#oldest of four and not in the slightest

[myladysapphire]

My sweet pathetic prince

Jace had always had a pathetic obsession with is aunt, but she was never afraid to show her dislike for him and his heritage, even when his head was between her thighs.

based of this request

Jacaerys Veleryon x Aunt!reader

Word count: 3,562

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, oral (f reciving), p in v, unrequited love? slight bullying? bastardphobia, pathetic jace, sub jace, dom reader, brat reader, slow(ish) burn, angst, teasing, self deprication?, degrigation, virgin!jace, incest. not proofread!

authors note: may be out of the groove of writing for house of the dragon but hope you enjoy!

Divders by @zaldritzosrose

For as long as he could remember Jaceaerys Veleryon had pinned after one person. You.

You, someone who had never shown the slightest interest in him. Someone who ignored him at every turned or if you ever did it acknowledge him, it was in the form of scowls and insults.

You had never thought much of him. He has always been your silly little annoying shadow. Following you around the castle, begging you for attention, and ding anything he could to make you impressed or the slightest bit interested in him.

You never where, only ever annoyed or finding ways ignore him further.

You had never much considered giving him any attention, believing he didn’t deserve it. Your mother had made you think as much, installing in your head that Jace’s infatuation with you was a plot set about by Rhaenyra to win you over to her side and betray your family. That he and his brothers were bastards, unworthy of the title princes and unworthy of any attention they begged for from you.

As they years went on and Jace’s crush became infatuation, ignoring him no longer became a choice and instead you started to treat him the way your mother always wished, with nothing but disdain.

But despite the scowling eyes, the cruel words and the constant use of the word ‘strong’ around him, it all seemed to have the opposite of the desired effect that you so desperately craved.

Jace grown more and more enamoured with you, with each insult or taunt. With every time you pushed him into the mud, or stole his clothes and left him to run bare through the halls of the keep, after you convinced him to swim in the lake. With every childish prank you played that would make others cry and scream, he seemed to care little, finding them funny or often not thinking it was you at all. With Aemond often being left to face the blame, the ‘prank’ with the pig was near evidence enough of that.

And yet you, A girl, four years his senior, ill mannered and prone to tantrums, especially when you didn’t get your way. Something that seemed to worsen the more Jace’s pathetic Crush grew on you.

With every insult you spat from your pretty mouth Jace seemed to adore you even more.

Every word out of your mouth he worshipped, he was always the first to comfort you, when you grew angered at the smallest inconvenience, always egar to help out in anyway, and more than happy to take your lashing words.

In truth he mustn’t have heard the words the same as you did.

The cruel insults must have sounded like sweet nothings to him.

It was pathetic, he was pathetic.

And you, well you were a spoiled brat, a princess in every sense of the word. A princess who knew the world was at the tip of your finger.

Perhas it was the fact that you were Alicents oldest child, or the only one of her children that Viserys seemed to acknowledge if not love. But in truth it was Jace that made you that way.

By saying yes to your every order and command, for giving you gifts of jewels, flowers and of your favourite things that only he seemed to know of.

Your entire youth seemed to revolve around him whether you liked it or not.

So much so that when he moved to Dragonstone you found yourself longing for him, whether it was to throw insults and have him grovel at your feet, or perhaps it was the fact that he seemed to be the only one who wanted to truly know you. Or that seemed to know you at all.

Memories of him seemed to haunt you as the years passed, his letters became ones you waited on, even though you would never admit it.

Nor would you admit that you replied and that as time passed your words grew less cruel and started to instead come from the heart.

In fact as the years passed you changed, gone from the favourite to the scorned child.

The eldest and yet looked over, called Rhaneyra by your father and pushed to the sidelines.

With Aegon’s marriage to Heleana, Aemond’s betrothal to Floris Baratheon and the rumours of Daeron’s own betrothal in the works. You began to grow restless and became more and more of what the court already called you, a brat.

Your restless behavior, the eagerness to be afforded the same opportunities as your siblings spun you on, the want to force an outcome driving you even more so when you learnt of your half-sister’s arrival.

“Lord strong” you spoke in greeting, at the sight of Jace. Dressed in a gown of green, embroider with lace and a sweeping neckline, that was just deep enough to show of the top of your breasts.

Jace’s eyes quickly drew up from the book upon his lap, his eyes going straight towards your breasts. A deep blush rising to his cheeks “Princess” he greeted, rushing to his feet so fast he nearly stumbled over. Ignoring the choice of name you gave him.

You laughed at the sight of him, his cheeks flushed red, and eyes following you dreamily as you started to move through the gardens.

“i- how are you?” he stuttered his words, chasing after you.

“how am i?” you repeated, the words said in a teasing manner, “I am perfectly fine…” you spoke as you plucked a rose form a near by bush.

“fine?” he spoke, finally catching up you, “Good, so am I -…how about your day? What have you been up to? my days has been rather busy, but perhaps I- we could-…” he stumbled over his words, nervously following you around the garden.

“we could?” you urged him on, forgetting how fun it was to taunt him.

“we could have dinner” he rushed out, finally falling into place beside you.

“dinner?” you spoke, as if tasting the word on your tongue, “and here I thought you would invite me to lunch”

“Then lunch…yes lunch” he rushed out even more quickly, eagerly lacing his arm with yours.

“oh but you must be so busy…you said so yourself and having just arrived I’m sure you have much to do”  you spoke, easing your arm out of his in favour of picking more flowers.

 “I can make time…for you” he spoke, as he reached out and grabbed his own rose and tucked it behind your ear.

You huffed a laugh, attempting to cover the slight blush rising in your cheeks, “fine” you agreed, making no more effort to speak as you contented your walk through the gardens. Jace on your tail and endless questions falling from his lips.

“how have you been?” Jace asked, pulling out your chair for you to sit.

You huffed, looking over to your far to egar nephew, a smirk pulling at your lips as you watched him nervously play with the buttons on his tunic.

“haven’t we been over this already” you spoke, before ordering a maid to bring out food.

“yes” he spoke, straightening his back, “I- it has been so long…you have changed”

You huffed once more, “so have you”

“no…I mean last time I was here you would have torn the book from my hand and thrown it into the hedges and demanded I fetch it.” He joked, his voice steadying itself, his nerves slowly evaporating.

“true” you nodded, reaching for the food placed in front of you, “perhaps my days of such things are behind me” they weren’t, but you remained calm, instead focusing on the fact that Jace had suddenly gone from the boy you always knew him to be, to suddenly having the confidence to jest about what you would so easily had done had your mother not given you a lecture about tantrums just days prior, and your stubborn self was egar to prove her otherwise.

Though his eyes were no longer fixed on you, his cheeks no longer flushed.

His eyes were instead fixed on someone else, someone you had met once before, at Driftmark.

Driftmark had marked a significant change in your life.

You had gone to mourn the loss of a cousin you had never met and watched as Aegon moaned about marrying Heleana, and Heleana mourned the loss freedom.

You yourself felt scorned, not that you wished to marry Aegon or were unhappy with your mothers blatant refusal at Rhaenrya’s request of a union between yourself and  Jace.

But instead at the fact that that day you we’re entirely ignored, your future looked over and you became nothing but a ploy, a bullet point in a plot set forth by your grandsire.

That day you had turned sixteen, a woman grown and older that both your mother and half-sister had been upon there own weddings. You instead celebrated the day with mourning, both a cousin and the loss of your brothers eye, in a fight you got the blame for.

The words ringed in your head even to this day, the blame placed on you and the scornful gazes you received from your father a man who hence forth became simply the king.

“who spoke these lies to you” the king had demanded, his voice dripping venom.

Aemond spoke your name his yes dropping with guilt as he looked at your tired face.

Having been roused from your bed and playing no part in whatever transpired you were confused and half drunk from drinking with Aegon before being ceremonially thrown in bed by your grandsire.

“me?” you mumbled confused your eyes darting to were Jace stood before you,

“and you, girl?” the king sneered his gaze turning to you “Where did you hear such calumnies?”

You looked to Aemond in shock and confusion, your mind blank as to what you should say.

Your father looked at you again, his face filled with rage and anger as he yelled your name “Tell me the truth of it!”

Looking around the room you saw everyone eyes where on you, some faces egging you on waiting for you to say the truth, others where angered, some were begging for you not to say what others wanted you too.

You looked down as you spoke “we know, father” you spoke, now looking up and gazing towards where Jace stood, his face shocked and angered, “just look at them”

The king sneered at you, his face red and angered at your words, as if what you where saying wasn’t the truth.

“This interminable infighting must cease!” he shouted, “All of you!...We are family!” he spoke, looking between you the clear division in your family. With you and your siblings stood to one side, and Rhaenyra and her children to the other, “Now make your apologies and show good will to one another…Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!”

After that day everything changed.

No longer were you the favoured child, you were now scorned and thrown to the side.

And though you hadn’t seen your nephews and half sister in near six years, the repercussions from that night seemed to haunt you.

Aemond looked at you as if you had taken his eye and your mother, though had commended you for defending your brother and herself and too pushed you aside. As if your uttering her words had caused the entire conflict.

And now they were back, and though you hated to admit it, you had been waiting for this day.

“Baela, is it?” you said speaking calmly, as she approached you and Jace.

She looked you up and down, a smirk on her lips and she looked at you.

Taking the seat beside Jace, her hand moving to grasp his in hers.

“princess” she greeted in kind, “I hadn’t expected to and Jace to be so…friendly” she spoke, her voice drawing out the word friendly.

You eyed were her hand gripped Jace, a feeling of envy taking over you.

Jace’s eyes darted between the two of you, his hand slowly pulling away from Baelas.

“why wouldn’t I be friendly, with my sweet nephew?” you said, grasping Jace’s hand in your own.

Baela sent you a glare. “my betrothed and had plans.” She stated, her eyes turning to glare at Jace, who’s eyes were focused on your hand and his.

“oh?” you teased, running your over hand up the length of Jace’s arm. “betrothed? I didn’t know.”

“well its not official-“ Jace spoke quickly.

“no but-“

“but what?” you questioned, your eyes turning to Jace, and your hand moving from the length of his arm to thigh,

He let out a gasp, “Baela, I promised my aunt lunch” he said, his voice strained, as you began to move your hand to his crotch.

She huffed, standing quickly and leaving, but not before sending you a glare that you were sure caused offers to recoil from.

Your hand moved from his crotch and pushed Jace away from you.

“Betrothed?” you questioned, voice harsh.

“its not official…I- “

“I? what? Hmm…” you interrupted, “gods your pathetic” you mumbled, and stood up.

Walking towards your chambers, Jace rushing after you.

“please, I didn’t… I’m not betrothed I begged to marry you, don’t be jealous!” he begged, as he followed you into your chambers.

“Jealous?” you said, turning around quickly. “oh you pathetic little thing.” You laughed, “you think I’m jealous of her? That I desire you so thoroughly that I would be jealous over a woman claiming to be yours?”

Jace swallowed roughly, his hand reaching for you.

“I could have anyone, I have men begging for my hand and you think that I – me a princess of the realm, would wish for some bastard as my husband?” you scoffed.

Your eyes moved down his body, your eyes focusing on the growing tent in his pants.

You laughed “you do don’t you? Oh you sweet pathetic thing” you said, moving to him and caress his cheek.

“why would I marry you? hmm? what could I possibly gain?”

His face was flushed as he spoke, “I – am my mother heir, I will be king…you could be my queen”

“queen? Hmm I do like the sound of that” you hummed, your mouth grazing his jaw, “but still there’s you…sweet, pathetic Jace, what makes you think your worthy of me?”

His mouth dropped open as you placed soft teasing kisses to his jaw.

“Beg.” You said as you stepped back, and Jace dropped to his knees.

“please” he begged “all my life I have thought to be worthy of you…I have admired you and loved you, please…please I need you” he begged.

“good, you whispered, moving behind him and grasping his hair, pulling his head back, “now tell me how pathetic you are”

He didn’t hesitate, even when she began to kiss his neck, “I am so pathetic” he near moan “I am just a silly, pathetic bastard”

“kiss me” she muttered, moving around to kneel in front of him, and Jace wasted no time.

He moved quickly and sloppily, groaning as he tasted your lips.

You grabbed his hair and pulled him back, “so eager” you muttered, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

“please” he begged.

“do you love me?” you asked, desperate for him to say yes.

“yes, gods yes please…please I have only ever wanted you”

“you want to marry me...have me as your wife…your queen?

“yes.” He moaned.

“they’ll never agree” you whispered, even your inner thoughts were scared to admit that you wanted him to. Even though you had been taught to hate him, taught to despise him and his family, and what he was.

And yet he was the only one ever beg for your company, to choose you over everyone else, to love you.

 “unless…” you started, eyeing him slowly.

“what?” he pleaded, ever egar to make you happy.

“they catch us…in a compromising position” your voice was teasing, and yet dripped with desire of your own.

“yes…please, please” he begged, his lips hovering over yours.

Your lips took his, your mouth dominating his in your heated kiss.

Your tongue begged entry into his mouth, your tongue dominating his, as your hands gripped his tunic.

You pulled back suddenly, moving away from Jace and towards the bed, pulling your dress of as you did, leaving you in your small clothes.

They were sheer, hiding nothing.

Jace’s mouth drawled, as he crawled to were you sat against your bed.

His hand gripping your legs as you pulled up your chemise to reveal your wet heat.

“please” he begged, as he placed desperate kisses from your ankles to your thighs.

you nodded, leaning back on the bed as Jace moved to lick your slit.

He placed slow testing licks up your folds, tasting you and seeing your reaction.

You gave an encouraging moan as he moved to kiss your clit.

Focusing his attention there, you gripped his hair, letting out small moans as he pleasures you.

his fingers began to tease your whole, entering you slowly as he licked at your clit.

The intrusion caused you to moan and grip his hair harder. Your legs wrapping around his head and pushing him closer into you.

He moved to grip your thigs, and his tongue began to fuck you. You rode his face until you came with a shout, your hands gripping his hair so hard you were surprised you hadn’t ripped any out.

He pulled back from you, sitting calmly in front of you, the tent in his pants as prominent as ever. His eyes hooded in lust.

“Take off your clothes” you commanded, your own hands reaching to pull of your chemise.

He groaned and swallowed roughly at the sight. His hands hastily moving to take his own clothes of.

So egar he tripped over is own clothes as he came towards the bed.

Sitting side by side you reached for his face, pulling him into another searing kiss. Your hand moving towards his cock, giving a teasing tug as you kissed your way down his neck.

“Lay down” you ordered, and Jace willing as ever did.

You crawled over him, hovering above him as you kissed him deep and slowly, your hand reaching for his cock.

Spreading your juices along his length before you slowly eased your way down onto him.

You both moaned as you did so.

Jace’s face was tense as you moved back to sit on his cock. your hips giving a testing roll as you took in his tense nervous face.

“something wrong lord strong?” you teased, moving your hips in slow taunting circles.

“i-um..i I’ve never..”

You gasped in mock shock, “my, is my strong nephew a virgin?” you taunted, moving forward to lean over him, your lips hovering over his.

He nodded, his hands awkwardly reaching to grip your hips. “Are you?” he asked, letting out a moan as you decided to pick up the face, your hips moving faster as you lowered ne of his hands to circle your clit.

You scoffed, “when you look like me, sweet prince, and you have every man eating out the palm of your hand, do you really think id be a maid?” you said, letting out a moan as his cock began to hit that one sweet spot inside you.

“gods” you moaned, your hips moving faster. “fuck” you said, as you worked hard to reach your peak, moans emitting from your mouth, until your peak finally washed over you.

You slumped over Jace’s chest. Pressing a soft kiss to him before flipping him over.

“fuck me Jace” you ordered, your hands wrapping around his neck, and legs around his waist as he began to fuck into you with slow testing thrusts.

He started of slow, his movements erratic, before finally finding a rhyme, his cock hitting that spot inside you once more, as he tested to find your reaction with each thrust.

As is climax approached, his movements grew faster, both your moans and groans echoing the others as he fucked into you, until he finally came and filled you with his seed.

He lay on top of you for a time, breathing heavily as you cradeled him in your arms.

He looked up at you, his lips looking more kissable than ever before.

Gods, had you not known your mother wouldn’t be storming into your room at any moment, sure that your guards had quickly gone to fetch her after hearing the moans you and Jace were emitting, you might of kissed him again.

But your mother barged on in, a look of horror on her face as she took in the clothes on the floor and you and face naked on the bed, your thighs spread and displaying the product of your union dripping down your thighs.

“fetch Rhaenyra!” she demanded.

Her face angered as you and Jace lay in bed, reaching quickly for a blanket to cover you.

The argument that went down went surprisingly better than you had expected.

With your mother demanding you be married immediately, and only calling you a whore once, and with Jace begging his mother desperately for your hand. You and Jace were quickly married in the sept and Jace become more pathetic than ever after you were officially made his.

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[igotanidea]

Not enough: Anthony Bridgerton x reader

(Part 2 to too much)

„I am so terribly sorry for the inconvenience I might have brought on you with my sudden appearance-” she started while walking inside the place of her destination or, to put it more bluntly, after fleeting from her own house upon not-so-subtle fight with her still-husband.

„Y/n! Nonsense my dear, your presence is always welcomed here.” she heard in response and for the first time since the argument she managed to look into the eyes of another person as well as take in the scene in front of her.

Oh dear lord!

Her timing couldn’t be more wrong.

Apparently the only person who was missing from the widow viscountess Bridgerton household was the queen herself, since not only the lady of the house alongside with all her unmarried daughters were enjoying the afternoon tea, but - to Y/N’s very well hidden terror - the duchess and lady Danburry were present as well.

„duchess.” Y/N bowed in the most polite manner she could even though her knees were shaking „lady Danburry.”

Act like nothing happened.

Behave like a lady and not like a little kid, who came her to pour all her worries and tell on her husband who happened to be mean. The last thing she needed was for everyone to talk about her nervousness and giddiness. None of those ladies would be easily fooled and most definitely not lady Danburry with her nosy nature and piercing gaze.

The point was to visit her favourite sister-in-law Eloise who- luckily - were free of any marriage troubles and gain some perspective but that scenario flew away with the gentle summer breeze faster than Y/N could think.

And now she would be kindly invited to join the tea and the respect for widower viscountess alongside with the obligation to the higher positioned duchess (even if family) would forbid her from declining.

„Y/N.” Daphne sent her that tiny, quite shy smile that didn’t calm the nerves even in the slightest. Yes, the duchess was one of the most polite and subtle person in the society, but she was also happily married with another baby on the way.

„Viscountess Bridgerton.” the oldest, lady Danburry on the opposite was known from her sharp tongue and straightforward attitude. That one did not pull her punches.

„My dearest Y/N.” Violet Bridgerton, the mother in law stood up from her place and hugged the girl close. Obviously she was the most open one with her emotions. And the simple warm welcome made Y/n feel a bit strengthened to the point when she even gave a little smile. Tiniest, but honest and still visible.

„Is Anthony with you my dear?’

„Unfortunately my husband is absorbed with the matter of the household today.” Y/N explained, taking a seat next to Violet. „I was rather confused with all the men’s affairs, which brought me here.”

„confused?” Eloise, of whose presence everyone seemed to forget scoffed from her book „You are way smarter that Anthony is, Y/n!”

„Eloise!” her mother friendly scolded her second daughter

„It’s true mama!”

„Even though-’

„Did you come baring notices by any chance, viscountess?" lady Agatha cut into the family exchange innocently taking a sip of her tea, those sharp eyes of a predator glistening

„Notices?”

„Yes viscountess, notices. It;s been a fair amount of time since the marriage, surely something should happen soon between two people who are lucky enough to be in love as much as yo and the viscount?”

Oh...

Oh, she meant that kind of notices.

„May this be so, Y/n?” Daphne asked seeming uncharacteristically brisk. „shall we expect?”

„I certainly hope she won’t be burdened with the heir to the title any time soon--”

‘Eloise!”

„Is it the only purpose of a woman to be obedient to a man and give him children?!”

All the four older woman in the room went quiet and Eloise realised she might have had said a little bit too much. Not only for the lady but in general.

„I suppose our dearest Y/N would love to become a mother and bless us with the little boy or girl, am I correct?”

Of course I would love to, Violet.

I would love to.

Unfortunately so it happens your oldest son refuses to even speak or look at me, let alone performing his so-called marital duty. Which is even more tragic, since I became one to him. Here is the essence of my existence - forever being reminded of the burden I put on his shoulder with storming into his life.

Obviously those thoughts were something the newest viscountess Bridgerton could not form out loud.

„I shall send the regards to my husband ladies. Certainly will not omit to inform him of the expectation placed upon us both.” was the only thing she managed to say with confidence before her voice broke and she covered the sudden wavering by reaching for the sweet placed on the nearby platter.

„Oh my dearest Y/N, it’s no obligation!” Violet seemed quite hurt by the words spoken by her daughter-in-law „Regardless - a child is always a miracle that-”

„Maybe Y/N wouldn’t have to worry about it, if Anthony were taking more interest in her rather than spending time with Benny and Colin.”

„Eloise!”

„It’s just a simple observation! Benedict and Colin are still bachelors, even though the ladies of kind are sharpening their claws for them both, considering the fact the viscountess title is not longer available. Nonetheless, neither of them seem to be interested in taking in marriage-”

‘Eloise!” Violet called upon her daughter once more

„Perhaps if they weren’t spending their times in the club, effectively convincing Anthony to go with them--”

‘Enough, young lady!”

„But-”

„Enough Eloise.”

Y/N went pale at all the words spoken. Not because of their truthfulness, but due to the fact that the word already got out. This was a calamity she was trying her best to cover up and now her favourite member of the family announced them to the world, not thinking about the possible consequences of aforementioned action.

„Y/N, are you quite all right?” Daphne was the first one to take some action „that sudden pallor cannot be good for you. Shall we take a walk?”

Naturally the little stroll around the room will be something to make her feel better. Luckily the most perceptive Eloise noticed the torpid expression on the viscountess face and, not giving her sister any chance to press the matter further, vigorously explained that Daphne certainty meant an actual promenade outside on the manor grounds and that was something y/n was more than delighted to engage in.

