#me forgetting the save button isn’t the post button | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

szkunas · 1 year ago

Text

KNOCK KNOCK, GUESS WHO! ౨ৎㅤsuguru geto.

synopsis / premise ♱ㅤwhen things in your life go well for a long time, there will undeniably be a problem knocking on your door. this time, the issue is your ex-boyfriend, wanted by the jujutsu society — who is very angry with you, even after he stole your money. || PART ONE (previous)

featuring ♱ㅤsuguru geto (jjk0 / 2017 version) x FEM reader.

warnings ♱ㅤ NSFW ♡︎ ㅤporn with very little plot ! toxic behavior ! suguru (GENOCIDAL man) ! unprotected sex (wrap it up) + unrealistic portraits of sex ! creampie ! reader and gojo are not in a relationship, but mutually interested in each other ! coercion / dub-con (both consent but just to be safe) ! genocide / death mentions (geto) ! stalking and breaking in ! bondage + choking ! spanking ! edging ! obsessed suguru agenda ! delusional suguru (you will see) ! seduction !

honorary mentions (inspirations, please read) ♱ㅤthis ask, by anon! all credits to them, i was not planning a part two, haha. whoever you are, i hope you enjoy it.

author’s note ♱ㅤso, today i was sitting down and thinking “im going to finish that yuta draft and probably start the sukuna draft for the event, since he’s winning the poll”. guess which of these two things I did? exactly. none. so, here is more suguru geto for you. i apologize in advance — i am not good at writing seduction. this is a bit rushed lol. repost because i can't see my post in tags

THERE IS NOTHING SCARIER than discovering that the person you love most is hiding a dark secret. it could be a lover, a second family, a dark past or a real, rotting present. that’s the feeling you get: everything is rotten. the walls around you and the space are shaped into a molten mist that rots as time passes, as you read the letter that someone slipped under your door.

the highly wanted criminal, suguru geto, was seen in your apartment two weeks ago, as shown in the photos below. we ask for your full and complete cooperation in the investigation, and soon some sorcerers will need to interrogate you. expect their visit at any time and answer the door when the time comes.ㅤ— the higher-ups from jujutsu society.

oh, hell. no. this cannot be happening.

as the procedure says, you burn the letter and get rid of the ashes.

although your situation is absolutely desperate, the secrecy of jujutsu comes before your disastrous love life. you turn to look for your cell phone, and the delay hurts your bones.

it seems like the object disappears when you need it most. when you find the damn phone, you don’t even hesitate. as you type the number that, at this point, your head knows by heart, your hands shake. this cannot be true. they are lying, they are trying to deceive me and defame suguru. but why? why would society need to do this?

of course, mentally, you suppress yourself. and a rational part of your brain — the part that isn’t driven by the love you feel for a man who’s been with you a long time — slowly realizes that this is the truth.

that’s why the disappearances in the middle of the night, the slight disregard for non-sorcerers touching you or him. the preference for privacy and not allowing you to post photos of the two of you together. he doesn’t have social media, he said. it feels very public. what a lie, he was actually a wanted criminal and cult leader.

no one answers the call, and you press the button once again. and again. and again. by the sixth time, you’re not sure if your hands are shaking with fear, disgust, or hate.

your money. your savings, built up after you left the witch life behind. a small guarantee of your future, a future you planned to have with suguru. a future stolen and lost, by the same man who once stole her heart. beautiful black hair and purple eyes really make a girl forget to pay attention to the red flags.

you leave voicemail after voicemail, until the box is full. then, messages. text after text while your fingertips digit furiously. it didn’t take long for you to realize that a response from him would be even worse, so your last messages were simple, direct. do not talk to me anymore. don’t ever appear in front of me again. and don’t you dare involve me in your affairs, you bastard.

pressing the send button through tears was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done in your life. and so, blocking the number seemed like the most sensible solution. it’s not like he would respond, even if you gave the number to the investigators — your exact intention.

so everything went as it should. 39 missed calls, 104 unanswered messages that changed her perspective of him forever, along with a letter that turned to ash, like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. your life took a new direction, an unpredictable metamorphosis that made you move to another address after the entire legal process on your part was concluded. you didn’t know, and you had no involvement, as hard as it was to believe. and then the sorcerers left you alone, and this was your second new start to normal life.

lonely and with a betrayed heart, in a new apartment far from your ex. unloading the last box does not bring the relief of releasing a chain, but the pain. the pain of losing something. as if the chain had tied itself to one of your ribs and ripped it away, taking a part of you.

but the tears dry. time passes. the pain diminishes, and the space that takes it in the heart is hatred. you become your priority again, and in time, you rise again only to fall again. one last effort, a call to a certain sorcerer you once knew, satoru gojo. this was his noah’s ark, his last hope before resorting to more desperate methods.

he answered. and since then, a lot has changed.

it’s been almost ten months since suguru stole your money and trampled on your love and dignity. almost ten months in which you had your heart broken, and you slowly put the pieces back together. now, your latest relationship — it’s not really a relationship.

six weeks ago, you and satoru had sex in your apartment for the first time. since then, he has been very helpful in all aspects of your life and visits you regularly. he takes you on dates and even carried you when his feet got sore from walking. it sounds crazy, feeling so comfortable with someone after just six weeks, but that’s what happens.

gojo is more than an arrogant boy who uses humor in every situation he sees, he has a heart, and a very generous one at that. despite his insistence, the credit card that was entrusted to you is rarely used (and you managed to convince him to change the password, too). his intention was to ask for help, not to become a parasite that will take as much from him as he can. not when he’s a much better person than you expected. a kind of clumsy white knight, in a cute and a bit of a loser way at the same time.

so, of course, the dates have become routine now. cinemas, walks in the park, roller skating, going for ice cream. these experiences stand out in your memories, as sweet as scenes from clichéd romance films. kisses in the rain, desperate hands pushing you into the apartment — maybe this time, you might be able to tease him a little, make him lose it and have you right there, in a dark corner? the idea is exciting, dangerous, and so stupid it makes your heart flutter.

he still owes you a new bed, though. you keep fucking on your couch because you two broke your single bed the last time you did it.

checking yourself in the mirror before a date is, naturally, what everyone does. the red dress that adorns her body is a little short, the kind of thing you see on a seductive movie character. but satoru asked for this tiny — as tiny as the dress, in his words — favor and promised anything you wanted later if you wore that and hung on his arm all night. even when he’s being a pervert, he’s just a guy who’s whipped for you.

the idea makes you take a step back. satoru can’t be in love with you. yeah, okay. he does cute things often. he takes you on dates almost every week. he’s always trying to make you laugh and has already learned most of your quirks, likes and dislikes. he remembers you throughout the day, at random intervals, and buys you things so casually that you had to beg him to stop and not max out his card bill — he just laughed and said it was all cheap anyway. heirs…

but he can’t be in love. it’s all new, recent. perfect, but maybe it’s just hidden by the love fog at the beginning of a relationship. it has already blinded you to bad signals once, and you internally wonder if you are using gojo.

of course, part of you has already thought about it. having sex with your ex’s best friend and solve your financial problems. two birds, one stone. but satoru is everything suguru is not — true. intense and real, without a mask of sweet truth that covered a rotten truth.

honestly, you don’t want to think about it too much right now. this is a conversation that should be between you and satoru, not between you and your intrusive, insecure thoughts. he deserves to know the truth and he deserves to know that you’re just as interested as he is — not on the money, but on him.

a text message makes you smile right after spraying a sweet perfume on your neck. the screen lights up with that contact that has now become your favorite.

toru <3; ㅤ already in the dress? photos or else ill die (seriously)

a small laugh escapes your throat, and you immediately prepare to take a photo. stepping back a little and posing in front of the mirror, you could swear you heard something near your apartment door while simultaneously hearing the soft click of your cell phone.

one pose to show the front, and one for the back, with a soft, evil smile. satoru isn’t your boyfriend, but with his attitude, he could very well be. he looks at you as if you were the only woman in the world, and as if he wanted you forever. it’s beautiful. it’s such a beautiful emotion to see in those blue eyes that you can’t wait for the next time you look.

after texting back, asking what time the movie starts, your eyebrows come together in a frown. omnisity takes over the environment quickly, and you swear your heart stops beating.

this energy— it cannot be.

“hi princess. missed me?”

the whisper in your ear is so sudden that you immediately turn your face to look. a hand grabs your chin and forces your head to turn back to the mirror, and you gasp, immediately struggling.

suguru geto, on the flesh, the greatest traitor to have walked the earth since judas. traitor to the jujutsu society, criminal and mass murderer, and of course — your ex-boyfriend. right behind you, and forcing you to stare at the mirror as his free hand snatches your phone away.

you hit him with your elbow, but he barely moves. humming, as if he is amused. as if you are some game. geto’s hips press forward against yours, and he efficiently traps you between the sink and him.

this cannot be happening.

what suguru doesn’t find amusing, though, is your text messages with satoru. long or short, little flirtations or obvious nudes, these messages are simply something that makes him turn his nose up in disgust. how dare him. how dare satoru take the one thing suguru truly loved that way?

“get off me.” you murmur, your eyes widening. like any sorcerer, you know the basics of defending yourself, but panic runs through your veins like poison. your muscles feel like solid stone, and you can’t stop your breath from hitching when his hand stops cupping your cheek to grab you by the throat.

he’s a criminal who definitely must have had his share of fights. you are a sorceress who has not been in the field for almost ten years. in a real fight? he could drown you in that sink and satoru would only find out hours later.

satoru. the thought makes you immediately ramble.

“don’t you dare lay a hand on me. satoru will—” he squeezes your neck softly, a silent message for you to keep your mouth shut. suguru sighs, annoyed he needs to explain it to you, word by word. he really, really likes you, but he’s not in the mood after all these games.

this small action — squeezing your neck gently — makes you remember old times. old times, not good days. because, although they were good, the memory was effectively corrupted when he left you, almost a year ago.

“satoru will not do a thing. he doesn’t know i’m here, and he won’t know.” a break. “yet.”

your eyebrows shoot up, before your face contorts into confusion. what does he mean, yet? if anyone knows he’s here, he will be executed. why would he risk it, just to see you? is he here to kill you?

the thought brings visible panics into your eyes — the wonderful, pretty eyes you have. the window to your soul. your soul and body, which suguru would like to possess again.

again, what a ridiculous term. he never stopped owning it, in the first place.

maybe if you buy time, satoru will come see what’s taking so long. he will help. you’ll be safe.

but the date is only thirty minutes, and for satoru to come in person, you would have to wait another forty. one hour and ten minutes with your genocidal ex-boyfriend. wow. this must be some kind of twisted lottery of fate, where winning makes you unlucky.

you force your voice to remain calm, composed. he does not deserve the satisfaction of your fear.

“why are you here?”

“oh, look at her.” he mocks, as if you’re not even just there, listening. “asking why i’m here as if she has no idea.”

“i don’t.” you grit your teeth. “this is why people ask, imbecile. they want answers— ugh.” he squeezes your neck again, making you grow quiet until he relaxes.

“darling.” suguru smiles softly, but some veins are popping up on his hand. he is absolutely pissed, using that sweet voice to smooth you. “you know why i’m here. don’t play dumb. you— let satoru touch you.”

his tone is still soft, affectionate as the boyfriend you once called yours. but beneath the sweetness, there is an anger, a possession. like an animal whose territory has been pierced.

“did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he leans in, his hot breath making shivers run down your spine violently. “you underestimate me, my love. i’m a bit offended. coming from you, i expected so much more.”

his hand snakes all over your body, and close as he is, you’re sure he can hear your erratic heartbeat. thump-thump. thump-thump. thump-thump.

like the engine of a machine, accelerated to its limits. if your organs are your gears, you believe you are malfunctioning right now. a poorly functioning machine due to information overload.

it’s a lot to handle. his hands are warm as they gently pull your dress up, groaning. “i barely had to move it away. what, you enjoy dressing like a slut for satoru?”

it seems like your voice only works normally, as it should, when you feel your panties being pulled down, gasping. “suguru, no! you can’t!”

“oh, i can’t? why? c’mon, darling, just the tip.” he throws your phone away — the sound the device makes when it breaks against the wall is blood-curdling. he wraps both his arms around your waist, pressing his hips to yours. “pretty please?”

you grit your teeth. why the hell is this attractive? perhaps it’s because you barely heard geto beg before. but, no. you can’t. satoru, your satoru, he’s waiting for you — instead, you have your freak ex humping slowly against you. no way, is he wearing buddhist attire? like a monk or something. but these thoughts don’t matter. his words take you out of your head.

“i saw everything that day, you know. and a little before, and after that. getting all cozy with satoru, because i’m not here? you offend me, sweetheart. i’m a bit hurt.”

“oh, i’m not hearing this.” you curl your hands into fists, slamming them on his arms. “not after you lied about who you are, stole my damn money, and left! fuck you, geto! fuck. you.”

he smirks against your ear, grabbing your wrists and pulling your arms behind your back. you groaned, and he quickly decided to hit two birds with one stone.

tugging at the clothing strip that holds his robes together, he rips it off and uses it to tie your hands together as you squirm. he gives it a little tug, confirming it’s not too tight, and throws his clothings to the other side of the room.

“i know i haven’t been here.” he pauses, and you can watch him through the mirror as he forces you a bit down. “and i’m sorry. i wanted to tell you, i did. but i couldn’t. i know what you would think, and— i couldn’t lose you.”

it’s like a sincere admission, but you’re not foolish enough to feel sorry. not for him, definitely. throwing salt at the wound is your strategy right now.

“you lost me anyway. y’know, satoru really has a way with backshots that—” your words are cut off by a gasp, when he rips your panties off you and holds you down by the back of your neck. your back does a pretty arch for him like that, but suguru is not nearly amused enough.

“don’t be a brat. i made mistakes, but you, too. whoring yourself for my best friend? are you kidding me, love?”

“i’m not your love, don’t call me that.” he grabs you by the hair, tugging your head back up to look at his eyes through his reflection.

a pause, and suguru decided against what he was going to originally say, softening his grip on you.

“i missed you. i did. can’t i show it to you? just a little, baby, please?” he presses his hips into yours a bit more gently, and you can feel it.

his rock-hard erection, rubbing softly against your warm pussy. it makes you shiver and hum against your will. a part of you misses it. nothing wrong with satoru — he’s a great learner for an inexperienced guy — but geto knows just how to blow your back and be soft at the same time. an art satoru hasn’t mastered yet.

the idea of doing this to that white haired man who is so good to you — it brings tears to your face. how dare you want to say yes? but also, how could you say no when suguru’s head is rubbing deliciously against your entrance?

you close your eyes in defeat, not able to look at yourself.

“be quick. and don’t ever ask me anything again. you get this— and you disappear from my sight. forever.”

a deal with the devil. sacrifice something and gain something. your body for peace.

he chuckles, throwing his head back with a smirk. “oh, you and i both know that’s not happening, sweetheart. i’ll be here, forever.” he slips his hands down your waist, grabbing it gently and pushing his cock in.

the feeling is— exquisite. geto could try all he wanted, search in all the world, but he never could find someone like you. your body is almost poisonous — intoxicating is the right word. he just bottomed out and he’s already mixing his thoughts. that’s the effect you have on him.

suguru’s hips start moving at a restless pace, not giving you time to breathe or a warning. he can’t waste time with words, not now. not after being pulled away from you, his beloved, for ten torturous months. just when he was planning to come back and convince you to join his cult — or just grab you and lock you up, whatever —, he found you riding his best friend. sinking down satoru’s cock and making him cream all inside you.

the idea makes him huff, thrusting harder.

and you, under him? with your wrists tied up? well, you’re a mess. you’ll have to try bondage with satoru later, it’ll surely make his cock explode. your eyes widen, and you babble something — what’s wrong with your head? why are you thinking about satoru, then, suguru, then satoru again?

oh, lord above, maybe both at the same time? it’s a fantasy that makes you blush more than what you’re doing right now.

suguru guides your head up again, holding your neck gently.

“what are you thinking about, love? you keep—” he grunts. “clenching down on me.”

“nothing,” you stammer out. okay, there is something seriously wrong with you for enjoying this so much. a moan escapes you before you can stop it. “nngh— satoru!”

his eyes widen at the same time as yours. if your hands weren’t tied up, you would have brought one up to your mouth. the squeezing on your neck is firm, enough to not cut air circulation, but present. surely. the whisper of your name echoes through the bathroom.

“what did you just say?”

he looms over you, blushed cheeks and vulnerable expressions changing all the time, staring at your dumb little face in the mirror. suguru has a soft frown on his face, his eyes wide in horror, and his lips are slightly parted. but there’s a dark shadow oozing off him, a rage that cannot be contained.

he’s hurt. he’s mad.

you try to justify it quickly, to do damage control. “suguru! i said— i said suguru!”

but it’s a little too late for that, and lies only make it worse. he pins you down harder, his hips moving back at a ruthless pace this time. harder, faster — no mercy or trace of the sweet man who used to make love with you as if you were made of glass.

now, he fucks you as if he hates you, he hates your guts.

your moans and whines are muffled by the obscene sounds escaping where your hips meet. plap plap plap, mixed with a softly, slightly wet whisper of some sort. suguru lets go of your waist and brings his hand up.

you gasp when it hits the back of your thigh in a loud smack!

he forces you to look up, breathless as he murmurs.

“start counting.” he groans, harshly. and he smacks you again, right on the ass. he’s hitting so hard that you believe his intention is leaving a red mark — a present for satoru to look at later. and you’re right. his friend knows no boundaries and keeps taking what is his. what choice does he has, unless to mark you up?

smack.

you shiver, trying to squirm away and kick before he pins you down again.

“behave, brat. now start counting.”

smack.

“one—” you moan when his heat hits your sweet spot, huffing. smack. “two.”

“good girl.” smack. smack. smack. “how many is that, princess, mm? ohh, that’s the good pussy i missed so much. so— tight.”

“ngh! three! four! f—five?”

“is that a question, or are you answering me, my love?”

he chuckles meanly, thrusting into you again. you both grunt — near the edge already.

“suguru.” you throw your head back, whimpering. “i’m— i’m gonna—”

“ohh, you’re going to cum? that fast, honey? satoru hasn’t been good enough to you, i see.” he thrusts harder, laughing meanly at the way your eyes widen and tear up. “aww, he can’t treat you like you want. he fucks you like a good girl, i bet. but you want to be fucked like a slut.”

he leans down, peppering your neck with kisses and hearing your deep breaths. “it’s okay. i’m close, too. you have this effect on me, my love.” he grunts again, grabbing your hips. “throw that ass back on me, baby, yeah? yeah, juuuust like that.”

he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up as he presses his lips to yours in a upside down kiss. it would be romantic if it weren’t so possessive, visceral, crude. carnal. desperate.

when your lips part, he grunts and sighs softly, while you’re moaning loudly. nearly at the same time, your orgasms hit you both with everything.

suguru’s thrusts become messy, sloppy, and his skin feels a bit sticky against yours as he fucks himself using your pussy, pushing in ropes of cum to paint your insides.

you let your head fall forward when it’s your turn, squirming and whimpering softly. his forehead would have hit the sink if he weren’t holding you up. some more seconds, to dry out both of your highs. slowly, gently, he pulls out of you, watching the fat drops oozing out of your used hole.

suguru smirks as he undoes your restraints, kissing the back of your neck tenderly and adjusting your dress.

“don’t forget who has you first, mkay? i left a little gift for you and satoru here.” he sighs, sounding a bit sad. “i’ll have to go again, i’m sorry. but i’ll be back soon. don’t miss me too much. just leave your window unlocked, and i’ll be here again.” he grabs your face to turn it again, brushing his lips against yours. “unlocking them is a chore.”

geto leans back, and you shiver, confused. the sound of clothes being adjusted and thrown back into a body makes you turn your head moments after you heard it, still a bit too slow.

and he is gone. as you fix yourself up on your feet, you shiver as the realization hits you hard as a stone. no, no. satoru. no.

you stumble to the corner of the bathroom, picking up your phone. the screen is broken, but a call icon appears. you accept immediately, nearly sobbing.

“hey, senpai,” the nickname is soft coming from his lips. a small joke, playing with an honorific that he does not use with figures he should use. “you’re— a bit late. did something came up, or?”

“satoru.” you sob, and even through the screen, you can feel him tense up. his voice becomes more serious.

“what happened? are you okay? where are you? i’m on my way.” the scraping of a chair can be heard in the background of the call.

“i’m— my apartment. i have something to tell you. we need to talk, seriously, we—”

you shiver, and for some reason, you can picture your ex perfectly — walking proudly, with his nose up, the wind making his black hair flow behind him and cruel, purple eyes accompanied by a soft smirk.

“i made a mistake.”

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, I APOLOGIZE FOR ANY MISTAKES.ㅤthank you for reading! <3

184 notes · View notes

missedmilemarkers · 7 months ago

Text

The Roar Heard ‘Round the Kitchen: Cats vs. Daylight Savings Time

George plotting breakfast.

Ahh Fall;

The time of cozy sweaters and an extra hour of sleep… unless you’re a pet owner. Cats or any animal with a strict feeding schedule don’t care about daylight savings time. They don’t understand it, they don’t respect it, and they’re downright furious about it.

When Time Means Nothing

It’s dark, quiet, and peaceful… until my cats decide it’s time to eat. Forget that the clock says 6:00 AM. To them, breakfast is 30 minutes overdue, and they’re not shy about letting me know. "FEED US, HUMAN!" echoes through the house, accompanied by dramatic meows and the occasional knocked-over lamp.

Pets Don’t “Fall Back”

Explaining daylight savings to pets is futile. Fall back? they scoff. Fall back where? Into starvation? Their tails flick in rage as they glare at me, demanding answers—and breakfast. Meanwhile, my cat stares out the window at a squirrel ( breakfast hopefully ), and likely plotting revenge on the sick human who made daylight savings time.

The Great Compromise

Eventually, I give in. As they devour their breakfast, peace returns. But I know better. This isn’t over. This will repeat in 11 hours because breakfast was late.

Show Everyone Your #HungryGeorge

Have pets that also don’t get daylight savings time? Reblog this post and attach a picture or video of your hilariously hangry pet with the hashtag #HungryGeorge. Please share your grumpy, hangry pets to show the world how they’re coping with the madness of daylight savings!

Got a hangry pet story? Drop a comment below, vote in the poll, and don’t forget to reblog with #HungryGeorge. Let’s see how your furry friends are dealing with daylight savings almost 1 month after the fact!

