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kikirites · 3 months

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☆彡 Absolute green flags

༄ starring: K. Kozume , and B. Kotaro

༄ warnings: gn reader

| K. KOZUME — PUTTING IN THE EFFORT

“Can you come over, please? It's fine if you're too busy”

“Yeah, I'll be there in 20 minutes”.

Staring at your phone, you turned it off and fell back onto your bed with a huff. College was kicking your ass. So much so that you almost felt like dropping out. The only person that was helping through it was Kenma. He did things for you that he would be able to do without you saying anything. Sometimes you feel like he knows you better than you know yourself. Recently you’ve been pretty stressed about your upcoming exam. You barely understood the material so you didn't exactly know what to study for, your parents had been nagging you about your grades, and it felt like your professor had it out for you with how many questions she asked.

It was all so draining and you couldn't catch a break. All of your time was dedicated to looking things up and trying to start studying somewhere. Kenma didn’t have a clue about what was going on because you thought that he would be too busy to listen and you didn't want to bother him because of how he told you earlier that week, that his subordinates were starting to get on his nerves because of how they always leave things up to him, thus making him work harder and longer. So you just stayed quiet.

While walking to your apartment complex he realized that he probably should've brought a coat as it was the beginning of fall. He silently cursed the world for making this year's fall so cold while he started walking faster to get to you. Once he got to your apartment he put in the key you gave him inside the hole and made it inside. When he got in, his body felt a rush of warm air that helped heat his body from the cold atmosphere outside. Something he greatly appreciated. Sighing in satisfaction, he took his shoes off at the door and walked towards your room down the hall where he saw you under your comforter and the light emitting from your TV.

“Hi ken” you began, hearing him come in just a second ago. “ I missed you”. The first thing Kenma took notice of was your expression. You looked stressed; overwhelmed even, and it seemed like you had been up all nigh. Judging from the scattered papers on your desk told him you had. “I missed you too,” he said as he made his way over to you while passing the eye-catching mess of lined paper sprawled over your desk.

Raising your comforter and scooting over a bit to make room for him, you silently signaled him to get in. Understanding what you meant he got in while making himself comfortable as he rested his hands on your waist. All was silent. Nothing was said as you both basked in each other's presence. Pulling you closer to him, kenma opens his mouth as he prepares to say something. “I got your text, do you want to talk about it?”. You didn't know if you did because you didn't want all those frustrations building back up and you didn't want to focus on them, but on the other hand, you knew that opening up would probably make you feel better so that's what you did.

You told him about everything that had been happening at school and with your parents and how it's just too much. He was shocked. “Why didn't you tell me?” he asked incredulously. You were nervous to answer but ultimately did, so to save yourself from embarrassment, you hid your face in his chest. “You were busy and you were upset because of your Co-workers so I didn't want to bother you”. When you got done talking, he just looked at you with sadness and (if you looked closely) a hint of guilt.

Kenma never had much luck at comforting people so he just went with his gut. But he would always try his damn near hardest for you if it meant it would cheer you up. The thing is, you both had this routine where you both did each other’s skincare. He didnt really like it all too much mainly because some of the products would kinda burn and because it took so long. But he knew how much you liked these spa days and he knew how much you love spending time with him, so he relented.

Kenma gets up and walks towards the bathroom outside your room. He rummages through your cabinets and you can hear products clacking against each other as he looks for what he needs. What is he doing? You thought. All you see is the bright light from the bathroom, lighting the dark hallway. After a couple of minutes go by, Kenma comes back and turns on your bedside lamp making you scrunch your nose and squint your eyes from the sudden light.

What are you doing? you ask him. He says nothing while opening and closing his hand, silently asking you to take it, and you do. With a small smile on his face, he leads you to your bathroom, and then you see what he’s doing. On your counter and the side of the tub sat your different arrays of skincare products. “Remember our skincare routine?” he grins “I thought that doing it would help make you feel a little better,” he tells you while averting his eyes to the very interesting-looking tile on the floor.

“Thank you ken, I appreciate it,” you say while moving forward to hug him. You knew that Kenma wasn't a fan of your skincare nights, but it made your heart skip a beat knowing that despite his dislike for it he still did it for you.

| B. KOTARO — TRUSTING YOU

You knew that Bokuto was a pretty social person, and although some might see this as a problem you didn't. That's just how he was and you never tried to keep him all to yourself because you just weren't like that. While there were times when you were a little weary about a certain person getting too handsy with him, you made sure to communicate your feelings so they didn't get in the way of your relationship.