Presenting a perfect opportunity to actually indulge in a meaningful conversation not regarding children and submission due to a woman.

***

On the other side of the city Anthony didn’t even notice his wife’s actual absence.

How could he, when she was always present and vivid in his mind, leaving him with her image in front of his eyes even when she was away from him.

Y/N’s face and silhouette, her smile and her resonant, joyful laughter were forever carved in his mind, ever since the day she laughed at him at the lake upon their first meeting, through the first moment of stolen forbidden intimacy, up to the moment looked into her eyes while vowing to love and to cherish her.

His beautiful bride.

His beautiful wife.

Strong willed, hot headed, always having an opinion of her own and doing things her own way, capable to charm everyone with the cheerful character and most natural humor and intelligence.

All the traits that could not be bought by any of the obedient, quiet and shy ladies from high society.

All the traits that put him under her spell and made him want to spend the rest of his life with Y/n.

Only with her.

And he didn’t want to fight, he wanted the same kind of marriage his own parents were joyful to share.

It was all so perfect, until the moment those bright memories got covered with storm clouds of how he behave towards her.  

Not that the viscount gave them much thoughts, too lost in his own meaningless settlements that were not due till the fore-coming month.

It was easier this way.

Forgetting about all the words he said int he moment of anger and of fear (if not mere terror) of his own emotions.

Emotions that, unfortunately, refused to be closed in a hard shell of harsh, obsessive behaviour and being ignored.

Once let out, they wanted to run free.

And oh, so they did, causing the viscount to feel dizzy and giving him palpitations.

All the marriages had their bad moments.

It was impossible to continue for years keeping the same flame that started years ago.

The wife was supposed to be obedient and comply with her husband wishes, especially not bothering him with her presence and whimsical needs or fairy-tell beliefs.

A lady was a diamond in the crown but a wife became a part of the estate, of the livestock. Forever in her husband’s hand to rule.

He was the the man.

He was the viscount and before he met her she was just another long-forgotten by admirers débutante desperate to--

No.

No this was not true and as much as it would be comfortable for Anthony to dwell in all those thoughts, his heart was still in the right place giving him a very clear signal it was time to stop justifying his previous action. Those were the foundation for a very unstable and fragile house that could be blown away easily.

Maybe it wasn’t that his emotions were too much. Maybe it was that his heart capacity was not enough to contain the amount of affection he held for his one and only.

His Y/N.

And he couldn’t have that.

He had to find her wherever she might have been.

He had to fight for her and make it all right.

Even if that meant getting back on his knees, making a scene straight out of those unrealistic romance novels ladies loved and putting it into practice.

„Where on earth is my wife?!” he yelled to the servants, opening the door to his office, his voice loud enough to make the walls shake.

I’m coming for you, my viscountess.

My love.

***

It's not over yet!

Edit: part 3 : almost there

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[sagaduwyrm]

Something that interests me about Girl Genius is the way that the Heterodynes are consistently portrayed as the worst of the worst despite being pretty reasonable by Spark standards.

This is not to say that they are reasonable by normal people standards, or that they were anything approaching decent people. This is pointing out that compared to other sparks, who figured out they could conquer places and immediately started the Long War, the Heterodynes have had little to no large scale negative effect on the world.

Evidence: Zumzum

While in Zumzum Agatha finds out that the Heterodyne raids rolled through the town "every four years or so, sure as the moonrise" (Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess). Despite this the town is, though small, prosperous. They have a fully staffed guard and enough spare income that the circus was initially planning to remain for three days.

Compare this to the numerous dead towns noted to be littering the wastelands. Sparks regularly render towns unlivable or dead. The Heterodynes, however traumatize them and steal their stuff, but still leave the towns they raid capable of functioning. From this we can assume that, despite what we are told, the Heterodynes are not only capable of self-restraint, they're good at it.

Evidence 2: Heterodyne Creations

The Heterodynes left an enduring legacy in the form of constructs, clanks, and the castle. Many of these are hundreds of years old and yet have little trouble functioning. This means that the Heterodynes not only build to last, but their descendants are willing to put in the time for upkeep rather than get distracted and focus on the next big thing.

The Heterodynes are the only sparks with so many creations still running around. Other sparks, like Van Rijn, do have some creations that have lasted the ages, but nothing compared to the sheer quantity of the Heterodynes.

Also, consider the jägerkin. The jägers are some of the most important Heterodyne constructs, and have acted as the core of their army and their honor guard for more than half a millennia. Despite this, they don't have levels of speed or strength much beyond average, at least as far as spark constructs go. Instead, they're noted for their remarkable survivability. This again suggests that Heterodynes prioritize longevity to a remarkable level for sparks.

Evidence the Last: Europa still Exists

I repeat myself, after two centuries of off and on spark warfare, significant amounts of Europa is unlivable. The Heterodynes had ten centuries and Europa was fine. Do the math.

However, despite this show of consistent reason, the Heterodynes are constantly described in story as evil incarnate. I'd like to posit that this suggests both that in-story lore should be taken as unreliable, but also that the most dangerous sparks aren't the flashy, fire and brimstone assholes. It's the consistent, intelligent ones who know when to back off and when to press that are the real danger, and it's for this reason that the continent fears Heterodynes. Not because they're uniquely capable of destruction, but because they know when not to destroy.

The Heterodynes are the oldest dynasty in Europa. To everyone with the slightest understanding of how sparks work, this is terrifying.

Also, here's a post that tries to answer why the Heterodynes are uniquely like this. You should read it. It partially inspired this.

[toon-tales]

Analyzing Trolls scenes: part 5

"I'm the oldest, I HAD to be the leader!"

No, because-

There's a difference between 'I have to be' and 'I had to be'.

John was FORCED to be the leader because he's the oldest, with the absence of their parents who we don't know anything about.

Like, he didn't choose this.

"Four little brothers is a lot of responsibility!"

"Why do you think I left? So no one would treat me like you did!"

It happens, alright? John was the oldest and he had to be the leader, and, in the process, he was hurting his brothers to the point they actually left. Everyone, every oldest sibling, can unknowingly hurt his younger siblings. Does that mean they hate each other or don't care? No! Big, fat no! I'd like to remind you that he set to find the other brothers, twenty years later, to save Floyd. They're brothers, darn it!

Does this justify his actions? Not in the slightest.

Was this his fault? Maybe, yes. Maybe, no. If they had been open from the beginning, maybe this wouldn't have happened. We don't know the full story.

Is he trying to change? In the beginning, nope. Not at all.

At the end? Probably, yes. You can see it.

Will it take time? Lots and lots of time.

Will it get better? Hopefully.

And in the end, feel free to add.

[supernaturalscribe67]

Denial

Words: 5,703

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Castiel x Male!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Language, Winchesters being Winchesters, implied sexual content, awkward 'flirting', Dean feeling the same way about Cas x Reader as Sam feels about Destiel, Fluff, Humor

Summary: The reader does NOT have a crush on Castiel. At least, that's what he keeps saying. Sam and Dean, however, aren't convinced in the slightest. What happens when the classic Winchester shenanigans take it too far? Will the reader's true feelings be revealed?

Request:

hi. i love your work very much. I humbly request a Castiel x Winchester!reader, where the reader is the oldest brother and Cas and the reader fall for each other. Cas and Dean are best friends I feel like so Dean might tease and be like "what are your intentions with my big brother" and Cas is like "...wdym........." bc he doesn't wanna admit he has feelings and meanwhile the reader and Sam are on a minor hunt together or something and Sam is like "so when are you gonna make your move" and the reader is like "!!! i do not have feelings for this baby in a trench coat!!! wdym!!!!!" and so Sam and Dean come together and take matters into their own hands and come up with some shenanigans that make Cas and the reader come together and admit how they feel for each other. just something nice and fluffy and sweet. thank you very much 💕

Anonymous

A/N: Happy Monday! I had a lot of fun writing this and I'm glad to finally be getting it out! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

~ Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Dean’s laughter erupted down the hallway as (Y/N) left his room. He couldn’t help but shake his head as he slung his large duffel bag over his shoulder. Just as he closed his door, Sam’s door opened. He came out, clad in his usual flannel and jean combination, his duffel resting at his side. When he caught sight of (Y/N), he smiled. 

“You got everything?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Let’s head out.”

The two of them made their way down the hall towards the bunker entrance. Dean’s laugh could be heard getting louder as they walked near the library. Upon closer inspection, they could see Dean and Castiel sitting together at one of the tables, Dean’s laptop between them. A bowl of popcorn sat in Dean’s lap, his cheeks slightly puffed from the handful he had just eaten. Castiel’s head was tilted slightly to the side, eyes squinted as he studied the screen. The sound of Bill Murray’s voice echoed through the speakers.

“The Hell are you two watching?” (Y/N) asked.

“Groundhog Day,” Dean answered, words slightly muffled by the popcorn. “Cas hasn’t seen it before.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “Out of all the movies you could pick from, you pick Groundhog Day?”

“Hey, don’t knock Bill Murray.”

“I’ll knock whoever the Hell I wanna knock. Anyways, you got the keys to Baby?”

For the first time since they approached the archway, Dean turned to look at them. He took in their attire and eyed their bags. 

“Where’re you two going?” He asked as he began to dig the keys out of his pant pocket.

“Buddy of mind in Colorado says they have a Wendigo problem that needs fixing. They can’t seem to track it down, so they need some extra hands.”

“Well, why does Sam get to go but I gotta stay here?”

“It’s a Wendigo, Dean. Bringing more people will make things complicated. Four against one is plenty. Consider this your little vacation.”

Dean sighed. “Fine. I bet it’s Bradley Knox who called anyway,” he said as he tossed the keys.

(Y/N) swiftly caught them with his left hand and pointed at his brother. “For your information, it was, in fact, Bradley Knox.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he frowned. “Oh, what? That jackass? Come on, you never said we would be helping him.”

“Because I knew you were going to bitch about it.”

“Who is Bradley Knox?” Castiel asked, his attention turned away from the computer screen.

Dean reached over and paused the movie. “He’s this dick (Y/N) met when he tried hunting solo. A real piece of work. We helped him out a couple of times, and he just shit-talked us the whole time.” He answered.

“He acts like he’s still in middle school. He smells bad, dresses like a pig, and he talks like one, too. Plus, he wouldn’t stop calling me Sasquatch last time.” Sam added. 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “Look, I know he sucks, but he has a hunt, and we need to stop this Wendigo. It’s already killed five people. We just have to get in and get out. That’s it.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Alright, but if he calls me Sasquatch again-”

“Then I’ll make sure to stop him from hurting little Sammy’s feelings,” (Y/N) reached up and pinched Sam’s cheek.

Sam smacked his hand away. “Get off me.”

“Oh, get the stick out of your ass. We’ll be near Denver, so I’ll take you to that new fancy vegan place that opened recently.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, whatever will get you to not bitch and moan the whole trip.” He flipped the keys in his hand. “Alright, we’re heading out. Don’t get into any trouble while we’re gone, Dean.”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not five.” He grumbled. 

“You act like it,” (Y/N) mumbled before he looked over at Castiel. Their eyes met. “Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Castiel nodded. “I will watch over him.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” Dean exclaimed.

“I beg to differ. Then, Cas, when Sam and I get back, I’ll show you a good movie that isn’t poorly acted.”

Slowly, a smile formed on Castiel’s lips. “Okay,” 

(Y/N) returned the smile. “We’ll see you later,” he took a couple of steps backward before he turned his back on them.

Sam gave a small wave before he followed his brother up the stairs and out the front door.

*~*

Dean leaned back in his seat when the heavy metal door slammed shut. The movie on the computer was still paused, so he took a moment to glance over at Castiel. He noted how the corners of his lips were still curled upward, his crow's feet and laugh lines prominent. At the sight, he smirked and shifted his body so he was facing him.

“So…” Dean trailed as he sat the bowl of popcorn on the table. “(Y/N), huh?”

Castiel looked over at him, the smile vanishing, and replaced with an expression of confusion. “What about (Y/N)?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “He’s a good guy, right?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“A really good guy?”

“Yes?”

“Would you say you like being around him?”

“I do.”

“Really like being around him?”

Castiel shifted in his seat. “I’m not understanding this line of questioning, Dean.”

“Do you like my brother?”

“I do, yes, he’s my friend. Did I do something that made you assume I didn’t?”

“No, it’s just-” Dean sighed. “You know what? Nevermind. Let’s just watch the movie.” Without waiting for a response, he reached over and resumed the film.

Castiel stared at him for a moment with furrowed brows. After a couple of seconds, he shook his head and returned his attention to the computer.

*~*

The Impala drove smoothly down the nearly deserted highway. Instead of the loud classic rock that normally played through the speakers, Celine Dion’s smooth voice filled the car. (Y/N) sat in the driver’s seat, one arm resting on the window sill while the other held the wheel. Sam took his usual spot in the passenger’s seat.

“So, what info do we have so far?” Sam asked.

“Well, so far, the only thing we know is that the victims were tourists. Some of those people decided to search for a good hiking trail and then, all of a sudden, they were snatched. At least, that’s what’s assumed.”

“Did the victims know each other?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do we know when they got snatched?”

“Kind of.”

“Where they got snatched?”

“Kind of.”

“Does Bradley even know what he’s doing?”

“Probably not.”

Sam sighed and slouched in his seat, running his fingers through his hair. (Y/N)’s shoulders dropped. 

“Look,” he began. “I know it’s not the best scenario, but any start is better than a blank slate. We know a great deal more about Wendigos than Bradley does, so I’m sure we can knock this out of the park, alright? I say we just talk about something else, get our mind off of it for a while, then we-”

“Do you like Cas?”

“What!?” (Y/N) exclaimed, eyes wide, both hands tightly clenched onto the wheel. “No! I, no, what, why would you ask me that?”

“What?” Sam asked innocently, although he couldn’t hold back the smirk that curled on his lips. “I just asked if you liked him, that’s all. You said you wanted to talk about something else.”

“I didn’t mean that!”

“Come on, I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“Well, I think your hallucinations are back because you’re seeing shit.”

“So…you don’t like Cas?”

“I don’t like Cas! Now drop it!”

(Y/N)’s eyes were glued to the road ahead, which allowed Sam to get a good look at his profile. At the top of his cheekbones, next to his nose, sat a red tinge. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. He pressed his lips together and looked away, holding his hands up briefly in mock surrender. 

“Fine, I’ll drop it.” He said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Good. Now shut up, Whitney Houston’s playing.” (Y/N) grumbled, reached over, and turned up the music.

I Wanna Dance With Somebody thumped through the metal frame, the brothers silent as they continued their lengthy trek from Lebanon, Kansas to Denver, Colorado.

*~*

Vacation? What could Dean do on vacation? Stuck in the bunker, no less. He could catch up on some television series that he started, but he knew he would get tired of that soon enough. The Impala had been hijacked, so giving her the fine tune he had been desperate to give was out of the question. Bar hopping wasn’t an option, as he trusted no other car than Baby. What kind of hobbies did people his age get into? Crochet? Cross Stitch? Sudoku? Over his dead body.

In the end, Dean sat on his bed, pieces of his handgun scattered across the blanket as he meticulously cleansed each part until they glimmered in the dim lamplight. It was a task he had been meaning to do for a while. He guessed his ‘vacation’ could be used to catch up on all the chores he had held off.

Smoke on the Water rang out through the otherwise quiet room. Dean stopped his action to look at the screen. Sammy Calling… Dean sat the pieces down, grabbed his phone, and accepted the call.

“Hey, Sam. You guys doing okay?” He asked as he settled on the edge of his bed.

“Yeah, we’re about halfway there. Listen, I don’t have much time to talk, (Y/N) just walked into the gas station for a minute. Did you talk to Cas?”

“Yeah,”

“And?”

“He didn’t get it.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I asked him if he liked (Y/N), he said ‘Of course I do, he’s my friend’,” Dean explained with a slightly mocking tone.

“Or, he could have understood what you were asking and just played dumb.”

“I give Cas credit for a lot of things, but this is not one of those times. What about you? Did you ask him yet?”

“I did, and, of course, he denied it.”

“Of course, he did,” Dean rolled his eyes as he laid back against his pillows.

“Get this, though. He was blushing.”

“No way.”

“Yes!”

“And you’re sure it was a blush?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Oh, this is just too perfect. Sam, we have to get those two together.”

“How? Neither of them will admit their feelings for one another. They’re in denial.”

Dean hummed and pursed his lips in thought. “We might just have to get creative. I’m on vacation. I’ve got plenty of time on my hands to think.”

“Yeah, yeah, lucky you.” Sam deadpanned. “Oh, I gotta go. (Y/N)’s coming out.”

“I’ll send you my ideas,” Dean spoke quickly before he ended the call and tossed his phone onto the bed.

Many thoughts formed in his head. Mischievous, Winchester thoughts. If he thought his pranks were good, the ideas that he had to get (Y/N) and Castiel together were to die for.

It had been a personal goal of his for well over a year. He wasn’t ignorant to the passing glances that the two of them gave one another, it was rather gross if he had anything to say about it. He could tell, though, that Castiel’s presence made his brother genuinely happy. If anyone deserved that happiness, it was him. If they got together, perhaps then they could keep their bedroom eyes away from him. If he had to witness it anymore, he was sure to go insane.

As he went to stand from his bed, the familiar clink of metal filled his ears. He glanced down at the scattered handgun parts that littered his bed. With a sigh, he sat back against the pillows and began to reassemble his gun, not caring that the quality of his cleaning wasn’t perfect. Brainstorming could wait until he was finished. He was on vacation, after all.

*~*

“Stupid rich people and their stupid, worthless suits,” (Y/N)’s deep grumble echoed throughout the small motel bathroom.

His brothers snorted in amusement. None of them wanted to dress up for the charity ball they had to attend - as it was necessary to gain intel for their case - so a three-way game of rock-paper-scissors was done to determine which would be unlucky enough to wear the rental suit. For the first time in months, (Y/N) lost. The title of ‘loser’ normally went to Dean, rarely Sam, but the younger Winchesters didn’t want to risk having to put on the constrictive outfit. They seldom rigged the game to get what they wanted, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Castiel sat at the end of one of the beds, eyes fixated on the bathroom door, brows knitted together. “(Y/N) doesn’t seem too happy,” he commented.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be happy either if I got stuck wearing a suit around old people.” Dean chuckled. 

“What’s wrong with wearing a suit?”

“They’re just uncomfortable.”

Castiel glanced down at himself before his eyes settled on the brothers. “I’m not uncomfortable in my attire.”

“You’re used to it, Cas,” Sam said. “We wear jeans and flannel every day. It’s more practical for hunting. Hell, even getting around in our FEDs costumes is a pain. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Who the HELL thought cuff links were a good idea!?” (Y/N)’s loud voice boomed.

Dean covered his mouth to stop himself from spitting up his coffee. Oh, how the simple struggles of his siblings made him smile. Castiel’s head whipped back around as he stared at the door with a look of worry. Sam and Dean took note of it immediately and shared a knowing look. Dean gestured with his head over to his friend, and that was when Sam turned in his chair.

“You know what I think could cheer him up, Cas?” He asked.

Castiel peered over at him and Sam swore he saw those baby blues light up. “What?” He asked, head tilted to the side.

“Compliments.”

“Compliments?”

“When he comes out, tell him he looks nice.”

“Tell him he looks hot,” Dean interjected.

“Yeah! Tell him he looks hot.” Sam nodded in agreement.

“Hot?” Castiel frowned.

“Trust me, Cas, people love compliments, and saying that someone’s hot is a huge one. It’ll make him feel better almost immediately.” Dean explained.

Castiel considered the advice before he nodded. “Okay, I will tell him he looks…hot.”

Dean beamed and reached across the table to give Sam a fistbump. Sam furrowed his brows and shook his head. Dean’s smile faded before he cleared his throat and placed his hands back down on the table.

It didn’t take long before the bathroom door opened and out came a rather irritated (Y/N). The suit looked and felt foreign on him, a massive step from his usual hunting wear. He adjusted the collar of the jacket before he smoothed out the front. Finally, he let out a sigh and gestured out with his arms in a grandiose fashion.

“How do I look?” He asked, voice monotone. 

Sam and Dean pursed their lips, looked him over, and gave supportive head nods before their eyes shifted to Castiel. (Y/N)’s gaze moved from Sam to Dean to Castiel. Their eyes locked and Castiel immediately looked away, seeming to find his hands easier to look at. 

“You look…hot,” Castiel said.

(Y/N)’s brows shot up and his eyes widened. “I, um, I do?”

“Yes,” Castiel gave a small, sweet smile.

(Y/N)’s lips opened and shut rapidly, as if he were a fish out of water. He let out a breathy chuckle as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks, Cas,”

“Of course,”

A soft smile graced (Y/N)’s lips as their eyes connected for a brief moment. It didn’t take long before his eyes wandered back over to his brothers, who were both sporting wide smirks. He wiped the smile off of his face and straightened up as if he had seemingly forgotten they were in the same room. 

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” He swiftly made his way out of the motel room.

Sam and Dean shared a look before they stood from their spots at the table. Castiel followed suit. When (Y/N) was out of earshot, Castiel spoke.

“He seems better,” he said with a bright, proud smile. 

Dean returned the smile. “He sure does, buddy,” He patted him twice on the back before he wrapped his arm around his shoulders and led him out of the motel room. “He sure does.”

*~*

God bless the Men of Letters and God bless good water pressure.

There were countless amenities the bunker had that (Y/N) loved. The stainless steel kitchen appliances, the massive garage, the memory foam mattress, each of them held a special place in his heart. However, the showers take the cake. Who knew water could get so hot? And who knew water could relax your muscles so well? If there was one thing he loved to do after a long day, it was spend a good chunk of his evening in the shower to unwind. 

All good things must come to an end, though, as he had earned his fair share of lectures from his brothers about conserving the hot water. While he understood their point, he felt like he deserved the comfort after years of abuse in the hands of rusty, weak motel showerheads. And, dammit, he was going to get his compensation. 