#cat #catblr #black cat #hangry #daylight savings #tumblr polls #HungryGeorge #original content #cats of tumblr #missedmilemarkers

38 notes · View notes

rainbow-rey · 11 months ago

Text

Willy's Special Rod

Willy x Reader - MDNI!!

Summary: Willy shows the farmer how he uses his rod.

Tags: reader-insert, pov first person, p in v, creamp/e, size k/nk

Posted on ao3 as a oneshot and part of a collection

I wake up and are instantly reminded of what I was doing last night, before I went to bed. I grab a coffee, sipping it slowly as I remember my intense orgasms, thanks to the help of my glass dildo. I feel my pussy getting wet from the memories. I clear my throat and leave the house, forcing myself to focus on the morning’s tasks. There’s a letter in the mailbox this morning, and it’s from Willy. I can feel my pussy clench, picturing his beard, his broad shoulders, his essence. What does he want? I want to open it, but instead I stick it in my pocket, saving it for after I collect today’s crops.

Once the animals are fed, pumpkins are harvested, and the fruit cave is checked, I can finally open Willy’s letter. I open it eagerly and read it aloud.

"Come to the beach at six… That’s it?" I cry, disappointed. Maybe I shouldn’t have expected much. Willy isn’t the poet type, and I feel silly for maybe wanting something more from him.

As I’m working, I can’t help but think about Willy. I’ve been having taboo thoughts about him ever since I met him last spring, so I was thrilled when he finally suggested an arrangement for us. I provide him with release whenever he wants, and he gives me bait and equipment.

Willy is undeniably hot. He has a strong, masculine air to him, one that you don’t find in guys my age. I’d been touching myself to him since the first day I met him. He gave me my fishing rod and showed me how to cast it, wrapping his arms around mine as he guided them and whispered instructions in my ear. The sight of him handling his rods, wrapping his thick fingers around the handles. I remember going home and finding my pussy wetter than I’d ever gotten before. I had no choice but to pound myself with my dildo, pretending it was Willy’s thick cock. My pussy is drenched at the memories, and I have to squeeze my thighs together. Willy makes me so aroused it hurts. I contemplate going inside and masturbating before I leave, but I check my watch and I only have an hour before I have to be at the beach. I run inside quickly to get dressed, forcing myself to ignore my overly inviting dildo. I unbutton the first two buttons of my shirt and fluff up my hair in the hallway mirror before heading back out. I set off for the beach.

I walk down the dock, approaching Willy. I tap his shoulder, admiring the way his arms fill out his shirt so nicely. I fight the choking-themed thoughts that come.

"Y/N, you’re here," Willy says. "I was worried you wouldn’t show."

"Of course I’m here," I smile. "I like this shirt on you, by the way."

"Thank you, Y/N." The way he says my name has my hole gushing. What is it with this man? "Come inside. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Slick oozes out of my cunt as I think about him and his veiny cock. It’s easily the biggest one I’ve seen before, and I can barely take all of him in my mouth at once. I only imagine how he would feel inside me; so far he’s only asked me to use my hands, mouth, and one time he wanted me to use my tits. I’ll never forget his groans whenever I licked his tip when it showed from between my boobs.

I follow Willy inside his shop. He pulls me behind the counter. I instinctively get on my knees in front of him and reach to undo his pants, but today he stops me.

“I have a different idea today, Y/N,” he says gently. God, he’s hot.

“What do you need today, Willy?” I ask him. It doesn’t take a genius to notice the way his cock twitches when I say his name.

“Well, I’ve been thinking recently…” He takes my chin with his fingers and tilts my face up to meet his. His hazel eyes are a piercing shade, tinted with lust.

“You’ve been… thinking? About what?” I won’t lie, I don’t really care about what he has to say. I just need to feel his cock somewhere and I’ll be happy. Right now, I don’t feel him anywhere, and I’m a little impatient.

Willy notices my impatience. “I won’t beat around the bush. I’ve been wondering what your pussy would feel like.”

I can’t control the blush that appears on my face, and I’m now feeling flustered. Finally! It’s taken far too long for him to ask. “Do you mean—“

“I want my cock in your cunt. Would you like that, Y/N?” His voice is raspy, laced with desire. I imagine that’s what he sees in my face, too, and there’s no other way my eager nod can be interpreted otherwise.

Willy reaches for my hands and pulls me up to sit on the counter. He trails his hand along my body, making me shiver. His fingers reach the buttons on my shirt.

“Can I undo these?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

I nod. I can feel his dick pressing against my center as he moves closer to me, rock-hard and straining against the fabric of his pants. All the heat in my body rushes down to my cunt as Willy groans in approval, noticing that I went braless today. His fingers graze my nipples and I moan. It’s been forever since I felt the touch of a man, and I’m so glad he’s the one with his hands on me. Willy is gentle yet deliberate with his actions, pinching my nipples and squeezing my tits. I whine when he pulls away from my chest, but it’s worth it when he starts to slide down my skirt.

“Hips up, baby,” he says, and I use his shoulders as leverage to let him pull the fabric off my ass. The underwear I’m wearing underneath is pretty normal, but I don’t have time to stress about them when he pulls them off too.

Willy gets one look at my pussy and groans. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re soaked for me. You’ve been wanting this?”

I nod, feeling my cheeks flush.

“Such a good girl,” he says under his breath, grinning. Willy starts removing his own clothes. “Can I see you touch yourself for me, baby?”

I oblige. I lick my fingers, sucking them like I suck his cock. My eyes don’t leave his. After I’ve properly lubed my fingers, I drag them down to my gushing, hot cunt. My middle and ring fingers dip just barely into my hole, and I can feel the sticky, wet fluids inside me. Willy looks more turned on than I’ve seen him before, so I take it as a good sign and start rubbing my clit. I moan softly, the feeling only amplified when I see Willy start to stroke his cock to the sight of me. I rub my clit faster, and my well-lubed fingers make any potential friction cease. The sounds of my fingers on my cunt turn me on, as well as Willy, whose hand is moving at a speed that would make me cum instantly if he was inside me. I don’t make any signs of stopping the pleasure on my clit, instead waiting for him to finally say the magic words.

“I’m about to come—“ he cries.

“Don’t do it yet,” I tell him, removing my hand from my pussy and watching him unwillingly move his hand too. He looks disappointed, but the look goes away when I tell him, “I want you in my cunt.”

The gleam in his eyes is unmistakable as he lines himself up with my entrance. Willy pushes his unbearably thick tip inside me before pulling out, making me whine. I’m not sad anymore, however, when he drags his now-lubricated tip on my clit in slow, carefree motions.

“Please…” I whine.

“Please what, baby?” Willy doesn’t stop the teasing motions on my clit.

“Fuck me, Willy. I need to feel your thick cock in my wet cunt,” I cry. I can’t help it anymore. I’m so close to finally getting what I’ve wanted for months.

And holy shit, when that wish is granted, it feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

Willy’s cock is big. I knew that, but I didn’t quite know just how big it really was. No dildo can ever satisfy me the way he can. The minute I feel him press into my hole, I know I’m in for the ride of my life.

His cock reaches every single part of my cunt. I feel full in a way nothing could have ever made me feel except for him. At first, he just slides in his cock, letting me adjust to his size. I can feel my pussy molding to his length as he pushes into me. When I think he’s done inserting himself, he manages to fit more in.

“Is it all in yet?” I ask, almost desperate.

“Almost, baby.”

Finally, I feel his balls hit my ass. Willy stays in this position for a bit, really making sure that my cunt won’t ever take dick that isn’t his without being disappointed.

Slowly, Willy starts to thrust. With each one, his fat dick hits every spot in me, making me scream as he rubs my g-spot over and over and over. I feel pleasure I didn’t know was possible. The amount of slick that has come out of my hole between arriving at the shop and now ensures that there’s no friction at all. I’ve never been as turned on as I am right now, tits bouncing as Willy pounds my pussy over his countertops. No amount of porn can capture how utterly amazing this sex is.

Willy puts his hands on my hips to steady me as he speeds up his thrusts. I cry out each time he bottoms out in me. The room echoes with sex sounds, between his balls slapping against my ass, our combined moans, and the obscene slick noises that come when his cock slides in and out of my soaked cunt.

I think this situation can’t get any better, but Willy decides to lean over me on the counter, making direct eye contact with me as he destroys my swollen pussy. I’m tempted to lean up slightly and bring my lips to his—but he does it first.

His lips against mine, his hands on my hips, his cock in my hole… It doesn’t get any better than this. His tongue slides between my lips and now we’re making out as he continues to pound his thick, long cock inside me. Every thrust makes me scream into his mouth, and he doesn’t let up. My back arches and my pussy clenches as I feel my body heat gathering near my cunt, amplifying the feeling of him penetrating me.

Soon, I can’t help it anymore, and I don’t think he can, either. When I pull away from our kiss and scream, “I’m coming!” he doesn’t stop his pace until I can feel my lower lips flutter around him. Only then does he slow down the speed of his thrusts, filling my insides with hot cum. Willy collapses on top of me, pulling me into a soft kiss.

“We should do this again soon,” he whispers in my ear.

Kudos and comments are appreciated <3

Reblogs > likes

40 notes · View notes

howlsofbloodhounds · 10 months ago

Note

me and my butter fingers, did i forget to turn on anon again??? (T_T)

talking about frisk/chara/the player in the context of stories and aus is really fun! i saw a really funny art post on twitter (i don't remember the link...) that depicts the player in three aus where the murder time trio comes from and they're friends. something new!player is a dedicated hacker, dusttale!player is a 100% achievements player, and horrortale!player is a loser/quitter. it's quite fun to see them interact with each other in "real life" not knowing that the games they play are actual universes/worlds out there, but then considering what the aus become... this kind of tone dissonance between the "real life world" and the aus is quite interesting. i don't see many people actually depict stories with the player as a core character/force/mechanism. i think a story from the player's (or multiple players') point-of-view would be very funny, in a dark humour kind of way.

~ crowshipping anon, on brainstorming mood

Yeah you did 👍. Im glad I caught it in time, I almost didn’t 😭.

The only fanfic I can think of involving a player was a Deltarune fanfic from Noelle’s POV. I don’t remember everything about it, but I do remember that Noelle realizes that Kris isn’t Kris, somehow gains the ability to Reset (I forget how), and had to face off against the player and save Kris without letting the player know. Something along those lines.

But honestly picturing Horrortale, Dustale, and Something New Player being friends is honestly amazing to me.

Like, Dustale is screaming and seething when Sans kills them, hooting and hollering whenever they manage to kill sans and earn more achievements.

Something New Player’s over here cooking up new ways to make the game more interesting, and I can imagine just how fascinated they were with Killer. Imagine all the potential prompts that could exist to interact with Killer? There definitely had to have been moments where they just kept clicking that “poke” and “examine” or “touch” button. Telling him to do the most strange things or depraved things, having him stand somewhere in stress positions for hours.

I like to imagine the Something New Player has a very perverted fondness towards killer, he’s their greatest creation, and they love talking about him to their friends at every chance. but maybe they always dog on smthn new player cuz of their edgy hacked oc.

And meanwhile horrortale player, the quitter they are, is probably only interested in undertale still because their friends keep yapping about these creepypasta-esque versions of the game lmao.

29 notes · View notes

carrots-bear · 6 months ago

Text

Fire and Rain, by Bear

Donnie has walked through his brother's time-gateway. Now, he is exactly twenty-two years before when he just came from. The only difference is, this place is safer than it was, or would have been. Hamato Donatello shall seek his long late family, and it will be nothing what you'll expect. (Or maybe it will be exactly what you expect, I'm not exactly psychic!)

Chapter 1

2022 — Three weeks post-invasion|

Donatello walked through the portal, weary from what had just happened, his brother’s— erm— his katanas in hand as he shielded his face from the sudden brightness. He took a deep breath of fresh air that he forgot he was missing out on; he opened his eyes slowly, blinking as his eye adjusted to the sun— which he forgot the Earth had. He was on a roof-top, a familiar one, though he couldn’t quite place which one it was. After his eye fully adjusted, the purple-masked turtle saw that there were still Kraang parts scattered around the city that he had once been able to protect. What? What’s going on? I would have expected Casey Junior to succeed on his mission…

As Donnie looked closer with his mono-ggle, he realized that most of the Kraang matter had been deactivated, terminated, or contained at this point. “So,” Donnie said to himself, “while New York isn’t in its best state— haha, state; ‘Nardo would be proud of me for that one. Anyways, while NYC isn’t exactly looking its beeeessst… it’s still standing, and looking better than the one I came from.” He looked around gladly, and—“Oh, not again.” Donnie put the katanas back in their sheath so that he could untie his mask and wipe his eyes. “Dum-dum universe decide that the dum-dum explosion would only mess up my eyesight. Tch,” he said bitterly as he rung out his mask. He held his left wrist up to his mouth after he had re-tied the mask and ordered, “D-Tech, reset clock to the correct year, month, day, hour, minute, and second.”

There was a robotic ding and Donatello’s own pre-recorded voice responding,

“Reset time to: Year - 2022 | Month - May | Day - 10th | Hour - 16:39:25 seconds and counting |”

“Confirm change.” Another robotic ding confirming that the time had been saved. Donatello pressed a button to close the screen before looking out at the world around him; everything he had hoped for, dreamed for! but nothing he expected. “Honey-nut oatmeal and raisins, twenty-twenty-two……Shell, I’m old.” He looked back to the roof-top he had happened upon and wondered why it felt so familiar. “Well, I’m sure I’ll figure it out sooner or later,” Donnie said as he jumped down.

He looked around a bit more and then asked himself, what he thought was a very important question. “Soooooo, where to now? I’m here, I’m alive, and there’s no Kraang butt to kick. I have no brothers, sisters, sister-in-laws, nieces, ne…phews.” He thought for a second then, remembering how this world hadn’t met it’s end— at least, not yet— the same way as Donatello’s own world. “Hmmmm, I wonder…” He moved a bit more into the shadows of the ally-way he was in, remembering how much humans hated things they didn’t understand in this day and age.

He lifted his gauntlet up to where he could easily view it and type on it. The soft-shell pulled up his tracking file to see what he could see. “Well I’ll be a Kraang’s uncle. He’s actually here! Yes! Genius Built™️ tech never fails.” Right on the map, in the location of Donatello’s old home, before the Kraang attacked, was a blinking maroon dot shaped as Casey Junior’s face. “How did he find the old Lair!?” Donnie exclaimed to himself.

“Hmmm… It’s twenty-twenty-two, and-- what am I saying? Casey’s a smart kid, courtesy of me, of course. Also courtesy of me, he has Genius Built™️ technology, complete with a digital map, tracker, navigator, and other AI features. Not to mention anything else he might have taken here with him to survive and aid him that I am unaware of or forgetting. Nevertheless, that does not explain how he found the Lair…” He tapped his chin and thought as he looked at the map and the blinking dot-face. Then it struck him, and it was so obvious it was painful, in light of recent events. ‘Nardo drew the Key on the back of an old picture of us and gave it to him. Still, if I weren’t such a literal person, I’d say that kid’s a genius. Then he focused the map in on his own purple point, and entered Casey’s location into the GPS. “Now, where’s a manhole cover…”

“If you walk farther down the ally you should see one, but I don’t know why you would wanna go down there unless you’re used to it. Or unless you like that kind of stuff, for some reason.”

The lone turtle froze. He recognized that voice, but it had been so long since he had heard it, he almost couldn’t, almost wouldn’t believe it.

“Ummm, I’d not think you’d be that scared of me;” the disembodied voice replied, seeming to take his stiffness incorrectly, ”I’m just a girl coming back to her momma for dinner and you’re… bigger than I am. Man, how tall is that? Seven feet?”

Yup! He definitely knew this girl, and he didn’t know how he was going to respond. While he was trying to swallow the tears that were definitely yet to come, (who he assumed was) April started putting the pieces together. “Hold on, I recognize that coat…It’s my lucky jacket! They only sold them for a limited amount of time, in a few specific sizes, and only one style and design and color. Not in…whatever size you’re wearing, and the length that it’s in. Hey, that only has stitches where mine does. But I’m wearing mine, so you couldn’t have stolen it from me….Is that a purple mask…?”, she asked as Donatello straightened up to his full height and tried to compose himself.

“Yes, it is,” he said in a choked, weary voice. He turned around, only to find what he expected. As if he wasn’t having trouble keeping it together already, the time space continuum decided to throw this at him. He teared up at the sight of April, though she was younger and less scathed than Donnie remembered. Still, it was her. The tears were now flowing like a healthy stream as the two looked at each other. Now that was just perfect, wasn’t it?

“Don…nie?”, she asked as she looked him up and down again.

"Yes,” he answered, looking away from her now.

April advanced towards him, examining him more closely. “Well, if you’re telling the truth, you’re definitely not my Donnie. You’re going to ask how I know that, so it’s because Raphael currently will not let him get out of bed except to use the restroom. As in, Raph basically lets Donnie leave the med-bay for as long as a worm surfaces on dry day, and then only so much more than that. Dee hates it, even though he knows Raph is just a tad bit worried and restless.”

“RAPH’S ALIVE!?!?!?!?”, Donatello exclaimed, his breaths coming short and quick. Don’t hyperventilate don’t hyperventilate don’t hyperventilate DON’T HYPERVENTILATE— He looked back down towards April and searched her face for some sort of joke. Actually, now that he thought about it, was this— April standing in front of him, and ranting to him about this timeline’s version of himself’s safety, a joke? Was it a dream?

“Yes, thank goodness,” she sighed with relief.

“You…are alive? You’re real, and this isn’t the universe tricking me into a dream?” He spoke as he stooped down so that they were at eye-level.

April looked at him, concerned, knowing immediately that this was her best friend, her brother, even if he did hail from somewhere else. “Yes, I’m here. I’m alive and well, and there’s no more danger— wait, let me rephrase that. There’s no more danger than anyone wants. You can relax.” She put her hand on his shoulder, what April usually did to say without words, ‘Tell me what I can do for you.’ Donatello yanked her into an almost crushing hug¹, and hid his face in her shoulder. “Oh!”, she exclaimed, a bit shocked by his sudden movement, but she hugged back, just like he remembered she used to. She rubbed his shoulder comfortingly and said, “I just got back from the Lair to have dinner with my mom at home. She’s been taking care of injured humans and yokai alike these past few days. She’s also met my brothers and Splints now. Would you like to stay here for a bit, or continue on to— wherever you’re going?”

“Thank you for the offer; I would love to stay,” Donnie said, breaking away from the hug. His watery eyes looked at April’s face. She smiled reassuringly at him, and he couldn’t hold back a small sad, happy laugh. “I can’t believe it! You’re actually here!”, Donnie said disbelievingly.

“Come on,” she said grabbing his hand and tugging on it.

“You can’t drag me like before, remember?”, Donnie stated amusedly.

“Just get up so I don’t have to wait for dinner any longer, m’kay? I’m starving!” She walked up a few steps and opened the door. “Moooooooom, I’m here! And I have a surprise guest!”

“A surprise guest, hm? Well, how much does this ‘surprise guest’ eat?”, Carol O’ Neil asked, as Donatello followed April into the house, having to duck because of his height. “There’s only so much edible food that survived the invasion, and we’re nearly out.” He looked at the doctor, a spoon in the right-hand and the other on her hip, no different than what Donatello remembered as well.

“I’ll eat only as much as I’m allowed to,” he responded, smiling a bit timidly at this not so new face.

Dr. O’ Neil looked him up and down with a doubtful eye. “April, I will never understand how you befriend these strange people on the streets and in suspicious ally-ways, but you go to school and you’re the most socially awkward young lady in all of New York!”

Donnie outright laughed at this. He had forgotten about that! Still, somehow, at the same time he always sort of remembered. “Oh! That’s hilarious! I had almost forgotten about that,” he said once he recovered. “I am terribly sorry for the improper introduction. I am Donatello from a separate bifurcated time branch. I already know who you are, though. In any case, do you have a preference as to what I call you?”, he asked, extending his hand and smiling all the while.

“You can call me whatever you’d like, hon,” she responded accepting his hand. Her grip never changed, Donnie thought fondly. ”April, could you set the table? I’m going to finish up dinner,” Carol ordered requested as she walked back towards the stove and oven. “So how long will you be staying here?”, she asked as she stirred the soup.

“Probably just for dinner. I’m trying to find my nephew, and I’d like to find him soon,” the purple-masked turtle responded.

“Your nephew, mm? Now why would he be in this time branch? Unless you know for sure that he is?”, Dr. O’ Neil wondered.

“Hm, I suppose I’ll have to explain everything, won’t I? Well, have either of you met Casey Junior?”, he inquired.

“Yes,” the two women responded, the younger curious in tone.

“He’s my nephew.”

“WHAT!?!?!?!?!?”, April exclaimed. “How is a human boy your nephew?”

“Have you ever heard of adoption?”, Donnie asked sarcastically.

“A— bu— wha… Who’s the father then?”

“Leo,” Donatello answered, no doubt crossing his mind, much less wandering into his voice.

“But he calls Leo ‘Sensei’!!!!!”, April protested, confusion of the utmost written all over her face.

“Well, there weren’t any papers to sign in the apocalypse, now were there?”

“What would that have to do with calling him ‘Dad’ or ‘Father’ or whatever anyways?”

“They weren’t ready yet. Plus, Casey Junior wouldn’t call Leo ‘Dad’ or anything like that unless his sister said she viewed Leo as anything more than a Master, a leader, a President-of-the-Apocalypse if you will.”

“…Casey didn’t say he had a sister.”

“Hm, that’s strange, the two were nearly inseparable. Fun fact: not only were they siblings, they were twins. Yes, twins; scientifically even! That’s something I wish I could say if, I’m being completely honest.”

April just stood there, processing every single bit of information before Dr. O’ Neil walked over and spooned dinner into the respective dishes. “Well, that’s a lot to process, i’n’ it?”

“Yep,” April said, going over to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. “Oh, maybe it’s a bit different from when you come from, uhm, other Dee, but no weapons at the table here,” the young woman said as she dried her hands off.

“Oh, of course,” Donnie said, quickly taking off the coat he was wearing, removing the nunchucks from his belt, the bō and swords’ sheaths from his back, and the quote-on-quote “sheath” for April’s base-ball bat— the April from his home time-branch. The O’ Neils watched him, surprised by the amount of weapons— and scars— on him. “Should I remove my prosthetic as well? I don’t want to go through the hassle of disabling it’s more harmful mods, and it automatically turns off when it’s not hooked up,” he pondered.

