnathan would probably end up breaking up in the twenty four hours universe. that's actually canon based on a sequel idea i had. like, we're talking not very long after the events of the main fic. nancy would go to reader and probably rant in the midst of her heartbreak "i just don't get it. i thought me and johnathan - we were gonna make it, you know? i thought we had the perfect relationship. and, no offense, but compared to you and eddie, we did." (which she obviously doesn't mean, but she's just hurt and projecting. we all know nancy was a number one reader x eddie shipper). and reader could grow insecure about it and overthink, but when she ends the day getting to gossip all about it to eddie, he just scoffs and said "excuse me? what the hell does that mean? out of spite, we're definitely gonna end up growing old together. gonna mock them from across the retirement home as i kiss all your wrinkles. that'll show them." and she's just reminded that, oh, yeah. it doesn't matter what other people think. this is her idiot for the long haul. and spoiler: it isn't spite keeping them together. it's the way eddie looks at reader like she painted the night sky just for him. it's the way eddie is the first person reader wants to talk to in nearly every scenario, the way he's the first person her eyes draw to in every room no matter how crowded. they bicker endlessly, they aren't always acting the most lovesick and nauseatingly affectionate with each other in front of others, and there's certainly been plenty of fights where the gang holds their breath for the announcement of a breakup, but they always find a way to make it through. always. they're one of those couples, ya know?

and i could also ramble about the whole marriage/kid discussion, but i actually had a short one shot about it i wanted to write! i think i've avoided posting any of the excess content i had planned for them because i don't want to beat a dead horse, you know? it's been over a year now, and even though i love and adore them, i don't want to seem like i'm milking that universe haha. if that's something y'all would like to see now even though it's been so long, i am finally out of my funk with writing them and could probably post some of those one shots! especially because the way they go about conversations like kids/marriage is so fuckin funny to me.

i luv you even more, and hope you have the most wonderful of days, friend <3 thank you for not letting one, but TWO??? of my stories take up residency in your thoughts. it means the world to me and i'm giving you all the hugs and forehead kisses <3

[prince-liest]

The last bus stop in hell is a new favourite. I went absolutely insane when I realised what the fuck Alastor did to get out. The gun shots felt genuinely shocking, I could feel just how angry and out of control Alastor felt when he pulled the trigger and it wasn't even from his perspective!!!!! Genuinely think the fact that you've written this from Angel's pov was a genius move, it keeps the mystery of not ever quite knowing what Alastor's thinking that we have in canon whilst still letting us feel just how angry and violated and reactionary Alastor is in that moment when he lifts the gun and tells Val to beg so he can force Val into a position of weakness and kill him like that. Waffhdhdhgv going crazy stupid. Genuinely think Alastor's pov would have made this a tougher sell (you've kept the fic really kind despite everything. You haven't dragged pain out for the sake of showing pain and I think it works.)

Thinking about how Val uses what he taught Angel, how in your fic Angel mirrors Val is so many little ways because he learnt everything from him and yet still, Angel is a genuinely kind, caring individual despite everything when Val so obviously... Isn't

Thinking about the fact that as proven here, Alastor could look like shit and still no one would dare to so much as look at him too long

Thinking about how genuinely good husk is to still want to make sure "Alastor's" going to be ok even though he's scared shitless. thinking about how kind he is to Angel

Also LOVING the little. Anon culture you have built here. Giving myself a call sign emote.

- ☠️ -spirits

It's 8am and I've already been awake for 4 hours and the brain cells I have remaining just want to go /cups hands around this ask and holds it close to my heart

You have pinpointed so many of the things I was hoping to convey in this story and it just gives me the warm and fuzzies. I was a little unsure about how the subject matter of this fic would be received and y'all have consistently made me very happy I decided to write it. Just. Heart emoji!! Thank you, anon! (Also what a great emoji to choose, hahaha. The anon culture kinda built itself, ILY guys and also cannot believe there are so many!)

Speaking of which: MORE ASKS UNDER THE CUT! If you sent me something about the fic last night it's probably down there!!

THE NEW CHAPTER WAS INSANEE ???? SCREAMING OH MY GOD ALASTOR STRAIGHT UP SHOT VALENTINO ??? (until he was nothing but mush 😨) speechless beyond words but it was SO good and cathartic omg i was literally on the edge of my seat in suspense 😭😭😭

Hahaha, thank you so much! Honestly absolutely lovely to hear—I think the general response to this chapter can be summarized as "oh my god" and this pleases me immensely. 💛

Angel Dust finally being able to cry when Husk backed away from him, ouch my heart 😭 Also Alastor not being able to use any of his usual radio demon powers but still managing to be the scariest person in the room. Very well written. I don't usually read stuff this dark but I'm really glad I decided to.

Huskerdust are my little gold vein of goodness threading through the horrible bedrock of the rest of this fic, haaa, and I really wanted that moment of catharsis for Angel himself... and YES!! Alastor was a scary motherfucker before he ever became the Radio Demon and I'm so glad that came through. Is he okay? No. But he's ready to make that everybody else's problem.

