#people are making up insane rumors and they are just letting this happen

[mxauthor]

Beginning of More

Summary: Two best friends in a dungeon. They might kiss.

Word Count: 2,147

Warnings: fluff, secret mutual pining, brief mention of dead husband, mention of kids, Chilchuck and Reader being besties, sneak peak into matchmaker Marcille

A/N: I was thinking of making this into a little mini series or adding the other parts to this draft when I have them. Let me know what you think and enjoy!

Y/n and Chilchuck have been best friends since forever.  

Having grown up in the same village, the two of them spent most of their time together while they were young. And as they grew older, so did their friendship, they had been either best man/maid of honor at each other's wedding, first ones there after the birth of their children and became the god parents. They moved away from home and started the half-foot union together and began adventuring. It was very unusual for adventuring parties to get one without the other.

The two were thick as thieves. Always there for each other. 

So when Chilchuck had been introduced to Laios’ forming party, it was no surprise when Y/n also signed a contract with them as well. Starting together and ending together, that is the way both half-foots worked. Always going where the other leads. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcille’s favorite genre of books are romance. Where a princess gets swept off her feet by a prince and they fall madly in love. Or when two people are forced to go on an adventure together only to realize that they began to fall in love during the journey. She couldn’t get enough of them, which had caused her to strongly lightly project onto others, specifically the two half-foot party members that seem to be insanely close with one another. 

It wasn’t hard to see the natural pull the two of them had with each other, or the instinct of making sure that one is safe after a battle with a monster within the dungeon. Marcille would catch glimpses of the two of them leaving when it came to getting water or heading off to the bathroom. Just always making sure the other is safe. 

She knew they were friends beforehand, it wasn't hard to keep track of the infamous half-foot duo despite her not being the most well kept with rumors. She knew that they have history before forming the party. And watching them now, after deciding to go and rescue Falin, she knew it was much deeper than just friendship. 

Marcille’s main focus is reducing Falin. But if she said getting the two together wasn’t a separate focus on its own, then she’d be lying to herself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chilchuck sat irritably on his bed roll, gaze locked onto the door for night watch. After spotting the mimic in the room over he knew something was going to happen. Mimics have never brought them luck before and it sure as hell wasn’t going to bring them luck now. 

With an irritated huff, Chilchuck felt his stomach growl with hunger. “My stomach’s gone soft on me. I used to go two days without eating.” He reached for his water skin only to find it empty.

Chilchuck huffed to himself, before instinctively reaching for Y/n’s water skin, knowing she wouldn’t mind. He lifted it up to drink but only a few drops came out, “We need more water.”

He rose to his feet with the water skins in his hands. He turned towards Y/n, calling out her name. She groaned lightly, only turning slightly in the direction his voice is, Chilchuck huffed before reaching over and shaking her. Y/n groaned at the forced movement of her body. 

She turned her head, inhaling and exhaling deeply before speaking, “What is it hon’?” 

Her words came out muffled and they were laced with sleep. But it still rang loud and clear in Chilchuck’s ears. The softness of her voice and the endearing name was enough to make his face blush red. He’s heard her call her late husband that or her kids or even his kids, but never has it been directed towards him. And not once did he feel like it needed to be, but his heart still fluttered. 

 His face still flushed. He still stumbled over his words. “I-I’m going to get some more water.” Only a simple sentence and yet it was still hard to get out, her half lid eyes, seemed to be drawing him in. Almost like she wanted him to stay. 

“Want me to come?” Y/n asked, lifting herself onto her elbows. Sleep clinging to her eyes, Chilchuck watched her fight it. But it looked like she was going to lose. 

“Nah, I’ll be alright. It’s only in the next room.” He reassured, standing to complete his task. Gently he nudged her head, giving the indication for her to lay back down, “I’ll be back. Go to sleep.” 

“Yell if you need, I’ll hear.” She replied, before laying back down. Chilchuck watched as her breathing went even. He stepped out of the room, a single thought on his mind. 

“She looked really pretty.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Golly!” 

Y/n shot up from her bed roll, the sound of a voice waking her from her sleep. She scanned the room only to find Chilchuck still gone. Panic swelled, Y/n quickly making her way towards the door. In her haste, Marcille had woken up. She watched as Y/n swung open the door and took down the hall. Marcille noticed the missing Chilchuck and quickly woke up Laios to come and help. 

Y/n heard the loud thump of a box hitting the ground behind her. She turned and saw the previously opened room was locked with bars. Turning around, Y/n raced towards the room only to see Chilchuck pressing the last brick before the gate opened itself. 

In his panic, Chilchuck didn’t register that Y/n was standing right in front of him nor did he slow his pace when he ran straight for her. Before Chilchuck could fully collide with Y/n, she quickly pulled the man into her, once he was within reach, giving a wider gap between the mimic and himself. 

Y/n watched as the metal bars slammed down onto the mimic's body, killing it. Y/n held tightly to the panting Chilchuck, just relieved that he was okay. She pulled back to assess him of any major damage, only to see the slight gash on his cheek. 

“I told you to yell if you needed help.”

“I had it under control.” Chilchuck laughed, knowing if he was patient enough, Y/n would’ve come running. Y/n smiled warmly, knowing that he would figure out a trap like that in no time. 

The door to the room opened to reveal a sleepy Laios being dragged out by Marcille, her panicked expression matching the one Y/n had on seconds before. 

“I saw her run out like something was wrong! And Chilchuck isn’t in the room! He must be in trouble!” The small group looked over and saw the two half-foots converting, Y/n pulling the pouch on her leg off to reveal a couple of needles and thread, Chilchuck following suit.

Laios and Senshi stared at the dead mimic on the ground. “Whoa! You bagged a mimic! Nice going!” 

Chilchuck groaned, sitting back as Marcille gave him a once over with her healing magic. “Thank you.” 

Y/n shook her head in disbelief before assisting his green neck warmer. Seeing how much she can sew right now, before having to add more fabric to it. “I can sew most of it, but I’ll have to add some of the spare fabric I have.” 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” Chilchuck commended, happy he could keep it for one more day. 

Seeing his happy smile caused Y/n to share a smile of her own, his relaxed nature making her heart flutter. Knowing he was only this level of relaxed with the two of them, their small bubble yet to pop even with the rest of the party around them. 

Even with the small trickle of blood on his face, Y/n couldn’t stop the thought that passed through her head. 

“He looks so pretty.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcille silently observed the interaction between the two half-feet. She always had a leading suspicion that they held some sort of feelings for each other, but seeing the way they’re acting almost like it was only the two of them within the dungeon, Marcille knew it was her imagination. 

She could see that the two of them held the other close to their hearts, but seeing how close would be the fun part. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n watched as everyone settled around, ready to eat the dinner provided for them. She was a couple stitches away before Chilchuck’s neck warmer was finished. Which was about the time everyone's portions began to be served. Chilchuck sat next to her, holding the other end of the neck warmer so she could sew it more easily. 

Marcille continued to munch on her piece of the mimic before turning towards the duo, questioning them. “If you knew the mimic was in there, why didn’t you tell us?” 

“Because I’ve had nothing but bad experiences with them. The last thing I wanted to do is deal with another one.” Chilchuck grumbled. He flicked his gaze towards Y/n only to see she had finished mending the fabric and is folding it up to place it next to his pillow. “Anyways, I made a lot of bad decisions.” 

Y/n hummed in agreement, eating a piece of mimic as Chilchuck continued to talk. “The first was panicking thinking the mimic would eat the treasure insect.” 

“But mimics don’t eat treasure insects. Treasure insects eat mimics.” Laios announced. His small explanation going over the irritated Chilchuck’s and the amused Y/n’s head. Chilchuck grumbled as Marcille tried to pat his head, only for Y/n to slap her hand away. 

“You know he doesn’t like to be coddled.” She said simply. “It makes him feel like a kid.” She finished her plate of food and placed it down for it to be washed later. Marcille ignored her  words and turned her attention towards Chilchuck. 

“Tell me how old you are and I’ll never do it again.” Marcille compromised, “What happened to you today only happened because you wanted to be so secretive. Now come on and tell me how old you are.” 

“Fine.” He grumbled out. Hoping she’ll keep her word. Marcille’s eyes sparkled, before turning towards Y/n. Her face held an expecting look, almost like she was waiting for her to share the same details.

“What? You never asked my age. I would’ve told you if you just asked.” Y/n answers simply. It was true. She never hid anything about herself, like Chilchuck did. Just no one was interested enough to ask, or they didn’t think to ask since Chilchuck always refused to share anything and everyone always assumed that she was the same way. 

“I’m turning 29 this year.” Chilchuck grumbled out, seeing Marcille’s eyes land on him expectantly. 

Marcille groaned at the information, expecting to hear an age older than the one she got. “Man you’re just a kid after all.” 

“I thought you were way older than that.” Senshi said. Y/n laughed at their reactions, knowing that other races don’t fully understand half-feet life expectancy. Especially races with longer lives. 

Marcille watched Y/n chuckle at the scene in front of her, before lighting up herself, “What about you Y/n? How old are you?” Marcille asked. Excited that she’ll get the answers to some of her questions. 

“Me? I’m 30.” Y/n answered casually. Watching Marcille’s excitement withered slightly. 

“Really? You guys are so young.” Marcille huffed, leaning back onto her hands looking at the ceiling. 

“Okay then! How old are you guys! All other races look like kids to you races with long lives!!” Chilchuck shouted. Y/n laughed at Chilchuck’s faux anger. Knowing he was more irritated than actually upset. 

“There, there, Chil, those lifers will never understand our day to day struggle.” Y/n joked, watching as Chilchuck fumed silently sitting down and crossing his arms. Steam almost pouring out of his ears. “Come on guys, we should rest a little more before we start moving again. Especially since not everyone got a chance to sleep.” 

Marcille watched closely as Chilchuck’s body seemed to instantly relax once Y/n began patting his shoulder. And how Y/n’s touch lingered for a second more before she moved and began reassembling her bed roll closer to the new circle the group had formed. 