The sun was already starting to set and Bokuto was helping his teammates put everything back in their place before they left. Before that day, Bokuto told everyone to give it their all before they went up against Karasuno so he proposed the idea of practicing. The day went by quickly and fortunately, it was time for everyone to leave as they were just about done with Bokuto’s antics, especially Akaashi. “Y’know Akaashi, I was thinking about a new maneuver we could do to crush Karasuno when we go up against them,” Bokuto said as Akaashi and him walked out of the gym doors. The air was crisp and there was a slight breeze in the wind. Akaashi felt a little more rejuvenated as he felt the calm breeze dance across his face.“Yeah, I think you should just stick to what you're already doing” Akaashi muttered. “Hey come on, don't give me that! It's good to switch things up once in a while” he yelled, pointing to Akaashi accusingly, because for some reason the setter didn't understand his point of view. Meanwhile akaashi paid him no mind as he just kept walking. Poor boy just wanted to get home. After a little back and forth between the two, they eventually bid each other farewell.

After he said goodbye to Akaashi, Bokuto was on his way to the front of Fukurodani to see you so the both of you could walk home together. He was very grateful that your extracurriculars were let out at the same time as him, that way he could see you before he went home. Once the front of the school was in his sight, his golden eyes immediately searched for your figure, and once he saw you he started to jog towards you before slowing down after seeing another person with you. A guy. But not just any guy, the school player. Issei Takahashi. Now Bokuto didn't have anything against the guy but he knew that he would flirt with any girl he saw and just got out of his 6th relationship that month. Yeah, he was counting so what? No harm done right? Bokuto knew that he knew that you were in an established relationship, but for some reason that didn't stop Issei from turning you into his next target.

Before you start jumping to conclusions, no Bokuto Kotaro was not jealous. Him? Jealous? No way. Never. Bokuto trusted you. He knew that you wouldn't cheat on him. So he shoved those thoughts into the back of his mind and strode towards you. “Hey babe, did ya miss me?” he beamed as he intertwined his hands with yours. “I always do Bo,” you said while smiling at him. “Hey Bo you know Issei Takahashi, right? He's in your English class” “Hey, man. Bokuto right?” Issei asked. Bokuto decided to just act normal that way you didn't see how he was a little bothered by him. “Yeah, nice to meet you, dude,” he spoke. “ Issei and I were just going over the project in chemistry and we decided it was best to write down our results instead of doing a video” you explained while twirling his fingers within your grasp. “we're gonna go to the art room for supplies tomorrow so we're gonna be together kind of the whole day,”Issei had a smug smirk on his face, feeling so proud of himself and so confident.

Issei knew that you and Bokuto were a thing and he had so much confidence in himself that he just knew he could take you away from him. Bokuto knew what he was doing and his smile faltered for a split second before smiling again. “ Well I'm sure you guys are gonna do great,” he spoke. He knew there was no point in getting angry or jealous because, at the end of the day, you were the one walking home with him. So he let it go. After a while, you decided to cut the conversation with Issei short. “Well issei, I'll see you tomorrow. Good night!” you waved at Issei and walked away from the school with Bokuto.

Halfway through your walk to your house, bokuto spoke up. “Hey [name]” “Yeah?” “ Promise me you won't leave me for someone like him okay?” laughing at his sudden choice of words, you squeezed his hand. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Bo”

a/n: whew! That took me wayyyy too long to finish. My writers block was off the hook 😭

reblogs are appreciated!

#kikirites #haikyuu x black reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader #haikyu x reader

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creelteeth · 2 years

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idea: maybe reader is touching herself and ofc perv! steve is gonna be a peeping tom and watch her but then he figures out she’s moaning his name and….you can take it from here!

this is one of my favorite tropes !!

perv!steve x reader except steve has no idea that reader is into him.

cw: fem reader , breeding kink, voyeurism, handjob! , bad abrupt ending (i rlly hate writing endings i will never write a good one pls forgive me)

two hours late— steve was two, hours, late, to movie night. it was the third time this week he’d gotten caught up and you were bummed. taking apart the cozy den you’d set up in the living room to go upstairs to bed. by this point it was almost midnight and you figured he just wasn’t coming. he’d called a while ago , saying he’d be there in ten but ten minutes became an hour and you were getting sleepy.

moping your way up the stairs to your room you didn’t even bother locking the front door; small part of you still hoping he might still show up even though all signs pointed to an absent steve. you found yourself laying in bed for a while, unable to fall asleep; your mind far too clouded by the likes of the very person you were missing. steve.