“No— no, it’s fine dear. How ‘bout you wash your hands now and then come sit down for some nice, tortilla² soup,” Carol said.

“Tortilla soup!? Oh, it has been a while since I’ve had anything that will actual sustain myself, much less something that good!” Donnie said as he walked over to the kitchen sink.

“Really? What did ya’ll eat in the apocalypse? Besides rats, CJ already told us about that,” April shuddered.

“Well, there were bugs, but not a whole bunch of people were desperate enough for that. After the world had run out of what had already been stored up is when we started eating rats, mice, rabbits, possums, or any other animal that was not claimed by the Kraang or as a pet that we could find. No, we did not eat Lieutenant Mayhem or or any sort of cat or dog. We weren’t complete savages,” Donatello explained.

“‘Lieutenant Mayhem’? That was a joke, right? No offense, Mayhem,” April said looking at a corner where the fluffy little dog-cat-thing sat curled up. He squeaked, showing that he had taken offense.

“No, it was not a joke. If you are sentient enough to give, take, and follow orders, as well as the physical capabilities to do so, you are given an official position.

“And something else that isn’t a joke, is how SPECTACULAR this soup is! Though, something lighter would have been better after not eating much these past few weeks, you won’t find me complaining about actual food!”

“A few weeks?”, Dr. O’ Neil asked, concerned.

“I thought that your brothers and I would have drilled it into your head that you need to eat three meals a day by now!” April glared at him and stirred her soup.

“Heh, like I had many other options. Leo and I were hiding from the Kraang for as long as we could, anywhere we could, for the weeks following Casey’s departure,” Donnie provided, lifting another spoonful to his mouth.

“Ah. I don’t know what to expect at this point,” April commented after pausing.

“If you’ve been through all that, you must be hurt one way or another. Let me patch you up after dinner, alright dear?”, Carol suggested after taking a few more bites.

“Sounds great. Thanks, Dr. O’ Neil,” Donnie smiled gratefully at her.

“Anytime, Don.”

A few more minutes of silence went by, the time in which Donatello absolutely inhaled his dinner (not literally folks, dw). “So, remind me what your into these days. It’s been about, pffffffff, twenty-two years since I was sixteen— and fifteen years since I’ve seen you,” Donnie prompted as he stretched in his chair, muttering the last part to himself so that the O’ Neil’s couldn’t hear him. He was happy to see April again and wouldn’t waste a minute of it.

“I’m majoring in journalism at my college; planning on bein’ a news journalist for Channel 6, if I can get the job. They're looking to get a section in the paper approved for them, and then they'll start hiring people in a couple of months.”

“Oh, I’m positive you will get the job. You were always good at getting messages across at debriefs and for mission logs. Our data collection missions were always successful in the early days as well,” Donatello reminisced.

“What’s the early days for you?”, Carol asked, question in her gaze.

“Anytime in my life before my mid-twenties or my thirties; I haven’t decided yet,” Donnie answered, fidgeting with the red cloth on his arm.

“What changed? I remember you and Mom telling me the age of twenty was the human body’s prime? I don’t know how much it technically counts for mutant turtles yet, but eh, it’s enough I’m sure,” April asked.

Donnie looked down at his right lower arm. The colors of blue, red, orange, and black were wrapped around it. Basically and ironically, Donnie was wearing his heart as his sleeve. (It is ironic, due to my general personality and character not following the metaphorical phrase ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve’.) He then moved to fidget with the black choker on his wrist between the orange and blue cloth. “You see these scars?”, he asked, gesturing to his whole right half of his body.

“Yeah?”, April responded, curious.

“They are from an explosion that made me blind in my right eye, deaf in my right ear, and gave me twisted scars on my lower leg because Kraang gunk splatted on my exposed flesh, and it had already begun to spread by the time I got back to the base with— Cassandra and April,” he concluded the sentence reluctantly.

“What does this have to do with the ‘early days’?”, April inquired, beginning to feel impatient with this Don-pelgänger³, who was trying to slowly explain the situation instead of just saying it bluntly. He had definitely changed.

“Well, the early days were before I got this scar. I was about twenty-three, April and I were on one of our intel collection missions again, and Cassandra had been assigned to join us because she was getting restless, and Casey Jr. and his sister were young; we didn’t want them to become orphaned again. I still had my ninpo then, just so you know. We were doing alright, until Kraang somehow detected our presence. A Kraang android came out and I fired at it, successfully, mind you, except that the Kraang appeared to know we were coming. They sent out an android that basically had what could be simply described as a land mine inside of it; mix that with the missiles I had just fired at it— well… things didn’t turn out that well. I had my battle shell on, but the explosion still reached past it. And Cassandra and April…” Donnie trailed off, he couldn’t finish the sentence, or he would become an absolute mess, since anytime truly he relived that memory— well, he never wants to relive that memory. But when he does, he always collapses into a shaking heap.

“Twenty-three? My little brother could have— has lost me, at the age of twenty-three!?!?!?”, April demanded, furious and fuming.

“Yes,” Donnie said, his voice audibly meeker than it had been before.

“And Cassandra!?”

“Indeed. It was not how any of us imagined she’d die,” Donnie smirked at his comment, despite the topic.

“Yeah, I bet. How did Future-Boy react to this? I’ve gathered that Casey’s his mom from what CJ has said, what you said, and the first and last names,” April queried.

“Ah, yes. How old was he then? Two or three I think. Yeah, you were also a mother-figure to him, so that didn’t exactly help…”, he mentioned hesitantly. “Oh, poor thing,” Dr. O’ Neil sadly murmured. “Yeah. This is not a me only thing when I say: that never should have been the life those kids led,” Donnie agreed, face solemn while putting his hands up by his head as if a gun were— bad analogy, you get the point. By now, the O’ Neils have finished their dinner; everyone has cleared their spots and the patient has been doing what he did best: explaining.

“Alright now, Don. How ‘bout we go to the couch and get ya all fixed up? April, get the first aid kit and my work bag,” instructed O’ Neil Senior. The two walked over to the couch as April rushed to grab what she had been ordered (after saluting of course). “Now, can you tell me if anything hurts anywhere at all?”, asked the seasoned doctor.

“Well, I have a few bruises and cuts that may or may not become infected, but nothing serious or unusual, I believe. I might have dislocated my humerus from my shoulder at some point?” Donatello responded, bending down to unlatch his prosthetic and check the damage. “Eugh, I’m going to have to tighten a few screws; nothing major, that’s good. Maybe a bit of oil to loosen up the joints, I’ve got that resource now. Oh, I’m going to abuse my accessibility to resources, and will have no regrets, what-so-ever,” Donnie said, his face betraying all of the gremlin inside of him.

“Wow! That’s a wicked cool prosthetic! You make it?”, April asked as she approached with the medical cases.

“Who else? Raphael? Leonardo? Of course I made it,” Donatello responded, holding it up in case she wanted to look at it closer. She reached for it once she had set the bags down, eyes glittering, but Donnie stopped her before she made contact with it. “I’ll warn you, it’s quite a bit heavy if you are the size that you are, and/or not used to the weight of it.”

“Oh, okay, thanks,” April said eagerly, hurriedly, while reaching for the metal contraption, as if Donnie would change his mind at any second and yank it back. Scoff, he thought. As if I could be that careless. “Wow! This is so cool! Mind if I take a few pics to send to Dee?”, she asked, already getting her phone out to take pictures. “Um, my Dee, I mean.”

“But, of course. Not that he’ll be needing it, seeing as he may be able to tear it apart and put it back together— under my supervision, obviously,” Donnie answered, lifting his left pant leg so that the doctor could treat his wounds.

He bit his tongue as she cleaned and disinfected them with some water, hydrogen peroxide, and a cloth. It was really the cloth that did it for him, seeing as water and hydrogen peroxide had never bothered him in the past.

“Sweet!”, April said, obviously hyped at this whole situation. Donnie heard the classic sound of a smart phone taking pictures while he watched Carol examine his injuries a bit closer; putting her glasses on so that she would actually be able to see clearly. “You’re lucky it’s not as bad as the stain on your pant told me it was,” she commented while she grabbed bandages. “You’ve got some gashes, nothing I can’t handle. Anywhere else, dear?” She put some more disinfectant on cotton-like pad, this time, and put the pad on the gashes, what she would then wrap the bandages around.

“As I said before, I believe I dislocated my right shoulder during a fight within the past few weeks. I believe I managed to pop it back in, but better safe than sorry. It’s still a bit sore,” he added, rolling said shoulder to test it out against his better judgment. Carol tsked and got to work on examining it once she was done with his leg.

“Mind if I send these pics to Don…uuhhhhh, other Don?”, April asked, flipping through the pictures of the senior turtle’s prosthetic.

“Very well, only if you wish for an excruciating amount of questions that he will have for you, of which I will make sure you don’t answer. Not to mention the countless questions he desires desperately for how it works, which I will also make sure he does not receive unless I abide. I will only answer if he asks me in person, and only if I so desire,” Donatello said, leaning back with an especially bored expression on his face, finger-tips touching so that he made a very loose triangle. “So, yes, you may. But only if you are willing to take a great risk at your sanity, and your brother’s.”

April stared at the old soldier dumb-founded-ly. “So…yes? But at my own expense?”

“Precisely,” the soft-shell replied.

“Geez! You could have just said that! I guess some things never change…” April commented, scratching her head.

“Indeed.”

“Alright,” Carol began. “You were right, Donnie. You dislocated your shoulder, buuut you didn’t pop it back in, so we’ll do that now, okay hon?” Dr. O’ Neil started putting her tools down.

“Oh? Well alright then. Just give me a count down,” Donnie said, re-situating himself so that the doctor could easily proceed with relocating his shoulder.

“Okay,” she said, grabbing his upper-arm and around his collar. “You ready?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright. Three,” she counted, “two, one…” Donnie felt pain and pressure in his arm and through-out his shoulder area. He winced and sharply inhaled through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.

He had been through much worse procedures than this without pain meds, or being put under, so ideally this should be nothing— and it wasn’t for the most part. Donnie— along with most of the adults in, at least, the Liberty Resistance— had built up a strong immunity to pain, so he didn’t feel it as much as an ordinary person would have. I also have been living off of strong pain meds though, so that may also be it. That doesn't mean he didn't feel it, though.

“Man! I don't think I saw you even flinch! Did you even flinch? No, you didn't even do that!”, April observed, obviously impressed.

Even though Donatello was much older than her, he couldn’t help but feel his chest swell with pride at her tone. His brain argued that it was silly. This was a young, inexperienced, just-into-college girl, and even if Donnie had somehow figured out how to reverse age, and turned his own April into someone of this same age, it would still be different than this. Still, given the information that Michael gave him, it made complete sense that he felt this way.

Back to reality— a reality, at least, his shoulder was sore. “Yeah, that’s what happens when you build up a decent immunity to pain. Still hurts though,” Donnie added ,trying to be modest for once in his life. He was barley managing to half-lie through his teeth, and was immensely grateful that April didn't notice it-- or bother to ask.

“You should take that arm easy for a few days, at least, before you do anythin’ exciting, alright dear?”, Carol ordered prescribed, examining Donnie’s shoulder a bit more before moving on.

“I suppose I can do that. Sigh,” sighed Donnie reluctantly, knowing that if his family were here then there would be no questions. They weren’t and somehow that made Donnie want to listen to their hypothetical opinions more. Ugh. How could I become such a sentimental fool!

April interrupted his thoughts again, making another exclamation. “What? Donnie’s agreeing to rest, and not have someone FORCE HIM TO!?!?!?”

“Indeed, dear April,” Donnie said, closing one eye and putting a hand on top of his ear to muffle the sound more than his mono-ggle already did. “In my time, in the twenty-two years of the apocalypse, my family, and some close friends in the resistance— all the same— insisted that I rest whenever I had serious injuries. I eventually learned that arguing was just wasting time that they and I had to loose, so why do it?”, he explained simply.

“So that’s all it takes to get Donnie to rest, huh? Lots of pestering and saying that time’s being wasted?”, April wondered. “Well, I’m going to abuse this information on my Donnie at least,” she said in a chipper voice.

“I believe tha— ouch! What was that?”, Donatello asked, surprised.

“Oh, just tweesin’ out some small shards of metal in your leg. Don’t worry they’re not rusty, but did you have tetanus vaccines in your time? Or at all? Better to be safe than sorry,” Carol responded, showing him a small piece of metal the size of a finger-nail clipping covered in blood.

“Yeesh. Yes, and yes, but not within the past fifteen years at least,” Donnie answered as he examined the shard. “Never fear! I always keep A.T.A.S. on me since both Leo and I have metal prosthetics, and we could accidentally cut someone at any point. Cough— Casey Junior— cough,” he explained, fake coughing, though at the same time you could distinctly hear the words “cough”.

“Ummmmmmm,” April raised a finger.

“Hither, hand me mine coat. It should be in there…” Donnie said, snatching the piece of cloth from April’s hands as she held it out.

“Okay, one: didn’t anyone from the future tell you that you sound weird when you talk like that? I know that we’ve told our Don, but I don’t know if that’s the same, too,” April shot at him.

“Oh, yes. Countless times, before and after the Kraang invaded. Two?” Donnie noticed that April flinched when he said the name. “Don’t say their name?” April nodded. “Understood. I shall try. Anyways, two?” Donnie didn’t want to bother getting anymore information until he had met all of his timeline’s counterparts.

“Two, what in the world is A.T.A.S.? Why not atlas? It sounds better than atas,” April criticized.

“Ah. Well, it is for the reason of A.T.A.S. being an acronym for my Artificial Tetanus Antibiotic Spray,” Donnie explained, pulling out the spray can and demonstrating to each word as he said it before he shook the can and tossed it to Dr. O’ Neil. “Don’t worry, you, Leon, and a number of other scientists and medical professionals approved of the formula and successful tests I provided”, he reassured as she read the drug facts on the back. “Nothing exciting happened the times that we’ve used it, so either A: no one has been infected with the bacteria, or B: my formula is extremely effective.”

“Well, it seems alright. ‘Just enough to cover the wound in a silvery sheen’ is what it says? So, lightly”, Carol checked.

“Correct,” Donnie nodded. Dr. O’ Neil popped off the can’s lid and sprayed it on the cut. Then she wrapped it.

“Alright, I think that’s it,” the doctor said, looking over her handiwork, double checking the turtle for anything she might have missed.

“How ‘bout your shell, Dee? Is that alright?”, April tested.

“No harm in checking, I suppose,” Donnie agreed, his tone reluctant. “Though, I haven’t taken it off in weeks, and nothing’s happened, so I would prefer to wait until I go to sleep— or at least sit down for a longer rest.”

“Wai- wai- wai- wai- wait. You, Donatello Hamato, are not being forced to rest, pushed to rest, nor asked to rest, but just— you’re just…volunteering?????” April looked like she had been lied to beyond belief.

Donnie just chuckled to himself and clicked his leg back on; he had already put on his coat once Carol had said she was definitely finished with him. “Some things never change, April, but some things do,” he said, catching her off-guard again when he threw “wise-old-man-advice” at her. She stared, shocked yet again by how much her best friend, her brother, had changed over the time and events that she had never experienced.

“Also, I’m pretty sure you’ve been shocked by me accepting help the whole evening, Apes.” Donnie stood and stretched. “Thank you for your hospitality, my friends,” he said, “but I really should find my nephew and see how he’s been holding up.” Donnie reached for his additional weapons, and grabbed the A.T.A.S. can with one of his robotic arms and stowed it in his coat as he did so. “I didn’t get how he’s been faring, by the way. How is he doing? I’m more worried about how he’ll adjust to us as teenagers more than anything. The kid is adaptable and can absolutely hold his own.” A tone of concern, and then fondness and pride, had worked their way into Donnie’s voice; he was the only one who didn’t notice.

“Oh, yeah, he’s definitely still adjusting. It has just been a little less than a month since we met him after all. And don’t worry. Out of all of us, he was probably injured least. Well, he was at least no less injured than I was, and he was a bit messed up when I found him— or rather he found me. I just knocked him out,” April explained.

“Of course he did; and of course you did,” he said, sighing (fondly, though he wouldn’t admit it) and scruffling April’s hair.

“Hey!”, she protested to no avail.

“I need to leave now,” Donnie said. “I believe I have all my arms.” April snickered, the sentence sounding funny to her, even though she knew what he meant. Donnie just stared at the ground. He could almost hear his twin. ‘Unlike me’, he would pout; Donnie would groan and face-palm, then say, ‘Seriously, ‘Nardo? This is extremely important; We don’t have time for puns!’, and Donnie would throw his hands up in exasperation. Donnie smiled and shook his head as he recalled this happening on multiple occasions.

“Knock-knock? Anyone in there?”, April poked, waving her hand in front of his face as much as she could.

“Oh, right. Yes, I’m here. Apologies,” Donnie said, snapping out of his quote-on-quote “trance”.

“No worries. See ya later, then?”, checked April. He could hear the hope in her voice; he needed it.

“Why, of course, my dear friend. May I have your phone for a moment? I don’t want to bother hacking into it right now”, Donnie asked as he opened the door. Fresh New York air blasted his face and he breathed deeply. I didn’t know I missed this so much…

“Uuuuuhhhhh, sure,” April handed her phone to him.

Donnie went to contacts and added his phone number and email. “There,” he said, handing the phone back. “I labeled myself as ‘Donatello Senior’, should you not misunderstand who is trying to contact you.”

“Oh, thanks! And, seriously. Stop talking like that.” She made a disgusted face at his choice of phrasing.

“Sigh. I suppose not everyone might be able to have such a well rounded vocabulary and selection of sentence phrasing as I,” he sagged dramatically. April rolled her eyes and he smiled. Donnie knelt down and gave April a hug. It didn’t compare to Raph’s, but it definitely just passed as ‘sufficiency’. “Bye,.. April,” Donnie said, just outside the thresh-hold.

“Bye, Don. Thanks for choosing to come to my neck of the woods first! See ya later!!!”, April waved enthusiastically as Donnie walked down the front steps and into the alley-way.

Donnie waved back for a moment, then continued on his walk until he reached a man-hole cover. The mutant lifted it, peeking inside to make sure it was safe. “Well,” he said to himself as he pulled up the holo-screen on his gauntlet again, “time to go…home.” He jumped into the grimy sewer, not seen by any other human eye that night.

__________________

Chapter 1!!! Yippeeee!!!!! I've had the first five chapters written out for months, so I'm happy that I'm getting the first one out!

Also, @queenofthewigglers, you seemed interested, so here you go :)

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-

Footnotes:

the hug is only crushing due to their size difference

tortilla pronunciation (for those who do not know) -- tore-tea-a (idk how to do pronunciation dictionary stuff shdjsshsg)

the name "Donnie" meets the word "doppelgänger"

#Fire and rain #F.A.R.#far #Rottmnt #Rottmnt donnie #Rottmnt april #Rottmnt future donnie #Future donnie #Rottmnt April O' Neil #Rottmnt Carol O' Neil #Rottmnt Carol #Rottmnt April's mom #Idk her cannon name #Writing #Fanfiction #Eeeeeee!!!#Rottmnt au #My writing

13 notes · View notes

jeannefostergoriot · 1 year ago

Text

Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez x Biana Vacker (from Nocturna principally)

« Hey girl, open the walls, play with your dolls, we’ll be a perfect family ». Biana knows. They are supposed to be perfect. To appear perfect. But she knows too. They are far from it. They never were. But now? Alvar’s betrayal? Her almost murdered? Fitz’ almost killing Alvar in Flashback? Yeah no.

« When you walk away is when we really play »: the real breathe? It almost was the one when she was exiled. She says very early in the series how she doesn’t like that everyone come to her as fame-diggers or as a way to approach her brother.

« You don’t hear me when I say »: perfect Lost Cities system doesn’t hear before there’s a major scandal.

« Mom, please wake up »: Mom, please, don’t trust Alvar and his memory loss. Didn’t trust him neither.

« Dad’s with a slut »: not a slut. But Alden has always been scheming and giving out secret missions and hiding things.

« And your son is smoking cannabis »: and Fitz is slowly approaching a breaking point. Biana probably knew what would happen if Alvar betrayed again. That Fitz would snap. And she didn’t hold him.

« No one ever listens »: Biana is quite literally invisible. And why would anyone believe the royal family isn’t perfect?

« This wallpaper glistens »: yeah. Everything glistens. Biana likes that but…

« Don’t let them see what goes down in the kitchen »: aka the war between the kids. The tininess of the links. The way she never gets to be close with her dad.

« Places, places, get in your places »: for what was supposed to be the beautiful light show of the century… and actually became a scandal.

« Throw on your dresses and put on your doll faces »: hiding the scars. Hiding the battles. Hiding they were gone.

« Everyone thinks that we’re perfect, please don’t let them look through the curtains ». At one point, Biana probably cared to save at least the appearances. If that was all that could be saved.

« Picture, picture, smile for the picture, pose with your brother, won’t you be a good sister? » post Flashback. Well, at the end rather. The moment where she, too, stops pressing buttons. No, she won’t pose for the picture, not with the traitor. He’s not her brother anymore.

« D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E »: the Vackers are dolls to the system, victims of their perfection.

« I see things that nobody else sees. » For Biana we can take that literally. She sneaks everywhere. She knows secrets.

« Hey, girl, look at my mom, she’s got it going on, ha you’re blinded by her jewelry »: Della, « the Neverseen », clearly done with being mistaken for fragile beauty princess. Very shiny though.

« When you turn your back, she pulls out a flask »: when you turn your back, Della is bullying the Councilor to get on missions. She goes ultra invested in everything she can.

« And forget his infidelity »: nah, Alden’s not cheating. Though. Della is in everything 200% cause there are secrets and she doesn’t like that.

« Uh-oh, she’s coming to the attic, plastic, go back to being plastic, plastic »: ooops people are watching. Go back try to be perfect. Back at school. Back with our friends. No words.

« One day, they’ll see what goes down in the kitchen »: they had a glimpse while the Everglen Scandal. Biana uncovered her scars. She wants to throw it.

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #biana vacker #I had the idea yesterday #cause the Vackers are a Dollhouse #and when I started it was obvious to go with Biana’ pov #cause she’s like a perfect Barbie in the beginning #dollhouse #melanie martinez #song analysis

10 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 7 months ago

Text

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Five) (18+) / SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 7.0k / navigation / inbox

A/N: Thank you all for waiting for this chapter! I know it took me longer to finish this one than it did the others but it's the longest chapter so far, and I also had a lot of major life events go down in the time between this chapter and last. I appreciate each and every single one of you who stayed patient with me, and I hope that this chapter and that the rest to come are worth the wait :) <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You’re doing a terrible job at paying attention to where you’re going as you take the elevator, jamming your finger against the 12 button so hard it hurts. Pizza is on the twelfth floor, and you’re hoping Daniel will be there early like you so that you can forget about Jake and his tyrannical rule.