The party grumbled in agreement before dimming down the fire and getting back into their bed rolls. Most falling asleep almost instantly. Y/n turned over, her now face to face with Chilchuck. She reached out slightly and tapped his arm with her fist. 

Not enough to hurt, but enough to convey her displeasure with him, “Don’t go anywhere without me next time, got it?” 

“Yeah I got it.” Chilchuck replied, tapping her arm in return.

They two adults shared a smile before dozing off. Resting until they woke up naturally to continue moving down.

[bandzboy]

hybe is setting up their artists to get harassed by people and somehow you want to tell me they care about their artists?

[arminsumi]

hiii can you do #3 (car sex) with gojo?

꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐂𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱

GOJO Satoru ⋅ fem reader

Note: oopsie doopsie it became a fic🫠

Summary: getting stuck in the rain on the drive home from a party with your favorite enemy Gojo Satoru

Warnings; 🔞 mdni, smut, enemies-to-lovers kinda trope, hate sex, Gojo's an impliedd fvckboy, dirty jokes, Gojo being a bit of an annoying brat, pns (baby, slut, etc), drama/argument, stuck in a rainstorm trope, car sex, implied crush on Suguru, jealousy (Gojo), fingering, dirty talk, handjob (reader giving), protected sex, Suguru calling at the end 🫠, light teasing/mocking/meanness from Gojo, lmk if i have missed something, pretend u never saw any errors pls proofreading is hard 🙏😩

Wordcount ≈ 1.8k

Playme ♪ slow down

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

“Shit…” he muttered under his breath, pulling the car off into an empty parking lot.

“Of course…” you sighed, sliding down the passenger seat. “Of course this would happen when you decide to drive me home. Just my luck getting stuck with the biggest asshole in the world.”

“Jesus, y’think you could be a little nicer to me baby? I offered you a drive home and this is how you treat me…? I’m heartbroken.”

You glare over the white-haired boy, wishing you could wire his stupid mouth shut.

The car turns off and the rain just pours and pours relentlessly all over it, cascading down the windshield.

How comical; two people who loathe each other, stuck in a car at night with no friends to call for help because they’re all drunk at the party.

“Well…?” you looked over at him expectantly, fingers massaging into your temple and across your brows.

“What?”

“Aren’t you gonna get out there and fix the damn tire?”

Satoru let out a chuckle. So many girls swore that their crushes on him developed because of that attractive laugh of his, but you couldn’t feel anything but annoyed by it.

“As if. It’s fucking pouring. Why don’t you get out?”

“I’m not getting wet.” You grimace.

He slipped in a dirty joke – because of course he would. “Not yet, anyways.”

“Lay one hand on me and I’ll rip you apart, Satoru!”

“Don’t say my name like that, you’re gonna make me hard.”

“Satoru!”

“Fuck baby, again.” He moaned jokingly. You were seething – seething, you were so ready to punch him.

He just chuckled, enjoying getting you riled up like it was his favorite hobby.

A moment of silence passed. You focused on the sound of the rain to mellow out.

“I’m gonna be honest, I’d let you ride.” He said suggestively.

“What the fuck!” you responded like he was crazy, but something started heating up between your legs.

“Kidding! I could have meant ride my car or something!”

“Uh, yeah right you meant it like that! Damn horny bastard…”

He clicked his tongue and stared out the window. “You’re no fun. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You look at him incredulously, your anger teetering between tame and murderous.

“I almost had a boyfriend…” you seethed bitterly, “Until you spread some insane fucking rumors that drove him away.”

“I did you a favor, that guy was a fucking loser.”

“Like you’re not!”

“Ooh, am I a contender?”

“… what?”

“You’re implying that I’m a potential boyfriend for you.”

“No I’m not! As if you’d be boyfriend material, you’re a soulless fuckboy.”

“I would prefer ‘soulful’ fuckboy because I do fuck with a lot of soul.”

“Jesus you’re ridiculous. How does Suguru put up with you.”

“Don’t say his name like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you wanna fuck him.”

“What?”

“I see the way you look at him.”

“Satoru you’re delusional. I don’t wanna fuck Suguru.”

“That’s a damn lie.”

His voice raised for a moment. A bizarre thing to witness from the most composed man on the planet; it was like witnessing an indestructible object breaking.

“Okay, let’s say it’s a lie and I actually wanna fuck him. What would it matter to you?”

“He’s my best friend, you freak.”

“Yeah so what if he’s your best friend? He’s hot.”

“You mean you would fuck him?!”

Satoru was genuinely getting angry – you weren’t sure if you were scared or turned on, it was a weird feeling. But your thighs squeezed together, and he glanced at them and took note of that.

“No, I’m just saying he’s hot.” You backtracked.

“Damn liar.”

You felt cautiously curious. “What would you do if I fucked him?”

“I’d ki- I’d be mad.” He corrected quickly.

You laughed, “You’d kill me?”

The way he was staring at you had you feeling… feeling a lot, let’s just say. His lips slightly parted, a half-incredulous and half-angry expression on his face, hints of lust in his eyes that lurked behind shades which he always kept slid halfway down his nose.

“No, I wouldn’t kill you.” He said.

You turned to face him fully, “What, you’re telling me you’d kill your best friend if he fucked me?” you asked rhetorically.

Satoru’s lack of response and annoyed jaw clench answered your question.

“That’s crazy! You must like me a hell of a lot.” You said. He felt embarrassed, he felt humiliated – that just pissed him off. “I wasn’t sure you were capable of feeling affection.” You teased.

“I don’t fucking like you.”

“Look who’s the liar now! Shall I come ride you and get the truth out of you myself?”

He stuttered and went red. The boy who was never at a loss for words stuttered because of you. The bastard who never blushed went red because of you.

Satoru shot a look your way. He was so conflicted; he wanted to yank your hair and put you in your place by spitting mean words down your throat, but at the same time he also wanted to shove his tongue in your mouth and sink his cock inside you.

“I don’t let girls ride me.” He said in a lowered tone. “I prefer being in control.”

Now the atmosphere finally changed. It was already dipping into sultry waters from the beginning, but now it plunged. Every word you and him exchanged from this point was laced with bitter lust.

“Maybe you should.” You said, leaning closer towards him. He surreptitiously leaned his elbow on the middle armrest.

“I like being in control.” He said. “Ain’t no way I’d let someone take the wheel.” He said.

Speaking of, his pretty hands were still resting atop the driving wheel. The neon glare from the shopping center signs hit the dashboard.

“… maybe you need to stop being such a control freak and let someone pleasure you.”

His pants tightened.

Satoru looked at you as if he didn’t believe what you just said. You and him bitterly flirted a few times in the past, and tonight at the party too, but it never got this far.

No, it never got this far – as far as him crashing his hungry lips on yours and you crawling over onto his lap. His annoyance and jealousy was palpable, you could taste it on his lips.

He kissed you like he fucking hated you. And he pleasured you like it too – it didn’t take long at all for him to fish out the condoms from his pocket.

“ ‘fucking hate you…” he mumbled into your mouth, tongue poking in and swirling around yours. “Hate your guts. Hate when you talk back to me. Hate that you like my best friend. Fucking slut, ‘m gonna make you forget him t’night.” Satoru promised threateningly, bringing his fingers down to toy at your clit.

“ ‘hate you too…” you whimpered weakly, losing all your dominance under the influence of his touch.

“Shut the fuck up.” He laughed, “You fucking love me. Uh-huh, keep lying, it’s fine – ‘m gonna fuck the truth out of you.” He said, turning your earlier words against you. Oh what an annoying bastard.

He felt you up like he hated how good you felt. His fingers sunk inside your little hole like he was pissed off. “So wet for me, huh?” Satoru smirked against your face.

“Fucking shut up and fuck me already I need it so bad.” You whined annoyedly.

“You don’t deserve it yet.” He seethed, coming in for another kiss – a dirty, filthy, nasty, wet French kiss. It seemed he liked how you tasted.

His fingers worked inside you so good you gushed on his lap. There was no shortage of teasing – but sometimes he threw in an odd praise comment just to stir you up. “Your pussy’s sucking my fingers in so good, pretty baby. ‘That feel good? Yeah? C’mon, tell me you like it. There, that wasn’t so hard now was it? Haha, did you just cum?”

“Satoru!” you whined into his chest, falling to pieces as you gushed around his two fingers that he kept all curled up inside, rubbing back and forth against your G-spot with his fingertips.

“Bet you never reached that deep with your own fingers, huh?” he asked, breath getting hotter.

In fact, you could feel his whole body getting hotter. The outline of his cock was so searing that you felt it through all your layers of clothes.

“Does this turn you on?” he murmured, pulling his pants down so you could take his pretty cock into your hands. “Fucking around with someone you hate? Yeah? Fuck – ahh, yeah stroke it just like that. Get my precum all over your fingers, baby, soak ‘em in it. ‘Want you to smell like my cock after we’re done.”

You pumped his cock until neither of you could wait longer – the both of you kept ripping kiss after kiss like you were starved of each other’s taste despite never having had it before. The rain barely drowned out the erotic breathing and moans that filled Satoru’s car. That stupid, pretty cock of his hit the best spots. You could feel the curve.

“Taking it so well…” he muttered into your mouth, lips glistening with saliva.

“Faster… faster please, ‘Toru fuck me like you hate me.” You begged him.

His eyes lit up.

“Y-yeah? Want me to fuck you like I hate you? Like a slut?” his lips curled into a mouthy smirk when you nodded frantically, “Alright, baby, ‘m gonna fuck that pussy like it deserves – oh fuck – ‘can feel you clinging to me – so fuckin’ tight and messy. Messy fuckin’ pussy – ‘s gonna – ‘s gonna be my pussy, yeah? Just f’me? Good.”

The windows fogged up, your hand pressing to the glass for support as your body bounced against Satoru’s. He let out a long groan and threw his head back. “Baby, ‘gonna cum.” He announced.

“Mmm! ‘yeah ‘m gonna cum too! Gonna cummm ~ ” you cried, completely dazed with pleasure and the feeling of his fat cock filling your pussy in.