Thank you for taking a chance on this very murdered dove! I am genuinely very flattered to have the opportunity to make a dark fic a nonetheless good read for you!

An absolutely stellar chapter, as always! Your writing kills it every time and your descriptions are staggering in their detail! I adore how many emotions you made me go through during Alastor's entrance alone; from realizing that he escaped on his own, learning that his leg was injured in the process, to finding out that his mouth is bloodied. I crumpled on into myself. Agh! Of *course* he'd chew through it rather than just breaking/snapping it off. Truly a one of a kind man. So much showing without telling! It's all wonderful and your work is always such a delight to read. I'm not normally one who physically reacts to writing, but wow some of the scenes in this chapter had me flinching! This was most definitely a ramble that I could have simply commented under the chapter itself; all that to say that I am very excited for the next chapter and all of the aftermath to follow! 💫💫💫💫💫

P.S. Thank you for giving Alastor a gun. It is what he deserves. ❤️

Alastor DOES deserve a gun, ehehehe. Honestly so pleased that this has stood out to you as an example of showing without telling specifically because Angel Dust's extremely traumatized POV has been godly for opportunities to do that and it's been a very fun way to write. Gosh, this ask just means a lot to me in general, thank you SO much for your lovely words!

[the-six-that-thrive-if]

I was actually holding off on playing this until my exams were over but I lost myself to temptation and honestly this was just an amazing update. I would have probably hated myself for not reading this sooner if I have waited tbh😭

Initially, I was a bit confused bout who exactly moi MC should romance but I think Dante just single handedly cleared those doubts by a landslide and we haven't even fully met the other ROs yet🛐 I'm just in love with the way you portray him, like he actually feels alive and reading his parts are like breathing in fresh air, you know.

And I had to read that 'nudges MC's leg apart' part 60k times just for it to register in my head that I hadn't hallucinated that😭 and also was the actually the Warden outside MC's window?? If it is, I find it hilarious that this dude was just casually hanging outside smones window and being just shady af.

And honestly though, it should be a crime that Ro isn't actually an RO (...was that a twisted pun on your part btw?🥹)

I mean forget kissing MC's temple, stroking their spine but this man had me at stocking their fridge like hello? do u want to get married that badly?

Btw, it's implied a bunch of times in the demo, about how our dad clearly shows signs of genuine care towards the mc and blaming himself etc etc but the mc always has this 'he's disappointed in me' mentality. Is that actually a semi set feature of the mc coz it felt a bit contradictory to everything we've been getting about the dad in actuality. I mean I understand that we, the readers, maybe a bit omniscient in some things related to the plot, as in seeing things the MC can't see, but MC seems well aware of their situation it.

Either way, I think this was a great update mainly because it really balanced out the other chapter quite well, I think. It felt like the pace slowed down a bit and honestly that was a really great choice. Also, I did feel a lot of things were missing when i first read this if's demo but the additions in the previous chapters really bring together the entire demo as a whole. I think the only criticism I have is towards the amount of grammatical and vocabulary related mistakes, it did throw me off the plot in some areas but nevertheless it's pretty solid.

Also, have you already selected the beta testers btw?

(v sorry for this long ask, i think i rambled a bit too much😶)

The grammatical errors will forever be the bane of my existence and I will fix them. But everything else aside, I'm really glad and I adore long asks so don't worry.

But I'm really glad you enjoyed it, I had felt that the pacing was a bit off and there was just so many things I really really wanted to add, just wasn't equipped in doing so. Aswell as my financial situation is rocky and before I hadn't had access to a computer, which is the cause of my hella long hiatus. But I really really wanted to grow the world MC is in and make y'all familiar with it. So finally learning code and learning it well enough honestly helps me so much in accomplishing what I really want to accomplish.

With MC and their dad/ur dad it's sorta predetermined, but you'll get the chance to actually face you and your father's relationship before it's too late. I feel that where MC is, it's an honest bitterness. I mean comparing the rest of their family, Racheal, their mom, Charles, even Amelia show how much they love MC, but we'll definitely get more insight into why he acts the way he does and everything in the coming chapters!

And the Ro stroking your spine, yes he did that. I absolutely had to throw that in.

And Dante feeling alive, I really really try by just adding habits and things that extend outside of speech and just ugh, that is such a huge compliment!

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Okay, so I have a lot of things to say.

Aegon was a big star in this chapter. Him saying “let’s get married” to Stargirl was so like him. He was there for her through the entire chapter, helping her come up with excuses (even if the one about the rollercoaster didn’t make sense 😁). Also, when he said the baby was part of him family too was so sweet 🥰 I really thought he was going to die, my eyes got watery 😭 I hope our Starboy survives 🙏🏻

When Alicent and Helaena appeared I did a little dance 🤭 I loved how Helaena immediately went to Stargirl and said she was “the girl made of stars” Aemond talked about 💙

And Aemond… When he gave Stargirl the shark hammered plushie my heart melted 😍🦈 He finally stood up for our girl and send Shelby away, she deserved it 😠. That’s my man! 👏🏻 I’m glad he’s coming to terms with his feelings about Stargirl.