you weren’t upset that he was there, confident that he had a good reason , that he’d make it up to you — but the room felt empty. however, what started as silly little thoughts about missing your best friend soon turned into daunting ones that caused a stir in your hips. images of him flashed through your head. his pretty pink lips, big hairy chest, the sound of your name in his mouth. there were so many things you could fixate on but nothing made you more worked up than the way his jeans fit him.

it was so clear that he had a big cock. you tried to picture it. tried to trace it with your eyes every time he was with you, sometimes you swore you could see the outline of his big fat tip. it was almost enough to make you salivate. wondering what he’d taste like, how it would feel, if you could even fit it in your throat like you so desperately wanted to.

it was about this time that steve pulled up to your house. he knew it was late, and he felt awful but he wanted to see you. needed. to see you. when he pulled into the driveway and saw every light off he contemplated going home but remembered what you said on the phone about leaving it unlocked for him. he couldn’t let you sleep all night with the door unlocked so he decided to check. making his way up to the entrance, twisting the knob for it swing open. welcoming himself inside as per usual.

there were no signs of you still being awake when he roamed about the bottom floor — at least not until he got closer to the stairs. distant muffles came from the second floor. steve could tell it was you, pitiful sounding whimpers echoing through the hall. his heart sank. were you crying? he felt awful. never wanting to make you so upset. he kicked his sneakers off by the door, gripping tightly on the little stuffed bunny he’d brought to you as an im sorry for being so unreasonably late. the further he got up the stairs the louder the noises became.

stopping dead in his tracks on his way to you when he finally got a grip on what was really happening. are you? no. you aren’t. there’s no way you’re doing that. steve felt his cock throb, the noises he thought were coming from a place of upset seemed to be coming from somewhere far different. a good friend would turn around and leave, they’d pretend this didn’t happen to keep from embarrassing you but if we’re being honest — steve has not been a good friend lately.

he crept up to your slightly parted door, careful to avoid the side of the floor that creaked so that he didn’t disturb your filthiness. god — he must be fucking dreaming right now, right? the sounds of your pretty moans mixed with the sticky squelch of your seemingly desperate cunt sent shockwaves over him. he could hear every bit of it. every plunge of your fingers into your greedy little fuck hole made a sickly sound. if only he could come in and help you fix it. teach you how to do it properly so that you weren’t struggling to much to find the right spot.

the crack in your door was small but not too small that he couldn’t see you. fuck, you are beautiful. laying there with your legs apart desperately humping your fingers while the other toyed with your puffy little nipples.

steve settled himself in the shadows of the hallway, pressing the little stuffed rabbit against his crotch. his hips rolling lazily against the soft plush to relieve some of the ache. there was a voice in the back of his head reminding him that this was wrong. that is was disgusting to invade your privacy like this but he could not help himself. he’d gotten this far. you weren’t gonna know so it was fine.

he told himself he was just gonna watch, gonna let you finish then he’d pretend he just got there and act like he missed the whole event. that plan seeming to falter when you started to mutter sentences. he could feel himself leaking through his jeans onto the toy, the tip of his cock desperate for some sort of reprieve. steve chewed mercilessly on his bottom lip, doing his best to not make a sound when he stuffed a hand down the front of his pants. smearing the dampness around the swollen end, his thumb brushing only slightly over the slit. every part of his body craved yours. every bit of respect he had for your privacy had been lost.

your body began to tense up, mouth spewing a string of words. “fuck! oh my god fuck me. please—.. please stevie.”

your orgasm built, eyes screwing shut, thighs clamping down around your wrist. the climax crashing against you like a wave and his name fell from your lips with ease. like it was something you said all the time. unbeknownst to steve, it was.

poor steve didn’t realize that he was no longer being quiet. the groans he was stifling before now much louder. he was blind to the fact that he wasn’t watching you from a soundproof box. his name in your mouth almost making him spill cum all over the gift he wanted so badly to bestow upon you.

it took a minute for you to hear him. when you did you gasped, bringing the blanket up to cover the mess that’d dripped all over the place just seconds prior.

“w-who’s there?” your voice weary, heart thudding in your chest. no one was suppose to be home it was just suppose to be you.

the breathy grunts from outside the door came to a quick stop. familiar voice whispering a ‘shit, shit , shit’ at the notion of being caught peeping. you could hear him scuffle around, the sound of his zipper yanking up made your stomach churn.