As he turned off the water, the bathroom fell into silence. Steam warped around his naked form and covered him like a blanket as he stepped onto the bath mat. He absentmindedly reached for the towel rack, but only came in contact with the cheap metal bar. He furrowed his brows and glanced at his hand to find that the rack was barren. He swore he had placed a towel there before. Above the towel rack, a light pink post-it note hung limply on the wall. (Y/N) frowned deeply, reached up, and grabbed the note. He held it close to his face to be able to see the sloppily written words.

This is for putting Nair in my body wash. ~ Sam

“That little bastard,” (Y/N) grumbled and crumbled up the note in his hand.

When had Sam been able to sneak into the bathroom to take his stuff? True, he had been known to mentally doze off in the shower, and lose all sense of himself in the middle of his wash, which had ultimately landed him victim to countless other pranks, but he would certainly be able to hear if anyone were to enter the bathroom and take his towel not two feet away, right? Regardless, at least he was within the safety of the bunker to do so. Having him space out in a motel bathroom could mean the difference between life and death. In the bunker, all he had was his pain in the ass little brothers to worry about.

With a new wave of irritation and not a care in the world, (Y/N) walked to the bathroom door and opened it. He was stopped dead in his tracks, mouth slightly open as he made to call out for his brother when he noticed Castiel standing directly in front of him, hand raised as if to knock. (Y/N)’s eyes widened and he felt a tightness appear in his chest. His mouth went dry and his heart raced. He was frozen.

“Hello, (Y/N),” Castiel said.

“Uh, hey,” (Y/N) replied slowly.

Castiel glanced down at the object in his arms before he held it out. “Sam and Dean asked me to bring you this. It was freshly washed.”

It took every ounce of willpower for (Y/N) to look down at the towel in Castiel’s possession.

“Thanks,” his voice was small as he accepted and brought it to his chest.

“You’re welcome.” Castiel smiled widely, and it was as if time itself had stopped.

(Y/N) returned the gesture as he found himself lost in Castiel’s gaze, a rather common occurrence as of late. He couldn’t help it. It was as if he were a deer in headlights, or a child staring directly into the deadlights of Pennywise’s true form. However, instead of an impending sense of doom, all he felt was peace, like a world of tranquility lived behind his eyes. A world that he wanted to go to.

“(Y/N)?” Castiel’s voice broke him out of his trance.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

It was impossible to miss the flicker of Castiel’s stare as he looked over (Y/N)’s body before retreating to his face. One good glance at himself made realization dawn on him. He never covered up. His face turned an undeniably dark shade of crimson as he was quick to unravel the towel he was given to preserve what little modesty he had left.

“Uh, yeah, I’m, um, I mean, yes, I’m okay,” he stumbled over his words. “I’m just gonna,” he slowly edged his way past Castiel awkwardly.

As he walked past, he tripped over his own feet and barely caught the towel before he could be revealed again. He chuckled, but it was more forced than anything.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright, (Y/N)?” Castiel pushed, a hint of concern in his words.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine! Fine and dandy! A-okay!” He continued to answer as he walked backward down the hallway. It didn’t take long before his back came in contact with the cold, stone wall. He jumped and sheepishly fumbled to the conjoining hall. “There’s a wall there,” he muttered with an inelegant chuckle before he turned and made a mad dash down the hallway and away from the bathroom.

His face was on fire, he was sure of it. He knew Sam and Dean did that on purpose, those idiots. A part of him was thankful none of them were around to witness the interaction. Another part wanted them to be near so he could clobber them. Regardless, he knew he would have to get back at them, and he was going to make it his best revenge yet.

*~*

Itching powder? Too basic. Computer virus? Too complex. Hair dye in the showerhead? Possibly. All of the pranks he could think of were either too childish or had been used before over the years. He couldn’t believe he was forced to sit on his bed and scroll through the terrible articles that included titles such as “15 Awesome Pranks Your Sibling Will NEVER See Coming!” and “50 Best And Funny Pranks To Do On Friends”. None of them were helpful. They just seemed to spit the same suggestions of salt in their coffee, fake bugs on their pillow, and post-it notes over their rooms, all of which seemed bland for the level of revenge he sought.

The bedroom door flung open and bounced off the wall. (Y/N) jumped, eyes wide. Dean came into the room, all but dragging a confused Castiel to the bed. Sam followed closely.

“What the Hell is going on?” (Y/N) asked with a look of bewilderment.

“An intervention,” Dean responded as he sat Castiel down on the edge of the bed.

Without a moment of hesitation, Sam and Dean began to retreat to the exit.

“An intervention? Cas, what’re they- what’re you talking about?” (Y/N) stammered as he stood and began to follow them to the door.

He was too slow, though, as the door was shut seconds before he could reach it. He grabbed the door handle in a futile attempt to open the door but found it to be locked.

“What the Hell? Open the damned door!” He shouted and began to pound on the door with his fist.

“Nope!” Dean’s muffled voice came through the thick wood. “Not until you tell Cas how you feel.”

“What are you talking about!?”

“Oh, come on (Y/N)!” Sam exclaimed. “We both see how you look at him! Just tell him!” 

(Y/N) pressed his lips together, nostrils flared. “Open the door!”

“No.” They said in unison.

(Y/N) growled and slammed his fists into the door, causing it to shake on the hinges.

“(Y/N),” Sam’s voice was quieter. “We know how hard it is for you to say how you feel, but we see how happy you are around him.”

“Yeah, and I’m tired of seeing you guys staring at each other all of the time. If I have to see you guys make bedroom eyes one more time I’m going to blow my brains out.” Dean scoffed.

(Y/N)’s jaw tightened as he leaned his forehead against the door. “If you don’t open this door right now, you both are going to feel my wrath.” He growled and venom dripped from his words.

“Ooo, I’m so scared,” Dean spoke in a childish tone.

“Dean,” Sam hissed. “Just, talk to him, okay? We’ll be back in an hour. If you guys have talked it out, we’ll unlock the door.”

With that, two pairs of footsteps could be heard retreating down the hall.

“An hour!? Sam! Dean! Open the door!” (Y/N)’s shouts echoed in the room.

Once more, (Y/N) grabbed the doorknob to try and pry it open, but quickly found his efforts to be fruitless. After a couple of attempts, and the logical side of him begging to not rip the door off the hinges, he pulled back. He ran his fingers through his hair stressfully and turned back to the bed. Castiel sat in the same spot Dean had put him in, hands folded in his lap. (Y/N) sighed.

“I’m sorry you got roped into their bullshit, Cas,” he said with a soft, sympathetic tone as he walked over and sat beside him. “Whenever those two idiots get something in their heads, they won’t rest until they are proven right, even if they aren’t.”

“Are they wrong?” Castiel asked.

“What?”

“Sam and Dean told me you have romantic feelings for me. Are they wrong?” He tilted his head to the side.

(Y/N) opened his mouth to speak, to deny anything and everything his brothers said. However, as he looked over at Castiel and stared into his eyes, he found the words were lost on him. He looked away, hoisted himself off the bed, and made his way over to the dresser. He leaned against it with his elbow, his opposite hand placed on his hip, back to Castiel. A moment of silence weighed heavy on them before Castiel, too, stood from the bed. 

“(Y/N)?” 

“No, they’re not wrong,” (Y/N) said, his voice quiet, almost mute. “I…I like you.” He snorted. “That’s the first time I’ve admitted it.”

“You like me?”

(Y/N) turned back to Castiel. Their eyes met once again, but, that time, neither felt the urge to shy away. Instead, they kept their gaze, as if to read the other’s expression, as words seemed too complex for either one to be masters in. Slowly, (Y/N) took a couple of steps closer to Castiel.

“Yes. More than a friend. More than family. I mean, I don’t even know how to describe it. I get…nervous whenever I’m around you, but I’m the happiest when I am. No matter how terrible of a day I have, you always seem to make it better just by being near. I don’t know if this is what love feels like, but if it is, it’s strong when you’re around, and I never want it to stop.” His voice got quiet, words spoken barely above a whisper.

Again, they stared in silence, eyes searching for words yet spoken. Although only one had the capability of hearing them while the other was left in the dark. Eventually, (Y/N)’s gaze shifted to silent begging, wanting Castiel to say something, anything.

“I feel the same, and I have for a while,” Castiel finally spoke, never breaking eye contact. “I admit, I was scared to share how I felt. I understand the Winchester’s long history with the loss of loved ones, and I feared you would have your reservations about entering a relationship with me. I, too, have some reservations.”

(Y/N) nodded. The Winchesters had a lengthy list of enemies, most of whom would gain immense pleasure from causing as much pain to them as possible, even if it meant they took the lives of the ones they loved most. Being the lover of a Winchester wasn’t for the faint of heart. It was a death sentence. 

“I understand. But, Cas,” (Y/N) reached up and caressed his cheek, thumb brushing gently against his stubble. “I hate to admit it, but I think it took my brothers locking us up in my room to finally realize that I would rather live a short life with you than any life without you.”

Castiel leaned against his touch. His hand reached up to brush his fingertips.

“May I kiss you?” His voice flowed smoothly, like a river.

(Y/N) smiled. “I would be offended if you didn’t.”

Their lips met and, at first, it felt as if they began to float. Then, the spark. The same spark one only seemed to read out in romance novels or those trashy films Dean claimed to hate. A spark of love, adoration, passion, and lust. It was as if all the words left behind spoke loudly in that kiss. Everything they wanted to say, everything they wanted to hear, was translated into the movements of their lips.

When they broke away, they were breathless, faces flushed, pupils blown. Their mouths moved like they wanted to say something more, but it was lost in their need for one another. They had a silent understanding of what they desired. They kissed again feverishly and fell back onto the bed. 

*~*

“Think they’ve been in there long enough?” Dean asked as he chewed on a mouthful of popcorn.

Sam tore his eyes away from the movie for a second to look at his watch. He shrugged. “It’s been almost an hour and a half. We can go see what happened.”

Dean nodded and used the sleeve of his flannel to wipe the butter from his lips. He paused the movie and both brothers stood.

“You remember the rules of the bet?” Dean asked as they made their way down the hallway.

“If (Y/N) confessed first, you owe me twenty, and if Cas confessed first, I owe you twenty.”

“And if they haven’t confessed yet, the bet is off until they do.”

“Do you really think they’ll do it if they’re forced to?”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Dean asked with raised brows. “The last two things we tried got us nowhere. We know they love each other, they just have to admit it. I think having some time alone together should do the trick.”

“Yeah, but we forced them into that situation. I don’t know about you, but that wouldn’t really put me in the romantic mood.”

“You just know I’m going to win the bet.”

“You’re delusional if you think Cas is going to confess first.”

“Come on, have you seen (Y/N) try and talk about his feelings? He can’t do it!”

“Neither can Cas! If anything, Cas is worse about feelings.”

“Look, all I’m saying is-”

“Oh, Cas!”

The brothers froze as their wide eyes shot towards the end of the hallway where (Y/N)’s door sat. It was silent as they waited to see if anything else would happen. When they heard nothing, they began to make their way to the door, slower that time. As they got closer, a rhythmic thump resounded inside the concrete walls, growing louder as they neared. When they were a couple of feet from the room, they stopped. 

“Fuck, Cas! Harder, please!” The unmistakable moans rang out in the wall. Sam and Dean’s eyes grew wider.

“Say my name,” their friend’s voice was practically unrecognizable by the way it growled out the words.

“Castiel!”

(Y/N)’s loud cry was enough to break Sam and Dean out of their daze. Without a second thought, they turned and scurried down the hallway and out of range from the sounds that were sure to scar them for years to come.

*~*

As the sound of rapid footsteps resonated down the hallway and slowly vanished, a sly smirk fell upon (Y/N)’s lips. He glanced over at Castiel, who sat perched on some of the pillows, fully clothed. Once the footsteps were gone, (Y/N) seized the shaking of the headboard and took his spot next to Castiel on the bed. Castiel lifted his arm and (Y/N) was quick to snuggle against him. 

“That should keep them away for a while,” (Y/N) hummed.

“Why was it necessary for them to believe we were having intercourse?” Castiel asked.

“Not only so they would leave us alone, but it’s the first part of the revenge plan I have in store for them for locking us in here.”

“You know, if they hadn’t locked us in here, then we would have never told each other how we felt.”

“Stop trying to justify their actions,” he grumbled.

Castiel smiled and pressed a soft kiss to (Y/N)’s temple. “I, for one, am thankful for their decision.”

“Don’t let them hear you say that, or you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“So I’ve come to notice.” Castiel chuckled.

(Y/N) copied his laugh as he wrapped an arm around Castiel’s torso and one leg around his to nuzzle closer. Castiel rested his cheek atop (Y/N)’s head.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” (Y/N) said with a content sigh.

Castiel reached down and softly pressed a kiss on his cheek. “The moments I spend with you make it seem like forever isn’t enough.”

[heeseungiez]

RESOLUTION 3) become popular at school

pairings! park jay x fem!reader, sim jake x reader, mentions of heeseung x reader

synopsis! park jay always thought of you as the annoying little miss perfect who could do no wrong in the eyes of his, yours and heeseung’s parents. he wasn’t fond of you in the slightest for that very reason. but when you dropped the act after your perfect image had shattered in front of everyone, he can’t help but feel drawn to you. when he discovers another one of your secrets, he thinks he might truly have to ruin you for the whole world to know how far from perfect you truly are.

content warnings! smut (mdni! 18+), swearing, all of them are idiots, heeseung is desperate and so is jay low-key

word count! ~12k

taglist! OPEN! send an ask to be added!

a/n! i have no idea how the last part's gonna turn out i'll be very honest

masterlist | next

Good morning, Decelis!

Have you ever looked at someone and thought: “Wow, what a sad little life they lead.” Well, that’s how I feel like looking at Park Jay these days. What’s he up to anyway?

XO, Miss Decelis

Jay hated it here.

The one place where he was to be safe from you, his home, had been invaded not just by your family, but you as well. 

Okay, maybe, obviously, since his parents wanted to have a huge barbecue with the other families, but still, seeing you at his backyard made him want to dig himself a hole in the ground and stay there forever. Especially when he saw the adoring looks on his parents faces whenever they regarded you.

“We are so happy you’re healthy, Y/N,” his father said. 

His mum couldn’t keep her hands off of you, placing them on your shoulders, then cheeks to examine you. “When we heard what happened, we tried to help as much as we could.”

“And you did,” you replied with a bright smile, softly pushing his mum’s hands away from you without voicing out your discomfort at the excessive skinship. “My parents told me I was staying at your summer house in the summer?” And that you got me into the rehabilitation centre I went to.”

Well, Jay did not know that. She lived at his family’s summer house? In one of the guest rooms, he supposed. But did she snoop? Jay didn’t have that much stuff in there, but some personal things could be found here and there. He shifted in his place uncomfortably.

“Yes. That is true. But we still felt like we could do more,” Jay’s father sighed, glancing at his son. “We didn’t imagine Jay would ever let anything like this happen to you.”

And look, he probably wouldn’t. He might’ve disliked you, but what happened was fucked up and had he been there to witness it, he’d help you. Of course, he’d help you, he’s not a monster. But he wasn’t there because the last thing he wanted to do was to be stuck to your side at a party. You had your own friends.

Yet it still ate at him from the inside. 

The thing was, although Heeseung was the oldest of the four of you, getting him to actually care about something was as difficult as trying to turn a stone into a living being. So it was up to Jay to look after everyone as the second oldest. But with you, he didn’t want to do it because you annoyed him.

How? Well, this. The way his parents were fussing over you because Jay’s mum always wanted to have a daughter and apparently you were the next best thing. Plus, you were a star student and just perfection incarnate to the point literally nobody even considered the fact that you were bullied. If Jay had known, he would’ve put a stop to it before it could get any worse.

Which he also hated. That he didn’t know about it. It pissed him off that you kept it a secret and didn’t tell anyone just to remain a little miss perfect in the eyes of everyone rather than admitting that there was something wrong and you needed help. 

You glanced at him. Pursing your lips, you shook your head. “I’m sure he wouldn't if he knew,” you replied because you knew Jay well enough. 

He disliked you, but he never let you get hurt physically. Even mentally, it was mostly Jay giving you the cold shoulder rather than being an actual dick the way Heeseung had been. So while Heeseung would watch you fall just so you understood he wanted to have nothing to do with you, Jay would try to catch you.

And really, it wasn’t just his caring nature at this point. You were just so… irritating in a way Jay couldn’t describe because despite Jay’s insistence to ignore you, you’d always show up with something to get his attention over the years.

When you were thirteen, you gifted Jay a pick because you heard he liked playing the guitar.

When you were fifteen, you spent your entire savings just to gift Jay a guitar he couldn’t shut up about a few months before. That was how desperate you were for his acceptance. But it also came from a genuine, generous place in your heart where you liked to see the stunned expression on Jay’s face and the inability to hold in the smile forming on his lips.

And then at sixteen, you had heard Jay complain about losing his favourite pick somewhere in school, only for you to turn up some hours later with the pick in hand, saying that you found it on the desk of some girl in your class because she was boasting about having stolen it from the Park Jay.

“You’re too sweet, Y/N,” Jay’s mum said, grinning. “Is there anything you need now?”

“I’m good, Mrs Park, but thank you.” You shook your head, before bowing out of the conversation to join Jeonghyeon’s side again. Jay watched you bump his shoulder with a smile.

“Look after her, yeah? Clearly, she’s been through a lot.” Jay’s father approached him, patting his shoulder. 

Jay nodded. “I know, dad,” he said. “I’m trying. But we don’t share all classes.” It surprised him how bitter he sounded about it. That he couldn’t keep his eyes on you at all times. But there were many classes you had with Heeseung. 

And Jake.

The boy who had been dreamily staring at you this whole time while you mingled with the others. But they knew why. Every single time Jake would get lost at school, Jay, Heeseung and Sunghoon knew exactly where they would most likely find him (or preferably not).

“Maybe you could keep her company at the annual Sim family event for Jake. It’s coming, and I know neither of you boys usually bring dates. So take Y/N. Look after her,” Jay’s father suggested with a pointed look. It wasn’t a command, but Jay wished it had been because then he could ask you and pretend he didn’t want to.

“Yeah, dad, I will.”

But when Jay glanced at you again, laughing at something Jeonghyeon had said, he had to take a deep breath and tell himself that your face did not look angelic in the sunlight nor that your laugh was the loveliest song he had ever heard. Perhaps he could even will his guitar into repeating that exact same sound — no.

And maybe Miss Decelis would finally have something normal to say about him then, instead of constantly talking shit about his business. Seriously, calling his life sad? Who the fuck was this person to attack him like this? Had he done something to them?

It’s like now that they couldn’t attack you, they switched up to Jay and his lack of anything. But he blamed you for that. Most of his actions were driven by spite, and he could hardly be spiteful if you barely looked at him, could he? And it wasn’t his fault that he could not stop thinking of the day of Changbin’s party when he could quite literally see your boobs because your strap was falling off. Or the fact that he knew Heeseung did something shortly before even without Miss Decelis’ report.

He didn’t even realise you were standing in front of him until you spoke up. “Look, I know you don’t like me and whatever, but you don’t need to keep glaring at me,” you said, unimpressed. 

“I’m not glaring at you,” Jay responded with the same energy, looking you in the eye. “But are you going to Jake’s birthday party with someone?” he asked sarcastically, since the birthday party was more of a boast event for Jake’s parents to show off their amazing son.

“Uh, with Jeonghyeon and Hanbin?” you replied with a raised brow, confused as to why Jay would ask you this. And although Jay knew it was impossible for you to go with Jake as he was very much going to be a decorative doll tagging along with his parents the whole day, he was relieved you didn’t say he asked you to go with him. “I guess Hanbin said he’s going with some other friends, Sunoo and Jungwon? So maybe just Jeonghyeon… which also means Hee—”

“Go with me.” Jay didn’t let you finish the sentence. It made sense you would go with Jeonghyeon and Heeseung together since they were family, but Jay didn’t like to hear that either way. Whatever Heeseung’s deal with you was, Jay thought it would be better to keep you away from him. As far away as possible.

“Why?” Of course, you’d ask that.

“Because I said so.” Jay shrugged. “Is that so hard to understand?” He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, duh?”

“Just go with me, Y/N,” Jay sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had no proper explanation for why he wanted you to go. He could say his father ordered him to do so, but you would most certainly say no in that case. And he didn’t know what force in the world actually made him want you to say yes.

“And what will I get out of it?” you asked, crossing your arms. “I imagine you might finally get Miss Decelis to say something nice about you again, but what is in it for me?”

“A thank you?” Jay offered seriously. “For everything. Not just going with me, but also all that you’ve done for me in the past while trying to befriend me. Because I do remember every single thing. Especially last year, when you brought back my pick. Honestly, I wanted to thank you then, but I was just… too stunned to speak, you could say. I still have the pick you gave me, too, and the guitar.”

“Yeah, I’d bet  you wouldn’t throw that guitar away. It cost almost as much as a whole Porsche,” you scoffed.

But Jay ignored you, pulling out the pick you gave him when you were kids from his wallet instead. “And what about this? Why do you think I wouldn’t throw this away?” he asked, shaking his head. “Look, I’m sorry for being a dick, but you were so—”

“Perfect?” you supplied for him. “See, that’s the funny thing. I used to think that being perfect would make people like me, but instead, what I got was you and Heeseung being assholes, and being thrown into a pool. I don’t even know why I tried so hard.”

“It’s our nature to want to be liked,” Jay said wisely, shrugging. “I am sorry, though. I was petty, but not any less grateful about these things.” He placed the pick into your palm, wrapping your fingers around it.

“No, it’s yours, keep it.” You shook your head, returning it to Jay. “I don’t play the guitar, so it’s useless for me.”

“Right.”

“But sure, I’ll go with you if it makes you feel better,” you said, pursing your lips. “We can start over and all that. With me not being fake, and you being less petty over it.” A smile graced your lips, and Jay hated how pretty it made you look.

“Hey, Y/N, Jay! Come eat with us!” Jake called after the both of you, a raised brow aimed at you both in a silent question — what could you two possibly be talking about?

Jake was speechless. “You’re going to my birthday party with Jay?” he asked in front of your friends as you all sat at the Academy’s courtyard, trying to process the words that had left your mouth moments ago.