It’s clear as day to you; Jake thinks he has control over you just the same way he has control over the girls that drool over him at the Hard Deck. He thinks one glance will melt your brain into mush, but it won’t. It doesn’t, and you’re not letting the cockiest man you know believe he’s won you over. Especially one that you work with. If anyone found out- if any of your fellow aviators knew that you’d succumbed to Jake’s charms… you’d risk losing the respect you’ve fought hard to earn on the tarmac. You’re not letting your career take a nosedive because Jake won’t stop bragging about getting his dick wet. He doesn’t get a say in your life if he has nothing genuine to contribute to it. You know him well enough to know that caving in and fucking would be the worst decision of your life, and you refuse to let him feel like he’s won you like a prize. You’re standing up for yourself; if he can shit-talk Daniel, you can shit-talk Miss Melons.

Your skin prickles with annoyance the more you think about the woman that had approached you both- seriously, did she not consider that she was being intrusive and rude? You assume Jake has snagged her away from her roommate by now, and they’re probably having a better time than you are.

Everything feels unfair, down to the coincidental roommate placement. It’s like the universe had heard you needed a break, and wanted to punish you for it.

Cracking open your book helps, but it takes you a while to get into the groove. You’re sitting poolside across from the pizza place, eyes glancing from page to parlor every once in a while to check for a certain bearded man. The main lead is compelling, and your stomach soars as you imagine Daniel in a cowboy hat. You’d save that horse.

Peace is hard to find while sitting poolside on a cruise, but chaos is actually the perfect white noise for you to read, and your concentration isn’t broken until a shadow falls over your lounge chair. You glance up, but it’s not the man you’d wanted to see.

“Hey.” Jake’s already frowning, his face apprehensive like he thinks you’ll scream at him to get away. You want to, but you don’t want to cause a scene.

“What, Hangman?”

“I’m not trying to control you.” He pushes despite seeing your gaze back on your book, “I just don’t think you’re meant to be with Daniel. But I shouldn’t have given you a hassle for doing the same thing to me. I just… I do it because-”

He stops short, glancing sideways at a man running despite the clear no running sign on the lifeguard tower. You decide to help him in his moment of need.

“Because you’re used to women who let you walk all over them. Even if you’re not trying to control me, you’re used to having that control. It’s familiar for you, so you expect it, even if you don’t know you’re doing it. But I’m not like that. You can’t keep me waiting on you.”

The scoff he lets out is accompanied by an expression that looks truly pained, “That ain’t it at all. But forget it. Don’t worry about why I do it. I just thought maybe you were doin’ it to me for the same reasons. But never mind. I’ll shut up about Daniel. Truce?”

You glare up at him, book still open in your lap. He extends an uncharacteristically helping hand, and you wait a truly uncomfortable amount of time before taking it and shaking once.

“Truce.”

He takes the chair beside you, stretched out in the sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your reading time is over as his head turns to you, “So, Dudley showed up yet?”

“He’s coming for lunch.” You cling to your novel, trying desperately to ignore Jake and his instantly broken promise, “What about Melon girl, they weren’t ripe enough for you?”

“She wasn’t my type.” He starts, and there’s a heavy silence before he continues, “I don’t like a woman who thinks it’s fun to get between a couple.”

The sideways glance you send Hangman, the ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk, is lethal.

“Anyways.” He continues, tone more casual now, “Fancy a swim, darlin’?”

“I’ll read instead,” You offer, “But you have fun, Hangman.”

“Party Pooper,” He accuses, standing from the lounge chair he’s occupying and stretching briefly, “You’re an absolute mood-killer. No fun, the most boring person on this boat.”

“I’m about to be more of one: have you put sunscreen on?”

“Nope,” He grins, “You volunteering to do the honors, you sleazy thing?”

“Absolutely not. But you can use the stuff in my bag.” You nod at your tote bag, “Don’t use it all, though.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake nods, folding into a seat on the edge of the lounge chair beside yours, “So, what’s going on in that book, they boning yet?”

“Mhm.” You nod absently as Jake begins smearing sunscreen over his arms and legs, “Real sexy stuff.”

“I’ve got somethin’ sexier for you.”

“It’s a porn book, Hangman,” You clarify, in case he’s forgotten, “I’m trying to read porn. Leave me alone.”

“There’s porn right here!” He calls, arms out to show off his impressively tanned and toned chest, a thick layer of sunscreen giving it a sheen that glistens in the light. As reluctant as you are to admire anything about Jake, you can’t lie; he has a body worth ogling. But you will not ogle it.

“This porn’s better,” You hum, glancing up at Jake through your lashes, deceptively inviting, “This guy’s got a cowboy hat on.”

“I’ve got a million and one cowboy hats,” Jake insists, slowly inching towards you and away from the edge of the pool, “Is that really all it takes, darlin’? ‘Cause I can slap one on in seconds, if that’s what you’re after. ‘Even brought one with me in case my roommate was into it.”

“Mm, maybe,” You let him get closer, excitement clearly swirling in his eyes as he advances towards your chair. He doesn’t notice the shifting of your feet until it’s too late and one is shoving firmly against his chest, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling backwards into the pool.

There’s not anyone in his immediate vicinity besides you, so you take the brunt of the splash, but it’s worth it.

“But I like it better when the hat’s on a real gentleman!” You call, laughter interrupting your words as Jake emerges from the pool well and truly soaked, shaking water out of his hair. He’s been thoroughly underwater trained, so he’d been able to catch his breath in time despite the surprise of it all, and there’s no real harm done besides the initial splash.

“You dirty rotten minx,” He calls, water dripping from his short hair into his eyes, “You lured me in with the promise of cowboy hat sex just to push me in the pool?”

“I can’t believe you fell for it!” You’re still laughing, but maybe this bout of giggles is only to annoy him, “That’s, like, the oldest trick in the book. Well, maybe besides the cowboy hat sex thing. But you shouldn’t have gotten so close!”

He braces his elbows on the wall of the pool, the border surely burning his skin. But he stares at you regardless, “I thought you were finally givin’ in.”

“It’d take a lot more than a cowboy hat to make me give in, Jake.” You laugh, turning back to your book, “Like, a full personality transplant.”

Jake hears Danica’s words repeated back to him in his head, ‘Show, don’t tell’.

“Noted. I’ll look into one’uh those,” He quips, smile sarcastic and empty as he resorts to swimming alone, “Hey, when you’re done with that chapter, you should join me.”

“No.”

“Alright.”

You glance away from the book’s pages at Hangman’s unusual, immediate acceptance of your refusal. But he lifts himself out of the water- no stairs, no ladder, only his forearms against the deck, and your stomach sinks as you realize he might be playing a game of wills with you.

Instead, he sits beside you again, this time facing away from you, “Will you rub some sunscreen on my back?”

You want to say no. You would, if he were only asking to feel your hands on him. And maybe that’s part of it, but you also know that as much as he tans, he could burn, and his back is the only part of himself that he can’t reach. You’d want someone to do you the solid too, so you sigh and set your book aside.

“Fine. But you owe me.”

“Mhm.” He nods, passing you the sunscreen, “I’ll rub it wherever you want, Y/N.”

You whack him upside the head with the bottle, and when he hisses in pain and pitches forwards, you squirt some of the lotion onto your palm and begin applying it to the broad, tanned, muscled expanse of his back.

You’re no masseuse, but apparently you’re rubbing all the right places, because Jake lets out grunts and groans that are borderline pornographic. If they were coming from anyone else, you might have squirmed in your seat, but each one sends your eyes rolling skywards as you cover Jake’s skin in goopy sun lotion.

“Damn, you’re good.” Jake grunts as you dig into a knot beneath his shoulder blade, “Do that again?”

“I’m putting sunscreen on you, Jake, not working out muscle tension.”

“Oh, come on, just a little more?” He pleads, turning so that he can glance at you from the side of his gaze, eyes shining in prayer.

You dig extra hard into his muscle, and you take some sort of wicked pleasure in the way that his resulting groan is more of a pained yelp than something of enjoyment.

“There, Hangman.” You whack the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades, “You’re all oiled up.”

“Aren’t you glad you were the one to get to do it?” Jake grins blindingly, and you bury your nose in your book again to avoid answering his question.

“Oh, you can stick your face in that book all you want,” Jake drawls, and you hear the displacement of the water he steps in as he lowers himself into the pool, gracefully and by choice this time, “But I know you liked having your hands all over me, darlin’.”

You want to gripe something back- something witty and cutting that will tear him down where he stands, but he’s turned away from you, already submerging himself to begin swimming laps. You admire his dedication to exercise even while on vacation- you have no plans to visit the gym in the lower decks.

Jake sees the diving board just as you do, and you keep him in your peripheral vision as he climbs out of the pool to make his way up the ladder. Your novel is begging to be read, but your eyes stick firm on one fitting word- ‘abdomen’ so that you can watch Jake from the corner of your eye as he prepares to dive.

Fortunately, you don’t need to continue the ruse of reading because Jake bellows from across the deck, “Y/N, look!”

You’re met with a grin when you look up at him, his arms raised above his head and joined flush together in diving position, “I’m gonna dive- watch me.”

“I’m watching.” You call, injecting your voice with as much disinterest as you can manage without feeling guilty, “This feels like babysitting, Hangman.”

He dives instead of quipping back, and it’s an impressive one, not that you’ll sing his praises for it. He comes up on the side of the pool closest to you, arms flinging an arc of water onto the concrete before you.

“Was it good?” He asks, panting slightly, hanging onto the wall.

“Yes,” You reply, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you condescend to him, “You did so good, honey.”

“Shut up,” He sends a wave of water splashing over your sandals, and you can’t be mad at him after all the teasing you’ve been inflicting upon him.

“I’ve been workin’ on my diving,” He goes back to swimming around, this time more casual as he keeps his head above the water to speak with you, “My nieces back home are learnin’ to swim so I’ve been in the pool a lot lately. Anytime they drag me in there I dive in and splash them.”

His arms cut through the water with strength and ease, confident strokes as you mull over his words. The image of Jake urging a toddler in floaties to cross a 3-foot gap into his arms is- endearing, not that you’ll admit it. You hum in acknowledgement, and tuck back into your book.

There’s not many people in the pool this early- most are probably still in bed with a hangover and a mess to clean up - and it’s large to boot, so there’s plenty of room. Your eyes drift left and catch sight of a jacuzzi, and suddenly your beach chair seems to pale in comparison.

Okay, you won’t join Jake in the pool, but you’ll relax for a couple of minutes in the jacuzzi. Just until Daniel gets here.

Jake doesn’t notice that you’ve stood until your chair is empty, and you have a perfect view of him floundering, scanning the entire deck until he spots you half-submerged in the hot tub.

You get to laugh at him again, and he grants you a good-natured grin instead of getting annoyed.

“I thought you’d finally found what’s-his-name,” Jake swims over to the separation wall that keeps the hot water parted from the cold, “Mind if I join you, Y/N?”

“Only if you’re- careful!” You shriek, trying desperately to protect the pages of your book from his sopping wet skin as he scales the barrier, “Hangman, if this book gets wet, you’re replacing it for me.”

“Alright, alright! I’ll take you on a shopping spree, relax. Hey, if I’m buyin’ you porn books, doesn’t that make me somethin’ like a sugar daddy?”

“You’re not getting any sugar,” You shrug, “But sure.”

“Just call me daddy, Y/N.” He grins, “That’s all the sugar I need.”

You hide behind your book so that he can’t see the way your face wrinkles into a grimace. The heat from the jacuzzi spreads inexplicably quick all of a sudden, warming your neck, your ears, your face, and Jake lets out a thick, heavy groan as he settles into the warm water.

“This is nice.” He muses, eyes closed, “Real relaxing.”

“It’s less relaxing when someone’s talking the whole time,” You peek across the side of your book, “Shut up, maybe?”

Jake snorts, leaning his head back against the edge of the pool, “Alright, alright your majesty. I’ll stay silent.”

You don’t verbally thank him, but you don’t make a scene when his leg drifts across the jet currents of the jacuzzi to brush against yours.

You cover a good chunk of your novel before a voice calls your name, and this time it’s the two people you’d been hoping to see all morning. Danica waves giddily at you and Jake, who’s picked his head up from where you thought he’d fallen asleep and is already mad-dogging Daniel. You wave back to Danica, and cast a quick glance down at your bathing suit before standing to greet Daniel. It’s just as tight and showy as you prefer it to be.

You pay no attention to Jake where he gets out behind you, too focused on Daniel to care. But perhaps you should have, because you’re two steps from meeting Daniel in the middle when Jake’s strong arm shoves you sideways, and your book is wrenched from your grasp as you fall sideways into the pool.

It’s cold, colder even because you’d been soaking in the hot tub. You’re surprised, but you suppose you can’t even really be mad at him considering it’s just payback for what he’d done to you.

You’ve barely righted yourself in the water before there’s another splash beside you, and when you finally emerge there’s hands reaching for your waist, Daniel’s as you realize he’d jumped in to help you.

“You-!” You splutter at Jake with bleary, chlorine-soaked eyes, attention split between Daniel who’s trying to ensure you’re alright, and Jake who’s snickering while holding your book in his thankfully dry hand.

“You asshole.” Daniel finishes for you, “She could have drowned!”

“I know how to swim,” You brace a hand on Daniel’s chest- startlingly bare, but riddled with coarse, brown hair, “It’s fine, I- I pushed him in earlier.”

“Relax, Prince Charming. It’s just a bit of payback. And look,” Jake waves your novel in front of you, “Dry as a bone.”

“Well I am- uh, not.” You stand half-submerged in the pool, Daniel still holding onto your waist, “So, I guess I will go swimming.”

“Great. You can swim with us.” Daniel smiles, warm and inviting as he keeps his hands on you.

“Yeah, us.” Jake agrees, taking Danica’s towel and spreading it over a sunny lounge chair for her.

Jake helps lower Danica gently into the pool, holding her hand while she takes the stairs, before jumping in beside you so that you’re splashed by the wave he creates.

“You are an asshole,” You laugh, breaking away from Daniel’s grip to shove at Jake’s shoulder. The grins on your faces are bright and genuine, perhaps the first time you’ve both been able to laugh with each other the entire trip. It feels nice, and you don’t fight when he shoves back at you with strong arms.

“Hey- hey!” Danica shouts, standing behind Daniel with a hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you turn that pushing and shoving into a game of chicken?”

“I’m down,” Daniel seems thrilled to be opposite Jake as he lowers himself for Danica to climb atop his shoulders, “Y/N, you okay on his shoulders?”

Jake does the honors himself, dunking himself under the water and coming up between your legs. You barely have time to plant your hands on the top of his head, fingers twisting instinctively into his hair as you accidentally tug it while he stands at his full height again.

“Shit, sorry Hangman.” You let go of his hair, hoping you hadn’t yanked too hard. He’s forgiven, for now, so you won’t resort to childish things like hair-pulling.

“That’s okay, darlin’.” He grins, craning his neck back to meet your eye, “I like it when you tug on my hair.”

You have to overlook Jake’s suggestive comment as Danica’s already reaching for you, and you eagerly engage in a shoving match while the two men beneath you plant themselves into the bottom of the pool. You manage to get a leg up on Danica, and they’re both pushed backwards by the force of your shove, but Daniel surges forwards and ends up knocking you and his roommate right into each other.

You collapse against Danica, forehead-to-forehead, giggling like little girls. Her eyes are bright and shining with amusement, and her breath smells minty- like gum, not toothpaste. You’re more than happy to begin pushing at each other again, and though you’re confident your navy-built muscles are going to prevail, she lands a critical shove against your shoulder that throws you off-balance and sends you toppling off of Jake’s shoulders.

The water is cold, colder than you remember as you splash into it, and when you come up for air, already laughing, Jake’s facing you, having turned when you’d fallen from his shoulders. He’s grinning too, a hand already outstretched to help you up, but upon seeing you stand his eyes widen and his face drops.

“Shit.” He lunges for you, cutting through the water as his arm wraps around your back to yank you tight against his chest. You protest, grunting with exertion as you try fighting against his grip. But his muscles are impressive, and you’re trapped against his chest despite your best efforts.

“Would you cut it out? I’m trying to help you. Your top came untied.”

“What?” You splutter, water trailing down your face as you quell your instinctive struggle against his crushing hold. You realize that the reason for the extreme cold had, in fact, been because your bikini top had abandoned ship, and you barely have time to process the feeling of your bare tits slammed up against Jake’s hard, toned chest before he’s fishing the bathing suit out of the water and feeding it around your waist.

“Up,” He instructs, lifting his eyes to the expansive blue sky above you so that you can separate yourself from his chest for long enough to cover your own again. It’s- a strange gesture of courtesy that you would have expected from Daniel, sure, but not Jake. Perhaps that’s why you’re so sluggish, why it takes you longer than expected to fit your top back over your tits and grapple with the strings.

“You decent?” Jake asks, and when you grunt in confirmation he drops his eyes again. He notices you struggling with the ties and reaches for them himself, gently swatting your fingers away as he uses his advantage of sight. It presses his muscular shoulder up against your face, and you turn so that your cheek rests against it instead of your nose. Suddenly you’re held against his chest like a slow dance, and something terribly and inexplicably squirmy happens in your stomach.

“Done. I double knotted it.” He hums, and it’s such a sincere tone, one that’s completely vacant of all his usual dickishness, that you lose yourself staring at his face when he pulls away. You begin examining it for any sign that perhaps he was murdered and replaced with a poorly-trained doppelganger.

His hair looks right, albeit sopping wet. His eyebrows are growing slightly bushier than usual, but nothing you’d consider a complete and total imposter. His nose is still the same: strong, slightly downturned (though not as far as Rooster’s), and there’s a tiny patch of sunscreen that hasn’t been rubbed in near his right eye. His mouth is set in a determined purse as he double knots the strings of your bikini top together, and his eyes- his eyes are different.

Miles different than you’ve ever seen them. The outside edge of his hazel-green rings is softened, like someone has blurred their usual sharp border and lined it with suede. His pupils are huge, and they’d be eclipsing his irises if those weren’t so big and puppy-like. He is, in every sense of the word, gentle, inside and out.

Jake has never been gentle before.

“You alright?” He asks, and you snap back to reality with his large hands spread over the expanse of your bare back, the eyes that you’d been examining firmly and concernedly fixed upon you. Only a few meager strings separate his skin from yours, and you nod once, steadily as you gently push his arms off of you.

“Let’s go again,” You call to Danica and Daniel, your voice a piss-poor attempt at strength and nonchalance as it lacks its usual life, “Good hit, Danica. But watch out, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Bring it,” She grins gleefully, and her giddy gaze drifts downwards to Jake’s face when he lifts you onto his shoulders yet again. From the looks of it they share some sort of silent conversation- some inside joke that you’re not privy to.

Something about that, something about her excluding you from a conversation with your own teammate makes you shove her, not enough to knock her off of Daniel’s shoulders, but enough to show her that you’re not going easy on her. She shrieks giddily as she writhes to stay balanced on Daniel’s shoulders, a smidge less broad than Jake’s. You’re thankful for that, for the steady mount you’ve got, as you resume pushing and shoving at Danica.

Jake is going insane. Not only does the phantom sensation of your bare tits- nipples hard from the chilly pool water - stick to him like a wet t-shirt, he can feel you against the back of his neck, your warm sex nestled snugly against him with only the bottom half of your bikini to separate you. Your thighs bracket his head, close enough for him to reach out and bite at, but he has to focus on keeping his stance sturdy so that you can play properly. Daniel’s glaring viciously at him across the few feet that separates the four of you, and he’s not going to let Mr. Mailman win.

This time, Jake suspects you’ve used that military muscle of yours, because Danica slips backwards off of Daniel’s dewy shoulders and splashes into the pool. Your hand cups beneath Jake’s chin, tilting his head upwards and leaning it back into your lap.

“Nice one,” He grins upside-down at you, and you bump your fist against his when he offers it. Then you’re craning your neck down, surely uncomfortable as you leave mere inches between your lips and his, and his ears are ringing.

“Back up,” You murmur, disguising it as a congratulatory speech while Daniel helps Danica back onto his shoulders, “Get them to chase us and we’ll use the momentum against them.”

“Darlin’,” Jake proclaims, pride puffing up his chest that your legs are resting against, “You’re my kinda woman. Always looking to win.”

“Just do it, Hangman,” You scoff, but your eye-roll is less than irritated, fond if anything due to your partnership as Jake drops his head to face Daniel and Danica once more.

Jake stands in place where he’d been before, but when Danica engages with you he begins backing up. Slowly, carefully, ensuring that his feet are planted steadily each step so that you’re not tipped over, he makes his way towards the drop off towards the deeper end of the water. Daniel follows, taking the bait, and soon enough his predicament becomes obvious: he’s not as tall as Jake.

He stands somewhere close to six feet, surely, but not past it like Jake does. Your partner’s head is still comfortably above water, smirk in full force as Daniel’s beard becomes waterlogged.

“That’s not fair!” Danica laughs, petting sympathetically at Daniel’s sopping wet hair, “Poor guy, we’ll get you stilts for the next round.”

Daniel lands a teasing pinch against the curve of her ass and she shrieks. You lunge for her, using her momentary shock to catch her off guard as you send her tumbling backwards into the water behind Daniel.

You don’t have time to celebrate before Jake is ducking down and slipping himself out from beneath you, his strong arms bracing your fall so that you barely sink a few feet into the water. He crushes you in a celebratory hug, his laughter harmonizing with your own. He turns you both to face Daniel and Danica as they splutter to catch their breath, his cheek pressed flush against your own.

“Chicken Champions,” He declares, holding you tight to his side at his own height, which means your feet float above his own in the water, “I’d offer to go again, but that’d just be cruel. You ladies wanna chatter in the hot tub while Danny-Boy and I show off on the diving board?”

“I brought a book,” Danica hums, face dripping with water you feel only mildly guilty for submerging her in, “If you wanna read, Y/N, I’ll do it with you.”

“Perfect.” Daniel nods, already cutting through the water on his way to the diving board, “I’ll be careful not to splash you guys.”