“steve?” you called out again, unable to get up from the bed without risking him seeing your bare bottom half. “is that you?“

what on earth is he doing? … did he hear all that?

steve scrambled for a second longer, using his hand to wipe his worried look away before nudging the door open. pretty pink bunny in front of his crotch.

he offered a wary smile, free hand giving you an awkward salute. “uh.. hey, you said , said the door was unlocked i just wanted to check on you. sorry to scare you.”

he did his best to remain nonchalant despite his face being bright red. the little pink toy not doing a very good job at covering the half zipped pants, his swollen cock begging to be set free from the restraints of the denim.

you knew he’d seen you in the compromised position. something about that made you ache. there were so many nights you invited him over hoping he’d stumble in to catch you in such an unladylike position. hoping he’d do something to help take care of the mess between your legs that he caused.

“ ‘s okay… is that for me?” you questioned, eyes scanning over the bunny, and the stretched fabric behind it.

steve nodded stiffly, walking over to hand it to you. he was trying his best not to look down at the part of you that was now covered in the duvet. he knew it was bare under there. slick and swollen too. he could smell it when he walked into the room, the scent of your sex making his stomach burn.

you took the plushy from him, giving it a tight squeeze— nuzzling your face against where he was just using to relieve himself. the faint smell of his musk still lingering on the synthetic fur. you rubbing your face on the toy made him cough, choking on his spit.

“just wanted to drop this off.. i’ll let you get to bed since it’s late.” he felt bad for bolting but truthfully he couldn’t stand to be in there much longer. his cock reaching a point of painfully solid and he needed to get a handle on it.

“no!” you pouted, pulling on his wrist to make him sit next to you. your confidence wavering. “can’t you spend the night? i missed you .. a lot”

steve couldn’t say no to you, especially when you were looking up at him with those big googly eyes. he only nodded, knowing that if he spoke he might choke on his words again. sat next to you, he could hear the wetness between your thighs when you squirmed around beside him.

jeez— he was so clueless

deciding to take a leap of faith, you attempted to mess with him. hand coming up to rest on his thigh, dangerously close to the throbbing area just above it. you could hear the breath leave him, giggling at the way his whole body tensed up under such a light touch.

attempting to egg him on, you snuggled in by his side. your index and thumb grabbing at the half open zipper, tugging it only slightly. “stevie .. your fly’s down.”

he swallowed thickly, hand coming down to grab at your wrist. his brown eyes darkening just a bit. “don’t do that.”

“do what?” you questioned, wriggling out of his hold to continue yanking on the zipper , pulling it farther down. “this?”

he couldn’t reply back, settling for cutting his eyes at you. if he opened his mouth he wasn’t sure what would come out and even now, steve was trying to remind himself that he was a good boy. that he can’t cross these boundaries with his best friend. it’s not right. though you and him both knew that was now in the past.

“were you watching me.. y’know?” you questioned, eyes flickering down to your legs, thighs squeezing together. the question making his face go red. you knew he felt guilty, but the undeniable twitch of his cock gave you all the answer you needed.

now that the zipper was all the way down, you moved up to the button, fumbling with it. “it’s always you that i think about , when i’m doing that.. do you ever think about me too?”

he dropped his head back against the headboard, scooting down to give you easier access to the button that held his pants closed. glossy eyes fluttering shut, giving you a shameful nod. “all the time.”

you popped the button open, moving from beneath the blanket to sit on your knees beside his outstretched legs. his gaze still stuck on the ceiling, partly in disbelief that this was actually happening for him. you grabbed at the sides of his jeans, yanking them down his big hairy thighs, underwear with it. his cock sprang out, bright red tip smacking against his stomach pulling a hiss from him. the sheer size making your mouth drop open. you knew it was big, but not that big.

once the pants were down far enough you climbed over into his lap, one thigh on either side of his muscular ones. “look at me.” you huff, hands resting on his lower stomach waiting to him to stop being so tense.

doing as he was told his eyes met yours, slowly scanning over the rest of you. big warm hands slipping under the sheer little nightie you wore to smooth over your soft skin. “ fuck— you’re gorgeous.”

your back arched into his touch, his softness nearly making you shy away. though your eagerness seemed to take precedence, both hands moving down to grab his cock. you ducked down, spitting on the sensitive red tip, one hand making short shallow pumps at the base while the other spread the wetness around the tip. the sudden contact to his leaky tip making him whimper. the pathetic sound pushing a smile onto your lips.

leaning forward you pressed your forehead against his, your hands making uncomfortably slow strokes of his cock. the closeness of it all made you shiver.