“He asked me,” you replied with a shrug. “Look, he started apologising for being a dick and I would’ve felt bad if I said no after that. He still had that pick I gave him as a kid.” The frown on your lips appeared against your volition. But when you gave it to him, you liked him. Out of the three boys, you liked Park Jay the most when you were kids. When you heard he liked playing the guitar from Jeonghyeon, giving him that dark green pick with your initials carved into it in the smallest letters was your best way of conveying that. And he still had that damned pick.

“Oh yeah, he carries it in his wallet,” Jake said knowingly as if he wasn’t trying to be angry that you agreed to go to an event celebrating him with a different guy.

In your defence, whatever you had with Jake wasn’t a defined relationship. You never asked what the two of you were, and you preferred it that way for the time being, because a relationship was the last thing you wanted. You still struggled with taking care of yourself, let alone having to share that with another person, even if that person would be Jake.

“What an interesting turn of events,” Ning hummed, a smirk permanently stuck to her face.

“I said it. Weird obsession with Y/N. Not surprising,” Jeonghyeon spoke, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, just because a guy doesn’t like you, doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to fuck you,” Ning added, which led to a glare from Jeonghyeon, and she giggled innocently. “Look, hate-sex is a thing. Fight me.”

“Whatever.” You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Even if I enter the building with Jay, it won’t change anything about the rest of the event. Jake’s parents plan far too meticulously for anything out of line to happen.”

“I mean, that is true. But I still don’t like it.” Jake pouted, and you cupped his cheeks, squishing them. His eyes softened as he gazed at you, turning to your friends. “Have you guys got your invitations already?”

“Yessir!” Ning saluted. 

“Cool.” Jake bit his bottom lip, turning to face you. “Me and the guys are planning an after party, so you should all come. My parents are not gonna suffocate me with unconditional praise forever, so I plan to sneak out, and y’all can just… leave on your own.”

“From your house?” Jeonghyeon asked with a raised brow, reminding everyone that the birthday event hosted by the Sims happened at the Sim residence. (Unexpectedly so.)

“Well, it’s a plan. I never said it was a logical one.” Jake deadpanned, and you had to remind yourself that Jeonghyeon and Jake have known each other as long as you have. The separation of your friend groups over the years really messed with your brain, so all of you speaking together now felt… a bit strange. But in a good way.

“Yoi, Jake, here you are.” Sunghoon approached your group. At first, he had tunnel vision on the blond boy only, but then he noticed you right next to him, and he smiled. “Oh, hey, Y/N.”

“We’re here too, you know,” said Jeonghyeon, rolling his eyes. But Sunghoon completely ignored him, and even Ning who intently glared at him for not greeting her either. Sunghoon didn’t even blink, keeping his attention on you and Jake only.

“What’s up, Hoon?” Jake asked, tilting his head to the side. It made him look so much like a golden retriever, you couldn’t help the grin that decorated your lips nor the warmth that spread through your chest.

“I need your help with my English assignment,” Sunghoon replied, not hiding the fact that he needed help. It was kind of a known fact that his English was not the best, which was why he didn’t share English class with you, Jake and Heeseung. Jay just didn’t want to bother with the higher level.

“Why don’t you ask Heeseung?” Jake raised a brow, not wanting to leave you.

“He’s not Australian.” Sunghoon blankly stared at Jake.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll help you,” Jake sighed, getting up from his seat. “Don’t forget what I told you guys, okay?” He gave Jeonghyeon, Ning and you one last look, adding a kiss to your temple before joining Sunghoon’s side.

As they left and you watched them, you wondered how come Jake was so unaffected by the tweet from Miss Decelis that came out not long after your first time together. Surely, it had to be weird between the guys if they were aware, right? But then again, Jake didn’t seem uncomfortable talking about or to Heeseung either.

You wanted to ask about it, but you weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer to that question.

Good morning, Decelis!

The annual Jake Sim party is almost upon us! Who’s excited? I already RSVP’d for the event, but did you?

XO, Miss Decelis

Being at Jay’s house on your own without anyone else accompanying you was weird. Usually, you wouldn’t step foot in here unless your parents were on your tail. But today, you were there, because your mum sent you here. Apparently, she had something to pick up from Mrs Park but couldn’t make the trip herself, so you were the one who was sent on a mission to the house.

But you clearly didn’t time your visit correctly because the person who opened the door for you was none other than Jay.

He smirked at the sight of you, his eyes roaming from head to toe before fixating on your own. Today, you didn’t bother wearing contacts, so your casual look with glasses on was back for a time being. It was the weekend, after all, and you had nobody to impress.

“Missed me?” Jay said a bit too confidently for your liking, and you scoffed, pushing him aside to enter his house without his permission.

“Is your mum here? She has something to give to my mum, apparently.” You looked around the hallway, but it was empty.

“Funny you asked,” Jay chuckled, “‘cause Mum gave it to me to give to you. Wait here, I’ll go get it. It’s in my room.”

You let out a sigh, looking around you again, not liking how eerie the hallway felt when it was so empty. Usually, whenever you were here, it was with other people, and that meant this house was bustling and full of chatter. Today, it seemed like the only person inside this house was Jay. Even the faint music playing from his room (probably) creeped you out.

“Or you can go with me,” he said, noticing the discomfort in your expression. “C’mon, it’s just some files for your mum, so it’s on my desk right now.”

Without thinking much about it, Jay took your hand in his and lightly tugged at it to get you to move. “You kinda get used to the emptiness when you live here long enough,” he added. “It’s nowhere near living in a penthouse inside a constantly packed hotel.”

“Yeah, it’s really not,” you said mindlessly, letting Jay pull you up the stairs to his bedroom. Your eyes fixated on the photos of Jay as a kid, doing all kinds of things. Cooking with his mum, playing the guitar while his dad played the piano. It was slightly different to the hall of fame dedicated to Jake at the Sim residence. And what you also noticed was the few photos that included you when you were younger, with Heeseung, Jay and Jake. You were trying to smile and be happy alongside Jake, but Heeseung and Jay had the fakest smiles possible plastered to their faces.

Your feet stopped moving then, firmly planted to the ground as you stared at the pictures for longer than was necessary. Jay had to stop with you. When he realised what you were looking at, he chewed on the inside of his cheek. Another thing to apologise for.

“If I’d known how much harder—”

“Don’t, Jay.” You shook your head, stopping him with your hand in front of his face. You softly yanked the hand that was locked with his out of his grasp and looked him in the eyes. Your stony expression spoke for itself. “I don’t like thinking about it.”

Jay pursed his lips and momentarily averted his gaze to the ground. He didn’t want you to see how guilty he felt about everything. Because he saw most of what had happened to you during the time when he was completely ignorant. When the principal found all the proof he needed to expel the people who caused you harm, your parents were brought in to see it for themselves. And when they told the other parents, Jay also found out. He didn’t tell either Heeseung, Jake or Sunghoon about it, but he knew.

The girls who bullied you kept videos of most of the things they’d done. Like spilling banana milk all over you. And the worst part was that Jay remembered the day when it happened. He knew you’d come to school in your uniform, but then spent the rest of the day in your P.E. clothes, and he never questioned why. Maybe he should’ve.

“Still—”

“There’s nothing more to say.” This time, you glared at him. The last thing you wanted was to be reminded of your past. Jay was definitely the last person you wanted to recall it with. He didn’t care then, and now it was too late to care. Besides, if you were to delve into it and he was actually trying to help you now, you’d just be more upset with him for the things he hadn’t done in the past. 

Closing his eyes, Jay nodded. “Right. Of course.”

“Let’s just get what I came here for so I can get out of your way as soon as possible,” you said with a sigh, pushing past Jay because you actually knew exactly where his room was. You never saw inside it, but you knew where it was from when you were a kid who just met him. It was the place you’d always wanted to step into, but were never allowed.

And a part of you, the old you, wanted to wait in front of the door and get Jay’s permission to enter first because that was the polite thing to do. It would also mean Jay’s approval. But there was no reason to care about it anymore. So you just opened the door to the room that was basically an equivalent of the Forbidden Forest for you.

The first thing you noticed was how big his room was. The next was the wall lined with expensive guitars as if the room was an instrument store. And third, the most important, was the guitar you had given him for his birthday when you were younger. It wasn’t on the wall with the other guitars. Instead, it hung right above his bed alongside a photo of all of you: the Parks, the Sims, the Lees, your family. You and the others had to position yourself on the ground so that your parents could all stand behind you, and it was the one photo where none of you looked miserable.

“Welcome to my room, I guess,” Jay said once he caught up to you, shoving his hands into his pockets. He didn’t want to show how nervous he was for you to see it. Maybe if he hadn’t remembered that your guitar was right above his bed, he wouldn’t have been, but… it was too late anyway.

You let out a huff, your eyes roaming the gaming setup Jay had. There was also a TV with PS4 and Xbox consoles and a Nintendo Switch laying around because why wouldn’t he have all of it?

“So, where’s the files?” you asked, glancing at him.

“Right.” Jay nodded, crossing the room. It was the plain black folder on his desk, but you didn’t want to assume and intrude more than you already have. You had some manners left in you, after all. “Here.”

You accepted the file with a grateful smile. “Thanks,” you said. “If that’s all, I’m gonna go.”

“Wait, Y/N.” Jay didn’t even know what he wanted to say. He just didn’t want this moment to be so awkward between you two. So he mindlessly grabbed your wrist to keep you in place and make you look at him. To look into his eyes.

“Yeah?” You bit your lip, and Jay followed the action a little too eagerly.

“Does everything have to be so awkward between us?”

“I’d argue that’s pretty much your fault,” you said casually, but it was the truth.

“I’m sorry.” Jay ran a hand through his hair.

“Stop apologising. It just makes it less genuine the more you do it. The words lose their weight.” You shook your head. “You know that saying about actions speaking louder than words? Maybe try to do that.”

Jay scoffed. “I can’t exactly go around threatening people the way Heeseung does,” he said, and you raised a brow at him.

“Of course not. Because he’s doing that for himself. Not for me,” you replied. “Maybe just try being my friend for once, Jay. An actual friend. We’ll see where that goes.”

Jay pursed his lips, nodding. “Okay…” he said. “I think I can do that.”

“So? Can I leave now?”

“Actually, Y/N, would you like to watch a movie with me?”

“What?”

“I’m bored.” Jay shrugged. “And the house’s gonna be empty for a few more hours.”

“And you don’t think I have plans?”

“Not in that outfit, you don’t,” Jay countered, examining your whole figure once more. But he was right. You would’ve probably watched movies at home by yourself anyway.

“Ugh, sure. Whatever,” you agreed.

“Action?” Jay asked, letting go of your wrist. He approached the TV in his room, looking at you quizzically.

“Yeah, I wanted to re-watch—”

“Captain America?” Jay cut you off, and your eyes widened. He was right. You did want to re-watch the Captain America movies. They were your favourites among the Marvel movies, and you could never get quite enough of Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

Tilting your head to the side, you asked, “How did you know—”

“Just because I pretended to ignore you, it doesn’t mean I didn’t actually listen.” He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t blame you for thinking that he wouldn’t know anything about you. Though the fact was that he probably knew a little too much for his own good. (Another reason why it angered him that he didn’t know about your bullies.) “And yes, I will put on The Winter Soldier,” he added, controller in hand.

You were speechless. But you didn’t ask this time.

How well did Park Jay actually know you?

So you were now friends with Jay. You and Jake were in a non-committed relationship — a situationship, if you will — and Heeseung was doing whatever it was that he was doing in regards to you. Which meant one very simple thing: people were now looking at you. Really looking at you. 

Which was convenient because your third resolution for the year was to become popular at school. This counted, right? At least among other things, anyway. 

People actually turned whenever you passed by, and while the attention wasn’t what you imagined, you still held your head high and walked forward as if there was nobody but you. One thing had been people’s initial shock over you being back, but now… they were judging again, and perhaps even more harshly than before.

Ugh. You just wanted to get to English class.

“If you let them know that you know they are watching, it’ll just make it worse,” Heeseung whispered in your ear. It startled you, jumping away from the boy who suddenly appeared by your side. 

“What the hell, Heeseung!” you scolded him, slapping his chest with your hand. A lopsided grin decorated his lips, and he knew he looked good at that moment. 

You wondered how many girls were at the receiving end of it before you.

“I’m just offering useful advice.” He shrugged, stepping closer to you. “I also wanted to talk to you, but you seem to avoid me like the plague.”

Your brow rose. “You’re the one still trying to pretend you don’t like me,” you said matter-of-factly, and he made a non-committal sound in response.  “Maybe that’s where you went wrong.”

“Maybe.” Heeseung nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. 

“What do you want?”

Humming, Heeseung smirked at you again. “Just wondering if you and Jake are exclusive and all that.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” You deadpanned. 

“He talks about you as if you were his girlfriend, I don’t think I have to know his side.” Heeseung clicked his tongue and shook his head. “So I wanna know what you think. Since you two clearly haven’t had that talk yet.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned to Heeseung and crossed your arms. “We did,” you said. “Literally right after Miss Decelis exposed that mistake I made inside Sunghoon’s car, by the way. If I’d known—”

“You’d still want it,” Heeseung said nonchalantly, laughing. Which sounded a lot like it was aimed at you. To mock you. “Wish we weren’t interrupted…” he mumbled, eyeing you.

“Out of everyone, I think I really hate you the most,” you said, reminiscing of your childhood alongside Heeseung. 

Why were you even trying so hard back then? With Jay, you’d always gotten the smallest snippets of hope whenever he looked slightly surprised and pleased despite trying to pretend he was not. But Heeseung had always been careless. Nothing mattered to him.

Heeseung’s brows furrowed, and he frowned. “No, you don’t,” he said. 

“Yes, I do,” you countered, glaring up at him.

And you hated what followed afterward even more, with Heeseung invading your personal space to claim your lips for himself. You hated the way your body reacted automatically, responding with just as much heat, your kisses matching his own.

You hated the way your hands roamed his broad shoulders until you had your fingers tangled in his hair, bringing him even closer to you. 

You hated the way your whole body sought him out, heart beating in your ears. The way you arched in an attempt to be pressed flat against his body, feeling the growing bulge between his legs on your stomach. Heeseung groaned into your mouth, and you swallowed the delicious sound, rubbing your thighs together. 

And then the spell was broken when the bell rang. 

People had been watching, and you realised that you were royally fucked.

Good morning, Decelis!

I’d like to say that Lee Heeseung might finally be marking his territory but… I fear a little birdie has told me that our lovely Y/N is going to the annual Sim Jake praising event with Park Jay.

It seems that our childhood friends have finally become… friends?

XO, Miss Decelis

Heeseung wanted to be pleased about what happened between you and him. He especially loved the way you squirmed under his gaze after the two of you made your way inside the English classroom, and Jake was right there. 

But they were featured on Miss Decelis the next morning, and he realised that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea with all the replies underneath the post.

He knew he shouldn’t care. He never cared before anyway. But this was you. And he couldn’t get past the nasty comments that called you an attention whore because you were taking advantage of everyone feeling sorry for you.

He hoped you didn’t read any of it. But he also knew you were basically a walking and talking Miss Decelis encyclopaedia.

Not the greatest way to start off the day of Jake’s birthday event. Especially knowing that your date was going to be Jay.

Jay.

They really were the most pathetic guys on the block. All it took was not seeing you or hearing from you the whole summer, and suddenly they both missed you and neither actually disliked you.

Jake loved any kind of attention, and you gave him plenty. It was enough for all three of them to suddenly become a whole mess of losers for you.

Maybe if Heeseung had Sunghoon’s resolve and simply didn’t talk to you, he’d be doing far better. But something told him that Sunghoon’s case was just a matter of time.

All these thoughts were going through the boy’s head as he stared at himself in the mirror, overthinking his outfit. It was simple, a suit tailored just for him without a tie. But perhaps it was too simple.

Jay and Jake were absolutely going to wear something in an attempt to impress you, and Heeseung was only lucky that Sunghoon couldn’t afford doing so. Unless his suit was going to come from your father’s pocket as another donation to the up-and-coming figure skating champion. 

Not even his Prada cologne felt like enough when he knew how excessive Jay’s collection was, and how he always had a specific scent for each event, and how good his colognes actually were. 

Why was he even overthinking this stupid event? It never mattered to him that you were in attendance. Because you would always try to approach him to at least say hi and start any kind of conversation. Which he would cut off very early on. Your dejected pout gave Heeseung a twisted sense of accomplishment whenever he watched you leave. But the reason behind why changed over the years.

At first, he just liked watching you suffer because he, as a very young idiotic kid, thought you were making him suffer. But then, when he was old enough, he kept thinking — and refusing to acknowledge that those were his thoughts in the first place — if you would have that exact same pout during sex when he’d forbid you from cumming. 

Heeseung groaned when he felt his cock harden, and he hated that the mere thought of you did that to him. Especially when you were fucking Jake… of all of them, you chose Jake. 

Running a hand through his hair, Heeseung bit his lower lip. What was he supposed to do about you? Because somehow, you made him feel clueless, and he’d never felt that before. 

“I’m not gonna ask.” 

Heeseung startled when his cousin entered his bedroom without knocking. 

Jeonghyeon looked Heeseung in the eyes through the mirror instead of laying his gaze literally anywhere else, intently holding the eye contact.

“The fuck you want?” Heeseung said indignantly, walking away from the mirror, hiding his boner out of his cousin’s sight. 

“We’re heading out,” Jeonghyeon replied nonchalantly. “But I also wanted to talk to you for a bit,” he added, keeping Heeseung stuck in place, although he couldn’t exactly go quite yet, either. 

“What now?” Heeseung rolled his eyes. 

“Stay away from Y/N,” Jeonghyeon spoke plainly, straight to the point. He did not want you to get hurt, and knowing Heeseung, exactly that was going to happen. 

Heeseung scoffed, licking his lips. “Funny. But no, thanks. You’re not my mother.”

“No, but I’m your cousin. And I’m Y/N’a best friend. The last thing she needs is your pathetic little ass to hurt her more than you already did in the past… So stay the fuck away.”

“I’m guessing neither Jay or Jake got this cute speech of yours?” Heeseung’s brow rose. 

“They don’t need it. Jake was always good to Y/N, and I talked to Jay. He, unlike you, is actually sorry and wants to make shit up to her… and, oh, did I mention he’s not trying to get in her pants?”

“Boo-hoo, if you really think that, then you know jackshit about Jay.”

“All I need to know is that he’s better than you,” said Jeonghyeon. 

Heeseung’s jaw clenched, and he clicked his tongue. “Was that necessary?”

“Very.” Jeonghyeon nodded. “At least Jake and Jay know what it means to care. Maybe once you acquire that skill, we can have this talk again. But until then, just stay away.”

“Jeonghyeon!” Your voice carried through the corridor as you called after Heeseung’s cousin. “Where are you guys, we’re about to leave without both of you dumbasses.” You approached Jeonghyeon, peering through the door into Heeseung’s room.

A very plain room at that. Just like his outfit. Its main attractions were the bed, the gaming setup and his showcased collection of mechanical keyboards — which he had put together himself (!) with his own hands. But that still left a large empty space in the middle of the room. Jake and Sunghoon had joked about being able to play Twister in it way too many times by now. 

You, on the other hand, were the exact opposite of plain. Your dress was gold, glittery and tight, hugging your curves and stopping at your mid-thighs. Last year, he would’ve made a remark about you looking like a golden disco ball, but he dared not say anything now. Last year, you wouldn’t even fight him on it and simply glare; but this year, you looked like you would have no issue coming up to him and slapping him for being rude. 

Not to mention this year, Heeseung wasn’t afraid to admit that he would love to tear that dress off you. He craved feeling your heated skin under his touch again, and you being within reach so often did not make it any easier for him. 

“Heeseung has a bit of a problem right now, so I think he’ll take a while,” said Jeonghyeon, smirking when he saw the mortified expression on Heeseung’s face. “You and Jay can probably go ahead anyway. Is he taking you in his car?”

“Yeah.” You smiled softly. Because, yeah — that’s fucking right — you and Jay were now friends. Heeseung had to hold in the annoyed groan.

But at least this reminder served like a nice, ice cold bucket of water being poured over him, dealing with the little problem in his crotch area. 

He was ready to go. 

“I’ll see you guys at Jake’s.” You grinned with a small adorable wave aimed at — strangely enough — both him and Jeonhyeon. 

Except, unlike Heeseung, Jeonghyeon received a kiss on the cheek which you had to lift yourself up on your tiptoes for and he had to slightly bend down in the knees. 

Then you were gone with a wink. 

“Stop glaring at me, dickhead,” Jeonghyeon said. “She tried to be your friend. It’s not my fault you’re stupid.”

This time, Heeseung let out the indignant and frustrated groan that had been building. He ran a hand over his face. 

“Let’s just go.”

Sim Jake did not hate his birthday per se, but it was fair to say he wasn’t fond of it. Well, he would be if he was allowed to simply spend the day with his friends, but that wasn’t possible with his parents.

They didn’t care that all Jake really wanted to do was to be stuck by your side, maybe steal a kiss or two, and call that his best birthday ever. His parents needed to have a whole house party to show everyone — over and over again — the photos and diplomas and medals that Jake had acquired through his 18 years of living. Maybe if it hadn’t come to him so naturally, his parents wouldn’t be so adamant at showing him and his achievements off. But here he was. 

Watching his parents and staff run around the house as the last finishing touches were being done for the first guests to arrive. 

Jake was stuffed in a dark blue tailored suit his parents forced him into getting done, the material tight and soft on his skin. He hated how stuffed it made him feel, especially with everything going on around him. 

He was just excited to see you again. As if he hadn’t texted you minutes ago or saw you yesterday. It was something he realised recently — that he sought you out wherever he went. Jake would always sport the largest grin in your presence, loving to make you smile. Your laugh was a virus he kept catching, and he lived for those moments when he would tease you and you’d scrunch your nose and lightly hit his chest or shoulder. 

To him, it wasn’t just about those intimate moments he shared with you, but also your friendship and how much he’d grown to like you over the past few months. It was different when he barely knew you and the two of you acknowledged each other from time to time. This was about your shared love for superhero movies and the way you laughed softly and cooed whenever you saw Jake’s enormous Lego collection, saying it made you like him even more. 