“Look at me.” He commanded. “Look into my fucking eyes when you cum. There we go, rub that clit – fuck, so pretty – baby cum, cum with me – yeahhh, fuck ‘m cumming, don’t stop riding me.”

His vocals were straining. You could feel his cockhead twitch and throb.

Just when the both of you hit your highs and rubbed your sweaty bodies together, rolling them erotically, his phone went off. The caller ID showed a familiar face. Satoru composed himself, sucked in a breath, and answered the call from his best friend.

“H-hey, S’guru. Huh? Yeah I got Y/n home safe.” He said while his cock twitched inside you.

When you pressed kisses to his neck, he almost moaned. “Huh? No, no I’m fine. Why? Oh, yeah, no that’s just the rain… yeah I got Y/n home fine. Haha, okay, you do that — oh really? — uh-huh, hey I gotta go I'll call you back later, byeee!”

Satoru smiled at you like a devil, listening to the way your pussy squelched when you slid off his cock.

[furiousgoldfish]

One of the issues you run into when you're not allowed to express anger as a child, is that you're no longer able to get angry. When you're in a situation that should evoke rage, you instead feel fear, anxiety, panic, or grief, emotional hurt and helplessness. You end up operating a body that cannot feel or express anger. The only times you do feel angry is when you're directing it at yourself, it comes as a form of self hatred, and desire to cause pain and injury to yourself. Because this is the only way you would have been allowed to be angry, only way it was safe, to direct it at yourself, same as everyone else is doing constantly, teaching you that it's normal and expected.

Growing up like this means that all of the anger from your childhood keeps getting stored into your body instead of externalized, and you still cannot get angry when the situation demands it. Instead, when you're being disrespected and injustice is served in your face, you can either feel helpless and lost, or the frustration you feel irritates you so much you cannot stand it. Your body is not used to feeling anger and doesn't know how to process it. Instead it feels like you're going to explode, restless, endlessly irritated and at a complete loss on how to handle it. Because you never learned how to handle anger, except to take it out on yourself, and you might be driven to just keep doing that, forever.

Taking a stand for yourself and confronting whoever deserved your anger might still feel terrifying and all of the insane things that happened to you as a result of childhood anger might get triggered. You might feel too frightened to confront them because you can imagine all sorts of ways it could come back to hurt you - this person could try to get you fired, for example. They might smear campaign you and get you evicted, they could threaten you with something or blackmail you, they could destroy something of yours, spread rumors, hold a grudge and do thousand times worse to you. Those are thoughts evoked by memories of childhood, where abusive parents threatened and did any or all of these things, including torture, in order to keep you from expressing anger.

However this person is hurting you right now, unprovoked, and getting no resistance. From that, they're learning that they can keep doing it, with zero consequences, because you've already been broken and cannot fight back. That is a dangerous situation to be in too, even if it is impossible to predict whether this person is insane like your parents and will try to get revenge for any bit of resistance for their abuse.

I had situations where I would be pushed over the edge and allowed my anger to come out at someone - and people would sometimes complain about it, but they would usually back off, and I would regain my peace of mind because I created a consequence for disturbing it. Anger, however, doesn't feel good. My body is not used to it so it makes me incredibly tense, stressed, frustrated and upset, and it doesn't go away for several days, even weeks sometimes. Because scratching the surface of it evokes the repressed childhood anger which is almost unbearable with how giant it is.

Human body can learn to process anger, it can feel better, more powerful and more in control because of it. It can protect you without inflicting damage to others. It doesn't make you anything like your abusers, who let their anger out at someone who wasn't their equal, had no way to fight back, and did not deserve any of it. Your anger creates boundaries that keep you safe, it doesn't exist to torture others for existing.

It's easy to fall back into the place where you don't want to be angry, and try to be accommodating and allowing of injustice, just so you don't have to feel frustrated and afraid. I often fall back on it too, just wanting to live and have peace. But life around other people often doesn't allow it, and sometimes anger is necessary to send a message of what boundaries will not be crossed without a consequence. Anger is not a bad feeling, it is an act of self love. It comes out to let you know that you've been treated unfairly and it's there because it's telling you that you matter. That treating you unfairly is something to get mad about.

[unbotheredalwyn]

So obviously after the Joe breakup shit changed we had that ratty twatty and then suddenly travis. Like ratty twatty first of all made it seem like you know this person is like horrible yet you choose to be with him? Everyone called her (rightfully) out I feel like cause he is really a twat of a person and the whole ice spice collab to basically "save" Matty twattys image. I also felt like it was unfair of her fans to force her to break up with him I mean it's her life. And Joe during this time went through so much shit after the break up I remember he was papped and everyone made fun of how skinny he is and how horrible he looks (he had bags under his eyes on the photo) which is actually sad cause he lost his grandmother I think during that time and people were genuinely saying disgusting things and saying mother is looking so much better etc etc while Joe was having a downwards spiral. Again I understand no one knew his depression was that bad but fuck swifties can be more kind.

Exit ratty twatty enter travesty lord this man gives me the ick.

Swifties are blinded by their relationship but he is really not a good dude. I mean that video live of him pushing his coach and yelling? Videos online of him being openly racist, being a trump supporter (and also swifties are dumb they think bc he got vaccinated and bent the knee for black lives matter he is somehow Democrat?) honey trump is vaccinated as well. And just because he supported blm does not make him a good person. He was PAID to do all that performative shit.

I mean she has millions of fans, thousands of young girls thinking the blatant red flags of travesty is hot and shit. Tells me he can push her around too. (not to mention he supported his abusive friend that literally hit his wife.)

And it feels like she's forcing travesty tbh? Like girlie you wanted the art to be about you yet you let some man overshadow it. Because truly that's what's happening like swifties are more into him at this point and the relationship they made up in their head as Taylor.

This is where I got annoyed and took a step back. Each time they were seen Joe got thousands and thousands of hate just for what being introverted?

Then they attacked Emma (Joe's Co worker) for a cheating rumor THEY MADE UP and the shit they said were so genuinely disgusting she had to switch off her comments.

Then Ai audio dropped about Joe abusing Taylor and Ai videos circled making it seem like Joe is a cheater when he is NOT. fuck they even trended a sex scene with that Alison chick he worked with saying he said Alison (her real name) and not her character's name when he DID NOT. It was in the fucking series! This woman got slut shamed so bad she turned off comments too for literally WORKING with Joe. Swifties literally spread shit around that he cheated on Taylor with Emma and Alison when he didn't! And the fucking best of all Taylor was on the set while filming conversations with friends. She most likely saw it IN PERSON and they chose to say all this genuinely disgusting shit about Alison who I've learned is actually a pretty good person.

Here I got genuinely disgusted.

So okay again I understand that Taylor can't control all her fans but her silence while her cult mass harrases people?

Whats insane to me is Joe. Like the guy got so much hate because SHE CHOSE to lead fans on. When she announced ttpd everyone thought the title relates to Joe and Paul mescal

Joe got mass hate

Then the secret songs at eras being about cheating

Joe got death threats

ALL TO BE AN ALBUM ABOUT THE FUCKING SEWER RAT SHE CAN'T GET OVER?!

she literally took ALL the hate against Joe *knowing* she's releasing an album dissing her 6 weeks situationship is genuinely disgusting. I cannot fathom it.

And AND the only thing she could say about Joe is dude did not want to marry her bc he was severely depressed WHICH IS NOT HER PLACE TO TALK ABOUT HIS STRUGGLES?

like I am SORRY this man wants to d word next to her and she just didn't care and wanted to fuck Matty?

Her partner, that got her through her darkest times BTW, did not deserve this.

She let all this mass harrasment just happen to market ttpd. Like genuinely what the actual fuck. 2 innocent women Emma and Alison were attacked and called sluts for genuinely existing and breathing the same air as Joe. And the proof he did not cheat is in her OWN lyrics. (which swifties cannot seem to fucking read bc they'd rather attack Joe than admit this album is about a sewer nazi rat)

The hate Joe got made me cry. The disgusting things they said about him. Swifties literally threatening to bash his head in with a hammer or that he needs to hang himself and they'd enjoy seeing his body swinging from the roof.

Genuinely why would any person say this to anyone at any time?

And they made fun of depression like. What. The. Fuck. Just because Joe might not see it does not mean other people with crippling depression won't.

Oh and a side note she's still bringing up Kim on albums? Not just Kim Kim's CHILD?! leave the kid alone.

Genuinely feel like the most honest Taylor we got was during lover (a time which Joe helped her voice her political opinions and shit) and idk I just feel cheated on?

My whole life I've defended Taylor against everyone and I genuinely feel like she's showing her true colors now being with travesty and ratty and I cannot fathom how this is the same Taylor I'm seeing now as she was like a few years ago.

And it's not just Joe that got death threats BTW. When midnights came out and everyone gave honest reviews cause that evil Jack antonof little gay man ruined the production there were journalists literally getting so much death threats its insane.

Taylor gets (rightfully) called out and fans can't handle it.

She needs to address them ASAP. All these parasocial freaks. The people harrasing Joe. The people literally only seeing Taylor as a breeder for travestys children.

I can't genuinely I can't this is not how I want to feel about Taylor I mean I gave her my youth I looked up to her so much I feel so disappointed in the way she's acting yk?

Yes maybe she can't do jack shit about swifties but she can try.

And her staying quiet over Palestine? Her voice her one post about a ceasefire could change EVERYTHING.

idk at this point I can't stand to be around Taylor.

[whetstonefires]

So like, I'm pretty darn sure Mo Xuanyu did not actually make a pass at Jin Guangyao.

For several reasons, like for one thing hitting on your own actual brother who is also your boss is genuinely insane behavior, in a way nothing else we know about the guy actually matches, other than his reputation for being crazy which mostly seems to originate from the same point as the sexual harassment allegations. which tracks because even with rampant societal homophobia, that's such a crazy thing to do people would question it if it didn't come paired with the information that he's insane.