“I won’t.” Jake supplies helpfully, his grin turned shit-eating as he eyes you up, “No point in reading one of them smutty porn books if you’re not soaking wet.”

“Splash me and I’ll throw your room key off the side of the boat, Hangman,” You promise, “You’ll be begging strangers to take pity on you in the elevator.”

“Nah, that’s not my style,” Jake’s voice is dripping with intent while Daniel takes position on the diving board, his swim trunks dripping steady trails of water. You don’t know why until he continues, taking his own bait, “I’ll leave that to Daniel.”

You blame Jake’s comment for why Daniel’s dive nearly turns into a belly flop. It’s instantaneous, really, Daniel’s changing of posture as he register’s Jake’s biting words, and you have half a mind to admonish Jake for riling Daniel up during a dive- that could have ended badly. As it stands, Daniel does a sort of cannonball, though not intentionally, and you and Danica cringe in unison when he lands, sending water splashing well over the divider into the hot tub. Your book remains mostly unscathed- only a droplet of water lands on the cover and obscures the male lead’s face, blurring out his beard and making him appear clean-shaven.

Jake is already scaling the ladder, and when he gets to the top he surveys Daniel emerging from the water.

“Six,” He shrugs, sneering down at Daniel from the highest point on the deck, “‘Could’ve clinched a seven if you hadn’t splashed the ladies, but your form was still shit.”

He doesn’t give Daniel a chance to fire back- or maybe the man is just too smart to take Jake’s bait - before he sets his arms together above his head, and seamlessly, impeccably cuts through the water. For someone so muscular and bulky, his form is graceful- not that you’ll ever tell him that. Water arcs outwards from where he’d landed, one half of the splash practically targeting Daniel where he stands watching.

He swims farther, nearly reaching the other end of the pool before he emerges, shaking water from his hair like a dog as he looks intently at you and Danica in the hot tub for a rating.

“Ten!” Your reading companion shouts, blessedly unaware of the tense atmosphere- or again, too intelligent to fall for Jake’s lowly antics- and you look at the water-stained cover of your novel.

You smear away the water droplet with your dry thumb, and the male main character’s beard returns.

“Four.” You call, voice deadpan as you lock your eyes on your novel, “For playing dirty and sabotaging the other contestants.”

Hangman’s grin is open-mouthed and cemented into place as he stands taller than Daniel in the water, tanned skin standing starkly out from the blue of the chlorinated water, “Dirty’s the best way to play, darlin’.”

Danica shoots you a look from behind the spread of her novel that you’ve sent many-a-girlfriend before. It’s the wide-eyed, restrained smile that screams ‘We’re talking about this later’, and you mirror her expression with your own disdain.

“Leave us alone,” You call, grinning apologetically at Daniel so that he knows he’s only a bystander, “We want to read.”

“Let’s leave the ladies to their smut, Dorian.” Jake calls, louder than he needs to be as he stretches to display his toned abdomen and muscled arms, “We can find our own fun. Wanna see who can swim the fastest? Place your bets, ladies: pilot or mailman?”

“You swam pretty slow when you crash-landed in the Pacific that one time,” You muse, fighting to keep a smirk off of your face, “I remember thinking you would die in the time it took for you to swim back to shore.”

“Wouldn’t’ve gone so slow if I wasn’t hauling my RIO back to shore. He hit his head on the way down,” Jake dips his head towards Danica, happily regaling her with the tale, and you realize you’ve only fluffed his ego more, “So he was unconscious. Well I couldn’t just leave him there, ‘poor guy was only a trainee. So I took him along. It did slow me down, but,” He heaves a disgusting, gaudy, fake sigh, “It was worth it to send him back home to his mama.”

You taste a hint of blood where you’ve apparently chewed through your lip. You let it go and hope nothing escapes your mouth. It would be a shame to stain the pages of your novel red.

You’re trying very hard not to pay attention to Jake and Danica where he’s engaged her in a staring contest. Well, you suppose it’s not much of a contest that she can win: the point is that you’re losing. Jake’s showing off his impressive build, still running his mouth with every vaguely self-complementary anecdote he can embellish, and Danica is taking the bait, which means that your rampant attempts to cool Jake’s ego have failed.

You let the warm, borderline-hot water sink into your skin and simmer alongside the building irritation that threatens to blow beneath the surface. You’re tired. This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for you- or, if not relaxing, a good way to blow off steam. You were supposed to be bent in half up against the shower wall by now, not bending the pages of your book with the strong grip you’ve cemented onto them while you mediate Jake’s ego and the willingness of so many women to accommodate it.

Part of you wants to let loose and have fun- not with Jake, of course. Never with Jake. But part of you wants to act rationally, forget the constant rivalry between you two and let him shack up with whoever will show him her tits first. But the other part of you, the one that cheers every time he places second in a show of skill, wants to knock him down a peg. It’s why you’re so persistently humbling him- or, trying to, at least. Something about him putting on this cocky persona- erasing all human emotion to make way for pure sleaze puts you on edge, and you pity the fool who believes it.

You can’t tell if Danica’s that fool yet, because she’s turned back to her book with a smile, but to her credit she doesn’t ogle him while he’s swimming. It would be easy to- he’s all tanned muscle and gestures that show off just the right curve or vein. He knows how to preen, but Danica seems to be minding her own business. That makes it easier for you to read your own novel; you don’t feel like you have to keep an eye out for her anymore.

You’re not sure whether it’s a love for the act or a wordless competition to outswim the other that keeps Jake and Daniel occupied with lapping the pool for so long, but as more and more people filter out of their rooms and onto the deck, there’s not much room for recreation anymore.

“Are you done?” You ask Danica, peering over at her after someone unknowingly sends a wave of water straight for you both, narrowly avoiding soaking your novels.

“I think I’m done.” She nods sheepishly, rushing to stand and keep her book dry, “Should we run away before the men notice we’re leaving?”

“Excellent plan,” You laugh, but you can practically feel Jake’s eagle eye upon you as you race for your towel, leaving soaked footprints behind on the wooden deck, “We should go get some pizza. They’re making more now that it’s a little busier out here.”

“You shouldn’t stare like that.” Daniel’s irritatingly smooth voice, pitched up slightly from Jake’s and entirely free of Jake’s rugged charm, makes Jake’s lips yearn to curl into a sneer.

Jake pivots in the cold pool water to face Daniel rather unimpressed, a scoff begging to burst from his lips, “Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat, or something.” Daniel’s arms are crossed, and Jake plants his feet firmly against the concrete floor of the pool.

“Oh, you’re so virtuous,” Jake drawls, his skin burning and not from the rays of sun hitting it directly, “You frenched her in an elevator, Daniel, you’ve got no room to be talking to me about class.”

“She wanted me to kiss her. She kissed me.” Daniel insists, and Jake laughs- actually laughs, a grit of his teeth and a forceful exhalation of air, “That’s different than staring at her ass while she runs away from you like you’d flip her skirt up at a drive-in movie theater.”

“Flipping skirts,” Jake laughs, sadistic grin in full force, “Daniel, I’m not that old fashioned! Please, she’s in a bathing suit that she chose, for a sex cruise that she booked, and you know what? She probably wants you to be staring at her ass in it. And you don’t seem too concerned with the other people on the deck, I’m sure a few of them are looking too. And are you worried I’m looking at Danica’s ass?”

“You’re not looking at Danica’s ass.” Daniel nearly bites his tongue in an effort to keep his voice level, “Because you’re not interested in Danica. You’re interested in Y/N and you can’t have her. She’s not yours.”

“She’s not yours, either.” Jake spits, and there’s a moment of silence where both men’s chests heave with barely-suppressed tension. Jake realizes that he’s admitted to Daniel that he has no real claim over you, but the other man doesn’t fight back against not having one of his own. But you are his, you are Jake’s, in the way you’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, in the look in your eyes when you’d stared into his own earlier, in the stain on his pajama pants.

You’d moaned his name- his name, not Daniel’s.

Someone knocks into Daniel from behind, backing right into him and nudging him slightly off balance.

“Oh!” The woman shrieks, “I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine.” He offers her a tight smile, heading for the ladder, “Don’t worry about it.”

Jake hauls himself up out of the pool with nothing but his forearms, using his towel to dry his hair if only to show off the expanse of his chest to any who may be watching. He checks- you’re not.

“So,” Danica leans forwards into your space at the pizza counter, eyes meaningfully wide, “Tell me why he’s acting like this.”

“He always acts like this.” You scoff, and when she levels you with an unimpressed glare, you insist, “No, really! He’s just- everything is a competition to him, everything. I met his mom once, and she told me that he used to have races at the dinner table to see who could finish their food first. He kept making himself sick but as long as he’d beat his brothers he didn’t care. He always has to win, and right now, he’s competing for us.”

“No, he’s competing for you.” Danica corrects you, “Is he winning?”

“Hell no. He’s- he’s not really competing for me, not meaningfully. He just wants to say he ‘got me’, you know? That would be major bragging rights on the tarmac. But that’s exactly why I can’t give in- I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her fellow pilot! Then they wouldn’t see my achievements anymore, just my mistakes.”

“I get that.” She nods, “But how do you know he’s just gonna dump you?”

“I’ve watched him dump the whole of San Diego,” You scoff, “That’s what he does. He doesn’t do love, he’s the kind of guy who’s only ever interested in something quick and dirty.”

“Everyone does love.” Danica frowns, “Some people just start later in life than others. And I think he’s starting now. With you.”

“Love,” You laugh, and sure, it’s dramatic, but if it gets through to her, you don’t care, “A man who loves me would not have tormented me for my entire career.”

She tilts her head thoughtfully, “I think he does. Even if he doesn't act the way you think he should, even if he doesn't act the way you would, I think he does love you. I think he just loves differently. I think he's new to it. What has he done to torment you?”

You huff, grateful for the opportunity to vent, “He constantly tries one-upping me- again, he can’t lose. He just- he pokes and prods and teases me like we’re on the playground or something, and it’s non-stop. It’s not like he’s sweet most of the time and then there’s a few bouts of light teasing, it’s- it’s constant, and I can’t ever let my guard down, or I’ll lose.”

“So you’re fighting to win, too.” Her eyes narrow slightly, “Why?”

“Because. I can't be second-best, and I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her coworker. I’m not doing that.” You repeat.

“Oh," She laughs, "So you're both stubborn. You don't want to lose, either. But second-best is temporary, rankings come and go. And I understand your thing about not wanting to be known for sleeping with him, but even if you did sleep with him, the whole Navy doesn’t have to know.”

“They will, Hangman will brag. He always brags.”

“He won’t- not if he’s in love with you, not if you want him to keep it private.”

“He’s not in love with me-!”

“Four slices of Pepperoni, two cheese?” A large tray is placed between you and Danica at the counter you’re both leaning against, and it snaps the two of you out of your debate.

You turn to see one of the employees looking expectantly at you, and Danica stammers, “Uh, three cheese.”

“Sorry.” He smiles placatingly at her, scooping another slice onto the plate, “Three cheese.”

“Thank you.” You take the pepperoni pizza, leaving Danica to collect the cheese. You feel bad for walking away, even if you know she’s hot on your trail, but you feel frustratingly suffocated, like everyone is urging you to make the biggest mistake of your life and never considering why you simply can’t. She doesn’t know Jake, she hasn’t spent the last decade with him as he’s blown his way through tourist after tourist, bragging all the while. And he doesn’t understand what it would be like- even if he wasn’t looking to win, even if he did just want to try casual sex for fun, you’d never be able to escape that reputation.

You feel like you’re going crazy, and you plop down between Jake and Daniel where they sit at opposite sides of a table, ready to stuff your face with pizza instead of dealing with any of it.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

743 notes · View notes

diovstheworld · 2 years ago

Note

Never forget la squadra's canon gc!!! Can you write some hcs about how each of them act in the gc plz?

ahhhh of course i can! this request honestly came at the best time bc i was thinking of doing a post like this and i was already making a post about their typing styles so i’m gonna combine them all in one! thank you so much for requesting and i hope you like! also side note, this is a modern take on the group chat rather than of the period golden wind is set and ALSO i’m sorry some of these are shorter for some of the characters :(

୨ ╭ ୨୧ ✦ ︶꒷꒦・⎯⎯・⎯⎯・₊ˎ✧๑

Risotto:

proper punctuation and capital letters at all times when he’s typing

he's not one for using abbreviations very much but he does use some of the ones that formaggio has taught him

tries to keep the group chat strictly for work purposes but it never stays that way lmaooo

doesn’t really understand the memes that are sent and usually responds with a ‘???’

he’s not really one to use emojis, i feel like he would be a little confused by them

some of the others try to teach him but it never goes very well

he does use the knife emoji a lot though

his response time to messages varies. if it’s something important, he’ll respond quickly. if it’s something dumb, like a meme or something that he doesn’t feel needs his input, he’ll take longer to reply or just read the message and not reply at all

probably the tamest in the group chat

he’s the type of person who misses a lot of messages and has to scroll back so far to see all the chain of messages he’s missed

Prosciutto:

middle aged woman type texting tbh Imao

just like risotto, he has full proper puntuation and capital letters in his texts

uses text abbreviations even though he doesnt use them correctly Imao

just like risotto he’s not great with emojis but he does use them

but he uses them in completely the wrong way which is always making formaggio laugh (i think these headcanons i have are heavily based on the fact i see prosciutto and risotto as the mum and dad of the group lmaooo)

takes his time with typing so it normally takes him a while to respond to the chat

isn’t a fan of the memes that are sent in the chat mainly because i feel he would have a strange taste in memes (facebook mum type memes tbh lmao)

Illuso:

always types in lower case (he's just like me for real)

loves to send memes

probably the worst for responding

he very often leaves the guys on read which results in the boys having to harass him with messages until he answers them

always making fun of prosciutto for taking so long to type

also always making fun of any meme that isn’t his lmao

but he secretly finds a lot of them funny and even saves a lot of them

always giving nickname suggestions for the other members

Formaggio:

big user of all caps texting to be honest

regularly asked if his caps lock button is broken lmao

another one who also loves sending memes to the group

sends them at the worst times though. the other members of the squad regularly get annoyed at him for sending memes at 4am

very active in the group chat but has a bad habit of ignoring work related messages from time to time

always the one to take the conversation topic off of work and onto something completely unrelated

when he’s not sending memes, he’s normally documenting his whole life to the group tbh. he’s sending pictures anytime he sees a cute dog or cat on the street or if he sees something funny out in public

basically just constantly spamming the group chat lmao

also always giving nickname suggestions for each of the members

Ghiaccio:

another all caps enjoyer actually

except he actually is yelling unlike formaggio

again, likes to send memes but his taste in memes is awful lmao

he answers messages pretty quickly i think to be honest

i think in general he’s very active in the group chat and basically reads messages the second they come in unless he’s busy on a job

also probably harassing the group chat a lot when they don’t answer him

and since he’s impatient it’s only going to be a few minutes before he’s sending follow up messages lmao

also always gets irritated by formaggio’s spamming lmao

Melone:

also practically lives in the chat at all times and is always active

was the one who made the group chat for risotto (because i think risotto wouldn’t be too good with technology lmao) and is definitely a co-admin

always giving the members different nicknames and changing the name of the group chat

and risotto always has to change it back lmao

i also think he would type in lowercase

which i feel would annoy prosciutto which is also partly why he does it lmao

has definitely sent nudes to the group chat before (he says it was an accident but no one believes him)

Pesci:

always replying with a lot of laughing emojis to all the memes that are sent

i think he’s pretty quiet in the group chat. he doesn’t say much but he’s always reading messages

always leaves likes on messages too to let people know that he’s definitely read them

sometimes he feels to awkward to respond or doesn’t know what to say so that’s why he likes the messages instead

but he always responds to prosciutto and risottos messages first, all the others are secondary

unlike formaggio and illuso, pesci is making cute and nice nickname suggestions for the group chat

also melone is probably always scarring that poor boy with some of those photos he sends lmaooo

91 notes · View notes

zalrb · 2 years ago

Text

choices {elena/stefan/katherine fic pt. 3}

I had fun so I hope you do too.

Link to part 1: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/707929608286240768/toxic-elenastefankatherine-fic

Link to part 2: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/709460774203064320/valentines-day-elenastefankatherine-fic-pt-2

Stefan was on his sixth drink and while he was starting to get a bit wavy, the alcohol didn’t do much to dull the frustration that had kept him on edge for hours. It was a relatively novel sensation. Turmoil wasn’t new to him, neither was agony; on more than one occasion he’d wrestled with both when it came to Elena, when it came to the attempts he made to walk away from her colliding with how completely he loved her.

What he was feeling now was different, not nearly as profound and nowhere near heartbreaking, it was a fundamental disgruntlement. If Elena were the type of person to needle at him, Stefan knew that she’d be an unparalleled master at it, but since she wasn’t (save for when she was without humanity), it was Katherine who was the expert at pushing his buttons, which made him resent her, and the rush that came with pushing hers back made him resent himself. Psychological warfare that brought about arousal that brought about self-admonishment that brought about self-hatred. It was a cycle dangerously close to his relationship with blood and Stefan hated how he was letting her drag him down that vortex of dysfunctional pleasure. So, he was drinking.

He thought about the events of the night so far, how he’d walked in on Katherine in the midst of seducing Damon to near-success, how he hated Damon for nearly betraying Elena, how he hated Katherine for putting him in that position, how he hated himself for the way the thought of her and Damon together triggered something base and possessive in him.

She’d taunted him. “Tell me, when you saw us together just then, who was it that you wanted to kill, me or him?”

He’d deflected. “This is so predictable, Katherine, the minute you get bored, you stir shit up for your amusement? You don’t have any new tricks? This isn’t 1864, you don’t have the two of us on leashes.”

“You on a leash? Don’t tempt me, Stefan.”

He’d made up his mind to be through with everything, to cut off the feeling before it got any worse, any darker, and then she knew exactly what to say to get him to react.

“I will wrap him around my finger and use him whichever way I please, how many times I want, wherever I like because I know it will drive you crazy!”

“Don’t push me, Katherine.”

Words that had only encouraged her to dig deeper with glee. “I will ride him like a fucking bull. I will do everything I know will fuck with your head!”

“What gave you the impression that you know anything about me? Hmm? You don’t know shit!”

She was in his face. "You'd like to think that wouldn't you? That your precious Elena is the only who understands you, but don’t you forget that I knew you first, that you fell for me first, that because you met me, you met her. I know you in ways that she doesn’t. I can bring you to your fucking knees.”

The part of him that was holding himself back, holding everything back, keeping him from descending into the vortex of their game had disappeared.

“Well, that’s the difference between you and her isn’t it? That’s the reason you were desperate enough, pathetic enough to take over her body to get to me. She never had to bring me anywhere, I was there on my own.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Katherine had tried to play off the hurt but he saw the way his words wounded her.

And he savoured it.

“She had me in ways you couldn’t even imagine. I would fall on my face at her feet without a second thought, do you know what that's like?”

“I have an idea. Damon was obsessed with me for over a century.”

“But I wasn’t. You never made me forget her, Katherine, she made me forget you.”

Katherine had gritted her teeth. “Stop.”

“The nightmare of meeting you, you weren’t even a bad memory, you were just gone.”

Veins had started appearing. “Stefan.”

“You were right, I did worship at her altar and you’ll never know what that feels like.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?”

Katherine had grabbed him by the throat and forced him to kneel in front of her, her hand wrapped around his neck, her firm grip keeping his head in place, looking up at her. Stefan’s eyes had brightened with contempt. With … lust. The two things were so closely connected now, each bringing its own intoxication. She’d slipped two of her fingers between his lips and he sucked eliciting a sound from her in between a gasp and a laugh. She’d kissed him hard, possessing his mouth with hers until he growled low and deep.

She’d pulled away, her vise-like grip now on his chin.

“My belt,” she said.

For a moment they’d both glared at each other, neither of them doing anything else, and then Stefan removed her belt and Katherine took it with her free hand. She lowered her eyes to her jeans’ button, and he’d moved to undo it but she stopped him, first removing her grip from his chin and then bending her leg, putting her boot on his chest, pushing him slightly back with her heel.

Stefan eyes flashed, veins now starting to appear on his face; he was caught between ire and hunger. When she eased her foot off, he sat upright then bent forward, undoing the button, pulling down the zipper with his teeth. She bent her leg again and flattened him on his back, her heel on his chest, the toe of her boot beneath his chin. She pressed down and he groaned in pain until he smiled and moaned in delight.

“Now, your belt.”

Jaw clenched, he quickly unbuckled his belt.

“Boot,” she demanded.

He started breathing heavily and slowly unzipped the boot that was pressing down on his chest, taking out her foot that she immediately pressed against his face, pushed up against his chin, he put a pedicured toe in his mouth, kissed her sole.

“Other boot,” she said breathlessly.

In an instant, he’d flipped onto his front, his chin on the floor, face at her other boot and Katherine smiled, giggling, completely turned on. She could walk on him if she’d wanted, determine how much pleasure and how much pain he’d feel. She had him at her feet.

After he took off her other boot, she told him to kneel then started putting her belt around the nape of his neck, enclosing it around his throat like a collar to a leash, and then everything shifted.

Stefan took a hold of Katherine and moved.

In a quick motion, she was lying on the bed and his belt was around her neck, fastened to the headboard, her belt bound her wrists together behind her back. Stefan rid her of her shirt, her jeans, but kept her ankles unbound. The sudden change in positions had Katherine both peevish and aroused, flustered and fervent, ready and willing.

Stefan watched her pant with dark anticipation, clenched with excitement, and then headed to the door.

“Wait a minute!” she exclaimed. “You’re going?”

“Yes.”

She gaped at him. “For how long?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know yet.”

“And you’re just going to leave me like this?”

“That was the plan, yeah.”

Katherine laughed. “These are just belts, Stefan. It’ll take me less than a second to get out of them.”

“It would,” he’d agreed and then an intensity darkened his expression. “But you’re not going to move.”

“Oh really? And why is that?”

He walked back to the bed. “Because I don’t want you to,” he said simply. He moved in closer to her, his voice soft and dangerous.

“I want you to stay like this until I say otherwise and you want to give me what I want.”

Katherine looked at him defiantly. “I wouldn’t be so sure, I really do like getting my way.”

Stefan had nodded in apparent concession

and then started running his fingers up and down her legs, making her squirm slightly. He held her gaze, a hint of arrogance in his expression, and inched his fingers further and further up … between her thighs … until … Katherine gasped, arching her back.

“Tell me,” he murmured, moving his finger in circles. “What do you want to do right now?”