He wanted to make you love him, but it seemed that the exact opposite happened instead.

So it wasn’t wrong of him to feel a bit upset, if not jealous, about you coming to his birthday event with Jay, right? (He tried to pretend nothing ever happened between you and Heeseung these days, too.)

Running a hand through his hair, Jake made his way to the foyer where he would be tasked with greeting all the guests. It was about time for the event to start, and the first ring of the bell signalled just that.

Jake sighed, opening the door.

“Hi! Happy birthday!” you greeted the boy enthusiastically, wrapping your arms around his neck. And then you pulled away and left a big wet kiss on his cheek, which left a faint pink print of your lips from your lip gloss. “This is the first time I’m here this early,” you remarked with a smile, gazing at Jake. 

“Hey, man.” Jay’s hug was less warm and he patted Jake’s shoulder. A bright contrast to your crushing embrace.

“Hi.” Jake smiled at both of you, nodding. “You’re the first one’s here, so feel free to go wild at the buffet while everything’s stacked.”

“Will do!” you said, saluting. “Will probably need it to survive the day anyway. Just remind me I have a big gift for you, Jake.”

Jay deadpanned, glancing at you. “What? Are you letting him fuck your ass or something?”

“Pervert?” you said, hitting Jay’s chest. But there was a light-hearted smile on your lips. “You’re just jealous.”

“Am I? I didn’t notice,” Jay replied. But it was a big fat lie. Jake saw Jay’s ears redden with the lie, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that knowledge. Should he be surprised? Probably not. 

Of course, he wanted you. He’d be stupid not to. Fucking MILFs was never going to last anyway. Not when you were right here, and you were perfect. Then there was Heeseung. And Jake saw the photos from yesterday.

Heeseung and Jake had shared too many girls to count by now, but with you, he wanted to be selfish. He would’ve preferred to have you all to himself, but he was scared of making the next step. What if you rejected him because you didn’t want a real relationship? Was he even ready for a relationship?

He never was in one to begin with. Neither of them have. Never had they before become serious with a girl. It had always been casual fucks, usually not more than once with the same girl except for some special cases; and now there was you. For Jake, at least, there was you.

How was he supposed to act around a girl who made him inexplicably happy?

“Find me if you’re bored, Jakey. I’ll be around with Jay, I guess.” You glanced at the slightly taller boy with feigned annoyance, and Jay rolled his eyes.

“You could’ve just said no.”

“But that’s no fun.” You grinned. 

Fuck, Jake was down bad for you.

You were true to your word and stuck around Jay even when your friends arrived. It was almost as if you could sense his discomfort when he wasn’t with his group of friends. You were always quick to take hold of a conversation whenever someone approached you, usually to speak to you about what had happened. That was when Jay would step in and keep you from reliving your past memories because unlike with him, you couldn’t exactly tell these strangers to shut up.

The least he could do was be short with those people for you. Because despite everything, you were still trying to keep the perfect image around your parents’ associates. At school, nothing mattered anymore, but at events like these? They all had to pretend to be the pliant little dolls raised by their successful parents.

But it was hard to even be here. For Jay, at least, since all he could think about when he saw you in your dress was what it would look like on the ground — which he was really disgusted with himself for, by the way. He just managed to establish a solid friendship with you, and all he could think of was whether the moans you made whenever you tasted something really good would be the same when he tasted your pussy.

God, he needed to get it together.

You were hooking up with Jake. And the three — no, four — of them promised each other they would not try to sleep with the same girl nearly half a year ago. It was part of their history that neither was very proud of, and Miss Decelis had a feast of the four of them once it was found out. But realistically, it wasn’t their fault that the girl couldn’t keep up with all of them.

Maybe you could.

You snapped your fingers in Jay’s face with your eyes narrowed at the boy in disapproval. “Could you not undress me with your eyes in public? It’s inappropriate as hell, and if you haven’t forgotten, it’s Jake’s birthday.”

“Why don’t you go to him and suck him off if you care so much?” Jay retorted, internally cringing at himself. Why would he even suggest that? You might actually do it, and he was not—

“You’re right, I should,” you hummed. Licking your lips, your eyes easily found Jake in the crowd with his parents, speaking to an elderly pair that kept touching Jake’s hair and cheeks and shoulders with large smiles while he looked mildly uncomfortable. “He looks like he needs saving. And a break.”

“Y/N, I wasn’t serious.” Jay ran a hand through his hair, and you tilted your head to the side.

“Does it matter? Jokes aside, today is Jake’s birthday, and he deserves to enjoy at least a tiny bit of this bullshit event before we all get lost,” you said, nodding to yourself as confirmation of your own logic. And Jay couldn’t claim you were wrong because he knew better than anyone how much Jake hated this annual event.

“You’re right, but, Y/N—”

“Can you look after my phone?” You handed the device that had been practically stuck in your hand since you arrived over to Jay. “I’ll find you later. Pretty sure I could find you anywhere just by the smell. It’s actually really good,” you said with a smile, and Jay wanted to be proud of picking the right cologne, but once he accepted your phone, you were already halfway through the room to approach Jake.

Jake was one hell of a lucky bastard.

Jay sighed, ready to put your phone away in his pocket when it lit up with a new notification. Which would be nothing special had he not seen the user above the Twitter notification. A new message from a random user meant for the eyes of everyone once it got relayed.

It was a DM for Miss Decelis.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking.”

“Was that my birthday gift?” Jake stared at you through dazed eyes, his voice breathless. He sat at the edge of his bed while you got up from your spot on the floor to nestle on his lap, his cock still hard and covered in saliva.

“That would be a terrible birthday gift,” you replied, moaning when you felt Jake’s hardness against your clothed cunt. Jake adjusted his hips, forcing another whimper out of you, and you cupped his cheeks to make him look in your eyes. “Stop moving, Jake, or we’ll never leave this bedroom,” you breathed out, and he just lazily grinned at you in response.

“Maybe I don’t want to leave,” he replied, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer. “Oh fuck, I want to feel you now,” he groaned, restraining himself from doing anything else for you.

“It’s not— oh— the time yet,” you whispered, barely thinking coherent thoughts with Jake’s dick between your legs, though not the way the two of you wanted it to be. “Later, you can get anything you want, Jakey.”

“Anything?” he repeated, biting his lip. One of his hands slipped underneath your dress, his digits sneaking their way inside your panties.  

“Mhmm,” you hummed, pleasure striking your whole body as Jake’s fingers began circling your clit. Your lips attached to Jake’s while he worked his magic on you, but he pulled away, biting at your lower lip.

“I want words, baby. A weak hum is not a yes,” he said, his movements becoming harsher and faster.

“Fuck, Jake, yes,” you cried out, your orgasm coming quickly. It was weak, but there wasn’t much to expect from just his fingers atop your clit. But you didn’t want to give yourself to him just yet. It wasn’t time, as you said. Not this early in the evening. He still had guests to please and parents to appease.

“I want to take this dress off you so bad,” Jake mumbled against your shoulder, his lips trailing to your clavicle. 

“Later.” You smiled when his mouth made it back to yours, hands tangled in his blonde locks at the back of his head. 

“I hate that word,” Jake whispered. “But thank you anyway,” he added, finally coming to peace with the fact that this moment had to end because you were right, and his parents were waiting for him.

You smiled, getting off his lap to stand. Adjusting your dress back to its place, you gazed at Jake and his still hard cock. “I’ll leave first. Give you time to recover,” you teased, pointing at his crotch. “Always remember you’re pretty, and that everyone is here to talk your ego all the way up to heaven.”

Bending down, you connected your lips with Jake’s one last time before heading toward the door. “Maybe later we can ditch your afterparty and just go to my house. While my parents are stuck here with yours.”

Jake chuckled, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth as he tended to do out of habit rather than to purposely flirt. “I don’t think the others will let us do that,” he said and shook his head. 

You groaned, your hand on the handle. “Well, we’ll see about that.” With a grin you disappeared out of Jake’s view, leaving him alone in his bedroom while you barely made a step into the corridor when someone grabbed you roughly by the wrist.

“We need to talk.” Jay’s tone was curt as he dragged you by the arm into the nearest guest bedroom.

He locked the door behind the both of you, clutching your phone in hand as he loomed over your figure with a scathing glare. It occurred to you that you completely forgot to turn your notifications off.

You were used to being alone at these events, always stuck to your phone, so you didn’t need to turn them off unless you were at school and around friends. But you gave your phone to Jay without a second thought. Without thinking about what he could see.

“It’s you,” he spat, holding the phone up to your face. 

He lit it up with a touch, opening the string of new notifications, each filled with texts and photos from anonymous sources, feeding you with hourly gossip about Decelis Academy students.

But before the mortification set in, you wondered why it was Jay who was mad at you. Because the whole reason behind you becoming Miss Decelis was because of how he and Heeseung treated you. It was your tiny payback, merely making sure nobody could suspect you for focusing on just a specific group of people. 

“Why?” Jay asked, stepping closer to you, invading your personal space. You tried to back away, but the moment your body hit the cool wooden door, there was nowhere to run.

And Jay was right in your face. 

“Yeah, why?” you questioned back, narrowing your eyes at him. “Why would I start an anonymous gossip blog in freshman year when I was sure everyone hated me?” 

Instead, you leaned in, pushing the phone out of your face. Perhaps you should’ve cared more about Jay dropping it on the ground, but if he was angry, then you were furious. Clenching your jaw, you met Jay’s gaze with fire blazing behind your eyes. 

“Why would I make something that tried to humble you and the rest of the guys when all I’ve ever gotten from you was your dismissal? And ‘cause of what? Because I wasn’t pretty enough for your standards? Because I was annoying? Because I liked you and you were disgusted by it?”

The last sentence wasn’t supposed to ever be spoken out loud, but when you were fifteen, it was one of your biggest insecurities. You liked Jay, and he wanted nothing to do with you, no matter how hard you tried to be his friend. And with the girls who set out to make your life a living hell, of course you thought that the reason behind Jay’s dislike for you was your looks and your awkwardness and the fact he was disgusted by you.

Miss Decelis wasn’t just a way to shoot some of the popular people down a peg. It was also created as your way of venting all of your biggest insecurities by speaking them aloud as Miss Decelis. In a strange way, it was your way of coping with your life. 

 Jay’s eyes widened, looking like you struck him in the face.

When he spoke next, it was like you never said anything. Like he didn’t just discover your secret second identity. All he could hear was your angry confession about liking him. 

“Why?” he asked again, but this time, it wasn’t about Miss Decelis. “Why did you like me?”

“That’s not the point,” you sighed and moved away. You wanted to escape, but Jay’s arms shot up, trapping you by the door on each side. “Jay—”

“Why, Y/N?” he asked again. In eighteen years, he had received many confessions of fancy. But it was always through cutesy letters in his locker or notes passed in class, unless they were brave enough to approach him and try to flirt with him. But those girls never had a proper reason to like him. 

“Because I’m not blind!” you exclaimed in exasperation, trying to push against Jay’s chest. He caught your arms by the wrists to keep you in place. Locking his eyes on you, he refused to let go until he had his answer. 

“You hated me,” you said defeatedly, hands going limp as you acknowledged that you were not strong enough to fight Jay. “But I saw the way you cared for other people. And sometimes me, whenever our parents were around. You would always look out for Heeseung and Jake when they messed around the pool when we were kids. And then you started helping the parents with barbecues and you always made sure that Heeseung and Jake got the biggest portions because they love samgyeopsal. You even cooked ramyun for them whenever our parents refused to make more because they already had five whole packs together.” You paused, remembering your childhood, when life was a little bit easier. “And I really liked listening to you playing guitar. It always fascinated me how good you were. And the adoration you had for the instrument. That’s why—”

“You gave me the pick,” Jay finished for you, and you nodded.

“That’s why I gave you the pick.”

“I always thought you were too perfect to be true,” Jay chuckled, shaking his head. “But you’re probably the stupidest person I’ve ever met.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in a silent question. 

“Because you liked me despite the way I treated you. No sane person would do that.” 

“When have I given you the impression that I’m sane?” Your brow rose challengingly, but instead of replying, Jay cupped your cheeks, bringing your mouth to his as if he didn’t know that you just gave his best friend a blowjob. 

Jay had gone insane.

He sought you out after finding out you were Miss Decelis to be angry with you. To confront you. You were the one shit-talking him on the blog for the past few months, and he was supposed to tear you a new one.

What he wasn’t supposed to do was kiss you when he literally found you leaving Jake’s room.

What he wasn’t supposed to do was let you wrap your legs around his hips while he secured your body with his hands on your ass, carrying you over to the bed inside the guest room he locked the two of you in.

He wasn’t supposed to do many things, yet here he was.

Going insane because of you.

“I never hated you,” Jay whispered against your skin as his lips moved from your mouth to your cheek, your jaw, your neck and lower, still. “What I hated was the stupid act you put up,” he said, not hesitating to unzip your dress. 

“It was a dumb act,” you agreed with a hum that turned into a moan when Jay’s mouth found your nipple, working quickly at getting your clothes off. Not that it was hard when all you wore was the golden dress and lace panties. You ran your fingers through Jay’s hair as he continued his assault on your skin, constantly moving lower while he slipped the dress off you alongside your drenched panties. 

You smelled heavenly. Jay didn’t even care that some of it was likely residue of your moment with Jake. You were with him now, and clearly wanted him as much as he did you. 

What could he do with you, but have you in ways he couldn’t dream of before?

Jay gripped your thighs, pulling them apart as he took a proper look at your beautiful pussy. He licked his lips, and when your head rose to glance at him, your eyes were drunk with lust. “You want me to taste you?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you replied instantaneously, nodding your head like a madwoman. “Please, Jay,” you whispered, your hands reaching for him. 

Jay smirked, positioning you at the edge of the bed so he could have the best access possible from his spot by the bed, his hooded eyes drunk on the sight of you. Naked and defenceless and so perfect, not like when you pretended, but actually perfect — with all your imperfections. 

You were a petty little creature. You created a whole blog just to shit-talk Jay, Heeseung and others because they were making your life more difficult than it needed to be. 

“I don’t know if you deserve it.” He watched you squirm as you looked up at him through your lashes, your lips twisting into an adorable furious pout. 

“After everything you put me through, this is the least I deserve,” you mumbled, glaring at him. But you reminded him of those cute angry kitty memes more than anything else, and he smirked. 

Jay hummed, leaning in to kiss your pretty lips, his tongue swiping across your clit. It elicited a beautiful sound out of your mouth. A moan worthy of his neverending devotion. But he couldn’t give you everything so easily. 

Your gasp reverberated through the room when Jay bit down on your clit, and your hands shot up into his hair to pull at it in an attempt to get him away. But he wasn’t letting go.

“Jay, holy shit.” You bit down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from screaming, letting the twisted pleasure warm your tummy. Brain going hazy, you could barely fight him. 

Not when he kept switching between licking your clit and lapping up all your wetness, and then biting again as if he was a vampire trying to feed. Your pussy sucked Jay’s tongue right in, and your orgasm was inevitable the longer it went on.

“You’re so fucking delicious,” Jay mumbled, staring up at you and your arched back. He had to work to keep your legs apart so you wouldn’t squish his head between your thighs. But at least his regular gym visits with Sunghoon were worth something. 

“Jay, I’m—” you whimpered, unable to finish your sentence when Jay thrusted his tongue as deep inside you as he could, your pussy vibrating with the pleased hum he let out. 

“So good for me,” he said. “You’ll feel amazing on my dick,” he claimed, sporting a huge tent in his trousers, humping air in a feeble attempt to bring some pleasure for himself. But your sounds alone could probably make him cum. 

“Jay!” you exclaimed one last time when ecstasy shot through you, and you tugged at Jay’s hair with enough strength to pull some out. He continued to eat you out as you rode your high off, drinking every bit of your release as if it was a drug, and he was an addict that could not get enough.

Before you even recovered, Jay was already up on his feet, speedily taking his clothes off. His jacket, shirt, tie, trousers. All pieces of clothing disappeared within a blink of your eyes, and then all you could see was Jay’s pulsating cock with precum leaking from the head. 

You brought out an incredibly needy part of Jay out of him, and it made you even hotter, more beautiful to him. Jay lifted you once more to adjust your positions on the bed to fit the both of you while he crawled over you, lust-filled eyes meeting yours.

“Tell me what you want, darling, and I’ll take care of you,” he said, and you closed your eyes to drink the moment in.

“I want you,” was all you said in response. 

Just him. 

That was all you needed. 

Park Jay. The boy you had liked when you were younger. 

So you connected your lips, tasting yourself on Jay’s tongue. He groaned when his cock made contact with your stomach, and your hands roamed his body until you reached his hard cock. Your thumb swiped across the head, drawing a moan out of Jay, and you smirked against his lips, guiding him toward your entrance.

“This is all I want,” you said again, teasing yourself with his cock, his eyes already half closed at the tiniest bolts of pleasure. 

So when Jay finally thrusted inside of you, rougher than he should’ve, you whimpered while his lips captured yours again, letting you adjust to his size. You were so warm and so wet, ready just for him. 

He closed his eyes, testing how comfortable you were as he moved his hips the slightest bit. You moaned, back arching to let him go even deeper, to find the spot that would drive you over the edge. And he complied, pulling out slightly before going in again, deeper. He groaned when your walls clenched around him. 

“So perfect,” he mumbled, letting you cling to him like your whole life depended on it.

“Jay,” you whined, “I need you to move faster.”

He smirked. But your word was his command, complying mindlessly. Jay began moving, picking up his pace gradually until all that could be heard inside the bedroom were the skin-on-skin contact, the squelching sound of your wetness, your moans, and Jay’s pants. 

He was drunk on you, not thinking of anything else but the need to pleasure you. To give you the best sex of your life. To ruin you.

“Jay, I’m s-so close,” you managed between laboured breaths, reaching for his lips with yours. It made him go even faster, chasing his own release. “Jay, Jay, Jay!” you screamed, your whole body convulsing with the orgasm that nearly blinded you.

It was the loveliest sound Jay had ever heard, and he almost forgot to pull out as he stared at your spent figure underneath him. But he did, his hand already working on finishing the job as he pulled away from you.

But you didn’t like that. You lifted yourself up on your elbows and then went to your knees, putting your hand over Jay’s. 

“Let me,” you said, licking your lips.

It was confusion that kept Jay from stopping you as you guided his hand away. And then your lips were making contact with the head of his cock. Only a little peck at first. Then your mouth wrapped around it, and before he could even process anything else, you had his dick as deep inside your throat as possible, using your hand to take care of whatever didn’t fit. 

Jay lasted what felt like five seconds before he cummed inside of your mouth as you stared up at him with an innocent glint in your eye. 

He blamed it on the shock of you giving him a blowjob out of your own volition. And in this case, whatever you and Jake were doing, Jay was grateful for all that Jake must’ve taught you.

You swallowed his load, eyes never leaving his, and the two of you collapsed on the bed together, spent but willing to go a second time. 

“So, you’re Miss Decelis.” Jay laughed at the fact. You were never actually perfect. You just hid the other side of you behind an anonymous profile. 

“Are you going to tell anyone?” you asked, turning to lie on your side and stare at Jay’s side-profile. It always fascinated you. He was gorgeous, and his jawline was unreal. 

“Are you going to keep calling me boring?” he turned to face you, brow raised. 

“Maybe if you hook up with another MILF, I’ll stop,” you joked, but Jay deadpanned, pressing his lips in a thin line. 

“You do realise we just had sex, right?” Jay said matter-of-factly, and you hummed. 

“Is it any different to your other casual hook-ups?” you asked nonchalantly, and Jay hated how constricted his chest felt at your words. 

You were probably right. It shouldn’t be any different. But it was. He wanted this again. He wanted you again. And it dawned on him that he had lost his chance years ago. You said it yourself: you used to like him. 

And when the afterparty with just you, your friends and the guys came around, Jay had to watch you be wrapped all around Jake again.

Because, yeah… it was his birthday.

tags: @strxwbloody @starsenha @mitmit01 @chaconadine @in-somnias-world @tmtxtf @missychief1404

[friendlyrandomperson]

I’m Jonesing to get to know you.

“C’mon Bea, he really was just askin’ a—“

“He is BEAing rude to our sister!!!”

“This is a frantastic opportunity to meet Julie’s friends. Hopefully they are more colorful than Frank, although he is quite nice company.”

“Well… I have been Jonesin’ to meet them all outside o’ the radio.”

——————————————🌱🐛————————————

Oh, no.

“You are BEAing quite rude—“

“Well MAYBE—“

The voices fade into the background, and Jonesy finds himself standing awkwardly beside his sisters, fiddling with his thumbs.

“I.. I’m gonna go find Ju—“

“Howdy, just what is-“

“GO AWAY LATTER!”

The yellow man’s antennas flatten immediately, followed by his top two hands coming up to his face and muffled sobs coming through them. The man sprints out, tripping over one of his legs and scrambling away in humiliation faster than anyone could respond.

Jonesy scoots towards the door slowly, leaving without another word as his sisters, mainly Bea, berate the green caterpillar for his cruel behavior.

His hair gets caught in the door, much to his embarrassment but unnoticed by the bickering group, and he opens the door, wiggling his hair out and fluffing it a little as he walks away.

Jonesy has always had good hearing; He helped his sisters start training their musical abilities, making sure they were in-tune and playing the right things at the right times. As the oldest, his parents praised him for always being there for his little sisters. First to respond, last to sleep.

It wore him down, he will never admit it. He loves his sisters, all three, but he lived his life worrying himself sick, both in the literal and figurative sense.

In the literal sense, he never relaxed, never took a day to rest. Simply said he was “tryin’ somethin’ new to go with the tunes” to excuse his harsh, scratchy voice or his low, slurred speech. He hoped his sisters never caught on.

He was the first to respond if any of them cried as a child, waking up at the slightest whimper or sniffle. He’s quite the light sleeper.

So detecting cries from the woods was as easy as breathing.

He walks into the greenery carefully, each footstep dancing around flowers with a small, meek “Sorry” or “Sorry ‘bout that”.