Then there's the fact that if that had actually happened, there's basically no way master spin artist jgy would have let it get out, because actually experiencing that would trigger his sense-of-uncleanliness issues so hard.

But what we see is that somehow Everyone Knows that it happened, but also that Jin Guangyao totally didn't tell anyone, because he's too merciful and kind and respectable. It just mysteriously leaked somehow that this private scandal happened.

(Also, to step up a meta level, the gay goth kid who was never quite accepted into his own family and wound up self-destructing was in fact guilty of the homophobic allegations spread by the powerful man who manipulates reputation for personal advantage? This is not the kind of story where that would be true. The thematic dissonance is too much.)

The only way it's believable that mxy made a move on jgy is if jgy spent a long time maneuvering him into it, hinting and deniably flirting and just generally being maximum skeeze, just a huge elaborate incestuous honeypot, just to bait a 'ruined reputation' trap. Which makes no sense at all.

I don't think jgy is necessarily above that kind of creepy grooming behavior but I do think he would hate it, and definitely wouldn't resort to it when sowing rumors would work just as well. and expose him to less risk.

So Mo Xuanyu didn't do it.

So what we've got is that Jin Guangyao systematically obliterated this kid's credibility.

No one would listen to anything he said after being expelled in that sort of context, especially anything against Jin Guangyao, whom he now has obvious motive to smear. This was a preemptive strike against some kind of leak.

It's exactly the kind of thing jgy would do--it targets individual vulnerability, leverages the weak points in Mo Xuanyu's reputation into gaping chasms, in a way that associates jgy with scandal but makes him personally look better. also shows signs of jgy projecting his own issues onto others. The MO fits.

And his motive is easy to construct: Mo Xuanyu had had access to his secrets, such as Wei Wuxian's manuscripts and probably a lot of the other ugly shit. And Jin Guangyao needed him silenced, due to some thing or other, but as with SiSi didn't want to have to kill him.

(A fascinating thing about jgy as a villain is the moments where he yields to sentiment pretty consistently contribute to his destruction.)

But then we come around to: so why didn't Mo Xuanyu sic Wei Wuxian on Jin Guangyao, then?

In cql wwx does have a curse cut for jgy, to keep him in the plot and create an additional open storyline to resolve, since viewers are gonna be denied romantic catharsis, but in cql the homophobia plotline isn't there because all the gay is censored, and mxy allegedly hit on qin su instead. which is less utterly unhinged to do though still big wtf.

In the book, mxy summoned the Yiling Patriarch just to kill the Mos. (Which he didn't even do lmao.)

So I've always been sort of poking at that, like if you're destroying your own soul to get revenge, why spare the person who deliberately ruined your life?

Even if he had done the thing, it was weird! Maybe even weirder; if you're in a headspace where making sexual advances anyone should be able to predict are unwelcome seems like a good idea in the first place, there's a pretty good chance getting punished for them isn't going to make you think you were in the wrong. Otoh there is a zone where he could have done it, gotten the backlash, cleared his head a bit, realized it was fucked up to do, and therefore not held a grudge in that particular direction, but it's still weird. (And also he definitely didn't do the thing.)

But if he was so angry, why was he not angry at Jin Guangyao? Who definitely kicked him out of the Sect, all else aside?

And then I looked at the passage in Jin sect where we swap to Jin Ling's pov and he tells us one of the few first-hand things we hear about Mo Xuanyu: He thought Jin Guangyao was the most amazing person in the whole world. He adored him.

And being betrayed and rejected by him didn't turn that into resentment. Even though he resented the other side of his family enough to want them gratuitously murdered.

So you know what I think happened?

I think Mo Xuanyu thinks it was an honest misunderstanding. That Jin Guangyao, his idol, falsely concluded that his gay little brother was creeping on him based on a misinterpretation of his admiring behavior, and was appropriately revolted. And that Mo Xuanyu doesn't blame him for it. He blames himself.

He went back to his mother's family to rot genuinely feeling like the ruination of his life was his own fault for being creepy. And died like that.

Because of that, to a considerable extent. How can you bend any of your will to saving yourself, to getting out of an abusive situation and seeking a better one, when you don't think you deserve to be saved?

Fucks me up.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!

My Ghost.

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.

Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.

-¤°》◇《°¤-

I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.

People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'

"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.

People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.

Then he was dead.

Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.

Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.

Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.

He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?

"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."

"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.

He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.

"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"

"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."

I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.

"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.

"The details don't matter-"

"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'

"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.

"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.

When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.

"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.

"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.

"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.

"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"

"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."

He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.

He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.

He's wearing sneakers, today.

At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.

"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."

"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"

A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.

Billy was presumed dead.

There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.

I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?

About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.

"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"

"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'

I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.

He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.

"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.

"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.

I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.

Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.

"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"

"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.

"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.

"Fuck off," I snap.

"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.

"Just let me have-"

He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.

"Oh," Billy says quietly.

We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.

"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.

I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.

"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."

"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"

Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.

The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?

We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.

"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."

"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.

I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.

Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.

"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.

"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.

"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.

"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'

I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.

"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"

"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.

It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.

Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.

"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.

He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.

"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.

I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.

I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.

"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"

He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."

Great.

The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.

"Jesus," I say when it's over.

"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."

It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.

"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.

"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.

"You can't stay here," I choke out.

"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.

"I can't lose you again," I say.

"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."

My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?

"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."

My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"

"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."

A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.

Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.

But the same Billy.

"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.

"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."

Masterlist

As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3

[soulprompts]

"𝙎𝙃𝘼𝘿𝙊𝙒 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙀" - 𝙄𝙉𝙎𝙋𝙄𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙈𝙋𝙏𝙎.

hi friends!! basically, i watched the teaser trailer for season 2 of shadow and bone, got excited, began to reread the soc duology, and then these happened! or rather, i found an ancient unpublished fic i wrote after the first time i read the duology, and decided to make that a problem for everyone else! i hope you all enjoy these, you don’t need to have seen the show nor read the books, i actually think many of these are fairly fandomless! i just wanted to explain my inspiration! DON’T ADD TO THIS LIST! i’ll make more lists like this one! ily all, bon appetit, go forth and write or read or nap or watch tv or something!

" my goodness, you're not nearly as stupid as you look! "

" you have all the answers right in front of you. you just need to look at it differently. "

" don't presume that you know me just because you've heard a few rumors and read a few articles. "

" there's certainly more to you than meets the eye, isn't there? "

" i urge you to remember exactly who it is you're talking to. because while others might appreciate your tone, i assure you, i do not. "

" i'm concerned that you mightn't understand what discreet means. because the path of chaos you've just created is exactly the opposite of discreet. "

" you owe me a favour. i'm here to collect. "

" i thought it was a good time to pay you a visit. it's been so long, after all; and we have so much to catch up on. "

" you are not your father/mother/parent's child. not by anything other than blood, and that's not even on the spectrum of importance. "

" i was wrong about you. "

" you know, i was warned not to get involved with you. people insisted it was a fool's decision. but i held out hope that you'd prove them wrong. now's your chance. "

" i'm not the sort of person to fuss over hurt feelings. you're either of value to me, or you're worthless. so prove to me that you're not the latter. "

" you honestly think i don't know where you go each night? i'm not blind nor an idiot. i just trust your ability to return home unharmed. "

" have you told anyone else about this? "

" there are no children anymore. only survivors. childhood and innocence are luxuries afforded to the privileged. not us. "

" i offered you an opportunity once. to build a better world together. we both know how that turned out. and now, you come crawling back, begging for... what? mercy? forgiveness? "

" i'm with you. always. no matter what happens, i will be right by your side. do you understand? "

" we're a team, aren't we? teams stick together. even when the leader is being a prick. "

" ...i was really worried about you, you know. you scared me earlier. and i'm not saying it to make you feel bad, it's just... promise me you'll tell me if things get bad again? "

" i can't pretend to understand all this stuff you've got going on. but i do promise that i'll be here to help you through it all. alright? "

" there's a job that needs to be done before we get to work on the big task. that's why i'm here. you'll be helping me/us to complete both jobs. payment upon completion. "

" you and i aren't as different as you want to believe. that must be why you're so angry. because looking at me, all that i've done... it's like looking in a mirror. isn't it? "

" people are scared. they need a leader. and right now, like it or not, they're looking to you. so go on. lead us. "

" you've come up with some really insane plans over the years, but this is just defying any amount of belief. "

" look. i don't care if people underestimate me. i actually enjoy it. they see me as an idiot, they drop their guard, the end. but i need you to know that i'm not an idiot. okay? "

" people have died. we can't let that go unpunished. "

" the world is changing. and if we don't get ahead of it, then they'll be the ones to decide what it changes into. "

" right! what's the plan, then? and god help the lot of us if you don't have one. "

" not all of us can afford the luxury of a conscience. "

" don't make the deadly mistake of presuming my actions reflect weakness. too many have made that same presumption. and not a single one of them lived to tell the tale. "

" you're scared. i can tell. the shaking, the look in your eye... you want to run. don't. you'll waste precious time and energy, and you'll need it all if you want to live. "

" everything is gone. it's all smoke, ruin, obliterated. is that our legacy now? our reputation? destruction, devastation, death? is that who we are? "

" we've fought against powerful enemies before, but this is beyond that. if we want to get out of this alive, we need to be smarter, stronger, better than we've ever been before. "

" don't forget why we're here. there's far more at stake than our lives if this goes wrong. "

" you're the only person here i trust. we need to stick together, watch each other's backs. just because everything's changed, doesn't mean we have to, too. "

" i can't think of anyone i'd rather be doing this crazy, ridiculous, nearly definitely lethal mission with. let's go out with a bang, eh? "

" you people are completely insane. but you're also insufferably good at this sort of thing. so let's go save the world, shall we? "

" why are we fighting so hard to save the lives of people who hate us, anyway? "

" you're the best there is at this sort of thing. i'd hate to see the one who got the better of you... "

" look at them all. going around, fussing over money, clothes, land... do they ever realize what's going on around them? do they ever see the bigger picture as we do? "