She took a deep breath, trying to control the moan begging to escape her, twisting her body, curling her toes.

“You want to take me, don’t you?”

She pulled against her restraints.

Stefan quickened the motion of his finger and she started to whimper. “So if that’s what you want,” he said, kissing her cheek, her neck, slipping his free hand under her shirt, massaging her. He moved slightly away to look her in the eye. “Break free of your restraints.”

Frustration mixed with pleasure contorted Katherine’s face, she’d looked determined to escape, and yet she didn’t move. Stefan smirked and then walked away again.

“I’ll be back when I’m back.”

And now he was here. He’d been at the bar for a couple of hours, knowing that Katherine was trussed up and waiting for him, annoyed at how much that turned him on, only to feel guilty when he saw Elena, beautiful in a simple black dress, clearly back from or in the middle of her Valentine’s Day date, walk into the Grill. The bartender saw her approaching and nodded, walking into the kitchen, saying, “Just going to check on that for you.”

Elena didn’t sit at the bar, though it was empty save for Stefan, and just hovered a few feet away. They looked at each other, their words from their previous conversation, their fight, hanging between them. It would’ve been easier if it was simply awkward, but it was charged and loaded and agonizing. Fighting with her had always been unbearable, even when it wasn’t real.

He made the first overture. “How was the big night?”

Elena didn’t want to talk about her night, she wanted to ask him about his. “It was fine. Good. Damon pulled out all the stops. Someone messed up, though, and they released pigeons instead of doves?”

Stefan nodded his head. “That seems about right,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

Where was Katherine? Was she meeting him there? Did he stop seeing her? Was there someone else he was meeting for Valentine’s Day?

“I told him it didn’t matter but it was on his mind all night,” said Elena.

Stefan shrugged. “Well, he wanted it to be special, he spent a lot of time on it.”

“I know. It didn’t really ruin anything for me.”

“Just keep telling him that.”

Don’t ask him, don’t ask him, don’t ask him, don’t ask him…

“Yeah, I know the drill.”

Stefan chanced one more glance at her. “So, what are you doing here then?”

“He took me to some fancy restaurant and fancy food is great but not very filling.”

He nodded. “Ah.”

“So we ordered take away. I’m just picking up.”

Stefan continued to drink. “Well, enjoy.”

“Thanks.”

Elena looked at him. Don’t ask him. Don’t ask --

“Well, what about you, why are you here?” She was unable to keep the venom out of her tone. “No special plans tonight?”

“Not really, no,” said Stefan.

Elena raised her eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“I’m just having a drink.”

“You don’t drink alone in bars, Stefan, not unless something’s wrong.”

“Today’s an exception, I guess.”

He was shutting her out. “Don’t do that,” said Elena. “I’m just asking---”

“But you’re not really asking.”

Elena sat down next to him, indignant. “And why wouldn’t I be? I told you a bit about my night.”

“OK, let’s just say I’m not releasing two dozen doves for anyone.”

“Or going to any Victorian balls,” she whispered.

Their eyes glistened as if they were sharing the same memory of that night, the ballroom, the dancing, the feel of the bookshelves, of the fabric of the chaise, the ripe, wet urgency of their lovemaking…

“No,” he said finally, lowering his gaze. “Nothing like that.”

Elena’s relief was only outmatched but the nagging curiosity -- if she could even call it that -- about what he was doing and who with, she didn’t want to know but also wanted to with her whole being.

“But there is something.”

“Elena…”

“You’ve always respected me enough to be honest with me, I just want to know---”

He rubbed his eyes.

“You really want to know? You really want to know that right at this moment she’s tied up in my bed waiting for me and I’m about to go over there?”

Elena wanted to slap him and she would’ve if the bartender hadn’t come out with her order. She paid in cash.

“Well, I’ve gotta get back, have some leftover coupons to use.”

“Enjoy,” said Stefan.

“Right back at you.”

Elena left with her takeout and Stefan stayed at the bar for another thirty minutes before going back home.

As expected, as anticipated, Katherine was still on the bed in the exact same position, and he felt himself stiffen with the power of that. He hated her there. He relished her there.

“Right where you left me,” she said.

Stefan stared at her. What was he doing? What the fuck was he doing?

Katherine sighed dramatically.

“You just saw Elena. I can see her all over your beautiful tortured face.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. Katherine laughed. “You’re such an idiot. No, even worse, a fool. You’d shackle yourself to pain over pleasure because it makes you feel like a better person.”

Stefan looked at her sharply. “Elena is not pain. She’s never been pain. You don’t know a thing about how I feel about her.”

“But I know how you feel about me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Spare me, Katherine.”

“Does wanting me make you a bad person, Stefan, or does it just make you free and that’s what you’re fighting so hard against?”

He shook his head. “I know what you’re doing. This isn’t going to work.”

“Then I guess I’ll just go.”

He fixed her a gaze that made her squirm and she tested the look. She shifted slightly but before she could even move, he was kissing her.

He removed her restraints, keeping one belt, putting it around the nape of her neck, guiding her to him and she made fast work of his zipper, taking him in her mouth until he threw his head back, sobbing with pleasure. She pushed him back, rolling on top of him, grinding down, clenching around him, demanding his desire, and he reached up to grab her throat, to move his hand behind her neck and grab her hair.

Then he was behind her, belt replacing his hand around her throat, once again guiding her head backwards so she was looking up at him and he could ravish her mouth with his. He pinned her body to the bed with his, the belt now between her teeth that she bit down as he moved inside her, an unforgiving rhythm that made her claw at his back to try and lessen the intensity he was so expertly wracking her body with. Her nails made long, deep scratches that only spurred him on, deepening his strokes, burying himself in her, until she cried out, her body releasing and convulsing.

The minute she started to relax, he stimulated her again, his head between her thighs, and she let go much more quickly. She barely had time to crest the glow of her second orgasm before he made her come for him again and again. He allowed her no rest nor respite, just wave after wave of pleasure that ceased to stop or slow down until she bit the belt in half, tears of sheer gratification in her eyes, the stamina gifted to her by vampirism no match for a Stefan determined to possess her. She found her way on top again and held him hostage to her whims, rubbing against him to tease him with the promise of penetration,

using her mouth, her hands, to give pleasure and deny release again and again and again until he was wound tight with pent up desire, straining against nothing, physically begging for relief, his eyes pleading and frustrated, his body flushed with yearning, his voice breathy and desperate, his mind unable to form coherent sentences or words, until they were shaking and writhing together, the bed breaking beneath their vigor, the black sky out the window fading to a light blue streaked with pink clouds.

Katherine hadn’t seen Stefan in a week. After their Valentine’s Day, a marathon of a night that still made her ache whenever she thought of it, he’d disappeared from his bedroom and hadn’t been back to the mansion since. She stalked the Whitmore campus but saw no sign of him. He hadn’t returned any of her calls or texts and her impatience had crossed over into volatility.

“Katherine, what are you doing here?”

She walked into the Mystic Grill and sat at the bar. “I’m having a bad week and I need a … couple dozen drinks so I thought I’d visit my favourite blue-eyed bartender.”

Matt Donovan laughed. “Yeah, I’m gonna have to pass,” he said, wiping down the bar.

Katherine threw her hands up. “You can’t deny me service.”

“I do my best not to serve crazy vampires who hijack my friends’ bodies and compel me to feed them information.”

Katherine rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’re still mad about that?” she whined. “It was so long ago.”

Matt shook his head.

“Look, I make no excuses for what I did. I saw an opportunity and I took it because I’m a survivor, that’s who I am, just like you.”

“I am nothing like you, Katherine.”

“Maybe not as proactive but you are a survivor. You’ve been through a lot, Matty Blue Blue, nearly drowned, buried alive, run over by cars, stabbed, and yet you always manage to pull through. Like me.”

Matt regarded her, something like sympathy in his expression, and then poured her drink. She giggled, delighted. “You’re a saint.”

“See, the thing is, I don’t screw other people over by looking out for myself,” he said. “And what you did to Elena, that wasn’t about survival, that was about Stefan.”

“I will do whatever it takes to be around the people I love. Now, you can’t tell me you don’t understand that. You died for Elena’s humanity. Sure, you had the Gilbert ring but it’s the thought that counts. How many times have you been a shoulder for Caroline to cry on?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met an ex-boyfriend as understanding as you and I’ve been around for a very long time.”

Matt swallowed hard. “What’s your point?”

“My point, my point.” Katherine smiled up at him. “My point is that you should take a break and have consolation sex with me.”

Matt let out a noise in between derision and total shock.

“I’m being a hundred percent serious,” she said.

Matt started to splutter. “Katherine, that’s -- it’s -- that’s insane. No.”

“Why? Is it too weird? Because Elena looks like me?”

“I don’t see her as you or you as her.”

“Right answer, I’m cuter.”

“You think I don’t know that this is just about Stefan?” said Matt. “I know you’re back for him, OK? Everyone knows you’ve been seeing him.”

“You’re right. Stefan is being … difficult, which is as irritating as it is sexy, but two can play that game and I want to play this round with you.”

“Why?”

Katherine shrugged. “Why not? You’re sweet, you’re hot, you give me drinks.” Katherine finished the rest of her drink in one go and tapped her glass for another.

Matt laughed again. “Yeah, OK,” he said as he refilled.

Katherine tilted her head. “The women in this town underestimate you so much you don’t realize what a catch you are, but I’ve always been curious about what it would be like with you. You are delicious, Matty Blue, and I’m betting, a really good lay.”

Matt tried not to smile and Katherine grinned. She had him.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, I’m not even asking you to like me, but I’ll throw in a little bit of romance for you, appease those delicate sensibilities.”

He made a noncommittal noise and continued to wipe down the bar just for something to do.

“Oh come on, there are worse ways to spend your time than having an orgasm.”

“Flattered,” said Matt. “But no.”

“Alright, your loss.” Katherine picked up her drink. “And trust me, it’s a really big one.” She headed to a table, feeling his eyes on her.

Elena walked into the Grill flanked by Bonnie and Caroline.

“You sure you’re paying?” said Caroline.

“Yes, I insist,” said Elena. “You’re not at the dorm because Damon is, I’ve basically taken away your home and I feel terrible about it, the least I could do is treat you to lunch.”

“OK well thanks,” said Bonnie.

“Yes, very much appreciate the thought,” said Caroline. She looked around. “I thought Matt was working today.”

“Maybe he’s in the back.”

“Yeah, I guess. OK, well, I’ve gotta go to the bathroom.”

“You know, actually me too, I’ll go with you.”

Bonnie looked around at the empty tables. “I’ll grab us a table,” she said.

Caroline and Elena headed to the bathroom and when they opened the door, everything stopped. Matt. His shirt unbuttoned and open. Fervently kissing. Katherine. She had him up against the stall.

Elena gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, my eyes!”

They pulled away and Matt looked at them wide-eyed and shocked. “Oh, fuck.”

Caroline screamed. “MATT. What are you doing?”

“Shit.” Matt started buttoning up his shirt while Katherine leaned against the wall, unbothered. Suddenly, the door opened and Bonnie came rushing in.

“I heard screaming. What’s going on?” She looked from Matt haphazardly trying to do up his shirt to Katherine and back again. Seeing the tussled hair, the kiss-swollen lips, she shook her head. “Oh, Matt, please tell me you didn’t.”

Katherine rolled her eyes. “Well, he was about to before you all rudely interrupted us.”

“What did you do to him?” Bonnie demanded.

“Did you compel him?” said Elena. Like you did Stefan. “Because we all know that’s your move.”

“Something I have in common with your boyfriend,” said Katherine.

“Guys, honestly, it’s not a big deal, can you please just get out of here?”

Caroline was beside herself. “Not a big deal? Matt, it’s Katherine! It doesn’t get any lower!”

“You slept with Klaus after he killed Mrs. Lockwood!”

“And you slept with Rebekah who almost killed you.” She pointed to Elena. “And Elena!”

“Yeah, well, maybe I saw something in her the way that Elena saw something in Damon even after what he did to you, Care, and you Bonnie.”

Elena looked at him incredulously. “Really Matt?”

“I’m just saying, if there’s a trend, you’re the one who started it.”

Katherine laughed. “You all really need to start hanging out with new people, this is all so incestuous.”

“Shut up, Katherine,” said Elena. “It’s so obvious that you don’t actually care about Matt and you’re just using him because Stefan probably came to his senses and dumped your crazy ass.”

“You don’t see the irony here since all of you treat Matt like an afterthought?”

“We do not!” said Caroline.

“Yeah, you do!” said Matt. “And you know what, after years of dealing with it, I’m used to it but at least own up to it.”

He opened the door and stormed back into the dining room, Caroline, Elena and Bonnie in tow.

“What do you mean we treat you like an afterthought?”

Katherine meandered out afterwards and headed back to the bar to watch the show she’d put into motion.

“You want the list? Fine. A room full of vampires and none of you heard when Nadia came and took me? And then none of you even found me. Rebekah did!”

“How many times have I been choked by your boyfriend, attacked because one of you doesn’t have humanity. And we’re just expected to brush it off and look the other way again and again and it’s not like we can escape it, you suck us in every time!.”

“Matt--”

“I’m not the only one who feels this way. Bonnie, you know it’s true!”

Bonnie looked up from her phone. Caroline furrowed her eyebrows. “Who were you texting?”

“What is Matt talking about?” said Elena.

Bonnie shook her head. “This is not the time to talk about this.”

“This is exactly the time!” said Caroline.

“Look, I chose to be in the middle of all of this, that was my decision,” said Bonnie looking at Matt. “Matt knows that.”

“But you two still talk about…”

Caroline waited for Bonnie to fill in the blanks.

Bonnie sighed. “OK fine. Being involved with all of this wouldn’t have been my first choice and I can’t pretend that a big reason for me getting swept up in all of this is because I would’ve lost the two of you if I hadn’t.”

Elena and Caroline spoke at the same time.

“That’s not true!”

“What are you talking about?”

“When Grams died, I wanted to stay out but then I never saw you, Elena, you couldn’t talk to me about anything, and then Caroline turned into a vampire.”

“Thanks to Katherine,” said Elena.

Katherine smiled and waved. Elena was incensed.

“So what, you’re saying that all this time you’ve resented me? Resented us?”

“No,” said Bonnie. “That’s not what I--”

“Kind of sounds like that’s what you’re saying!”

“Let her finish!” said Matt.

Everyone started talking over each other, their voices getting steadily louder, and Katherine smiled as everything turned to indiscernible yelling. She drank and watched them point and shout and hold their heads in frustration or wounded surprise until the door banged open and everyone stopped talking.

Stefan strode inside, focused and furious, looking directly at Katherine across the room.

She smiled. “Oh, hi, honey, you’re home.”

Matt shifted his weight, looking over at Stefan nervously, and the fact that he looked scared that Stefan would take what he did as some sort of betrayal made Elena want to scream.

“How did you know where I was?”

“Bonnie texted.”

Katherine grinned at her. “Sneaky little witch aren’t you?”

When Stefan walked farther into The Grill, Matt shook his head, ready to either explain or apologize.

“Stefan, I didn’t ---”

He turned to him. “You’re smarter than this, Matt, she’ll tear right through you.”

“Oh, and he would love every minute of it.”

Stefan sped over to Katherine, took her by the wrist and pulled her outside, slamming against the wall of the restaurant.

“Messing with Matt is over the line.”

“You weren’t returning my calls and I had to, as you put it, amuse myself in your absence.”

“So, you manipulate the people I care about into fighting with each other?”

“I had to get your attention somehow, and look at that, you’re here. I don’t like being ignored, Stefan.”

Stefan shook his head, exasperated. “You psychotic bitch.”

“Oh, what’s going to happen now? Gearing up for another breakup when you and I both know you never stay away for more than a few hours, it’s clockwork.”

“Breakup? We’re not in a relationship, there are no feelings here, Katherine, unless you count the mourning of my self-respect.”

“Yet you keep coming back for more. I could drag you to the depths of hell and you would let me just for another taste.”

“Would you get over yourself? You didn’t invent sex, OK? Just because it’s good with you doesn’t mean it won’t be good somewhere else.”

Katherine raised her eyebrows. “Good?” she repeated. “Good? It’s a hell of a lot more than good.”

“I could have a hell of a lot more than good with someone else, I just can’t do that because if I looked at someone else, you’d destroy her fucking life, you’ve made yourself the only option for me.”

Katherine’s eyes flashed and then after a beat, she smiled. “You know what, go ahead. I’ll explore my options too. Matt still remains the best night I never had.”

I’ll make it my mission to correct that not that you’d give a shit, right?”

Stefan looked at her, his gaze inscrutable.

Caroline was at a table, glaring at Matt who decided to get back to work at the bar, Bonnie had her head on the table and Elena was pacing.

“She needs to go,” said Elena finally.

“Agreed,” said Caroline.

Bonnie lifted her head. “I’m working on it. It’s just taking longer than I thought. It was going faster when Stefan was helping me.”

Elena raised her eyebrows. “He stopped?”

“Well, he just hasn’t really been around lately. What do you think he and Katherine are talking about? You think they’re even still around?”

“Well, we can find out.”

Caroline and Elena honed into their listening. And then they heard it. The moaning, the sighing, the grunting. Caroline’s eyes widened.

“What is it?” said Bonnie. “What’s going on?”

She shot her a look and Bonnie caught on immediately. She turned to Elena who looked on the verge of a breakdown.

She cautioned her. “Elena…”

The moans were getting louder and louder in her ears and red had started to cloud Elena’s vision.

Caroline spoke. “Elena, don’t do it…”

Katherine panted Stefan’s name, Caroline could hear it which meant Elena could.

“Elena, just rel--”

Elena banged her fist on a table, splintering it apart, and then sped out of the Grill, Caroline speeding after.

“Elena, wait!”

“Shit.” Bonnie ran out after her. “Caroline, get her!”

#stelena #steferine #stefan salvatore #elena gilbert #the vampire diaries #dobsley #katherine pierce #stelena fanfiction #steferine fanfiction #fanfiction #tvd #tvd fanfiction #paul wesley #nina dobrev #stefan x elena #elena x stefan #katherine x stefan #stefan x katherine

80 notes · View notes

toiletwipes · 3 years ago

Text

and i'd give up forever to touch you

chapter twenty-six. tell me we both matter, don't we?

Summary: Wilbur only has a few days left, and yeah his music is now decent, but now he's got one more problem, his clothes. (Yeah, it's totally his clothes and not the issue of your very complicated relationship.)

ao3 link. ~3.4k words. masterlist.

***

for wilbur, he’d been panicking every day since he said yes to you once more.

playing onstage is very different from recording by yourself, studio or childhood bedroom. he’s never done it. it never occurred to him that it could, posting those songs online. it was all just to cope with his life and focus on something else besides the numbing in his head and body. something to do besides lay in bed and be left alone in his thoughts, day in and day out.

techno, ever the helpful person, had asked what he was going to wear and that itself brought up another topic to sweat his hands over.

he hadn’t even thought about his clothes! and after rummaging through his clothes, the stuff he wore daily and then the stuff he saved for special occasions— nothing was good enough for your concert.

“we can always go shopping,” his brother spoke from his bed, flipping through a beauty magazine with little interest in what wilbur’s panicking over now.

“shopping, yeah of course, except for the little problem called money, tech, i can’t just go and buy clothes-” and with that techno’s head lifts and tilts on his shoulders, giving him that blank stare.

“did you forget the part where i said ‘we’?” and wilbur didn’t exactly become sour at that, but he was considerably a little less stressed.

“okay then, well let's go now, get dressed.” will said as he swiped techno’s feet off his bed, snagging the sweater on his bed and shoving his head through it, not watching or listening to how techno started to grumble about how early it is, how they could go later but of course, wilbur isn’t going to listen to all that negative talk right now.

so that’s how they found themselves in the nearest shop, a little place called angelina’s with bright walls with checkered patterns, neon words lighting up the business as well as other weird little glowing creatures, plugged into the wall. with many sections only being sectioned by size, it’s popular for people with good taste, obviously. no wonder techno chose it.

they’re there thumbing through shirts and pants, with techno only showing will the silliest of options, including the biggest faux fur coat will’d ever seen, a pink button up with little lobsters and anchors, bright green jeans, and the never-ending collection of stilettos.

“will.” his mono voice never betrayed him, seeing as will was always caught off-guard by what he showed him. this time it’s another pair of stilettos, but covered in orange tufts of fur.

“you know you’re being real helpful right now,” will comments, trying his hardest not to smile because it was a real ‘what the fuck is that’ kind of moment. where in the fuck did his brother find those?

“the best help a brother can know,” his little smile with closed eyes, hair tangled and looking the worst bird-nest made by man. it was a sight to see.

he’d probably get the same amount of help if he asked his other brother for help, now that he’s thinking about it.

“okay, since you’re not actually taking my real, and very genuine, advice, i think you should call this person you’re obsessed with and talk clothes with them,” and though it would seem like a good idea based in good intentions, he waits for the other shoe to drop, “because right now, i’m just a lil’ bit hungry, and if you need more of my opinions, i’ll be over there.” and as he leaves he gives wilbur a clasp on the shoulder and heads to the bakery across the street.

he didn’t know what he’d expected. techno wasn’t that much help with his party outfit then, and considering it’s one of techno’s lazy days where he wasn’t needed professionally, his go-to outfit had been this puke green hoodie and sweats, and for some reason, his white platforms, the one that’s about four added inches in height. he’s not sure what the reason is, but he’s sure it’s to distract everyone from the mess on his head.

turning away from his brother, knowing he’s very capable on his own, he pulls his phone out, scrolling through the contacts list until it lands on your name. he presses on it, the call button staring him down.

he looks away, phone lowered to his side as he takes a quick glance around the shop. okay. what would be acceptable to wear on a stage for a performance he’s only going to be a part of for a moment? maybe white shirt, black pants, and whatever shoes he has on at that moment. that sounds… right.

still, he should call you and confirm that this is okay to do or think. shouldn’t he?

he really didn’t want to bother you, especially during these last few days they had left before the concert. and then of course, what would happen after that? he’d lose your number, at your request, and what then? move on with his life?

his chest ached at the thought of living a life without you in it. you’d been so important to him for a while, even when the two of you didn’t talk, you’d never really leave his mind.

but what else could he do besides move on? that’s what you’d do, move on. move on and start a new year at college. grow a little more, become so talented with music, fans would be swimming at your feet. fame would be around the corner, he knows it. but he has to leave and maybe one day, his existence in your life could be a funny story to tell at a bar.

even if he wanted nothing more than to stay in your life, he’d leave so you could get on with your life. you must be dying to close this chapter, dying for him to get out.

and as he lifts his phone, deciding to call you and figure out his outfit, your name appears on his screen, your face filling the space between. the shock makes him drop his phone.

he quickly picks it up and answers, “oh, hey, i was meaning to call you-” and that’s when he cuts himself off hearing a crash in the background, “what was that?” he asks immediately, “are you okay?”

your voice, it’s so shaky. “i- wilbur can you uh- oh i hate to ask you this but can you come pick me up?”