Following the sound took him deeper and deeper into the trees, the evening light trickling through like golden streamers as the minutes passed by.

Sniff, sniff.

“Uhh, ‘ello?”

Gasp.

“Oh no, oh no no no…”

“Anyone— oh! ‘Ey, it’s alright, just me, ain’t cha… roommate? Uhh… what’s uh.. what’s-his-face… Howdy to ya?”

The yellow puppet curls in on himself, hiding his face in his top hands once more, his purple and yellow antennas pressed onto his hair, his beret discarded to his right.

“‘Ey now, it’s alright.. I’m Jonesy, Jonesy Joyful. You’re… ahh, you’re Ladder, right?”

Sniff.

“Snrk I’m- I’m Latter. Latter Pi- Pillar..”

Jonesy chuckles as he sits down on his knees in front of Latter.

“Latter, eh? You the youngest?”

“N-No, I’m actually the old- sniff oldest.”

“Really? I am too! Three younger sisters. How many siblings do you have?”

“Only hic three? I have fifteen!”

Jonesy blinks repeatedly, pressing his pointer and middle fingers against his head and rubbing them in circles.

“I must be hearing things, did you just say you have fifteen siblings? And you’re the oldest?”

Jonesy had a rough time dealing with three little sisters, but five times the amount? Absolutely unthinkable.

“Heh… it’s not that bad… Howdy’s the middle child, I feel bad for him…”

“Howdy’s that shopkeeper guy. Why do you feel bad for ‘im?”

“Well, if you can’t tell, he never got his wings.”

Latter wipes his eyes and wraps his top arms around his knees, hugging his legs closer with all four of his arms.

“Genetics. He’s not proud of it. I think it hurts more since we’re from a family of early bloomers.”

Jonesy laughs gently, shaking his head as he crawls over, closer to Latter. The monster picks up Latter’s beret and places it back onto the caterpuppet’s head softly, patting it a few times before sitting where the beret had once been.

“My little sisters were the same way before they got their music.”

“Music?”

“Heh, yeah dude! Rainbow Monsters get music when they get old enough!”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well… let me put it this way—“

So, for hours, the two sat and chat, at first, each describing their species’ versions of puberty, what changes they bring, how it helps them.

Soon it grew more… personal.

Sharing experiences of responsibilities stacked onto their shoulders. Experiences of not sleeping because they heard every cry, every call, no matter how small.

“I suppose my name fits… I’m always “The Latter”. Heh, my brother’s better with puns.”

“Hey now, I think you’re pretty funny!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’ve been crackin’ jokes all day long!”

Latter’s wings and heart begin to buzz, a soft hum against the ambience of crickets and wind rushing through the trees.

“I guess you could say I’m Jonsin’ to hear more ‘bout ya, Latter.”

Beneath his long emerald hair, Jonesy’s smile grew wider with the pun he made, his cheeks beginning to hurt and slowly grow warm.

The wind blew around the two, Latter’s wings and Jonesy’s hair swaying gently as they remained silent.

“You wanna head back to the Neighborhood or stay out here for a little while longah?”

“I think I’ll choose the latter.”

[twignotstick]

Broken Brothers (and How to Fix Them)

Part 3 💜 | Part 1 <- 🧡 | Part 2 <- 💙

Note: This story is based on @cupcakeslushie 's Empyrean Weeping au. These characters are not my own, and this story is in no way canon to the main story. I wrote this as my love letter to the story and the characters. Especially April :)

Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Donnie & April, April & the Turtles, NOT MY CHARACTERS, Empyrean Weeping AU, recovery (hehehehehe), talking it out because we're adults, skating, social avoidance? idk how to tag that

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): yelling, some violent actions

Words: 2,065

Summary: April was able to figure out her first brother easily. Now, she gets three more, with a couple more issues to worry about.

----------------------

One brother was already a lot. He was sweet, if a little violent. April was content with one brother.

Then she found out he had two more. Lost in their youth, taken away, never to be seen again. Suddenly, one wasn't enough. April wanted three brothers.

So she got them. One by one, she welcomed her new brothers into their home. She helped them feel safe and welcomed. And, in turn, they helped her learn her place as a big sister.

Now, four? Four whole brothers? That was pushing it.

Donnie was a wild card. Some days, he'd bounce around madly, blabbering about whatever “improvements” he'd made in the lair (always putting Splinter on edge, yet he could never find any problems with whatever Donnie did, probably because his brothers did damage control before he could catch it). Other days, he'd literally hiss at April until she left. Not just left the lair; left the sewers.

This day was supposed to be one of those days. Donnie was visibly shaking with all the pent up energy in him. The brothers had apparently had an “intervention” with Donnie after the previous night, when he had almost broken a major support beam in the lair just so he could collapse it on April. Now, he wasn't allowed to show violence to April in any form for a whole week. In exchange, he'd be allowed to take a single blood sample from each of his brothers, which was the weirdest trade April had ever heard. But Donnie really wanted it.

And boy, was it hard for him.

“Did you see that?! Did you see? I totally landed that one!” Mikey yelped, shaking on his skateboard.

“Good job, big man.” Raph stepped up beside him, lightly touching Mikey's shoulder and making his eyes widen as he tried to maintain his balance.

Mikey had been wanting to practice his skate tricks, and Raph wanted to make sure he did it in a safe environment. The skate ramp in the lair was perfect. Even if they were just practicing kickflips at the bottom, it was safe and contributed to good vibes.

While Raph and Mikey stood at the bottom, April, Leo, and Donnie sat at the top with their legs dangling beneath them. Well, April and Leo's legs were dangling. Donnie was perched up like a frog, knees thrown out to the sides and his hands curled on the edge of the ramp. Leo, of course, was between him and his self proclaimed mortal enemy, absorbing as much murderous intent as he could. It was a lot, to put it nicely.

“Do you think he'll ever actually get to use the ramp?” Leo asked, enjoying the spectacle of his youngest brother getting properly babied by his oldest.

“Four is definitely tough enough to survive a fall from this height,” Donnie responded cheerily. “His shell is the best of all of us. A human, on the other hand, would likely get severely injured if they were to be shoved off the edge.” His face grew the slightest grin at the imaginary violence.

“Watch the language.” Leo raised a brow to Donnie. “And it's Mikey, remember? Not Four.”

“R-right!” Donnie stammered, patting his hands on the side of the ramp. “Four is Mikey.”

“No, Mikey is Mikey. His name isn't Four, and it never was. Just like my name isn't Two, Raph's name isn't One, and your name isn't Three. You're our brother. Donatello.”

Leo was getting slightly agitated, and Donnie- or maybe Three- was starting to fidget and rock back and forth. It was clear that Leo wanted Donnie to just give up all this number talk and act like their childhoods hadn't happened. But that was just an impossible task. April could tell that this situation would be quick to spiral.

“Hey, uh, Leo?” April asked, getting his attention.

“Yes?”

“Betcha can't do an ollie.”

Leo turned fully to face April. “A what?”

“I-it's a skateboard trick…” Donnie said, causing Leo's attention to whip around again. “F- Mikey showed me a couple days ago.”

“Oh.” Leo's brow ridges tightened as he whipped back to face April. “You think I can't pull some stupid skate trick? You are so on.” Leo slid down the ramp, using his carapace like a sled. “Mikey! Give me your board!”

Donnie watched him slide down with wide eyes. “Has he… ever skated before?” He asked, mildly concerned.

“Nope. Never even touched a board.” April smirked. “He's gonna be stuck down there for at least an hour.” She looked over at Donnie, who was gazing down at his brothers with a lost glaze over his eyes.

“You wanna go join them, Donnie?”

The softshell's neck popped as he snapped to glare at April. The murderous intent that had been building suddenly channeled into his face, and he growled before standing up and stomping away swiftly toward his recently decorated room.

April glanced down at the three brothers having fun, then pushed herself up to follow the one who wasn't.

“Wait, Donnie! What's wrong? I-”

“Stop.” The turtle hissed, not turning around to face her.

“Stop? Donnie, what did I-”

“I SAID STOP IT! STOP CALLING ME THAT!” He pressed the heels of his hands into the sides of his head.

“What do you mean? Just tell me what's-”

The turtle turned on his heel in the doorframe. “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I don't know how to put it in a way your STUPID HUMAN BRAIN WILL UNDERSTAND!” His face morphed into a manic grin. “Goodbye! So long! Sayonara! Toodaloo! GET OUT OF MY FACE!”

The door slammed shut, and April was left breathless.

----------------------

April came back the next day to a much quieter lair. The boys were keeping space from each other, whether consciously or not. Raph was wandering around, trying to act like everything was okay. Leo was training in the dojo. Mikey was spending more time around Splinter than he usually did.

The final brother was still locked in his room.

April decided to join Mikey to bring him his second meal of the day. The first one, a small plate of rice, was still outside the door, now cold and dry.

Mikey knocked lightly, barely tapping the door with his knuckles. “Donnie?” He whispered. “I've got more food for you. It's your favorite- flavorless mush! I tested it myself, no taste at all. I promise!”

The offer was met with silence.

Mikey sighed and let his shoulders slump, backing away from the door. “I just don't get it,” he muttered pathetically. “He hasn't even come out to pee, April. Do you think he's just peeing in a cup? Or a corner? Does Donnie have a pee corner that we don't know about?”

“Mikey, it's okay.” April grabbed his shoulder. “First of all, yes, he probably does, and that just means we get to bond over cleaning his room when this is over. Second, you shouldn't have to worry about this.”

“I'm so sorry, April.” Mikey looked down to his feet. “I don't know why he hates you so much. Maybe if we hadn't-”

“Don't apologize,” April interrupted. “If anyone needs to apologize, it's me.”

Mikey looked back up at his big sister with wide eyes. “Why?”

She sighed. “Because I did something wrong.” April took the food from Mikey's hands. “I'll get him to eat. I'll text you if things go super wrong, but otherwise, ignore any loud noises. I have a feeling this might get… violent.”

Mikey puffed his chest. “Roger, roger!” He saluted and rushed down the hall, supposedly to find Raph and warn him of April's plan before he could start panicking.

April stood next to the door. “Hey, bud,” she started. “It's April. I've got your food, and I'm not gonna leave until you let me in to give it to you.”

After about two minutes of just standing there and getting no response, April sat down. She would say something every few minutes, just to remind him she was still there.

48 minutes later, the lock clicked.

April opened the door slowly. Glancing around the room, she could see the state of disarray it was in. Clothes carpeted the floor, as well as abandoned scrap projects. The turtle was cloaked beneath blankets on his bed, only his bright eyes glaring out at the invader.

She left the door open and stood to the side, getting just close enough. She didn't want him to feel threatened or trapped. She placed the (well cold by now) food next to the growling blanket pile and backed away. Waiting a second, just until he proved he would actually start eating, she spoke.

“Why don't you want me to call you Donnie?”

The pile shifted. “You just… you just can't.”

“Why not?”

“...because Splinter gave me that name. It's my name as his son. As Raph, Leo, and Mikey's brother. Not yours.”

April was about to pose a question, but the softshell suddenly sat up and started showing his anger. In the action, he also revealed the red marks growing on his arms from squeezing them.

“Because I don't care how much time you spend around us. I don't care how much One likes you, or how much Four draws you, or how much stupid stuff you watch with Two! You aren't related to me. It's scientifically impossible. We don't share any genetic material. You aren't my brother!”

With frazzled eyes, he turned and grabbed April's collar, bringing the two face to face.

“And you are most definitely not my sister.”

He shoved April away and sulked back in his den. The girl decided to take the violent outburst as an invitation to get closer, and sat on the edge of the bed.

“...that's okay.”

She only got a sniff in response.

“I don't need to be your sister. Or your brother. All I want is to be your friend. And if that means I call you something else, that's okay. Just tell me what you want me to call you, and I'll do it. Maybe I can call you Purple like Splints has been. Or I'll call you Three, if you really want me to.”

The turtle, Donnie to some, showed his face, keeping the blankets wrapped around his shoulders. His fingers were digging into his upper arms.

“And I know you might not like me, but I'm not going anywhere. Your brothers like me, and they'll be upset if I go away.” When she saw the softshell's grip tighten, she quickly added, “And I know that if they had to choose, they'd pick you. But they don't have to. They don't want to.”

The turtle stared aimlessly in front of him. “...I don't… I…”

“I can just not call you anything if you can't decide. Y'know, just call you ‘dude’ and stuff.”

His shoulders lifted higher, touching the sides of his chin. “That… that works…”

April smiled wide. “Great.”

The two sat there, just accepting each other's company. Donnie's tight posture slowly loosened, and April focused on making sure his breathing was even.

This poor boy had never known true family. He had never known learning to trust people and taking them in. He had never been taken in. This concept, choosing family, was so foreign. Because to him, family wasn't something you could choose.

April would never allow that. Never again.

“...sooo, do you have a pee corner?”

“What?!”

April held her hands up defensively. “Mikey said you haven't come out to pee! I just wanted to know if you had a pee corner!”

“No?! Why would you automatically assume I have a pee corner?”

“Because you haven't come out of your room to pee! What, do you have a pee cup instead?!”

“No!”

“Then what have you been doing?!”

Donnie pointed to a spot in the room, and April looked over to see a very D.I.Y. toilet, made of scrap metal welded together. (She could recall that Donnie's welding materials had been taken from him weeks ago.) “I hooked it up to go straight into the tunnels,” Donnie boasted proudly. “I even dug the holes myself! Digged? Dug.”

“...yeeeah, we're getting rid of that,” April grimaced.

“WHAT?! WHY?!”

“YOU KNOW VERY WELL WHY.”

----------------------

[In time, Donnie would let April call him by his name. And, in time, he would learn that his name was his, and his alone.]

○●○●○●○

And that's it! Totally! April has started on her long journey to fixing all of her broken brothers! She has NO OTHER BROTHERS THAT HAVE ISSUES, why would you ever think that 🟥🐢

This part gave me quite a few problems. Knowing that the "Maps" comic is probably going to explore April and Donnie's relationship, I was a little scared about making assumptions. Also, you don't realize how difficult it is to write someone who isn't all there until you're actually trying to do it. Eventually I just said "screw it, if he's out of character, its fine". So now we're here :)

ALso, no one tells you how motivating and powerful the high you get when someone you look up to praises your work is, I thought this would take me WAY LONGER to finish 🤡

aanyway, congrats to all the tmnt au comp winners, again. Can't wait to see who moves on from here :D

Part 4 -> ❤️

[auguste-marmonts-only-fan]

Letters between Napoleon and Marmont (all they do is fight)

Auguste de marmont is one of the emperors oldest friends but how did they treat each other during times of personal conflict?

Dear readers, take a nice cozy seat and get some popcorn becouse this is going to be LONGGGGG and juicy

But before we start:

What are they talking about: Marmonts governing being too expensive

Who is talking?: Auguste de Marmont , Napoleon Bonaparte and Minister of war: Henri-Jaques Guillame-Clarke

LET THE PETTINES BEGIN :

MINISTER OF WAR TO MARMONT

Paris, March 7, 1808. General, accounts have been submitted to His Majesty that the war treasurer of the Kingdom of Italy, who is in the army commanded by you, was forced, according to your orders, to pay in advance from the funds intended for the salary and living expenses of the Italian troops, the sum of four hundred seventy-three thousand two hundred and eighty-two francs for the costs of artillery, engineering, provisions and various other expenses. His Majesty has ordered me to inform Your Excellency that he does not approve of your conduct on this occasion. It is my duty to warn you that the funds for artillery, engineering works and the supply of headquarters are determined by the decrees of His Imperial Majesty the Prince Viceroy of Italy, and that they cannot be exceeded until new orders are issued. The Emperor, who keeps a watchful eye on all the expenses of the army, noticed that the expenses of the Dalmatian army are considerable and that this army costs more than another army twice as large. Paris, March 20, 1808. His Majesty wishes that the administration of the army with which you command to be more orderly and that it doesn't damage the treasury

So, in short: these provinces are more trouble than they are worth

MARMONT TO NAPOLEON

Zadar, March 30, 1808. Sire, two days ago, I received a letter from the Minister of War expressing your majesty's displeasure regarding various provisions regarding Italian funds and the administration of the Dalmatian Army. Since the object of all my endeavors is to carry out your Majesty's intention and your esteemed goodness, I am deeply grieved by the reproaches addressed to me. I sent the minister a clear and simple description of the real situation, and I dare say that he removes every excuse and the slightest accusation.Removed from Your Majesty for almost three years, denied the pleasure of making war, while almost the entire army fought before your eyes, in a cruel distance and painful inactivity, I find the only consolation in the thought that here in this neglected service assigned to me, I do everything in my power to serve you as best as possible Your Majesty, that's why nothing is more painful for me than to lose hope by assuring you that all my actions have always been aimed at this goal.

Oh no....he's pulling the "but I did it for you!" card

MARMONT TO MINISTER OF WAR

30. March 1808 I have just received the letter which Your Excellency had to force on me on the 7th of March, in which he expresses His Majesty's displeasure at the use of Italian funds. — I believe that even a clear and simple description is not enough to justify me, and I earnestly ask you to present my letter to His Majesty.From the entry of the French into Dalmatia until the month of May, the Italian government did not give a single penny for the needs of the artillery in Dalmatia. Since Zadar did not have any weapons, it was necessary to do everything, build everything, and despite the considerable costs, this fortified place still does not have adequate weapons. Since the monthly funds were approved only from June 1807, it was necessary to find a way to pay for the work done in the previous sixteen months. The works on the fortifications that were carried out before or after my arrival on the fortresses in Hvar, Šibenik and Knin were in accordance with the provisions of His Majesty which were known to the chief of the engineering units. The execution of these works required weaponry, and since the artillery had no means, it was necessary to acquire them. That's all about the artillery works in Dalmatia. Prince Eugène sent me a letter on August 2, here are a few passages: 》His Majesty instructs me to write to you that it is his wish that you not evacuate Dubrovnik, but rather that you strengthen its heights.《 He wrote to me on July 26:

》The Emperor orders me to write to you that he cares very much about the position of Ston to order General Poitevin to trace the mighty fortress in that position and to hasten the works. The emperor wants this fortress to cross the Pelješac peninsula in a way, etc., etc. that you must build a fortress on the Holy Cross, a fortress on the island of Lokrum《

On September 8, he wrote to me:

》His Majesty orders me to write to you that you must work day and night on the fortresses of Dubrovnik and Ston.《 The Duke of Neufchâtel wrote to me on July 8, 1807:

》Dubrovnik must remain definitively annexed to Dalmatia; you must, therefore, continue to determine and refine it as best as possible.《 His Majesty's wishes were quite clear and obvious; and in defiance of my request and persistent requests for the establishment of the Dubrovnik Arzava, nothing was given in 1806 except seventy-seven thousand francs, of which six or seven thousand had already been spent before my arrival, and only nineteen thousand three hundred francs since acquisition in 1807 until today, although it took more than three hundred thousand francs to execute (and only provisionally) the orders issued to me. I captured the Boke forts. It was necessary to arm the Kotor. There were no special funds for this purpose, despite everything I asked and said. However, the works were urgent. Only a few days ago, His Majesty honored me by writing to me: 》I presume that measures have been taken to protect him from force of a squadron of twelve to fifteen ships of the line if it reaches Kotor or Dubrovnik. Please answer this question《

After this letter, I considered it my duty to increase the defense facilities of the anchorages in Dubrovnik and Herceg-Novi, and these are currently underway. So much for engineering work .The fact is that no funds were opened for artillery works in Dalmatia until June 1807, and that at this moment not even a quarter of the funds needed by the engineering units for the execution of urgent works ordered in the state of Dubrovnik and Albania were approved. And yet it was necessary to ensure the costs for both,

During the war with the Russians, our communications through the sea channels were completely blocked. The troops therefore had to move by land road. This traffic was made more difficult by the two strong rivers of Neretva and Cetina, on which there were no means for an organized crossing, it was necessary to build bridges on ships over them; without a doubt, it would be unforgivable if, in the case of the siege of Dubrovnik, I could not come to the rescue due to the impossibility of crossing these rivers. My possible march can not be compared with the march of General Molitor. He arrived in Split and Ston by sea, he would never have been able to help Dubrovnik if the Russians had already blocked the canals, as they did later and from where they never left for the whole of 1807 until peace.

As for the siege supply, since we built a powerful fortress on Hvar, since we equipped the defense of Ston, since we fortified Knin and since I had to guard against Austria, since Hvar could be blocked, as after all was a full six months, it was necessary to provide supplies in those places for the crews that defended them.

As for Your Excellency's remark that His Majesty thinks that the Dalmatian army costs more than another one that would be twice as strong, I would like His Majesty to deign to explain his opinion. I am aware that there is no more order in any army than in this one, for I have carefully supervised all the offices of administration; in this matter, I can only provide the supreme issuer of payment orders, Aubernon, with satisfactory evidence. If His Majesty wishes to compare the business transacted before my arrival, with those afterward, he will find that the administration has gradually become more economical by about thirty percent.

When I arrived, in July 1806, a meal of meat cost the state thirty-four cents: today, it stands at twenty-two cents and three quarters. At the same time, a meal of bad bread cost forty-one cents, and today, excellent bread costs twenty-seven to twenty-eight cents. Extraordinary purchases are paid in units of cash on sight and as military pay at the cost of a fifteen cents as determined by His Majesty to be reduced when possible. Somewhat more significant expenses were the only ones intended for the port across the sea, I thought I could order it in order to ease the financial toll to the recruits from Italy who were overworked, exhausted from the difficult journey and weakened by long-term illnesses that they overcame that summer: this kind of expenditure will not be repeated in the future.

Another expenditure which may seem considerable, and which I submitted to you, was made due to officers sent to Constantinople, officers and couriers sent to the Grand Army during 1807, artillerymen sent towards Constantinople, officers sent all over Turkey to draw up itineraries and carried out reconnaissance; this expenditure could not have been less, all these journeys having been expressly ordered, the report sent to your Excellency contains the names of the persons entrusted with these missions as well as the expenses for each of them individually.