" you're clever. good. it's nice to have a challenge. but you should know now, you'll want to be a hell of a lot smarter than that if you want to go up against me. "

" you and i both know the risks. we both know what people like them are capable of. tell me it's all okay, and i won't question you. but if it isn't... we need to be ready. "

" it's lonely and vicious at the top. i can handle that. but you... you wouldn't survive five minutes of this life. "

" you can't survive in this world without growing a thicker skin, and erasing that naive belief that you can trust anyone you meet. least of all me. "

" if you're knocking on my door, i can only imagine it means you're here to collect. and by your demeanour, it's one hell of a favor you'll be asking, too. "

" i understand your anger. i've lived with that sort of rage for many years of my life. but you need to set it aside, understand? we need you calm if we want to get out of here. "

" oh, don't get all sentimental. i saved your life because you're worth more to me alive than dead. it doesn't signify any degree of care or affection. "

" you have one hell of an inflated ego, you know that? we were told this job was impossible. that's not a challenge. that's a fact. it is not possible. even for you. "

" i've heard it all before. one more job. one more mission. one last heist. but there's always more. it's like some sort of obsession for you. searching for another thrill. "

" enough! this is it! don't you see that?! we almost died! you almost got killed! if the saints are kind enough to save us today, it's only so we can quit while we're ahead! "

[persefolli]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝐘𝐞𝐬

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @myheartfollower, @laylasbunbunny, @destinyl, @deadgirl02, @sweetllamaparadise

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐭. 𝟐 (𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝)

You walked into Jake's office,  sitting a bag of jewels and beads on his table, ones he’d gift to you. “I'm done Jake. I need to do this now before it's too late.” 

Jake looked up at you from his map and scoffed. “Mhm. You said that last time. I'll see you tonight.”

“We're done.” You said more intensely, you heard the shakiness in your own voice.

“You're so pretty when you try to be intimidating.” Jake looked back down at the paper and ignored you.

“Okay.” You nodded. “You wait and see.” You stormed out of his home.

----

Jake waited and waited in your designated meeting spot for what felt like hours. He looked at his watch,  then back at the trees in front of him. You were never late, and if anything you knew how much he hated waiting. 

He stood from his spot and went walking back to the village, walking straight to your tree where you slept. “Have any of you seen Y/n?” He asked your roommates.

“We just said goodbye to her earlier.”

“Yeah she moved.” Another said nonchalantly.

Jake felt his insides hollow. Moved? No. Couldn't be.

He walked further into the room, seeing that your belongings and hammock were empty. 

Like a drunk, he stumbled out of the tree, holding his chest realizing you were serious. He laughed at you, knowing that he would see you later but you were serious this time.

Jake stormed back home, where Neytiri was cleaning up the dinner that he had once again missed. “Jake, you're back early.” She approached.

“Don't you fucking touch me.” He snapped.

Neytiri was taken aback, shocked at his sudden anger. “Jake, is there something-”

“Neytiri if I hear your fucking voice again I swear to god you won't get a good nights rest for days.”

His wife stood bamboozled, unknowing of what happened in the last hour or so that made Jake like this. He didn't even get this angry at her when they had to temporarily leave hometree. 

Anger lodged into the leader like a parasite in a fish. The yelling started, the glaring, and the silent treatments remained. Everyone fell victim to his tantrums, even his most- trusted warriors.

Rumor spread that he was angry at Neytiri, for what reason? Who knows? Others said the demon he once was, came back to punish him for turning his back on the other Sky People.

These rumors drove Neytiri insane. She tried everything to make Jake happier, changing her hairstyle, her clothes, initiating alone time, even making him hold Neteyam for hours at a time to at least soothe his soul. But Jake remained a shell. He didn't even look towards Neytiri, and when he held his son his eyes fell grim.

At night Neytiri lay awake next to her husband, thinking. Any signs or any hints about what upset him,  because clearly this was bigger than her and their son. Then her mind went back to her lingering thoughts she had months ago.

The late night returns, the random scratches on his back, nicks all over his body, and the underlying scent of another woman.

“Jake.” 

He sat hunched over, holding Neteyam in his arms feeding him. He was silent, but his ears flinched up at the sound of Neytiri's voice.

“She left, didn't she?”

Jake snapped his head to look at his wife, but his face remained deadpan. Neytiri let out a frustrated groan and crossed her arms. “What has she provided all this time that you can’t even offer me the time of day?”

“Everything.” He finally spoke. “Everything she is, you are not.”

His jabs didn’t phase her much anymore, but it still hurt her to know that although his mistress left him, and she stayed by his side, he still yearned for the other woman.

You heard little chatters of these rumors, having moved to the outskirts of the village, but you only listened silently with no comments. Jake had to regulate his emotions on his own.

You missed him so, not going a minute without thinking about him, his hands, his whispers.

It was ridiculous how much you thought of him, but being together caused more damage to the both of you, and your families. 

[clonefrce99]

They see each other again | Charles Leclerc x reader

summary: after a good amount of time, you and Charles meet again.

author’s note: speed written this one and i actually liked it (surprisingly enough) so i hope you do it too <3 i didn’t proof read this very well so sorry if there’s any mistakes. I was kinda thinking about making a series about this couple? Tell me if you’re interested!!

warnings: it can be a little angst? per usual (sorry)

**it can be read as a 2nd part of ‘They don’t stay together at the end’ or alone.

5 years ago, you met Charles Leclerc. And since, you never forgot him - and life was committed to not let that happen in any way; and you tried. You truly tried to not remember those days you spent together as often as you do, to not smile whenever you hear someone say his name.

God, sometimes, while on dates or just talking with random strangers you met during a night out, you caught yourself comparing them to Charles.

5 years. It's been five years since Charles Leclerc ruined everyone else for you.

And he’s standing right there, on the same spot you saw him for the first time. He’s just a few meters from where you are with your friends. The cafe looks and smells the same. It feels like you traveled in time. You’re facing his back, and you’re a hundred percent sure it’s Charles because he’s the only one who thinks that horrendous stained pants look good.

Also, he’s the only one that somewhat looks good on it.

“Now that’s insane” your friend laughs realizing what is going on.

“Shut up! He can’t see me. Go!” you pushed them slightly towards the cabin where the other two were already seated.

“And why not?” she kept smiling, glancing towards Charles now and then before seating.

She started to take off their coat and you did the same, trying your best to not catch anyone’s attention.

“Because I’m sure he doesn’t remember me”

“And why do you think that?” the friend sat next to you arched their eyebrows.

“Because it’s been five years?” you asked as if it was obvious.

“Well, you remember him”

“Yeah but I’m still in love with him, of course I remember. And also: we are not the same people we were years ago”

You glanced at Charles, he was still at the balcony, talking freely with the employees while waiting for his order. He had a few people accompanying him and a phone in his hand. Your heart was beating fast, part of you wanting him to see you, to come and say hi, to sweep you off your feet again. You knowing he was single was doing no good for your mind.

“When we were drunk at Silvia’s house, you cried telling me you wished you’d meet him again in this life or in another one. Remember?”

“No, I do not” lies. You clearly remember.

“It was right after you called yourself dumb for not going to Monaco with him” your other friend provoked, winning a congratulatory small punch from the other one who sat beside them.

“Whatever, what’s your point?”

“My point is that if you’re both not the same as years ago, it’s practically another life” she shrugged, getting up and slapping your shoulder “Now move, I need to get to the bathroom”

You got up quietly, still trying not to catch anyone’s attention. You sat again, now stealing their place in the cabin; it was safer.

To say you were freaking out was an understatement. Your friends were having the time of their life, giggling and making jokes. You knew you were over reacting a little, but your friends failed to understand that Charles Leclerc was the Charles Leclerc. The Ferrari driver. The unofficial Prince of Monaco. You laugh at yourself with the thought.

Your friend came back talking about something random, completely stealing your attention.

You only relaxed when he left. You felt a heavy weight on your stomach during the whole time; another opportunity lost for fear of rejection. Fear of being hanging in a feeling only you had. Charles had girlfriends during this meantime, lots of rumors too. He was living while you were barely making it. Did he also have a shiver going down his spine whenever he saw someone that resembles you like you do? No. You’re sure he doesn’t. Why would he?

When you got to your apartment, still laughing from a silly joke your friends made before leaving you, the best thought occurred: the night called for a glass of wine and a good movie. You deserve a little solitude. Rain started to hit the window, setting the mood. Perfect.

If your afternoon has been a complete chaos, your night is going great.

You were about to sit on your couch, under the new covers you bought, when a knock on the door stopped you. Frowning, you wondered who it could be; usually, the doorman announces but not this time? One of your neighbors, maybe? You prayed it wasn’t the old lady from next door who loves to rent free your ear for her non-stop complaining.

“Who is it?” You asked, leaving the cup on the coffee table.

“Hi, I know this is weird but your friend told me you have a room to rent?”

The known thick accent made your legs quiver. Fuck. Your eyes widened, mind going miles per hour, I can’t believe this is happening! Shit.

You unlocked the door, opening slightly and leaning onto it. “Hi”

“Hi,” he replied. “Remember me?”

Your heart was beating so fast. The feelings you had started to flood your eyes. You couldn’t contain a smile. He was truly asking if you remember him?

“Maybe” you shrugged, winning a laugh from him. You opened the door enough to give him space to go in. Charles swallowed dry, hands rubbing his pants in a nervous movement. “So… looking for a room to rent, huh?”

“Tried to be funny and failed, I guess”

“Please sit” you pointed towards the sofa. “Wine?”

“No, thanks”

You nodded and got your glass, following his steps and sitting on the other end, facing him. You leaned your head in your hand, supporting your elbow on the back of the couch.

“How did you find my address?”

“Your friend”

Like a movie, a flashback ran through your mind. Of course they hadn’t gone to the bathroom when they said they were, and that’s why they were giggling and joking about you and Charles during the whole day.

Even though you knew you would kill them next morning? you were also thankful.

“These pants are horrible” it came out before you couldn’t even register what you said.