I am in love with Comet Donati, definitely one of the best I have ever read. It’s wonderful how you can make us feel a lot of things with the way you write. Your writing is beautiful, Maggie ❤️

Aegon was the big STAR, huh? 👀 I see what you did there 😏

Lovely Miss Julia!!! I am thrilled beyond words that you have enjoyed Comet Donati so much thus far. 🥰 Aemond and Stargirl are definitely getting closer and closer to being honest with each other...but will they ever get close enough?! We'll find out soon!

I can't believe there are only 2 chapters left???!?!? Like what????!?!?!?!!?!?! Not to scare y'all but Chapters 9 and 10 will be emotional for sure. The highest of highs...the lowest of lows...

I just realized that I've never written a HOTD fic where Aegon didn't end up being a lot of people's favorite character (no matter how flawed/pathetic he was). I wonder if that will ever change...

[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 75... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

[Breathes in............. 😤]

(This gif perfectly describes how I feel after reading this chapter... So let's talk about it...!)

The chapter begins with Anya, Becky, Bill, and Damian each getting a Stella Star (as they should...! 😤):

And at first, I was like: "Is Endo really just gonna skip the direct aftermath of the hijacking...?" 🤔 But then, a few pages later, we get exactly that!! 😄

One by one, everyone's parents came to pick them up (we even got a small glimpse at Ewen's mom and Emile's dad...! 😁) And then, it was just Damian and Anya...

Which honestly hurt my heart a little seeing Anya looking into the distance like that... 😢

Then, we get one of (in my opinion) the most sweetest / wholesome moments between Anya and Damian...!! 💗😊💗

DAMIAN EVEN CALLED ANYA HIS FRIEND...!!! 💗😆💗😆💗(Which he retracted soon after...!! 😁)

But then, Damian says this...:

💔MY FREAKING HEART...!!!💔

WHY DO YOU THIS TO HIM ENDO!!? 😫

(I swear...!! If the Forgers don't take Damian in, me and rest of the fandom will gladly adopt this boy...!!! 😤)

After that, Yor finally showed up to get Anya, which led to THIS:

💔MY BABY GIRL!!!💔

She really tried to play it off like she wasn't scared... 😢 Oh, Anya...! 💔😭💔

Then, we got the first big surprise of the chapter...:

TWILIGHT ACTUALLY SHOWED UP...!!! 😲 (And I'm happy about it!! 😊)

But that wasn't the only surprise...:

Melinda Desmond actually showed up!! 👀

And because of Anya, we finally got to see her inner thoughts...:

OH MY GOD!! 😱 WHAT AN ENDING...!!! AND WHAT IS HER DEAL?!!

And that was Mission 75, and it blew me out of the water...!!! 😵 I've said it a bunch before, and I'll say it again... Endo can always find a way to surprise me and keep me guessing...!! 😊 AND I LOVE THAT!!! 😁👍

As for where things will go from hear, I couldn't tell ya...! 😅 But what I do know is that Anya knows something's not right with Melinda now, and I wonder what she's gonna do with that information...? 🤔 Only time will tell...!! (Also, I wonder if Twilight was informed about the situation or if he heard about it a different way... 🤔)

Anyway, I had a great time with chapter, and I hope that y'all did too...!! 😊 So until next time, I see you all in the next Mission...!! Take care everyone...!! 👋😁

[allylikethecat]

On regards to tomorrows update I know I don't want The Birthday fic updated because that one is almost done as well, I need more time with it. I am between OAF and Ducklings cause both Fic!Mattys are going through it and were left BY GEORGE (I hurt) but I think I need to read how Ducklings!Matty is doing more than OAF'S. Hopefully SOMEONE will try to be nice to him like 😭😭 of course he would hide the pregnancy, fuck you? (Not you ally, love you). Anyway, have a good Monday 📚 read you tomorrow

Even though I am the worst and am just now responding to all of the asks y'all were kind enough to send me about which fic y'all wanted on Tuesday, I ended up going with On a Friday (it was the majority vote lol) BUT Ducklings is in the queue and I'm sure will be updated soon 😉 I am also very attached to the birthday fic and very torn between not wanting it to be over, also very excited about the final chapter. It's so SWEET and so SOFT and Fictional!Matty is actually HAPPY and he still has his cat Chaos because despite his concerns Fictional!George would never take her away from him. But yeah all my other Fictional!Matties are absoluely miserable right now with honorable mention to OaF Fictional!Matty and Ducklings Fictional!Matty. I hope you enjoyed the On a Friday update and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on it!!

Haha Ducklings Fictional!Matty did what he though was right... it turned out to not be right but he really did try and obviously everyones negative reactions are just making him think that wow he should have hidden it longer (even though no one is actually made he's pregnant, it's more so the keeping secrets / lying / shock that's causing the upset) ANYWAY thank you so much for being wonderful and for reading and for sending me this ask! I hope you continued to enjoy my fics and that you are having a wonderful Wednesday and the BEST rest of the week!

❤️Ally