I never received an extraordinary salary, nor did I have my own funds, that's why I could only and exclusively take the money for the mentioned expenses from the army treasury and that legitimately because I was authorized to do so by a letter from the Duke of Neufchâtel, which I had the honor of sending you the transcript itself.

The overrun of the treasury in the Dalmatian Army only happened at the end of the summer of 1806; then its administration depended on the Italian one; no distribution of funds was made and that is why all the services suddenly failed and that is why there was a terrible mess everywhere.

For the last fifteen or sixteen months, since Minister Dejean has been directly allocating funds, everything has been going smoothly and properly because he foresees all our needs and takes care of them.

I earnestly wish that His Majesty would demand detailed accounts of the administration of the Dalmatian Army; I dare to believe that there will be reason to be satisfied; if he deigns to observe that, owing to good administration, this army has never had more than seven hundred patients in the hospitals at one time, and that the mortality has almost entirely declined, although nine thousand boys have passed through the hospital during the year, he will see that the provisions were well, if the supervision had been constant, we would have achieved the most important of all savings — saved human lives.

Furthermore, since my first goal, my most ardent desire, is to accurately execute His Majesty's decisions, I earnestly beg you to tell me how I must govern myself in the future when the execution of the orders I receive is not in accordance with the available means.

Well uh......that was alot

NAPOLEON TO MARMONT

Bayonne, May 8, 1808. Mr. General Marmont, the salary of the Dalmatian Army has been stopped because you spent four hundred thousand francs from the treasury for the expenses. It can't go on like this. The cashier made a big mistake in obeying your order. Since the Treasury pays the expenses, this service can not operate so irregularly. You have no right to exceed the cash register under any pretext. You must request loans from the minister. If he does not approve them, you must not enter into the costs,

Bayonne, May 16, 1808. Mr. General Marmont, there is too much disorder in the administration of my army in Dalmatia. You allowed the cash register to be overdrawn by more than four hundred thousand francs. However, you had a loan of four hundred thousand francs available for engineering and artillery work. That's a considerable sum, and how come you didn't have enough? Dalmatia is costing me a lot; there is no order, and all of this introduces a mess into financial operations that we are no longer used to. The treasurer is responsible for all these sums; I ordered until he was recalled; you must hurry and send all the necessary papers to settle the accounts. However, all this does not justify the expenses incurred. You have no right to dispose of a single pair if the minister has not made it available to you. When you need a loan, you have to request it

OH SHIT BONEY CUT HIM OFF

so how did Marmont respond to this?

BY WRITTING A TEN PAGE LETTER OF COURSE .

Yes TEN whole pages, but sadly my book copy didn't want to translate all of that so they just put this message lol:

(Since in this extensive ten-page letter, Marmont mostly repeats, but in a more polite tone, the reasons for the cost overruns that he had already exhaustively stated in the previous letter to the Minister of War dated March 30, 1808, we did not consider it necessary to translate)

MINISTER OF WAR TO MARMONT

Paris, September 26, 1808. General, I presented to His Majesty the details sent to me by Your Excellency regarding the use of funds taken from the treasury of the Italian troops to meet the expenses of the engineering and artillery of the army you command.His Majesty established that the works of the engineering services stemmed from the order that he actually sent to Your Excellency that they were conditioned by the immediate needs of the army. It also determined that the costs for these works should be borne by the Kingdom of Italy. Accordingly, it ordered that the costs in question remain borne by Italy. He informed His Imperial Majesty the Viceroy about the Emperor's decisions, and it seems that the issue of the mentioned expenses has been completely settled. The scope of my ministry includes only advances for extraordinary expenses that have already been incurred and special funds that Your Excellency requested for possible future expenses. I informed the Emperor about this, but he still hasn't informed me of his intentions. As soon as I receive His Majesty's decision, I will hasten to inform Your Excellency.

The issues? Solved? No way....

Saint-Cloud, 20. October 1808. Mr. General Marmont, regardless of the account you have placed on me, it is necessary that you correspond directly with the Minister of War and that you account to him for all affairs, not through your Chief of General Staff but directly. This provision refers to the king of Spain and Naples and the viceroy of Italy, who are the commanders of my armies.

"DUDE, everyone is getting sanctioned....chill out"

MINISTER OF WAR TO MARMONT

Paris, October 21, 1808. Mr. Duke, by special order of His Imperial Majesty, I have the honor to inform Your Excellency of the Imperial decisions regarding the relations that must exist in the future between the supreme commanders of the armies and the Minister of War. His Majesty has decided that Your Excellency, in his capacity as Supreme Commander of the Dalmatian Army, will in the future write about all official matters directly to me, and not through the Chief of the General Staff; which does not mean that the General Staff will not equally provide all the necessary explanations in detail and send me reports as usual. His Majesty instructs me on this occasion to inform Your Excellency that your responsibility will be covered, only if you write to me as Minister of War. The Emperor also adds that regardless of whether Your Excellency wrote to him directly, Your responsibility will not be covered by that, so in no case can Your Excellency not write to the Minister, even if he writes to the Emperor. These new provisions will strengthen and multiply my relations with Your Excellency, which will be even more pleasant for me, and I will do my best to prove it to you. I sincerely believe that Your Excellency will act in the same way and thus instill in our contacts a confidence that will make them useful for the good of the service to our mutual satisfaction.

And they are finally finished ..... 7 months later

I love these assholes so much 💖

TL;DR : Marmont being extra ☹️

(This is how I looked while reading)

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hi there, I just stumbled upon your posts and I’m in love with the Sons of Leonardo one! 🤍 can you write more about Leo and his family, maybe about how his brothers get along with their nephews and niece? 💙💙💙

Plz and thank you!!

Love Of Uncles (Fluff)

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

A/N: I most certainly can! Hope you didn’t wait too long💙 I’ve had this idea, that even when the guys get married and have children, they would still live together as a sort of collective, each with their own area/rooms where they, their partners and the kids sleep. With that being said, they see their uncles, aunts, grandpa and cousins everyday, making them pretty close💙

----------------

Warnings: Spelling💙

----------------

“Are you sure you got her?”, Leo asked in a worried tone, watching as Donatello hugged Valentina closely against him, the 2 year old happily resting her head against her uncle.

“I got it, Leo”, Donnie answered, leaning his head towards his niece, causing the young girl to giggle. “I have twins. I know how to take care of a child”.

“I know, I know”, Leo said with a sigh, the worry still clear in his eyes. “But if anything happens-”.

“Nothing is going to happen Leo”, you said, cutting your husband off. “Like Donnie said, he got her”.

Leo looked at you with an almost pained expression on his face. He had never been a big fan of leaving your kids behind in the lair, without at least one of you to look after them. Especially not while your youngest was still a toddler. In the two years that had made up Valentina’s life so far, Leo had gone up an extra step in his protectiveness, both him and your sons making sure that there was nothing that could harm her in the slightest.

You and Leo had finally decided to go spend some couple time alone in April and Casey’s cabin. It had been his brothers’ idea, seeing how having four kids at very different ages was starting to take a toll on you. Sure, you had 18 year old Romeo to help out, but with his new found freedom and enjoyment for the world above, you did not want to force him into staying in the lair and taking care of his siblings.

“Don’s right, Leo”, Mikey said, walking by carrying Luis and Gerardo under each arm, the 12 year old cousins laughing and having the time of their life, as 10 year old Ragnar followed behind, poking at their feet. “We got them, like we always do. Isn’t that right, Raph?”, Mikey called out for the turtle in red.

“Sure we do”, Raph said, watching with a proud smile as Joan and Marcello showed Minerva how to punch a punching bag, exactly the way he had taught them.

“I’m still not too comfortable with it”, Leo sighed, already imagining all the ways things could go wrong while he wasn’t there.

“Leonardo”, sounded Master Splinter’s voice from the entranced to the dojo, 16 year old Galileo and 18 year old Romeo’s heads poking out of the door as Splinter made his way over to his oldest son, making sure he did not step in Dorothy, Marie and Sunny’s little get together at the end of the staircase. “There’s no reason to be worried. You and (Y/N) can safely go on your trip while we look after the kids”.

“Not that we need any looking after”, Marcello called out from the other side of the lair. “Last time I checked, it was only Valentina that still wore a diaper”.

“Hey!”, Romeo yelled out from the dojo sliding doors, his attention directed at his younger brother. “Be nice!”

“I did nothing!”, Marcello yelled back, starting a loud argument between the two, yelling from each side of the room. Leo sighed loudly and rubbed the bridge of his beak. This was one of the many things he feared would happen.

“Romeo! Marcello!”, Splinter yelled with a stern voice, tapping his cane against the ground with a loud bang, causing your sons to cease their fighting. “No fighting!”

“Sorry, grandpa Splinter”, they both mumbled, looking sheepishly at their feet. You tried to hide your smile as Splinter turned to Leo, a smug smile on his snout. “I believe we got them under control”.

“Well”, Leo said reluctantly. “I guess you’re right…”

“Of course he’s right!”, you said, tossing your bag in your husband's direction, causing him to blink in surprise when he caught it. “Now, let’s go. We should have left 20 minutes ago!”, you continued, pushing him towards the exit of the lair, as he called out the last few reminders to his brothers.

“Donnie! Remember that Valentina has sensitive skin! No soaps with perfumes! Remember what I told you about her sleeping schedule! Mikey! No milk to Gerardo! He’s lactose intolerant!”

“I’ve known that for the last 12 years!”, Mikey called back with a big smile, enjoying the laughter of Luis, Gerado and Ragnar as they hung onto the back of his shell.

“Raph!”, Leo continued, almost playing tug of war with you in order to get him out of the door. “Remember Marcello’s bedtime! He gets grumpy when he doesn’t get his sleep!”

“Dad, I’m 15!”, Marcello yelled back.

“Yeah, but your sleep schedule is still worse than uncle Donnie’s!”, Leo said, causing Donnie’s children to snicker. “Oh! And dad!”, Leo continued, the old rat nodding. “Please make sure Romeo doesn’t get himself stuck in the dojo all night”.

Splinter chuckled as a blush crept up on Romeo’s cheeks. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure of it”.

“We’ll call when we get there!”, Leo called out, before you finally managed to pull the loud turtle out of the exit.

“No we won’t”, you retorted, turning your attention back towards your kids. “Be nice to your uncles while we’re gone, and your aunts when they get home from work. We’ll see you on Sunday. Love you all, bye!” And with those words you pushed Leo out of the lair, hurrying towards April and Casey's apartment, so you could borrow their car like they had promised you you could. That left your kids in the care of their uncles, and honestly, it was nowhere as bad as Leo had thought it would be. The only problem they stumbled upon was Valentina asking for you and Leo with the few words she had, followed by a few minutes of crying. However she was quickly comforted in the arms of her uncle, soon giggling and smiling all over again.

After a few hours, the brothers’ partners returned from work for the weekend, ready to enjoy it with their extended family. With their return, Mikey and his wife went into the kitchen to cook dinner, closely followed by Sunny, Luis, Gerardo and Ragnar, all while Raph was throwing a ball to Marcello and Joan, Mini was curled up beside her mother on the couch, watching television as she knitted, while Donnie and his wife was playing with Valentina and his daughters, and Romeo and Gali was training in the dojo with grandpa Splinter.

Once dinner was made and the table was set, the large family gathered to eat together. No matter how big your strange family got, it had always been a rule that the family ate together. Even though each brother may have a hallway, containing bedrooms for themselves and all of their children, the living area, kitchen and dining area was still common areas, where they all would spend time together.

It was a little strange not to have you and Leo at the dining table, but they managed, talking and making plans for the weekend. You and Leo’s kids would have so much fun, that they wouldn’t even notice that the two of you were gone, bringing you some much needed time to relax.

[fan-maniaer]

I have decided to redesign each of the turtle designs in my tmnt au.

I will now as well give descriptions and details of each turtle starting with...

Michaelangelo!

In my version, Mikey is genderswaped as well as the youngest of the siblings, being 14 by the start of the story. She is as well the shortest being 5"6

She is the most naive of the four, but that doesn't mean she's stupid..

Unlike other versions of mikeys, she actually knows how to make small but somewhat complex gadgets. Like her own smoke bombs and her skateboard with a tiny rocket booster to help her gain more speed. She knows how to make these because Donnie was willing to teach her.

And out of the four, she is one of the most important characters in the lore. (I won't say why)

Now next up...

Leonardo!

In this version, he is the middle child (similar to Rise!). He is twins with Raph, and they are both 15 at the start. He is also 6 foot.

He is the most chaotic of the bunch of pulling pranks and making fun of everyone he can. He especially loves to get on Raphs nerves by commenting how he looks like an old man instead of a young teenager. (He knows Rap hates being told this fact)

He also has the capability to camouflage into his surroundings, not because he's a Ninja buy, because he can change his skin color to fit into his environment like a chameleon. (Everyone gets annoyed by him doing this) He is also one of the fastest of the four, being able to outrun a speeding vehicle if he needs to.

But in terms of lore, he isn't the most important. (except when he is)

Next, we have...

Raphael!

Like I said with Leo, he and Raph are both twins, but Raph considers himself the older twin (despite the fact he has no evidence of this) he is also the tallest of the four being 7"2

He is more of the silent type, and unlike others, the version tries to play by the rules (but always ends up breaking them) he is very self conscious about how he looks. Because when you look at him, you wouldn't suspect him to be a teenager in the slightest. (Which is why he hates when Leo brings this up)

He is aswell bulletproof, which makes him the shield of the team. He also carries a mini gun just in case of an emergency. But because of his bullet-proof skin, it is very possible for him to overheat, so he usually has to stay in cool water for him to cool off.

Again, in terms of lore, he is not that important (except when he is... Again)

Lasty...

Donatello!

He is the oldest of the group in this version, being 17 at the start. As well as being 6"9

He tends to be the most serious out of the four because in this version, he is the leader instead of leo. He tries to keep everyone in check as well as keep them away from truth that he thinks might hurt them.

He has heat vision, able to see through walls and people's body heat. His eyes and frill as well have changed color depending on emotions. He also has a regeneration ability that's as good as someone like Wolverine. But he doesn't discover that ability until a bit later.

In terms of lore, he is second most important behind Mikey

And....

That's everything for now. I just wanted to share this with yall.

[queenofmoons67]

stitching up the loose threads of his soul: 2/15

Master Post / Beginning

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, some cursing

Legend has been anxious since they first entered this era. The portal did the courtesy of not dropping them right into battle, but instead punted them next to a well-manned army outpost. The guards eyed them with clear suspicion, hands wrapped full around their sword hilts, until their commander said he’d seen portals like theirs before and directed them towards Castle Town.

The comment made Legend more anxious—the Chain has never been to this era before; what kind of portals were they seeing?—but it made Time excited. The old man didn’t say it, but he also made no move to hide it, tugging his pups into one-armed hugs while they walked and shooting grins at anyone who even glanced his way.

Maybe if Time hadn’t been so distracted, he would have seen the lizalfos’s axe before the blade cut straight into his skull. Only Legend’s sword stopped the blade from cleaving Time’s head in half, drawn at the slightest flash of silver after the tense day.

That was the good news.

The bad news was that his sword pushed against the axe handle with such force that the weapon flew back, blood flowing quickly with nothing to stop it until Hyrule managed to get his hands on the wound.

They all need baths, Legend thinks now, staring around at his brothers. Between Time’s blood, their own injuries, and the general dirt and grime of carrying a two-meter-tall man in armor five kilometers to help, none of them should even look at clean sheets.

Time needs it most of all. The blood matted in his hair, and no doubt slipped down his neck and inside his armor. The metal will be a bitch to clean—but Time will be alive to do the task.

Legend studies the man stitching their leader’s head back together. The moment they arrived on the castle steps, Zelda knew who they were, and she wasted no time in ordering someone to get “the Captain.”

The messenger didn’t hesitate, no questioning which captain—Legend grew up around soldiers; he knows the rank is high, but not so high there aren’t probably a dozen in the castle right now—and no asking where the man was.

Now the captain sits busy at his task. He’d wasted no time either, just identified the wound and got to work. He’s certainly dressed for it, a leather smock covering a green tunic while thin leather gloves keep his hands clean. He’s rather young for a captain, though.

Legend narrows his eyes, then starts when a finger pokes his arm.

“What?” he snaps, turning to Wind. His youngest brother just raises an eyebrow and points to the queen.

Zelda hasn’t raised an eyebrow at him, but her mouth ticks up to one side in a small smile.

“I assure you, Legend,” she says, “Captain Link is the best field doctor we have. Your brother is in excellent hands.”

Legend stills. Around the courtyard, his brothers do the same, all except Hyrule, Wild, and Four turning as one to the queen.

All except for those three, their nearly dead oldest brother, and their probable newest brother.

“Captain… Link?” Legend says.

His newest brother is a soldier? But… a doctor?

A hero became a doctor? Managed to avoid the battle and skip straight to the aftermath? That was possible? Hylia allowed it?

Legend’s gaze falls back to Captain Link. He’s tying off the stitches, his own gaze entirely focused on his patient, and not on the half-dozen people staring him down.

Legend’s heart twinges in his chest. As helpful as a doctor will be on their quest… how in Hylia’s name are they supposed to keep him safe?

Master Post / Beginning / Next

[snowleopardtherebel]

Nyx's TMNT Iteration - Main charactrs

yeah, thats it. thats the post.

i don't have a set title yet i might just go with this 😭

ANYWAY

Mikey

18

he/any

yellow-headed box turtle

Mikey is the oldest sibling of the four turtles! He was only six years old when the mutagen bomb hit, and as such retains the most memories of his time before the mutation.

Out of all her siblings, Mikey is the closest to Donnie. But she also has the rockiest relationship with Splinter out of the entire cast. She's similar to Rise!Raph, but never had to step in to the same extent he did.

16

he/they

spiny softshell turtle

donnie is a mixture of idw and rottmnt donnie. he has a lot of rise donnie's enthusiasm when it comes to his tech and his interests.

he's autistic just like rise donnie! in my iteration they tend to be on the quieter side, and have a higher chance of going nonverbal. he only really talks when he's with his family, and even then he gets burnt out very very easily, the only ones he can hold a steady conversation with are splinter, mikey, and april.

he loves leo and raph too but like. they're 13-14 and they're energetic and rambunctious and it just gets too much sometimes.

Despite this, they are not shy or noncombative in the slightest! love that for them.

don't get them started. don't get them started. /silly

they have an equal interest in both magic and science, and helped build the family lair along with the rest of their siblings.

14

he/she

indian roofed turtle

Raph is Leo's twin! they're practically attached at the hip and almost never leave each others side.

raph is not the leader so she doesn't have a lot of the protective instincts or leadership qualities or anxieties rise raph does due to being leader

but he's young and he's going through a lot of changes and development and everything, yk, normal teenage growth, and so he does still have a lot of anxieties and insecurities because he's one of the youngest

but she's not really sure how to let these feelings out so she just acts out via anger and aggression and being rude and stuff. think mylo from arcane! she's very similar to him

14

he/him

cumberland slider

leo and raph are both twins but leo is the overall youngest

he IDOLIZES donnie, he really looks up to him, and so he's constantly trailing him, going with him on missions, hanging out in the lab

donnie is like "oh. a child. slash j."

leo has a constant feeling of being babied and feeling left out. it feels like his brothers are always babying him, never letting him doing his own thing, having to ask any time he even wants to walk around. and of course his brothers mean well, but that doesn't mean they're in the right all the time.

i might do something on the other characters later! feel free to ask questions about these guys :)

[dracomort]

Reincarnation? If you so please

For the ask game

This is really just my Tomarry reincarnation scribbles for any AUs that come to mind.

I'm cracking up rn because the only scene I have polished enough to share is one with secondary-school-student!Tom and dying-in-a-pallative-care-ward!Harry 💀

Anyway, you're welcome:

Scene

“Look at you.” The voice of a teenage boy.

Harry pried one eye open.

There, leaning in the doorway, was none other than Tom Riddle, looking perhaps sixteen at the oldest. He was dressed in a crisp school uniform that looked expensive enough to pay for private palliative care thrice over. His hair was artfully tousled in a way that might have been carefree if it had been anyone other than Tom. On the breast of his blazer was pinned the predictable prefect badge.

“This is perverse,” Harry said. He closed his eyes, wishing Tom away, thinking of Ginny, the children, the grandchildren. Anything other than Tom Riddle.

It didn’t work. He could still hear the soft sound of Tom’s feet on the lino as he approached.

“I won’t disagree.” Tom dropped himself onto the mattress beside Harry, peering down at him with his dark, pretty eyes. “You look hideous. How old are you? One hundred? Two?”

“Eighty-three,” Harry replied, “and not likely to make it to eighty-four.” It was jarring to see his sun-beaten, wrinkled old hands beside Tom’s pale, youthful ones. How would it work in this world? Would Tom continue to live a long, healthy life after Harry had passed? Would he forget him?

“You look much older,” Tom said, matter of fact.

He wasn’t the most conscious of the Toms, Harry mused. He’d met versions of him with varying degrees of knowledge of their shared pasts—some who remembered only when he saw them, some who had known for decades, some who didn’t recognise him in the slightest. This Tom seemed to remember well enough, but he didn’t hold himself with the maturity of a Tom Riddle who recalled a thousand lives. He was a boy, nothing more.

And even from the brief words they’d exchanged, Harry could already tell he had been raised by his father.

“This coming from the lad who didn’t manage to make it to his seventy-eighth birthday?” Harry said.

Tom shrugged, which was not the reaction that an iteration of him closer to Voldemort would have had. If—in his decrepit, geriatric form—Harry had dared voice that to the Librarian Tom, he was certain all the life-saving equipment currently attached to him would have already been severed. But instead, this Tom only watched him curiously, head half-cocked.

Harry was, predictably, charmed by him. However, much to his relief, he felt no great surge of attraction. It was one benefit of being eighty-three and on seven different medications with a total of forty different side effects.

“I saw your name on the door. I remembered it, though I wasn’t sure where from.”

“Almost like a half-forgotten friend from when you were very young?” Harry supplied.

“A friend?” Tom’s lip curled. “I never had friends.” He spoke as if Harry had gravely offended him by even suggesting the possibility.