“What?” he frowned in surprise, leaning closer. You two laughed at his offended face.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking and just… anyway” you scratched the back of your head. That was going just great.

“God, I truly missed you” he told you in between giggles, leaning even closer and reaching for the hand you had supported your head and bringing your wrist for him to kiss.

“I missed you too” you intertwined your fingers and brought his hand close to your face, feeling his warmth. You leaned on it, kissing it right after.

You kept staring at each other. Silence was loud. Louder than any song or any crowd you already heard. No words needed to be said. The rain was hitting harder on the window and the city outside started to get quieter. Charles Leclerc. How did you survive all these years without having him there?

[quin-ns]

How you get the girl??

this one didn’t have a character with it so I picked Rafe since I need to write him more lol

takes place in like season 2 just throwing that out there for context

How You Get The Girl (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

The knock on the front door surprised you given that it was night and pouring rain. You were curled up on the couch reading, and your first reaction was to furrow your brows and peak out the window.

Except, it was dark and you couldn’t see given the angle.

You’d watched a lot of true crime shows—or at least enough to know you shouldn’t open the door for someone you didn’t know.

Because of that, you didn’t know why you did.

The words left your mouth the moment you saw your ex boyfriend on the other side.

“You’re insane.”

Rafe was standing there with no jacket, drenched and shaking in a way he tried to hide in the cold rain. The expression on his face changed from pensive to relief when he saw you.

It had been a while since you’d even seen him, it was like being in the presence of a ghost.

“Maybe,” he agreed with a small shrug. “Can I come in?”

You let out a sigh, glancing over your shoulder. You kept a firm grip on the door, keeping a barricade even though you doubted he’d slip past you. It was more of a reassurance for yourself.

Not because your parents weren’t home, but because Rafe had broken your heart.

You didn’t know if you could handle being alone with him.

Things had been going good when the two of you were dating. That is, until he left you all alone and never told you why. You’d heard some rumors about him in that time, but you never believed the darker ones.

Rafe had his problems, but Sarah and her friends running around calling him murderer was something you couldn’t bring yourself to believe.

Looking at him now, with that small, guilty smile on his face, silently asking you to indulge him even just for a moment, you found it hard to believe even the bad things you did know.

“Fine,” you finally decided, stepping back from the door and allowing him to enter.

Rafe crossed the threshold with caution, eyes on you to make sure he had your approval for every step.

“It’s been a while,” he said once you shut the door behind him.

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring him down.

“Who’s fault is that?”

Every morning you woke up wondering if you got over Rafe abandoning you, and every night you fell asleep knowing you hadn’t.

Except that realization came a little earlier tonight. You wanted to hug him and never let go. To ask him what happened, ask him why he left the way he did.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Rafe started off, knowing it was long overdue. “I’ve been wanting to come talk to you every day, but I…”

You tilted your head, silently goading him to continue.

“I’ve been too scared,” he confessed.

Shame was laced in his voice, and the look of guilt had only become more prevalent. He sighed a little and stepped closer. There was still a decent gap between where the two of you stood in your dark living room, but he seemed to take it as a good sign when you didn’t step back away from him.

“Scared?” you questioned. You didn’t mean to, but you scoffed. “Of me?”

Rafe looked away from you for a moment before pulling together the strength to look you in the eye.

“Of what you’d think of me,” he said, voice lower.

You furrowed your brows at that. Used to be he didn’t care what people would think. The only exception to that was for his dad—he only wanted to impress him. Otherwise, he was himself.

At first you wondered if Ward had anything to do with the break up, knowing he never liked you. He once told you that you distracted Rafe too much and that it wasn’t good for his son. You’d rolled your eyes at him and told him you and Rafe were staying together.

Looking at him now, hearing his words, you knew he was the only one at fault.

The only thing overcoming that unfortunate truth was your instinct to comfort Rafe. He looked so… sad. Disappointed in himself was more accurate, actually.

You stepped closer without a thought and looked up at him.

“You really hurt me, Rafe,” you confided.

“I must’ve lost my mind to leave you all alone like that. And not even telling you why…” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I just… I know what people say about me, what they think I did—“

“I never believed them,” you cut him off.

You weren’t planning on interrupting, but you wanted him to know.

Rafe swallowed and studied you for a moment. There was a flash of something in his eyes, but you couldn’t pinpoint it. You knew him so well, but sometimes he’d get a distant, unreadable look on his face that you couldn’t figure out.

“You didn’t?” he asked cautiously. You shook your head, confirming you in fact did not. “Well… thank you for that.”

“So, what? That’s why you left? You thought I’d believe some rumors over you?”

Rafe remained quiet.

“Why are you here?” you finally questioned, fighting back a glare and a frown.

“I thought maybe…” Rafe took a breath. “Maybe we could try again.”

You shouldn’t have been so surprised. You and Rafe had been madly in love, and then he practically disappeared from your life. There was a lot left unresolved, and your feelings never went away. It made sense that his didn’t either.

The part of you that still loved him wanted to accept right away, to jump in his arms and act like nothing had happened. The part of you that was still upset had something else to say.

“So, you just ditch me and think that you can come back? That everything will be okay?”

“No,” Rafe admitted, frowning at the knowledge of that. “I know it won’t be that easy. All I’m asking is if you can give me a second chance. We can take it slow, but I just”—Rafe swallowed and stepped closer—“I miss you.”

You were weak and you opened your mouth before your brain could stop you.

“I miss you too.”

You ran your hands over your arms, trying to bring yourself comfort. You watched Rafe watch you, wondering what was going on in his head.

Why now?

Why couldn’t he have come back months ago?

“It’s not that simple,” you continued.

You needed to protect yourself for now. Being vulnerable would come later, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. It was all so sudden.

“I’ll go,” Rafe said after a long moment. “I know you weren’t expecting any of this. Even if it’s long overdue.”

You struggled to find any more words, and for a moment you watched in silence as Rafe bowed his head and went to open the door.

“I’ll think about it,” you said suddenly, surprising even yourself.

He looked back at you, letting the smallest amount of hope creep into his expression.

“I’ll wait for you, whenever you’re ready,” Rafe swore. By the look in his eyes, you believed him.

When he exited, you moved to the doorway. You watched him as he walked all the way back to his truck before you finally shut the door. He gave you one last smile before you did so. When it was closed, you leaned back against the door and let out a breath you had been holding.

He broke your heart, that was undeniable, but now he wanted a chance to put it back together.

It was a chance you were willing to take.

[ctitan98official]

Anonymous: Donna Beneviento is my favorite character in RE8, thus I have a request: Donna meets the newcomer on the village, who happens to be skilled in healing magic. Upon meeting, they heal Donna's Cadou Scar to where she looks like her portrait; completely human but she can still control her powers. Donna falls in love with the healer and wants them to be hers and hers alone.

So, the last sentence of this request “Hers and hers alone” Made me… Want to go dark lol. Guess I’m just in a weird headspace lately and want to write about some crazy ladies 🤷‍♂️ As the story progresses, I want Donna to start developing yandere traits. The potential for angst (But also comfort) In this prompt is too good for me to pass up! Let’s get into it!

You found yourself in a quaint village nestled within the fog-shrouded valleys of Eastern Europe. The stories of its unsettling inhabitants and the tales of supernatural happenings sent shivers down the spines of most, but you were no stranger to rural towns and their local superstitions. Spooky happenings always turned out to be coincidence or had logical explanations, so you weren’t very concerned. As a skilled practitioner of healing medicine, you believed your abilities could be of help in this mysterious place.

You were able to find a nice little cabin to rent near the forest surrounding the village. You began by offering help to people with obvious maladies who you passed on your daily errands. At first, the villagers were wary of you. Outsiders were seldom accepted into the social fabric of the village. However, as word began to spread of your miraculous abilities, you soon had people flocking to your house for medical advice and assistance.

As your reputation grew… Someone else began to take notice.

Donna had been locked up in Beneviento Manor for decades. She couldn’t stand to be out in public where people could see her. That’s why she started wearing her veil. If she ever ventured out, her face was always covered. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it at least gave her some semblance of a barrier between her and other people. She also… Hated looking in the mirror. She had always been self-conscious of her looks but… The scar that was left by the cadou made her sick to even think about. When rumors of your healing practices reached her, she dared to dream. Tales of your work sounded too good to be true, but… What if you really could help her? Even just minimizing her scar somehow would bring her so much joy. So finally, after days of agonizing over what to do… She made her decision. She sent a messenger to give you a letter. In her note, she explained her situation and how she now lived her life in solitude because of her scar. She begged for you to come and assess her. 

Her story broke your heart. Of course you would help her. You set out the very same day with your supplies and made your way to her mansion. To be honest, it looked like the very definition of a haunted house. You stuffed down your sudden nerves and knocked on the door.

… You almost had a heart attack at what greeted you. 

A little doll, no taller than your knee, answered. She cackled excitedly when she saw your medical bag. “Oh… Are you here for Donna?” She asked.

Your eyes almost bugged out of your head. Can this doll… Talk? You stood there for a moment, not knowing how to respond.

The doll sighed and crossed her arms. “Wow, what a genius,” She snarked. “Are you sure you’re a medical professional?” She asked.

You flushed violently at her words. “I… I’ve just never spoken to a… Doll before,” You whispered, worrying that you were going insane. You blinked several times just to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

The little doll laughed. “Yeah, I am pretty stunning. It’s okay to be intimidated by my beauty,” She said proudly. “I’m Angie, Donna’s best friend. Why don’t you come on in. She’s waiting for you,” She giggled, waving you inside.

You couldn’t help but smile. This was the craziest thing you’d ever seen. Angie had sass and you liked her style. You thanked the little doll and followed her into the mansion. 

“So, what’s your name?” She asked curiously.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Y/N,” You said. It turns out that it’s a little hard to remember your manners when you’re talking to a literal toy.

Angie was about to say something back, but you… Totally embarrassed yourself just then.

You shrieked (Very unattractively) As you two turned a corner and entered a sitting area. You saw a near motionless woman standing and waiting there for you. She had a mourning veil on and her dainty hands were clasped tightly in front of her.