“text me the address, i’ll be there.” and he keeps you on the phone as he exits the store, crossing the street and hearing a car screech to a stop, he pats the hood of it before rushing to the other side, pushing his way inside of the bakery and finding techno at the bar, eating something akin to waffles before he reaches him. “hey, we gotta go,” techno’s eyes flash a little something he doesn’t understand but he wipes his mouth and calls for a to-go box. the waiter drops it off unceremoniously and techno all but stuffs the plate in there. he leaves a big tip where he was sitting and they rush out of there.

getting in techno’s car and telling him the address, his eyebrows furrow but he’s peeling out of the street, heading towards you as fast as he could.

“hey, are you still there?” he asks, feeling his fingers tremble so he rubs them out on his pants, wiping the clammy sweat as well. he hears you respond so quietly, it almost breaks them, “we’re almost there, just hang on.”

he almost snaps at techno to drive faster but considering they’re already going well-past the speed limit they’re lucky they haven’t been pulled over yet.

pulling to the side of the street, he looks over the property and finds it a mess. the yard is littered with trash and various furniture, those solo cups everywhere and if it wasn’t those cups, it was beer bottles. the typical party gone wrong. and he knew you weren’t a little saint but what were you doing here?

“hey i’m here, do you need me to go inside?” he doesn’t know why he said it, only that he did, and the little voice that begs him to is the reason he throws the car door open, rushing out of the car to the front door. “where are you?” he asks as he opens the door, looking around to find a bunch of people fighting and then there you’d been, hidden on the staircase as people kept throwing crap around and shouting.

he helps you up and walks with you outside, and if he’s being honest, not a single person noticed them leaving. but it didn’t matter, he tells himself, helping you into the backseat and sliding in next to you. you were drenched, wrapped in a blanket when he found you and he didn’t need to be a genius to see you were shivering.

he leaned to the front as techno made their exit, ignoring him as he turned the heater up. (“oh yeah, boil us alive, that’ll be good.”)

“just head to the college dorms,” he says, but he doesn’t hear it as he adjusts the fans above their heads to blow on you. your hair wet and sticking to your face, you try your hardest to not be obvious, but you didn’t hesitate to glue yourself to wilbur’s side.

“what happened?” he asks you quietly, watching you shudder out a sigh, eyes glancing around. “why were you there?”

“i- i don’t know, i just woke up there, in somebody else’s bed and i didn’t know if something had happened and then people just started to get angry- and i- i didn’t- i didn’t know i called you until i heard your voice.” he nods, but he’s still, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your shoulders. you needed comfort and you’ll probably remember it all, the unpleasant parts and all, later when you’re somewhere safe and where rosie could guard you from harm.

techno slows down as he enters the parking lot and wilbur guides him to your building, watching as you stopped shivering from the cold but you did continue to shake a little.

it had to have been terrifying for you. and if somebody did do something to you- he forces his arm around you to relax, as he had to remind himself you’re there with him now, safe.

he didn’t want to think about you getting hurt, didn’t want to think how this will affect you.

when techno parks, he tells him he’ll only take a few minutes, guiding you up the stairs and when it’s too much, the two of you sit on the stairs, doing some breathing exercises that techno had taught him. when you’re okay, he helps you up again, guiding you to your room where he takes the keys from your hand, and unlocks it for you.

you walk without him to your bathroom, a sliver of the door left open. like you didn’t want to be alone. a shower turns on. and because he didn’t want to feel so useless, he gets you some clothes, a sweater and some shorts, and tries to not think too deeply about the underwear when he pulls a pair out for you.

“will?” you call for him and he’s next to the door in an instant, eyes away from the opening to give you the space you need, but he’s there. “i think there’s towels in rosie’s room, can you-” you don’t even have to finish and he’s already going in. thank fuck that your roommate isn’t here at the moment, else this would’ve been awkward.

a second later, he hands you your clothes and towel, biting his inner cheek as he thinks about techno.

he didn’t want to leave you right now but it’s already been ten minutes.. a few minutes later, the water shuts off and a few minutes after that, you step out, somehow swallowed up in your clothes.

he doesn’t know what to do with himself. and when he’s about to offer a hug, you throw your arms around him, squeezing tight as your shoulders heave up and down. he didn’t hesitate to wrap you in his arms, squeezing you just as tight and buried his face into your wet hair.

"what happened?" he asks, wondering if any of it came back to you, but also very wary to ask after this, having no way of telling if you were hurt.

"i don't even know," you cried into his sweater, tears soaking into the fabric but he could care less, focusing on holding you and making sure you didn't unravel in his hands. "i remember getting there but nothing else, and then somebody was dunking people in the pool outside—" and you could hardly speak after that, so he just held you, reaching around for his phone and sent him a text the best he could.

'come back later.'

"and when i got back out they started getting angry and i couldn't- couldn't focus and then they started throwing things-" and that's where you stopped, letting him hold you was enough for now. and the both of you secretly hoped that rosie would be out for a while.

after a while, he guided you to your bed and tucked you in, and before he could stop himself, he asked, "do you want me to stay?"

he didn't expect you to say yes, even more surprised when you asked if he could stay in the room. he sat down next to the bed, where you could reach him if you needed him.

he closed his eyes, thinking back to the shop from earlier. he'd just been out with techno shopping for clothes for your concert and here he was, in your room as you tried to mellow out for now.

would there be a concert now? if something bad happened to you and you end up remembering, would you even want to go anywhere outside of your room?

he didn't want to think about it but while you slept, he had to be quiet and ready in case you needed him.

and speaking of which, he felt a hand touch his head and that's where he reached up with one of his own, holding your hand in his and holding tight. he never wants to let go now. (what'll happen after the concert? after he moves back home? you won't need him then, just for right now. and sure, his heart will break, but that doesn't matter right now. you do.)

time passes slowly, he doesn't know how long he stays there until rosie comes in, questioning looks galore but he just shakes his head. 'talk later.' he mouthed.

rosie's mouth flattened into a line, nodding before leaving, closing the door and leaving the room coated in a darkness. save for the little light that comes through the space between the blinds.

"will?"

he looks up and your grip hasn't changed, but you lean over the edge a little, face covered in an emotion he doesn't know.

"can you-" you breathe a little heavy before shutting your eyes closed, tight as you could, before opening them, "can you hold me for a little bit?" and he whispers his answer, standing up and kneeling onto your bed, shuffling around until you sit in between his legs and he holds you with your back to his chest. arms wrapped around your shoulders as you relaxed in his arms.

"i don't know what it is about your body wash but i swear it's like lavender," your voice cracks here and there while you talk, and he pretends it doesn't affect him in any way.

"must be magic, huh," he says, although kidding, you hum in agreement. and the two of you fall in silence, no talking, just the rise and falling of your chest and your stuttered breathing.

"can i ask you something, wilbur?" you're the first one to break the silence and he tells you you could ask him anything. he can't see your wobbly smile. "if i'd been more like rosie, would you have said yes if i asked you out?"

why are you asking him this? why that question?

why now?

"i-" what could he say?

"i was going to ask you out a few weeks after we met, one of those nights where we were alone in my car eating junk food, talking about music. but then i brought up rosie again, and like magic, you had this look in your eye, where you paid a little more attention to me because of her. i never ended up asking you out but it's the thought. you would've said yes if i was rosie, huh?" why were you asking this? why did you clutch at him a little harder when he didn't say anything?

"... i was a jerk back then, a complete jackass." he didn't know what answer you wanted, but when he said that, it almost felt like the wrong answer.

"it's because i wasn't rosie, isn't it? you can say yes." he hears it now.

you want him to admit he didn't like you then or maybe ever, because you weren't rosie.

he says your name quietly, he doesn't want you to hurt over this, he never should've put those cameras in your room. he should've never said yes because you mentioned rosie. shouldn't have, should've, words like those tend to repeat these days, don't they?

but your shoulders start shaking again. "it's okay, you can say it, you never liked me, you liked that i was an opening to her."

he shakes his head, maybe that was true in the beginning but- over time you were what he wanted, what he dreamed of at night. who he wanted to be an absolute freak over.

"i like you," he says your name again and this time he could almost feel how the words wash over you. "but you need a guy who won't make you doubt your worth." he can feel your head shaking in his arms. "you need somebody better, somebody who is right for you."

"i don't want somebody better, you idiot." he feels something drip onto his hands, his wrists. fuck, you shouldn't be crying over him, especially at a time like this. "i've wanted you from the get-go." and he can hear you sniffle, feel how you press your back into his chest more, how you grip at his forearms. "you ruined me for anybody else."

and there it was. the truth. he did ruin you, didn't he?

he didn't know if he could ever love anybody else besides you and here you sat, feeling the same fucking way.

he couldn't do this to you though. what if he fucked up? what if you decided you didn't like him anymore? the insane amount of what-if-questions floated around his brain and he didn't know what to say.

"it wouldn't be a healthy relationship." he says quietly. i want that for you. a normal, healthy relationship where somebody loved you for you. he couldn't be that for you, he knows that. he's fucked up and he can't give you that something.

the quiet voice in his head that sounded too much like yours piped in, telling him you didn't want that. you've said it so many times. but he can't do this to you.

"i don't care." and he shakes his head. "nothing about us is normal or healthy."

"you said it yourself, i've ruined you."

"i did say that, and i mean it. i can't love anybody else like i love you."

his heart breaks. breaks and breaks until it's no longer in pieces but in piles and piles of dust. he's ruined you, fucked you up. and you love him, against all that. how could you love him? how could you love something so ugly?

and that, he supposes, is what you'd ask him.

"you can't leave yet." you say, and you didn't have to hear yourself to know how pathetic it was to say that. you didn't know how you've lived without him before but it kills you every-time you have to, now that you've met.

"i- i won't."

and be it minutes or hours later, he didn't know, but you spoke up again. "i meant it, i love you, you know."

and he can't swallow, willing himself to contain the sobs begging to be released. he could only let the tears fall down his cheeks and into your hair. "i know."

your hands tug at his sleeves, "say it back. please." your voice cracks, even if it's barely above a whisper, your voice cracks like his heart.

he can't.

he can’t do that to you.

***

(if you do not have an age in your bio/if you’re a minor, i will not put you on the tag list)

tag list: @fxnxtical @ghostburlovebot @waterproofgravy @roygbivvie@boiled-onionrings @mayempress @comonlokbut2 @tiredofsatansbullshit @serendipityryn @facelessmatchstick @dogsandrocketsocks @unhelpfulghosty @struggling-with-time @spilltheearlgrey @dreamwvrld @despicablenotions @jubileelineee @the-icarus-thatneverflew @jessica89diangelo @fischlvonluftschloss @ninkieminjaj @savannahjade12088 @ghostwriteser

The tag list is currently open!!

#simpbur x reader #simpbur x you #simpbur x y/n #c: simpbur #simpbur #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot fic #c: wilbur soot #au: college #au: band

117 notes · View notes

kingkaisen · 4 years ago

Text

Social Media

Description: What it would be like if the Naruto characters had social media/internet in general

Warning: Minor NSFW mentions

A/N: Credit to the Naruto rp discord for some of these hcs (:

- Naruto Uzumaki -

Lord have MERCY

His phone is always cracked

Accidentally sends things all the time to the wrong person

Will “accidentally” send his crush suggestive photos and claim it wasn’t meant for them (;

Has super stupid usernames

“thef4tureh0kage12974294”

Says it’s because “thef4tureh0kage12974295” was taken

I’m sorry but he tries to make thirst traps on TikTok

Doesn’t end well

Sakura takes his phone away

He either responds in 2 seconds or 30 days there’s no in between

His spelling is AWFUL because he types so fast

Tried to send anon hate messages to the Akatsuki

Forgot to press the anon button

That’s what started the war 😏

He loves stupid, silly filters

Never keeps streaks because he forgets

Clicks on people’s stories 0.38 seconds after they post them and always slides up

He texts Kakashi CONSTANTLY and Kakashi always leaves him on read

Him and Sasuke send hate messages back and forth to each other

And he wouldn’t leave his bed for 2 days when he found out that Sasuke didn’t have his number saved to his phone

Has so many games on his phone and a whole bunch of stuff in general. Sakura goes through his phone to delete all the unnecessary stuff

Like the 57 photos he took to see if he had a scratch on his face because he didn’t feel like looking in the mirror

- Rock Lee -

This poor innocent baby

Believes that the porn ads are real

“BuT NEJI IT SAYS RIGHT HERE THAT A YOUNG SINGLE LADY WHO LIVES 3 MILES AWAY WANTS TO MEET ME”

“Lee, she isn’t real.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN? SHE’S RIGHT THERE AT THE TOP OF THE SCREEN? Why would the internet lie, neji”

Don’t follow him on social media

He is a spammer

Posts 24/7

Got several viruses because he believed the ads telling him that he needs to download some fishy software to delete a virus

Constantly comments under everyone’s pictures

Has a bunch of fitness apps

He’s the type of person to call you when you text them

His face covers 99% of the screen on facetime

Don’t wear headphones when talking to lee. He is loud. RIP HEADPHONE USERS.

Doesn’t understand slang/abbreviations and constantly googles it or gets it wrong

Texts Neji: “Listen! I know we have not spoken in a while and I hope you’re not still angry with me! Gai-Sensei is in the hospital, do you wanna come visit him with me, Neji? I’m dtf you 😔”

Of course Neji doesn’t know what it means either so he googles it

“Lee, do you have any idea what dtf means?”

“Yes Neji! It means down to forgive!”

Neji just leaves him on read.

Someone please put his phone on child safety or whatever it’s called

- Sasuke Uchiha -

Very popular on social media but has no posts

Leaves people on read on purpose

Probably gets a bunch of unsolicited nudes

Sends anon hate to Naruto but also stalks his accounts

Never calls back or answers phone calls

He literally sits and watches it ring

Taka gc Taka gc

Team 7 gc too before he left

Blocked Itachi on everything bc we don’t deal with the fake around here

He never saves anyone’s contacts

Doesn’t have a lot of social media if any tbh because he doesn’t associate himself with mere mortals bby please 😑✋🏽

Low key obsessed with candy crush

Naruto always sends him memes but he never responds

- Neji Hyuga -

Has a Pinterest

No cracks on his phone screen

Left the team Gai gc as soon as he was added

Lee added him back

He left again

And Lee added him back

Also returns text messages with a phone call

Definitely gets in arguments in comment sections about everything

He emails people

And when he can’t email, he sends text messages in email format

Watched one porn video by accident and his byakugan activated all on its own

Probably has like only 30 photos in his gallery

And no selfies

He only takes photos of nature, food, etc. or by accident

Plays the same game on his phone over and over and sucks ass

Has definitely accidentally called or FaceTimed someone

He’s like a cute grandpa who doesn’t know how to work phones and was wondering what all of those green buttons meant

Bonus: Orochimaru catfishes people

2K notes · View notes

theladyofbloodshed · 3 years ago

Note

This is the first time I’ve seen you write anything Tamlin and I’ve been following you for a long time. (Maybe I missed something). Anyway, what is your general opinion of him? Do you think his character deserves the hatred that it gets, even though Rhys and every other IC member is much worse?

It wasn’t to raise Tamlin up but merely to show that Cassian isn’t the world’s best dude either.

Lots of Tamlin’s issues stemmed from fear whereas Cassian is just so far up Rhys ass, he hasn’t seen daylight in 500 years.

Tamlin isn’t that bad to me. I don’t think the level of hatred is deserved but he’s not a saint. For me, rhys is much, much worse because everything he did was so calculated and he is not ruled by his emotions whereas Tamlin is.

Tamlin endured years of abuse from his father and brothers. He joined a war band to escape them. Then he endured amarantha hounding him. I did make a post before that if the genders were switched there’d be a lot more outrage over a male chasing after a woman for decades and basically demanding she sleep with him or everybody will suffer. He lost nearly all of his friends then felt guilty as hell to take Feyre because of how his family treated mortals. Then he watched everything happen to her UTM. The root of his behaviour, whilst still wrong, was fear. The fear manifested itself as paranoia.

Many times, Tamlin or Lucien warned Feyre off leaving the house due to danger e.g because of the naga or Calanmai and Feyre just straight up didn’t listen and got into danger every time. She was warned if she went UTM, she would be in danger. Tamlin locked her in the house because she would not listen to his warnings once again about danger and from his pov it was the only way to save her. Call it wrong, but it’s the same damn thing the ic did to Nesta only theirs was less about safety and more about control.

I firmly believe Rhys played into that paranoia too by not taking Feyre for like 3 months despite their deal which would have made Tamlin more on edge. Each time Feyre left the house meant she was exposed for Rhys to take her. Rhys knows him well, knows how to press his buttons.

Due to the POV, we only see Feyre’s side. We know that he has taken to sleeping at the bottom of the bed as a beast and is not sleeping properly. He is struggling too. Feyre has these arguments in her head about things but doesn’t speak to Tamlin about them then resents him later for not doing the things he had no clue she wanted.

From Tamlin’s pov too, he thinks she wanted the wedding. He’s watched Rhys abuse her for months then he gets a letter saying she’s not coming back from the night court even though she can’t read or write. Rhys killed his family. There’s a lot of bad blood between them so of course Tamlin is not going to believe the letter and try to save Feyre.

Fanon forgets all the stuff that happened before UTM. Feyre fell in love with him for a reason. He taught her new words by writing her poetry, they went to the pool of starlight, had a picnic together, he bought her paints, plays the fiddle while she dances. There were these little romantic gestures from a guy who wasn’t good at being with people that were far more genuine than “I’ve got loads of money so here’s a mansion Feyre darling”. Further, Tamlin got on his damn knees to beg Rhys not to hurt Feyre or tell amarantha and he still gave her “Clare’s” name because he’s a slimy bastard.

I don’t really need a Tamlin redemption arc (nor do I think he actually needs redemption rather than actual help) but it would be nice to get a couple of lines that he’s improved and is taking care of his court. At the end of the day, the spring court needs a leader and needs to rebuild.

I did write a lot of Tamlin in AU ACOSF because I felt like he’d been shafted so badly by retcons and I couldn’t stand Rhys still going there to gloat in canon.

#anon asks #long post

44 notes · View notes

obeiii-mee · 4 years ago

Note

Can I angst for Mammon where he is in a really bad mood and his brothers are at it again calling him names. And already ask them kindly to leave him alone but they keep at it. And Levi says something and it's the last straw. The air around them get cold for a moment as he slowly looks up and he flat out threatens them to shut up before he puts them back into there place with a really dark and threatening voice, before leaving. And the look could rival Satan's or even Lucifers glare.

I think Mammon takes the abuse of his brothers but sometimes he isn't in the mood and want a little peace and it is very very rare for him to get pissed

Like he's the kind of person who would yell when he's upset but when he's down right pissed it's like really fucking scary

People forget that as much as he lets his brothers push him around he is still the second oldest and is powerful so 😬

Brothers+ undateables reaction

Mammon snaps:

___________________

This is something I’ve mentioned in previous posts, but I basically second everything you said. I believe that Mammon dislikes getting into confrontations but isn’t by any means weak or stupid. He is the second eldest. However he is also, arguably, the one with the most self control out of them all. He has an overwhelming amount of patience when it comes to his siblings and I like to think he puts up with all of their insults because he loves them. Then again, it’s very possible for him to go berserk after years worth of build up.

Thanks for the request!!! I had a bit of trouble at first because I didn’t know how I was going to format it but I like the way it turned out so I hope you do too. Uhh also I reached my word limit writing this so I couldn’t include Simon, Luke and Solomon. I do plan on writing for them as well but at this point I’m just trying to get this done. Let me know if I made any grammatical errors! I double check my writing all the time but sometimes mistakes got over my head! The undateables are short because honestly I view the brothers as the ones who will suffer the most out of everyone. I hope you enjoy reading it anyway!!

•Characters: Lucifer, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphagour, Diavolo, Barbatos.

⚠️Warnings: Cursing, mentions of blood & gore and that’s about it.

___________________

For the past few months, Lord Diavolo’s pleasure of hosting parties and inviting people over had become more and more noticeable. It was pretty obvious that the Prince was lonely, isolating himself from others due to the responsibilities he has as the heir to the throne and a leader in the making. Attending his gatherings seemed like a down right chore for most of the brothers but you never had any problem tagging along. Besides, it felt nice knowing he seemed you worthy of coming to such important meetings. Your seven demons were, of course, also invited and per Lucifer’s orders, they all got cleaned up and dressed in fancy clothing to impress the regals prancing about the castle. Though the outfits themselves came with their own set of problems. Levi’s was way too tight; the collar seemed to annoy him more than anything else, judging by the patches of red skin on his neck. Satan accidentally ripped one of the buttons from his jacket off in a fit of rage earlier that day and was now silently fuming while poking his finger through the hole he made. Even Asmo spilled some water on his shirt before they arrived, ruining his pretty pink suit! Not to mention Beel was munching on his tie, having last eaten about 15 minutes beforehand. Lucifer pulled it out of his mouth and scowled at the saliva stains that were left behind. Safe to say they were all in a miserable mood to begin with.

“I expect all of you to behave in a respectable manner,” Lucifer flicked Belphie on the back of the head just as he began dozing off, making the youngest growl at him. He shot Mammon an irritated look “I’m especially talking to you Mammon. Don’t try to steal anything or I’ll cut your hands off.”

“I told ya big bro, ya don’t have to worry about me! I’ll be a golden child today! Promise!” Mammon held up his pinky as if he was committing to some kind of oath. The eldest darkened his glare and opened his mouth to say something else, but you interrupted in hopes of avoiding any bickering that might’ve followed.

“Look, there’s our table! Let’s go sit down. Lord Diavolo’s speech is going to start any minute now.”