“No,” Harry said, “neither had I. But that was how I felt when I read your name—the first time.”

“Hm,” Tom said, mouth twitching down. “Why’s it always you, then? What’s so special about you?” He didn’t question his own importance—as Harry recalled doing in iterations further from the core—simply accepting his place at the centre of infinite parallel universes without batting an eye. 

“You marked me as your equal,” Harry said. “Really, it’s all your fault. I’m still waiting on an apology.” His throat was dry, arms too weak to reach for his water, but he didn’t ask Tom to help him. Not this petulant, young version of him.

Tom rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

A nurse came in, almost as if she’d read his mind, bustling about and neatening up Ginny’s bags. She helped him take a sip of water, sparing an incurious glance at Tom. Harry supposed she imagined he was just another grandchild. It was nauseating enough to almost make him laugh.

“We fucked,” Tom said abruptly.

The nurse dropped the cup, the thin plastic straw spinning away somewhere under his bed. “Pardon me?”

It was likely Tom hadn’t even intended to provoke a reaction from the room. The memory had certainly just come to him. Harry had experienced the same many a time. However, while rarely was that an admission one would wish to make in front of a stranger, stating such a thing while in school uniform in front of a mandated reporter was surely near the top of the list of inadvisable decisions.

Tom flicked a disinterested glance at her. “I’m sixteen. If I have a taste for the toothless then that’s none of your business.”

“He’s only joking,” Harry assured her. “You’ve seen my records. I’m not up for any sort of physical activity.”

She did not laugh, leaving in a huff. Harry hoped she wasn’t off to make a call.

“I’m not going to have this conversation with a child,” Harry said. “Come see me in the next life.” 

“We did,” Tom insisted, perhaps not understanding that plausibility was not the roadblock to their conversation. “In an atelier out the back of a piano shop in Paris.”

“Well,” Harry said, memories of a thousand lives blurred and smudged together in his mind, “I suppose we may have.” That it was the closest iteration to this Tom did not mean it sprang quickly to Harry’s mind.

“We did, we—”

The door slid open again and Harry looked up, expecting a police officer or some sort of security. But instead, there stood an exceptionally handsome man who could have been the twin of any of the versions of Tom in his thirties that Harry had met.

“Tommy,” Tom Riddle Sr said, looking tired and rather distracted, “you mustn’t just go about bothering other patients. I’m very sorry, Mr…?” He was dressed in a crisp black suit and had his Blackberry in hand, looking like he had about a thousand things to do that were more important than apologising to Harry.

“Potter,” Harry said. “And that’s quite alright.” He was old enough to be the man’s grandfather. Never had he felt older. He was beginning to understand why Voldemort had paid him little attention or respect in the worlds in which they were fifty years apart in age.

“I was just saying goodbye,” Tom said. Then, with a sly glint in his eye, he dipped his head and kissed Harry square on the mouth. “When do you suppose you’ll die?” he asked, breaking away.

Harry glanced over at Tom’s father, but saw that he was typing out an email on his phone and had missed the exchange entirely.

“The doctors have given me two months.”

Tom’s eyes dropped to his own hand on Harry’s chest for a brief moment, then up at his face again. “This will be the last time I see you, then.”

“In this lifetime.” Harry winked. Tom frowned.

Behind him, Tom’s father cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt, but we’ve really got to dash. Tommy, will you come say goodbye to your grandfather?”

[hearted-anon]

Okay Hiii! I know that you’re close friends with Sana so I wanna organize something for her blog anniversary in about two weeks! She just posted about it 🥰 and I wanna do something special! If it’s possible, could you prepare a fic for that day? it’s the 27th of July I think. I just wanted to plan a surpirse!! Feel free to ignore just remember that this is a secret so she doesn’t know! Please don’t respond to this but if you’re in, post a 👀 in the tk community

— 👻

Raised hearts? Raised arms.

Words: 1641

Note: for @itzsana-kiddingmenow , happy anniversary!!

T/w: rough tickles, pinning

Lee(s): Changbin, Bangchan

Ler(s): Maknae line

Felix waddled over towards the rapper, who was sitting comfortably on the couch as he regained his breath. A black vest covered the red tank top that perfectly hugged his waist, albeit a bit tightly. Laying on his lap laid a tired wolf, where he wore a blue, thin vest with a back tank top; it didn’t cover his arms even in the slightest, leaving nothing to the imagination. The dwaekki was running a hand through the older’s hair calmly, the group having just finished up their performance at Music Bank.

“Looking good, are we?” The brownie boy murmured into Changbin’s ear, eliciting a soft squeak as his head turned to meet the younger. Hands were now all over him, massaging his arms, shoulders, anywhere that Felix could reach was not safe, making the shorter melt away into a puddle of goo and soft whines of protest; the dancer knew he didn’t mean them in the slightest. A curious Chan stared up at the duo when he realised he wasn’t getting hair scratches anymore, feeling a pang of jealousy that the dwaekki wasn’t paying attention to him.

“Hehe, he’s jealous~” Another voice called out, the leader snapping his head to meet a mushroom of blonde hair and what he could mistake as a five year old. Jutting his bottom lip out, Chan resorted to burying his head into Changbin’s stomach for protection, getting a few cute snorts and squeaks in the process. The maknaes pouted, turning the oldest back around before Seungmin scratched his scalp once more calmly, Jeongin kneading his hands quietly.

“What’s up? I see you have two cuties here!” Jisung chirped, plopping himself in front of Changbin to grip and hold his legs calmly, where Changbin was now surrounded by almost all of the members, who knows where Hyunjin and Minho went. Cheeks heating up, the two oldest members found themselves to be trapped within the maknae line, their faces turning into a pale shade of red under the sweet words that melted their hearts. Within a few seconds, their arms were suddenly lifted above their heads, revealing their bare underarms right on display.

“W-Wahahait!” Changbin almost immediately began pleading, babbling as a certain quokka held his arms up, a chick pulling down his vest to reveal his bare arms. Meanwhile, the vocalists struggled as Chan fought back against the current, but eventually succumbed when Jeongin wouldn’t stop squeezing his sides, weakening his resolve much more than it should have. Seungmin secured the leader’s arms high up, earning panicked shouts…and threats.

“Hehehey! L-Lehehet me goho!” Chan whined, tugging at his arms in a failed attempt to get the puppy’s hands to release him, but with the wide smile on his face it wasn’t very much threatening. The four mischievous people of the dreaded maknae line gathered around each other, whispering in unintelligible mutters that neither of them could comprehend. Once decided, Jisung squeezed Binnie’s hands comfortingly, while Seungmin just gazed blankly down at the leader.

“Since you two have been looking quite…amazing lately, we want you to keep your arms up. Y’know, to inspect those muscles. And if you fail…you don’t wanna know.” Jisung announced like reading rules of a competition, sending a shiver of fear and confusion down 2RACHA’s spine. What had they done so wrong to deserve such treatment from the young-ins? Suddenly, the quokka and vocalist that were holding onto the gym duos’ arms let go, causing them to almost crash down against their sides; Felix tsked disappointingly at it.

“B-But why?!” The duo practically squealed in unison, trembling as they complied to the instructions nonetheless, raising their arms above their heads. Four tiny heads popped up beneath their laps, Felix already taking courtesy of wrapping his arms around Changbin’s waist while Jeongin laid his head on Chan’s lap cosily.

“Because! We wanna show our hyungs some appreciation, now get them!” Jeongin exclaimed before fingers descended onto their bodies, earning a shrill squeal from both of the poor boys. Felix trailed his fingers around Binnie’s waist lazily, whilst Jisung traced his nails into the dwaekki’s bare armpits. Meanwhile, Seungmin was pinching up and down the oldest’s underarms, the youngest scratching tenderly at Chan’s thighs.

“Nohoho! S-Suhuhung plehease! Lix!” The rapper called out softly through his sweet laughter, a smile grazing his lips as his arms trembled, struggling to stay up. It made the sunshines’ hearts melt at the sound, the hear of their nicknames through such pure giggling making them even more determined to keep going at the soft pace; drawing tiny hearts onto the respective spots quietly with a smile of their own, they couldn’t hide it around the radiant warmth of the bunny.

“Eek! Guhuhuys!” Chan whined, stamping his feet onto the floor as Jeongin’s head bounced on his lap, causing the fox to grumble and push the plump thighs back into their place. The producer didn’t get the same, delicate treatment as the snorting dwaekki, the maknaes’ not giving up in their merciful but relentless attack. The four young-ins were as quiet as a mouse, letting the duo’s squeaky, stuttering laughter echo through the room.

“I don’t understand how you both are hated, listen to those squeals…” Seungmin hummed, scribbling his nails quickly over the leader’s armpits; his arms immediately crashed down to his sides with a sharp shriek. Seeing how quickly Chan failed, Changbin pleaded with the quokka with glossy eyes, begging not to suffer the same fate. But with a deep breath, the chick blew a loud raspberry onto his tummy after invading the younger’s tank top; earning a shriek as his hands pushed at his head instantly.

“Ooo, look who failed~” Jisung cooed, earning panicked squeaks and begging from the gym duo as their arms were forcefully ripped above their heads, the quokka and puppy standing behind them now. Their arms wrapped around theirs like a rope, keeping their hands free whilst allowing absolutely zero movement for the struggling producers; how convenient! Unable to avoid their tickly fate, the boys just stared at the maknae line with their best puppy eyes, but were powerless against the fingers that hovered above them.

“W-Waha- AHAHAH! N-NOHOHO!” Changbin wailed when fingers kneaded into the centre of his armpits, another Aussie pair of hands finding the dips of his hips before digging in. His head tossed and turned, cheeks heating up as hysterics spilled from his lips quickly. Jisung took the opportunity to lean his head close to the cherry red ears, whispering tiny compliments that turned his brain to mush; how could anyone say he’s overconfident?

“EEHAHAHA! I’M SOHOHORRY I’M SORRY!” The leader pleaded pointless apologies as a prankster’s hands found his sides, skittering and scratching the smooth skin tenderly, while another pair of hands found his armpits and repeated the same process, causing poor Chan to go into a state of frenzy. Seungmin snickered above him, taking the squishy skin and switching to squeezing as a scream tore from the oldest’s throat; how did anyone think he’s disrespectful?

“Aww~ they can’t even speak properly anymore..” Felix cooed, pressing his lips to the pudge of Binnie’s tummy that prominently stuck out giving his position, earning another shriek from the one above him.

“Stop laughing if you want it to stop..” Seungmin raised an eyebrow when the cackling didn’t stop, it obviously wouldn’t. Jeongin smirked evilly, pressing his lips to Chan’s neck before blowing hard. The leader wailed in ticklish agony, what a bunch of hellions.

“N-NOHO MOHORE NO MOHORAHAH-!” Changbin pleaded with the last of his breath before he cut out completely, silent begging that refused to leave his mouth through his open smile, blush bleeding into his shirt; he looked just like a real strawberry; his tank top being red only colouring him in all the more.

“ARGHAHAHA GUYS! PLEHEHEA-!” Chan’s voice too, gave out after another agonised scream of shrieky laughter, shaking his head as the fox refused to leave his neck alone, the area down already turned into its own bright shade of red. When the maknae line lifted their hands, and lips, they had to catch the exhausted gym duo, whose heads were slumped down as their arms laid limp down at their sides. Tears of mirth were streaming down their faces with each wheeze of breath that they took in, four tiny heads popping up beneath him. Seungmin and Felix had come to give just about a thousand tiny kisses along the rapper’s face, hands massaging his arms as the dwaekki squirmed from being fussed over. Meanwhile, Jeongin ran a soothing hand through the leader’s hair, Jisung snuggling against the heated body as he melted away.

“Tiny cuties..” Seungmin hummed quietly, earning loud whines of protest from below. However, when fingers wiggled ever so slightly on the waists they were quick to change their minds, babbling weakly for mercy. Just like that, the two strongest in the group were reduced to puddles of giggles, the maknae line working hard to relax their muscles and croon them to sleep; Felix’s voice was great for lullabies, wasn’t it? As soft snoring filled the room eventually, two heads peeked out from the front door.

“We left for groceries and they got wrecked? No fair!” Minho pouted, able to obviously tell who and who did not get the fair share of torture, gripping about two heavy bags of vegetables in each hand.

“Ah, no problem, there’s always tomorrow to show how much we love them..” Hyunjin mumbled, rather enthusiastically given his soft nature; one of his hands holding a full bag of meat and assorted other items, another fumbling around with the keys.

The sounds of cabinets and the fridge opening rang throughout the quiet dorms, two mischievous grocery helpers discussing their beloved plan to torment the other half of their line for when they woke up..for appreciation of course.

[cloudbtw]

[  joe keery.  cis-man.  he/him.  subplot 25: "in  the  garage,  CHARLOTTE  HARRINGTON  and  CHRISTOPHER  BARNES  sit  on  the  hood  of  someone’s  dad’s  sports  car,  a  blunt  passing  between  them.  smoke  curls  in  the  air,  mixing  with  their  laughter.  the  distant  sound  of  sirens  makes  them  pause,  but  when  the  noise  fades,  they  go  back  to  talking  about  nothing  and  everything.."  ] 

welcome  back  to  montclair  university,  christopher  daniel  barnes  !  according  to  your  student  file  you're  a  TWENTY  FOUR  year  old  JUNIOR,  studying  HISTORY,  and  funny  enough  you  were  voted  most  likely  to  be  president  your  senior  year  of  high  school  back  home  in  BOSTON  MASSACHUSETTS.  i  can  totally  see  it  with  your  intelligent,  realistic,  and  stubborn  personality  !  but  enough  about  that  —  i  heard  you  were  lizzie  harrington's  FAMILY  FRIEND.  makes  sense  when  you  take  into  consideration  your  status  as  a  legacy  student…  and  the  fact  that  you're  hiding  that  [ redacted ]  .  you're  often  seen  at  the  sinclair  reading  room,  and  you  kind  of  embody  a  stack  of  vinyls  piled  high  enough  to  tip  over  from  the  slightest  movement;  a  shelf  full  of  books,  not  one  of  them  fiction;  idly  fiddling  with  a  ring  upon  your  finger,  adorned  with  an  ornate  family  crest;  &  handwriting  which  gets  messier  when  swept  up by  a  train  of  thought…  not  to  mention  people  always  seem  to  hum  waterloo  by  abba  when  you're  around,  but  you'll  always  be  known  on  campus  as  THE  LOVEABLE  MAVERICK  who  enjoys  historical  reenactments  and  has  1200  instagram  followers…  good  luck  this  semester  ! 

Basic Information: 

Full Name: Christopher Daniel Barnes

Date of Birth: May 17th

Place of Birth: Boston Massachusetts, USA

Immediate Family: Douglas Edward Barnes (Father), Heidi Sarah Barnes, nee Gable (Mother), Randal “Randy” James Barnes (Younger brother), Alycia Ivy Barnes (Younger Sister)

Sexuality: Heterosexual 

Star Sign: Taurus  

Class Schedule: Modern European History: 1789 - 1945, The History of The American Revolution, U.S History: Colonial to Civil War, History of African Civilizations, 20th Century Music History

Background: 

Christopher comes from a family who has a long standing legacy of being a political dynasty. This legacy can be traced all the way back to his Great Great Great Grandfather, Jedediah Barnes, who was a war hero during the American Civil War, and after the war concluded, built a platform upon his war hero status and was elected to become Mayor of the town of Quincy. He later went on to become a member of the United States Congress. Ever since then, The Barnes Family has continued to produce more and more politicians, and though not every Barnes of note has been involved in politics, there has always been at least one at any given time who was, and it has typically been the oldest boy, who also tends to hold the position as the head of the Barnes Family. Today, that person is Christopher’s father Douglas Barnes, who is the current Governor of the State of Massachusetts. 

Because of their storied history, The Barnes family take a great deal of pride in where they have come from. Family history, and its figures from the past, are not only remembered fondly, but actively celebrated and revered. As a result of this, Christopher was raised constantly being reminded to be proud of where he came from by his father, which in turn, ignited a very real passion for history in him. It started with the family history, but soon extended to all of history. Before too long, it seemed that there were never enough books to fully quench his thirst or satisfy his fascination with the events of the past. His Dad approved of this interest greatly, and always made sure to emphasize that the Barnes family legacy rested on Christopher’s shoulders, and that some day, he would be a part of the very history books he loved reading so much, and he would make his family proud.

Unfortunately, the older that Christopher got, and the more obsessed with history he became, the more conflicted he found himself feeling over what his family expected of him, versus what he really wanted for himself. He was still proud of his family legacy, and didn’t want to be the one to break the longstanding traditions they had established, but it got harder and harder to deny to himself that entering politics like he was expected to was not at all what he wanted to do with his life. Every one of the many hours that were spent reading a history book, or painting historical miniatures, or writing historical essays, or attending historical reenactments only reinforced that what he really wanted was to be a historian. But no matter how badly he wanted it, he knew that even if he chose to pursue his own path and do what he loved, he would never truly be happy, because he was in a situation where he could never truly win; either he could follow tradition and continue the family legacy, but be unable to do what he loved, or he could pursue his passion, but have to live with knowing that he had been the one to break the long-standing traditions of his family that he was truly proud of. A true lose-lose scenario, whichever way he looked at it.

All of the fear, doubt and uncertainty that he had about politics not being what he wanted to do with his life was only confirmed during the three years after he graduated high school that he spent working in his Dad’s office; three years that Christopher spent in absolute misery. It was only through his insistence that he continue the longstanding Barnes tradition of attending Montclair that Christopher was able to gain any reprieve from said misery, though he’s fully aware that such a reprieve is only temporary, and that eventually, he’s going to have to return to doing what is expected of him by his family, because he can’t be the one who ends the uninterrupted dynasty. For now though, Christopher is trying to make the most of his college experience, knowing that it’s likely the closest he’s ever going to be able to get to doing what he truly wants to do with his life: being a true academic. 

About: 

Christopher’s family have great expectations for him, and although what they want for him is so different from what he wants for himself, he still takes it upon himself to try and do the best he can to live up to those expectations. He’s attended Monclair since he was a freshman, just as every other Barnes has for the past one hundred and fifty years. Here, he participates in extracurricular activities such as folkstyle wrestling (a sport that all of the Barnes boys have participated in throughout the generations), debate team, writing for the school paper, and being the treasurer on the student council. 

His primary interest though, and the thing he spends the most time on by far, is everything to do with history: He loves reading about history and can always be counted on to have a book about some historical subject. He loves writing about history, and has submitted to dozens of historical essay writing contests and has won more than a handful of them. He loves playing historical board games, historical roleplaying games, and historical video games. (So long as they’re historically accurate) He loves watching historical movies and docuseries (Again, so long as they’re historically accurate) He likes painting historical models and figurines, and has hundreds of these on shelves in his dorm. He even likes to attend historical reenactments, often leaving Montclair for entire weekends to attend them. Basically, the boy is just obsessed with history. 

Christopher is definitely a lovable dork type. He has a sort of charm about him in his dorkiness that a lot of people just can’t help but like. He also likes what he likes, and wears it on his sleeve proudly (okay, except maybe when it comes to girls. I don’t think he brings them back to his dorm too often to let them see all of his historical figurines and models)  He’s very kind-hearted, and treats everyone with kindness and understanding. As a Taurus, he’s very much got bull’s vision, in that he really charges in to the things that he likes, and doesn’t pay enough attention to everything that doesn’t fit into that. As a result of that, he can be kind of aloof and lazy and unmotivated with the things that aren’t what he’s interested in. This is a result of that patented Taurus stubbornness which he has a lot of. 

To sum him up, Christopher is a good-natured history dork, with tunnel vision and a stubbornness that could put old ladies to shame. He has great expectations placed upon him by his family, which he greatly strives to meet and live up to out of a feeling of obligation to preserve the family legacy. Though, if you were to ask him what he wanted, he would probably tell you that if he had his way, he’d be left alone to dwell in his history books for the rest of time.

About Christopher and Lizzie:

Lizzie's Dad and Christopher's Dad were old friends from school, and so Lizzie and Christopher met each other every so often throughout childhood, though these experiences were rather fleeting and shallow. They didn't really became close until their pre-teens, when Lizzie's family became major contributors and supporters to Christopher's Dad's campaign, and the two families spent a lot of time together for a number of months. It was during this forced time together that Lizzie was almost immediately able to see what no one else in his life seemed to have noticed at that point: that maybe Christopher wasn't thrilled about the future as a politician that awaited him. She did not hesitate to point this out to Christopher. Because of this, Christopher immediately felt seen and understood by Lizzie, and like she was someone he could confide in, and so she quickly became one of his closest friends moving forward from there. Within Christopher's family, Lizzie was loved and treated like she herself was family, a big deal always being made whenever she came around. While they didn't run in the same circle while at Montclair, the pair of them were still close, and they still made time to see each other fairly regularly. Her death comes as a significant emotional blow to Christopher, and he is currently in a state of numbness over it. Despite caring for her immensely, Christopher never had romantic feelings for Lizzie, seeing her more as a family member.

Additional Information/Fun Facts/Headcanons:

Christopher’s favourite band by far is ABBA, and he even plays the keyboards and does vocals in an ABBA cover band. Well, they started as an ABBA cover band; now they’re more of an oldies vintage band that only plays songs that were released prior to the year 1990. They still play a lot ABBA though, at Christopher’s insistence! (Taking members of this band as wanted connections too!)

Christopher loves cheese. In fact, in the rp that he was originally conceived for, he became known to members as Cheestopher. It’s not just cheese he likes though; he just loves food in general, and loves to cook and bake, and is quite good at both.

Christopher wholly rejects almost all fiction. His love for history runs so deep that he finds fiction superfluous to his own enjoyment, reasoning that human history is full of stories that are plenty interesting enough on their own. The grey area for this, however, comes with regards to folktales and legends, which he does appreciate, due to the air of uncertainty and mystery surrounding their validity.

Christopher’s Dream Job would be to work at the National Archives in Washington, DC. This headcanon is actually new to me, but there was a documentary on the tv yesterday about the National Archives while I was doing some Christopher related things, and as I listened to it I realized that he would be obsessed with that place.

More of these to come as I think of them tbh!