Angie tried to stifle her laughter, but failed miserably as she looked at your wide eyes. “Hahaha! What a scaredy cat!” She said, pointing at you.

Your cheeks once again turned bright red. Damn, what is with this place? You feel like a total imbecile today. “I-I… I’m so sorry! I just got startled for a second there. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone,” You tried to explain.

For as embarrassed as you were… Donna found that she quite liked seeing you flustered. She certainly wasn’t expecting you to be so good-looking, but your nervousness was adorable in and of itself. Plus, it felt good to not be the one apologizing all over herself for once. Thank goodness she was wearing her veil. She didn’t want you to know that she was smiling at how cute you were.

At Donna’s prolonged silence, you felt yourself start running your mouth out of discomfort. “I came to… Well, I guess you know why I came. You sent the letter, after all. Oh, by the way! I just wanted to mention how pretty your handwriting is! When I write, it looks like a total mess. Anyway, I made my way over as soon as I could. I had a rather difficult case this morning. That’s why it took me so long! I’m really sorry about that. I hope-”

“It’s fine, Y/N,” Donna eventually says softly, putting you out of your misery.

Angie’s eyes shoot to Donna in shock. Normally she has to voice what Donna is thinking to strangers. The doll suddenly adopts a shit-eating grin. She realizes that despite just meeting you, Donna feels safe in your presence. It’s meant to be… She can’t wait to be the flower girl at your wedding.

While Angie is busy planning you and Donna’s future together, you immediately stop talking when you hear the mysterious woman’s gorgeous voice. Wow. It’s all you want to listen to now.

“Why don’t we have a seat over here, Y/N,” Donna says, gently offering you a place to sit.

You shoot her a nervous smile, taking a moment to catch your breath. “Thank you, that sounds nice,” You say.

The two of you sit across from each other and Angie jumps up to cuddle on Donna’s lap.

You watch how loving Donna is with the little doll. She carefully adjusts Angie’s outfit and holds her close. It makes you smile at the display.

You soon begin to ask Donna some questions and get a bit of her medical history. “Would it be alright if… I asked you to take your veil off?” You ask after a while.

Donna bites her lip. She’s already beginning to like being around you. You’re so kind and intelligent. The last thing she wants is to drive you off with her appearance. But… This is why she summoned you here, after all. She has to be brave. She soon nods and begins lifting the covering from her face.

You gasp, soon overtaken by the sight in front of you…

Note: Hmm… I wonder what took your breath away, there at the end? I’m gonna break this into another part! I hope you enjoyed!

Masterlist

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

thinking about that one part in your naoya fic where he’s like “I’d hate for us to have a shotgun wedding” and imagining, he’d totally get reader knocked up the night they’re married. Then 9 months later his relatives would be all 🙄 because they totally thought it was an accident but no he’s just determined to start a family. he’d be so obnoxious when reader starts takings days off like :) hey isn’t it nice to stay home all day :) you could get used to this right :) you wanna quit your job

Well now you've got me thinking about Naoya gettin reader pregnant and shit goddamn sksksk

───────────────

Naoya would be RELENTLESS on your wedding night, holy fuck. He would insist on going as many rounds as possible, cumming inside you as many times as he can so that you're filled to the brim with cum. His breeding kink is running wild, thoughts of you growing round with his child making him go feral. Each time you think he's all done, he suddenly imagines you pregnant and then he's mounting you again 😔 Ends up fucking you eight times in total, he's just that obsessed with you 😔

It's really no surprise that you got pregnant after the intense wedding night you have. You announce your pregnancy and the whole family is like "wow, what a surprise 🙄😒" like they KNEW this was gonna happen, the Zen'in men are notorious for getting their wives pregnant as soon as possible so this is just par for the course sksksk. There would be rumors of it being a shotgun wedding but all the women know what the Zen'in men are like so the gossip doesn't last for long.

As for Naoya, he gets downright ANNOYING during your pregnancy. He keeps your pregnancy test until you start showing because he likes having a physical reminder of your pregnancy. Acts like you'll break if you do literally anything, so he doesn't let you lift a finger. Ends up doing a lot of chores just because he thinks that any kind of activity could harm the baby and he'd rather die than risk that. He complains about cleaning and cooking but he refuses to let you help. "You better be grateful that I'm being so nice and making dinner for you. Not every husband would subject themselves to woman's work like this. No, I don't want your help! You need to rest; what if something happens to the baby?!" Just so obnoxious sksksk

He just gets worse as time goes on. You start showing and he can't keep his hands off your tummy, always trying to feel the baby kick or move around. Always bragging about how "we're pregnant :)" and telling people how far along you are, as if he did anything more than pump his load into you 🙄 Loves going baby shopping despite complaining that it's something that the women should worry about. He just likes looking at all the clothes and toys and little trinkets he'll get to use once he's finally a father. It makes his tummy all fuzzy and happy and he gets this sweet dopey grin on his face that is just so cute and sincere.

Once you start taking time off, he doubles down on trying to get you to stay home for good. Just like you said, he's all "isn't this nice? :) Staying home and relaxing all day, taking care of yourself and the baby? :) Wouldn't you like to do this all the time? :) Don't you think it'd be nice to quit your silly job and let me take care of you two? :)" He's so passive aggressive about it like it's ridiculous!! Just wants you to be his little stay at home wife and have you take care of his kids. Gets so pissy if you refuse but can't do shit because you're pregnant and he loves you or whatever 😒

Just wait until the baby finally arrives, he will go INSANE. He's so obsessed with being a father, maybe bc of his upbringing and views on society but maybe also bc he wants to be a better dad than his own father was and he wants to make things right. I guess you'll just have to give him a chance and see how it goes...

───────────────

[ckret2]

Does bill have "a type"? Since you said he only dates every millennium, what kinds of stuff would catch this lunatic's eye? What would motivate him?

You're getting a read more because I listed every single blessed thing I could think of. The tl;dr:

artists (who depict him)

hot eyeballs (subjective)

no head

bright natural coloration

emotional doormats

party animals

nerds, provided they're also attractive other ways

worshipers

things that can injure him

getting gifts

someone who expresses interest first but lets him take the lead

really tacky expensive displays of wasting wealth

someone he thinks is similar enough to "understand" him

This is the first point because it's the answer he'd give: if you ASK him, he'll say he's "a complete sucker for those deep, brooding artist types." He'll say this like it's his biggest weakness. He says it like it's a charming little character flaw. This is the narrative he tells himself. What he ACTUALLY means is if you hit on him, and if you have created art of him (visual art, sculpture, music, poetry), the odds that he'll return the interest go up by 1000%. He is incredibly vain, he loves art of himself, and "willing to give Bill art of himself" is an insanely attractive trait.

Some species have sexy eyeballs. Other species don't. It just so happens that Earth, as a whole, has evolved an array of eyeballs that are by and large pretty sexy when compared to the multiversal baseline. Those little, like, thready filament things in the irises? Mesmerizing. Visible veins?? Drive him crazy. Bloodshot eyes? Gonna be haunting his fantasies for weeks. Top tier is those frog eyes with multiple colors or crazy crackly-looking patterns.

He's not a fan of heads. Like, when a species puts a face on a little bobbly looking thing separated from the rest of the body, rather than right on the torso where it belongs? Looks weird. It's not a dealbreaker but he's definitely more attracted to species that put their faces where they belong. Similarly, a mouth without an eye in it looks weird.

Big fan of bright colors. You know what's attractive? Looking like Lisa Frank colored you. Wearing bright colors isn't as good as being bright colors, but he still finds wearing bright colors to be an attractive trait.

If you combine the last three points, I think that I accidentally made Bill's ideal lover a poison dart frog.

Usually at some point pretty early in the dating process he's gonna say something like "Just so you know—really, I'm not as bad as all the rumors and gossip and ancient legends and globally-broadcasted warning PSAs make me sound. But: I am totally crazy. You wanna stick with me, you've gotta be cool with crazy." What he's looking for is someone who says "oh I am SO cool with crazy, I am the MOST cool with crazy, crazy is GREAT." When he says this, he's not saying "I'm actually mentally ill and need someone who's supportive and understanding." He's also not saying "I'm a wild crazy fun party guy and I want a partner who can keep up with that lifestyle." What he's saying is "I am an inconsistent and inconsiderate asshole who will show no regard for you, and in a year when you're complaining about the selfish harmful things I'm doing, I'll get to roll my eye and go 'I THOUGHT you SAID you were COOL with crazy. Are you NOT cool with crazy??' And then I'll complain about you to my friends." So: he'll focus on naive emotional doormats he can push around. He'll probably draw back from someone who stands up to him, unless he got seriously interested in them before they grew a spine.

But that said, he is also more likely to show interest in people who can keep up with his lifestyle. He parties with apocalypse machines. If he sees an alien at a party where three absolutely wasted demigods started mixing sink chemicals and accidentally set off a big bang that took out half the neighborhood, and the next weekend he sees that alien at another party? That means they party hard, they don't scare easy, they don't die easy, and they avoided the cops. That's somebody he wants to spend time with. If they're not lover material, they might be Henchmaniac material. Similar opinions on substance use and mass destruction a plus.

He's kinda into nerds. Not in and of themselves, but if they already hit other traits he likes, that's a plus. If he has a choice between two identical people and one's dumb as a rock, he prefers the one who knows lots of things and likes to share facts and trivia. Bill goes for long, long stretches without feeling curiosity, and those stretches typically coincide with when he feels most depressed; someone who can drive him to think a little bit is a godsend.

If someone literally worships him, like as a god, he's into that. It's not partner material but he'll put a star next to their name in his booty call list.

Any novel Extreme Sensations, he likes. Particularly pain. Not a lot of stuff can hurt him in his true form. If someone can make him feel pain, that's interesting to him. Not even necessarily in a BDSM way. If holding someone's hand feels like being electrocuted, or they give off a gas that makes everything too loud and makes him see weird colors? That's someone he wants to touch.