Beel leaped at the table as soon as he sniffed out the appetisers, which were neatly arranged on the expensive tablecloth, shoving at least half of them in his mouth by the time the rest of you caught up with him. Having been seated, you quickly glanced around the room in hopes of spotting Diavolo. You bumped into Solomon and the angels before entering the castle, chit chatting with them for a while about the event. Even now, Luke was excitedly waving at you from across the room, using both of his arms. However, Lord Diavolo and Barbatos were the ones in charge of this party and you were yet to see either of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mammon eyeing the golden utensils laid out in front of him. Not the biggest of surprises really. Anytime Mammon sees something along the lines of gold, he can’t help but snatch it away. And there’s obviously so many valuables scattered all over the place, including the silverware that was proudly presented on every table. You sucked in a breath of anticipation when he reached for one of the spoons, only to exhale in relief when he placed it on the bridge of his nose, trying to balance it.

“MC, look at this!” He tapped your shoulder, as always wanting your full and undivided attention as he demonstrated his newfound skill. You giggled at his antics with fondness as he accidentally let the spoon drop with a clatter and a quiet ‘shit’ coming from him. Lucifer pulled on his ear, like a mother scolding her child and whisper-yelled at him to stop acting like an idiot. The only reason the oldest chose a sit right next to Mammon was to maintain order and peace. Basically, he did it for disciplinary reasons.

“I understand that being impertinent is your full-time job, Mammon but keep this up and I’ll throw you in Cerberus’ room. Let him do with you as he pleases.”

“Lucifer, it’s not a big deal-“

“Yeah, OK,” Mammon hissed, picking up the spoon from the recently polished floor with a slight grin that didn’t quiet reach his eyes “I gotcha. Can-“

“Speaking of Cerberus,” Levi suddenly piped in, no longer fussing about his collar or nervously twiddling with his thumbs because of the massive crowd of demons surrounding him “Didn’t you force me to walk him last week when it was your turn to do it?? I only agreed because you promised to buy me the newest Ruri-Chan limited edition body pillow that came out last Tuesday! And you never did! And now they’re out of stock, you scummy piece of-“

The third eldest would’ve leapt across the table and aimed for the throat if you hadn’t pressed a gentle hand against his chest, making him sit back down with a huff. People were starting to stare at the commotion coming from your table, turning heads and muttering between themselves. You were slowly dying from embarrassment by the way, since you guys definitely became the topic of conversation for the other guests. The brothers were being too noisy to even notice and Lucifer himself was too preoccupied to see the scene they were creating which made you further slouch down into your chair, silently hoping for the ground to swallow you whole. The night really wasn’t going as intended. You could hear Solomon laughing at the brothers’ antics from three tables down.

“I guess that’s Mammon for you,” Belphie yawned, barely raising his head from table “He lies everyday, all day. What exactly is new here? And that says something since it’s coming from me.”

“I apologised for that!” Mammon whined, referring to Levi’s accusation and choosing not to address Belphie’s insult “I was gonna buy it but then I realised I spent all my money earlier that week anyway so I couldn’t!”

“Perhaps that wouldn’t happen if you learned how to save the money you earn properly,” Satan muttered, sipping from his glass of whatever beverage he had snatched from the servants earlier “Not like you know how to earn money in any way besides stealing it.”

You watch as Mammon clenched his fist “Can we please just move on-“

“I can’t believe that I was cursed with this moron for a brother,” Asmo sighed, almost theatrically, as if he was performing. And, in a way, he was. People were getting really interested in the drama unfolding over there. It was making you even more anxious, all those eyes staring at you. The Avatar of Lust was leaning so much on his chair, you were sure he was going to topple over and at this point, you kinda hoped he would. Anything to stop this momentum of hatred aimed at Mammon “You’re always getting us in trouble, you know. Hmph, we can’t go anywhere with you Mammon! You always end up ruining it for us! With your stupid schemes and-“

“I’m hungry-“

“Not now, Beel!”

“Cutting him up into tiny pieces for the witches will always be an option,” Lucifer chimed in, smiling at the thought.

Mammon snapped his head upwards at that. It was such an abrupt reaction, it made you jolt a little in your seat. You couldn’t miss the tension radiating from him, how quickly his body stiffened and exactly how hard his hands were gripping the edge of the table. His brothers were still paying him no mind, blaming him for this and that under their breath or being silently judgemental in Lucifer’s case. You worried for him because Mammon rarely acted like this; feral, in a way. Just so you know, he definitely noticed it. The look of concern plastered all over your face. That’s the only reason he released the table from his vice-like grip and slouched back against his chair. Satan went quiet and was staring at Mammon in bewilderment.

He disliked the idea of you watching him lose control of himself. He was your guardian. Your first pact. It’s important to him that your relationship is build around a pillar of trust. And he can’t even expect you to trust him if he exposes you to his demon form every time something inconveniences him. Mammon would rather cease to exit than have you fear him. So he kept his breathing regulated as the fog cleared his mind. The Avatar of Greed isn’t an angry demon. Snuffing out the the flame of rage he had fanned up until then was relatively easy. He just needed to get through tonight, then he could go home and complain to you about it once he got out of his brothers’ earshot.

“Why does he get to spend so much time with MC anyway? He’d probably sell them for a few Grimm any time of the day, wouldn’t he? It’s so fucking unfair. He won’t change no matter what so why risk MC’s safety? I will summon Lotan on him if he starts getting on my nerves.”

It would be an understatement to say that those words rubbed Mammon the wrong way, judging by the lack of immediate response. It was unexpected for him keep his mouth shut at a time like this. What was even more unexpected was the abrupt, delayed reaction he had a few seconds afterwards, resulting in his chair being flung back about 5 feet in that general direction. The seemingly deafening thud it made when it collided with the floor echoed around the dining hall, bouncing off walls and whacking people over the heads with the aggression behind it. A moment of pure, indescribably loud silence filled the crowded space as everyone else stared in shock at their brother, mouths agape and eyes bulging out of their sockets. Mammon would’ve laughed at their faces if it weren’t for the circumstances leading up to that point.

“What gives any of you the right to treat me like some sort of punching bag?” Mammon drawled, accentuating his obviously superior nature to almost every single demon at that table. He laughed, in an oddly half hearted way, before his sea struck gaze landed back to his siblings “Do not try to push me into a corner, because I will not handle it well. You’ve been having a field day with me for centuries now and I’m starting to get really ticked off, ya know? But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’ve done everything in my power to keep MC alive for the past few months and y’all are acting as if I’m out here playing with their life. Complain about me all you want. But...” He thumped the table, loud enough to make all the noblemen in the room flinch.

“Don’t you dare insinuate that I would ever put MC in danger, willingly or not because I will rip out your insides and paint the walls of this palace with them while hanging your intestines from these chandeliers. I will pluck your hairs out one by one, then your nails, then your eyeballs and then your teeth. You’re the ones that have put MC in danger’s way time and time again in the past few weeks, and you’re out here trying to suggest that I would even think about hurting them? Unlike every single one of you, who almost killed my human-you’re lucky I don’t have your fucking heads.”

He smashed his fist into the table again, using even more of his strength this time and effectively breaking the whole thing, the wooden legs giving out and shattering into thousands of splinters. Mammon spoke again, his voice lowering “MC forgave you. I didn’t. And I have no reason to. Not with how you’ve been treating me.”Once he spit that out, Mammon turned on his heel and left, slamming the door shut behind him hard enough to shake the whole building, leaving his siblings in dazed awe.

......

Even more silence. For some reason, all of the brothers at the now broken table ended up looking your way, silently questioning what they should do. It often ended up like this

You gave them all an unimpressed stare and a half-assed shrug “Don’t look at me. You guys fucked up.” Before sliding out of your seat and following Mammon out of the castle, sending an apologetic smile to Diavolo on your way out. Hopefully, you could manage to calm him down before everyone else gets home otherwise this might drag on for a while.

Lucifer:

-In all honesty, he probably saw the signs from a mile away and still decided to ignore them

-Maybe because he believed they weren’t being all that harsh on him, even if in Mammon’s eyes they were

-‘Harsh’ in Lucifer’s vocabulary usually means being hanged upside down from a ceiling or publicly executed, not a couple of mere insults

-Not to mention the eldest had always been horrible at communicating with his brothers when it came to emotions

-Despite Mammon clearly suffering from the treatment he received from his brothers, Lucifer refuses to believe he’s the root of the problem

-As the Avatar of Pride, he always had a hard time realising that all those words and the constant teasing, which he deemed to be pretty harmless, scarred Mammon a lot more than expected

-Once he actually comes to that conclusion, and after getting over the initial shock, Lucifer would probably feel the guiltiest out of them all

-Being the eldest means he carries quite a few burdens on his shoulders as most responsibilities fall on him due to his prideful nature

-He would blame himself for Mammon’s outburst simply because he’s the older brother and he should’ve known better, not just because he sees how a big of a role he played in all of this

-Usually, if his brothers do something bad, then he’s there to fix it within hours, that’s how it always worked

-Except he doesn’t know how to fix this exactly

-The problem is he has no idea how to approach Mammon after that sudden meltdown and he has no idea how to talk it out with him because he sucks at expressing himself verbally

-And since this took place in a public space, Lord Diavolo’s Palace no less, he felt really conflicted on what should have been done at that moment in time

-There was a lot of frustration, embarrassment and confusion in him for a good five minutes after Mammon slammed that door shut behind him and even after he gathered his thoughts together, he was still in shock for the rest of the night

-In any case, the whole event was promptly cancelled and everyone ended up going home earlier than expected, after Lucifer apologised to Diavolo about the spectacle they created (several times)

-When they finally get home, he decided to give Mammon his space instead of trying to knock at his door and instead went back to his room

-He knows they will need to solve this matter soon but there’s no way Mammon will want to see, let alone talk, to any of them just yet

-He’s sort of hoping he can apologise best he can next morning at breakfast, cross his fingers and wish for the best but judging by the venom that laced Mammon’s voice the night before, it’s not likely he will forgive any of them that easily.

Levi:

-If I were to guess, he saw the ending credits of his life flash before his very eyes as soon as those words left his mouth

-Levi felt a panic in him like never before, not even while playing his engaging horror visual novels at 3am in complete darkness or that one time he used Lucifer’s credit card to buy merch before being found out

-Must’ve forgotten his brother technically ranks higher than him on the power scale for a second there

-Or maybe he didn’t think his insults were going to affect him much

-They usually don’t

-Or at least that’s the impression he’s been under for a while now

-Mammon doesn’t snap easily under pressure but Levi must’ve really hit a nerve there that night

-While everyone was sitting in a short silence after Mammon left the building, he started twiddling with his fingers again the more he thought about it

-Because now he went from nervous to fucking terrified of what the hell was waiting for him when he finally got home

-He does feel guilty, nowhere near as much guilt as Lucifer feels but still pure shame

-However most of that guilt is swallowed by a steady fear and the constant worry of ‘how do I stop my brother from killing me?’

-Unlike Lucifer, I honestly don’t see him taking any sort of initiative when it comes to apologising to Mammon

-Not even because he doesn’t want to, but he would freeze up if he were to come face to face with him after that incident and then scamper back to his room like a rat in hiding

-So without your help, it’s likely the two won’t be speaking to each very soon which can honestly make life at the House of Lamentation so much more miserable

-In the end, if either you or Lucifer forced him to, he would say sorry by selling some of his merch and then giving him the profits (in secret but we all know it’s him)

-That is a big sacrifice on Levi’s part considering how precious his merchandise is to him

-But the idea that he’s gonna get murdered in his sleep by his older brother was getting a tad too real

-Besides, Mammon is still his brother and if he has to sell a couple of items in order to make him less mad, he would do it, albeit with a bit of grumbling

-Despite that, Mammon still refuses to come out of his room and sort of relies on you to bring him food because he doesn’t want to see his brothers

-Levi and Mammon would probably have to rebuild a lot of their relationship after this but it could easily take months for that to happen since Levi is too terrified to look him in the eye and Mammon is too upset to even hear his voice

Satan:

-He wouldn’t be the Avatar of Wrath if he couldn’t spot the anger within someone from a mile away

-He’s always been able to recognise the fury building up inside of him so for Satan it’s second nature to just know when someone’s on the brink of snapping

-It’s no surprise to say that he probably noticed Mammon’s wrath spilling out before anyone else did

-But alas, he realised it too late

-If he had reacted quicker, maybe he would’ve been able to diffuse Mammon before he exploded on them. Or not

-It’s difficult to tell if he could’ve actually helped because who was he to tell Mammon to calm down??? If anyone told him that while he was throwing a fit, he would probably break their necks-

-In the end, he just pressed his lips into a straight line and watched his brother throw his chair across the room

-Not gonna lie, he found it a bit entertaining purely because of the look on Lucifer’s face

-Satan had to try really hard not to crack a smile because he knew Mammon would probably smash a glass against his head or something

-Even so, he was the first to stand up and offer to go after him, though he wasn’t sure he could do much consoling

-Being so experienced with anger meant that he knew Mammon had built himself into a rage that he won’t be able to escape out of too easily

-Which is why he advises Lucifer to give Mammon his space once they get home

-Overall, the most understanding out of all of the brothers

-At this point in time, probably the least judgemental out of everyone and once Mammon comes out of his room for the first time in a while, either him or Beel is going to apologise to him first

-He may push and push him alongside the rest of his siblings but I feel like Satan doesn’t want to reach a certain low, like cornering Mammon into the frenzy he had that day ever again

-He might get pissy with him if he’s being too stubborn to forgive anyone after coming down from his intrusive thoughts

-And he really hates that Mammon had to remind them about all the times you had nearly died because of them, because he knows they won’t be able to make it up to you so why is Mammon upset about this????

-But he will try to maintain respect for his older brother from then on

-Even if the sharpest of remarks is on the top of his tongue!

Asmo:

-Asmo is the type to laugh it off and then start feeling really upset about it later on, the longer he thinks about the whole thing

-After Mammon storms out, he just assumes it’s another one of those ‘Mammon’ things and tried to brush the feeling of unease off him

-Even so, later that night the memory of Mammon kept coming back to him while he laid in his bed, unable to have a nice rest for the first time in how long? He’s always been really strict about his sleeping schedules after all

-Asmo’s observant, almost on par with Satan himself when it comes down to it. He definitely saw the gleam of anger, pent up frustration and hatred in his brothers’ eyes that moment and it legitimately scared him, even if it was for just half a second

-Honestly, he begins neglecting himself out of anticipation and worry which is a huge red flag for the Avatar of Lust who always holds himself at such a superior level compared to everyone else

-It may start out slow, but it has the same effect as a snowball rolling down the hill. It becomes more of a problem the longer it’s ignored

-Because he spends most of his days now debating whether he should try to coax his brother into coming out of his room and apologising to him, he forgets about himself

-Skincare routines are missed, pedicure appointments have been cancelled; hell, if Mammon’s keeps being stubborn, he may let his hair become absolutely filthy

-Asmo sort of relies on his brothers to provide the living environment he revolves around. If something is off with his brothers, he can not work properly either because it doesn’t feel right to do so

-Imagine a machine not working anymore because one of the clogs in it got stuck

-I can see Asmo feeling a decent amount of guilt when it comes to the situation but he still blames Levi for completely pushing him over the edge at dinner

-So now those two aren’t talking (it’s honestly so exhausting since they’re shoving the blame onto each other without stop)

-If Mammon decides to come out and hear them out, Asmo might get on his knees and beg because that guilt bubbling up inside of him may end up being his demise

-No seriously, MC might need to keep an eye out on him too while comforting Mammon because whatever he is doing isn’t healthy

-Takes Mammon’s outburst pretty badly and tries apologising to him many times but the second eldest still hasn’t said a word to any of them

-And that’s driving him into a fucking swirl of insanity at this point

-Of course, much like Mammon’s mental breakdown, this builds up over time but the result can be devasting

-If you pass by his room at night, you could probably hear him sob about how his brother hates him and it’s really heartbreaking to hear pained cries like that coming from such an overly confident demon like Asmo

Beel:

-Literally the only one here that doesn’t dish out insults onto Mammon every hour of the day

-He joins in very rarely and even when he does, it’s usually in good nature rather than malice

-Unless food is involved. Feelings (and Mammon) might be hurt if that’s the case

-Beel wasn’t listening to his siblings as they were diminishing Mammon, he was way too hungry to comprehend what the hell they were on about

-So he just started wolfing down appetisers until he noticed you looking all weary

-That’s the first thing that put him on alert

-And then the second born’s aura was also...off putting

-Might’ve actually tried to nudge Belphie to stop him from saying anything offensive to Mammon in this state when he realised how tense the atmosphere got

-Flinched when his brother left the palace, almost cracking the whole doorway on his way out

-Hunger is all but gone and at this point he wants to go home to check up on him

-Beel is a bit of a softie and he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot of the times

-He never did anything particularly bad to Mammon, not on the same scale his brothers did certainly and yet he still felt extremely bad

-Perhaps because he didn’t step in as much as he should’ve...?

-Either way, when his loved ones suffer, he has a tendency of putting the blame on himself because he feels it’s the only logical answer

-Honestly, he feels guilty enough to the point where it’s affecting his eating habits-which is obviously not normal for the Avatar of Gluttony

-Beel knows Mammon doesn’t want to talk to him but he still brings him food and leaves it at the doorstep of his room since he doesn’t want to come out and have dinner with them

-Or he relies on you to give it to him

-The thought of Mammon being so mad at them that he doesn’t even want to eat makes him feel so vulnerable

-As soon as he sees him for the first time since that night, he will probably be the first to apologise, even if Mammon isn’t in the mood to hear apologies

-Again, he’s trying to use food to make up to him (bringing him his favourites and paying for them)

-Even if he gets ignored, he’s still going to do it

-Beel is trying his best to say sorry to his older brother the only way he knows how to do so, but Mammon still doesn’t give in

Belphie:

-Could’ve been asleep the whole time Mammon was thrashing about

-Or at least that’s what it looked like to the average passer-by

-Kept one eye open to watch as Mammon finally snapped under pressure, having to raise his head once his brother broke the whole god damned table

-“OK, alright, storm off I guess-I have a splinter now-“

-Don’t trust that sarcastic commentary, he’s in deep thought on the inside

-Maybe he should’ve expected this but then again, he never would’ve guessed Mammon had it in him to be so aggressive

-Will narrow his eyes at him when he talks your death and scowl

-As if he didn’t already feel like the world’s biggest piece of shit, he had to bring that up

-As soon as he leaves, he turns to Lucifer and goes “See what you did? You broke Mammon. You suck, Lucifer.”

-The shifting of blame suits Belphie really well (it takes Beel side glancing him to get him to shut up)

-The Avatar of Sloth is too tired to even try to communicate with his brother so he goes straight to bed after getting home

-However, he actually visits Mammon’s dreams that night

-Or at least tries to, if Mammon is getting any sleep after that showdown

-It’s his way of checking in with his brother, helps him evaluate the situation

- Whether that works or not, there was definitely an attempt that required a lot of effort and you don’t see that very often with Belphagour

-It really demonstrates how much he actually cares for his family, even if he hides behind snide remarks and the likes of it

-However, if Mammon refuses communication, then he can’t do anything but give up

-He clearly won’t be able to convince him to step aside for a chit chat and why waste energy trying to force him to do so

-When the time comes, Belphie knows his brother will willingly talk to him (or at least someone else because he knows he’s not any good at comfort or apologies)

-At the same time, a lot of the things Mammon said during that party rubbed him the wrong way and seeing his twin suffer because of it is also pissing him off so patience may be running thin with Belphie

-Like Levi, there may be a lot of ice between the two from then onwards so it won’t be easy for them to find the middle ground in this whole argument either

-It could lead to a strained relationship if no one intervenes or even a physical fight if the youngest pushes all of Mammon’s buttons properly

Diavolo:

-The Future King feels guilty too, for some reason

-He is clearly not involved but he’s under the impression his party was a catalyst of sorts to the fight that broke out that night

-Diavolo wasn’t even in the same room when it happened-he heard shouting and growling from next door whilst talking to a noble about future arrangements in DevilDom and rushed in

-The sight was something to behold really; Mammon cornering all of his brothers and threatening them with pure venom in his voice wasn’t something you saw everyday

-More often than not, it was the other way around so the Prince had every right to be concerned

-He tried asking Lucifer what was going on after the second eldest slammed the door shut behind him and left but to no avail; the Avatar of Pride was in a state of shock and the only thing he did was apologise to him about a million times before his departure with the rest of his siblings

-Despite his worry, Diavolo tried not to get involved in the aftermath either, believing it’s not his place to interfere and hoping they would solve it out amongst themselves

-He did give Mammon permission to miss RAD classes for that week, thinking a small break is what he needed most

-Even drops by every now and then to check up on him (he just asks you how he’s holding up because he doesn’t want to pry)

-He can’t do much but watch from the sidelines, I mean this is a family dispute so it would be wise to just give them all a bit of space

-If it drags on for too long, however, he will be forced to do something because the brothers are all distracted and can’t get on with their student council work because of it

-Lucifer is even more stressed than usual and can’t even focus during their meetings so for the sake of his friend, if nothing gets resolved quickly, he will intervene and it won’t be pretty

-For now, he’s counting on you to make sure there are no further incidents but it’s unlikely you can stop a train once it’s set in motion so just hope Mammon doesn’t come out of his room until he’s calmed down

Barbatos:

-The butler is a Time Lord so it’s probably no surprise to find out he already knew this was going to happen eventually

-Not like he believed Mammon was going to take his brothers’ insults for much longer anyway

-Being the quiet and observant demon he is, he’s been keeping a close eye on the Avatar of Greed knowing damn well he was going to lose his patience soon enough and go on the offence

-If he knew this was going to happen at such an important moment in time, he would’ve warned his majesty beforehand but he failed to see the potential catastrophe awaiting his breakdown

-Again, he has no right to intervene

-Unless, of course, Lord Diavolo asks him to do so but really the most he can do is give you tips on how to deal with miserable demons

-I mean, you’re the one that’s going to be stuck with them for the rest of the year and this isn’t the type of conflict that gets resolved too easily

-Barbatos is clever so if there is still bitterness between Mammon and his siblings after an amount of time passed, he might try to change timelines (with the permission of Diavolo)

-He’s had enough of Beel coming over to eat his cakes and cry about his older brother hating him (believe it or not, the butler is definitely a bit fond of the sixth eldest so his cries did pull at his heartstrings)

-Basically, in the same position as the Prince

-He relies on you to get them all to make up but he knows it’s not likely to happen any time soon

-For now, he’s getting ready for the chain reaction this fight set in motion because there was no easy way to end this, considering they’re all vicious demons and all

—————————————————————-

Al~ im mad I couldn’t add Simon, Luke and Solomon-I want to write for them too >:(

1K notes · View notes