I think I've just added another trait to the "poison dart frog" column.

His love language is gifts & favors, both giving and receiving. If somebody gives him a gift, he'll remember them positively. Even if it's a kinda lame gift. It makes him feel liked. Roses & chocolates would work on him.

He's not liable to be the first to express interest, because he finds being rejected utterly devastating. On the other hand, he prefers to take the lead/call the shots in a relationship. So if somebody lets it be known that they're interested in him, but then hangs back to allow him to make the first move? Appealing.

He's a sucker for gold and tacky displays of wealth. Like he's sort of disgusted by wealthy people, but he's very into wealth. If you're rich have fun with it. If you're not ordering a $900 sundae coated with gold leaf just because you can then what's the POINT. Also, Bill is tacky. If some multidimensional billionaire decides to show an interest in him by gifting him an extremely ugly diamond-covered top hat, he'd probably let them do things to him that he wouldn't even confess to his doctor. (He doesn't have a doctor but.) I think what this boils down to is that he's only into rich people who are living like they want to go broke as soon as possible.

He goes through most of his existence feeling like Nobody Understands Him. Part of this is because he's bad at communicating his sincere feelings & emotional needs and even worse at relating to or caring about other people; but part of it is just because there's not a whole lot of people who can directly relate to "my ambition drove me to destroy my entire universe and ever since then I've been grappling with the paralyzing guilt while struggling to find a new universe." So when he DOES meet somebody who he believes can really, truly understand him the way most people can't? He emotionally latches onto them HARD. Not necessarily romantically, but it easily could be. This is last on the list but probably the most important point to getting a genuine emotional connection rather than fleeting physical attraction from him.

Example that hits multiple of the above points: one of his longest & most emotionally meaningful relationships was with a sentient black hole who—quite literally—destroys anyone who gets too close to her, and is constantly wracked with chronic pain due to being a fucking black hole. She did poetry at open mic nights. She'd go up to a mic and say something like "this poem is called The Taste Of Unwillingly Consuming The Solar System You Called Your Home" and then scream into the microphone for five minutes without pause. Bill was like "she's the only one in the multiverse who Gets It." He is a sucker for brooding artists. She let him get away with unspeakable things because he's one of the only entities powerful enough to get physically close to her and survive. Which was incredibly painful, but hey, he was into that too.

Maybe they'd still be together if she looked like a frog.

[queercontrarian]

obsessed with how the only way amarantha's plan could have worked is if the tamsand murders and revenge happened right before she came to prythian

imagine it happened, say 5-10ish years before amarantha started her mission. that's a short time for fae, right?

all the courts are extremely wary of each other because two ancient high lords and most of their families were just wiped out and no one except rhys and tamlin really knows what happened

there are so many rumors and everyone thinks someone is out to get them

on top of that both the spring court and the night court are not moving, which is a problem because they were kind of the driving forces in prythian. imagine it like if at the height of the cold war both the US and the soviet union imploded at the same moment and all the other countries are now like "well where the fuck does that leave us??"

rhysand isolates his court. he's grieving, he's dealing with the con and illyria, he's too busy with his own stuff to really care about the rest of prythian

half of tamlin's court is deserting, his father's men are leaving the government or they're being kicked out for their allegiance to his father and/or hybern

no one except tamlin likes seeing this because it makes everyone with power very nervous that lords and ladies with power are just getting kicked off their land like that

the other high lords don't trust tamlin because they think he is literally insane for doing what he's doing and also they don't know him because he wasn't who they thought would be high lord

they also don't trust rhysand because he's isolated himself to everyone and is also letting everyone run with the villain era assumptions

the nobles who were kicked out of the spring court seek refuge in hybern and tell the king what's going on over there hoping that he'll help them get back their land

he's like "i'll do you one better" and sends amarantha

she goes to all the high lords and is like "no totally the other courts are really untrustworthy and what happened with spring and night is crazy"

"we would totally never do this to you"

"and also if you wanted to become the new superpower in prythian now that night and spring are out we would totally back you 👀"

and because the high lords are all stupid and power hungry they believe her

and no one listens to tamlin when he voices concerns about amarantha because he only tells them what they already know (the war) and what is long in the past (how she creeped on him when he was a kid) and they already don't like him so who cares what he has to say

rhysand isn't saying anything either way, but everyone knows that he doesn't want to talk about tamlin, even less talk with him or be in the same room

while he's busy with velaris and illyria he kinda leaves the con to keir who immediately invites amarantha because he does not want to lose the night court superpower status by missing out on hybern's support

and rhys thinks he can kinda use amarantha's reputation to craft his own mask as "the evil guy" (which we know ends up backfiring spectacularly)

lucien also just came to the spring court

he's like 100something years old, he's just lost everything and tamlin just saved his life so of course he's young and stupid and very loyal to him and very loud about voicing his opinions about people he and tamlin don't like

also it makes sense that the former emissary would have deserted and instead of putting some guy in the position who might have already worked for his father tamlin just looks at lucien and is like "you know people, right? you need a job?"

and then when the masquerade ball comes around it's literally the first time tamlin and rhys are in the same room since the murders

and half of the reason why rhys doesn't bring the ic is that he doesn't trust amarantha but the other half is he thinks azriel and cassian might actually just try to kill tamlin if they got anywhere near him

so he goes alone

and is immediately distracted when he sees tamlin, and he doesn't pay enough attention to his surroundings, and he can't do this sober and oh my fucking god he underestimated how terrible this was going to be and oops

now they're all cursed

this would also explain how rhys and tamlin haven't gotten very far with changing their courts (tamlin falling back on his father's methods in acomaf and rhysand only having formally forbidden wing clipping and minimal training for females in illyria without any actual measures to back it up). change would be slow if they've only been in power for like, 60ish years (minus the 50 years utm)

[nevernonline]

✧.* svt as songs from 1989 (taylors vrs)

happy 1989 day to all my bbs celebrating!! xoxo. idk whose but one of these will prob end up being a full fic vv soon give me a suggestion lol im indecisive 🩵😌

seungcheol: i wish you would.

"2 AM, here we are see your face, hear my voice in the dark. we're a crooked love in a straight line down. makes you wanna run and hide but it made us turn right back around. i wish you would come back, wish i never hung up the phone like i did, i wish you knew that I'd never forget you as long as i live and i wish you were right here, right now, it's all good i wish you would."

jeonghan: is it over now?

"was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? "come here," i whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out, baby. was it over then? and is it over now?"

joshua: new romantics.

" 'Cause baby, I could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me. and every day is like a battle but every night with us is like a dream. baby, we're the new romantics, come along with me. heartbreak is the national anthem, we sing it proudly. we are too busy dancin' to get knocked off our feet. baby, we're the new romantics the best people in life are free"

junhui: wonderland.

"flashin' lights and we took a wrong turn and we fell down a rabbit hole. you held on tight to me ’cause nothing's as it seems and spinning out of control. didn't they tell us, "don’t rush into things"? didn't you flash your green eyes at me? haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds? oh, didn't it all seem new and exciting? i felt your arms twisting around me, i should have slept with one eye open at night. we found wonderland, you and i got lost in it"

soonyoung: how you get the girl.

"stand there like a ghost, shakin' from the rain. she'll open up the door and say, "are you insane?"say, "it's been a long six months" and you were too afraid to tell her what you want. and that's how it works that's how you get the girl and then, you say i want you for worse or for better i would wait forever and ever. broke your heart, i'll put it back together, i would wait forever and ever and that's how it works. that's how you get the girl."

wonwoo: blank space.

"nice to meet you, where you been? i could show you incredible things. magic, madness, heaven, sin saw you there and I thought "oh, my god, look at that face. you look like my next mistake love's a game, wanna play?" new money, suit and tie i can read you like a magazine. ain't it funny? rumors fly and i know you heard about me. so, hey, let's be friends i'm dyin' to see how this one ends, grab your passport and my hand i can make the bad guys good for a weekend."

jihoon: you are in love.

"morning, his place burnt toast, sunday, you keep his shirt, he keeps his word and for once, you let go of your fears and your ghosts. one step, not much, but it said enough. you kiss on sidewalks, you fight and you talk one night, he wakes strange look on his face pauses, then says "you're my best friend" and you knew what it was, he is in love."

dokyeom: suburban legends.

"i didn't come here to make friends we were born to be suburban legends. when you hold me, it holds me together and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever. i know that you still remember we were born to be national treasures. when you told me we'd get back together and you kissed me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever."

mingyu: wildest dreams.

"he's so tall and handsome as hell, he's so bad, but he does it so well and when we've had our very last kiss, my last request it this. say you'll remember me standin' in a nice dress starin' at the sunset, babe. red lips and rosy cheeks say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams."

minghao: i know places.

"you stand with your hand on my waistline it's a scene and we're out here in plain sight, i can hear them whisper as we pass by. it's a bad sign, bad sign. somethin' happens when everybody finds out, see the vultures circlin', dark clouds. love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out. 'cause they got the cages, they got the boxes and guns. they are the hunters, we are the foxes and we run baby, i know places we won't be found and they'll be chasing their tails tryin' to track us down. 'cause i know places we can hide"

seungkwan: sweeter than fiction.

"seen you fall, seen you crawl on your knees, seen you lost in a crowd, seen your colors fade. wish i could make it better, someday you won't remember this pain you thought would last forever and ever there you'll stand, ten feet tall i will say, "i knew it all along" your eyes are wider than distance this life is sweeter than fiction"

vernon: now that we don't talk.

"you grew your hair long you got new icons and from the outside it looks like you're tryin' lives on i miss the old ways. you didn't have to change, but i guess i don't have a say now that we don't talk. i call my mom, she said that it was for the best remind myself the morе i gave, you'd want me less i cannot bе your friend, so i pay the price of what i lost and what it cost, now that we don't talk."

chan: slut!

"send the code, he's waitin' there the sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air. everyone wants him, that was my crime, the wrong place at the right time and i break down, then he's pullin' me in. in a world of boys, he's a gentleman."