“tell me what you think about when you’re doin’ this to yourself.” your question mixed with the movements of your hands made him moan out, hips rocking up against your touch.

“think about..” he spoke slowly, breathing unsteadily. he was doing his best not to cum right then and there— big hands holding your hips tightly. “think about that pretty pussy of yours.”

his words managed their way out, his head falling against your shoulder. he was coming undone snd you’d only just begin with him. he just couldn’t fucking believe you were doing this.

“what about it?” you asked, kissing a line from his ear to his neck. when he didn’t respond you reached a hand below his cock, giving his fuzzy balls a rough squeeze.

he buried his face in the curve of your neck, whimpering pitifully in response. “think about .. about bending you over the bed and fuck— fucking you raw.”

you hadn’t expected him to succumb to you so easily, but something about the way he was falling apart beneath you was beyond satisfying. your strokes began to pick up. lips, tongue, and teeth working against the tan skin of his neck. the combination of things pulling the most amusing sounds from him.

“raw? you wanna fuck me full of you cum?” the tone of your voice was condescending, almost mocking.

he babbled a quiet string of “yes, god, yes. please,” into your skin.

“bet you wanna fuck a baby into me don’t you? fuck me full of cum.. breed me to your liking,” you prodded him with those words, knowing it was something he loved. you found that out the day you went snooping and found his porn. every one of them revolving around a woman getting creampied

you could feel steve slowly working his way to his end. his heavy cum filled balls starting to swell up and tighten in your grasp but you kept a steady pace, wanting to keep him as docile as possible for as long as possible. soon he was taking matters into his own hands, desperately fucking upwards into your sticky wet palm. he was babbling, practically drooling into your skin, begging at this point to let him fuck you full of his cum but you weren’t quite ready to give that to him yet. rather enjoying milking this sort of response out of himself.

“um gonna—“ he breathed out, but before he could finish his sentence his cum was spurting out. it sputtered out of him and all over your hands. there was so much that spilled out of him it nearly took you by surprise. you kept your hand there, allowing him to fuck the opening for as long as he needed in order to come down from the mess of his orgasm.

after some time he’d calmed down — leaning back against your headboard, utterly fucked out from just a simple handjob. it was incredible. he watched you through lidded eyes; muttering a fuck under his breath at the sight of you licking his cum off your hands, not missing a single drop.

you finished cleaning him off you before scooting up to sit on his lower stomach, kissing his lips that had been bitten almost bloody. he held you closely, as if he couldn’t bear to have any space between you from this point on.

“you know, you should really close the door if you’re gonna masturbate.” he quipped, offering you a lopsided grin.

you gasped playfully, using two fingers to poke at his chest adding emphasis to certain words. “and you, should stop creeping around in girl’s houses late at night.”

#casey answers #perv!steve #when he’s all pathetic n needy :(#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #s.h.#casey writes

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dangermousie · 8 months

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A pusher post: What Happened in Bali (2004)

This monster hit of a drama (also known as Something Happened in Bali) starred three about to become huge stars - Ha Ji Won, Jo In Sung and So Ji Sub. It's one of my favorite kdramas of all times and was HUGE when it aired, but because it's almost 20 years old, is nowadays less known than it should be.

youtube

My elevator pitch for it would be: "What it's like to be the object of (adult) Domyouji's obsession in real life." Answer - misery and self-destruction.

The plot seems fairly straightforward and revolves around four individuals, all of whom are damaged and none of whom are that likeable but some of whom (if you are me), you end up loving anyway.

Ha Ji Won is Soo Jung, a poor girl working as a tour guide who ends up being torn between attentions of two very different and very damaged men - the icy, ambitious, poor one played by So Ji Sub and a volatile, abused car crash about to happen wealthy one played by Jo In Sung. (In possibly my favorite performance of his ever.) The fourth main character is a wealthy young woman played by Park Ye Jin who was in love with So Ji Sub but threw him over for the status and money of arranged engagement with JIS.

Bali is a very dark drama, in a way dramas really aren't today. Yes, of course there are dramas with damaged or even negative protagonists, tragedy, and darkness. But what old kdramas sometimes had is a certain grinding every day aspect of misery, if it makes sense. It is not larger than life, there is no message, it's not healing. It's broken people trying to get through soul-crushing darkness and being ugly about it and often failing.

Ha Ji Won, the pivot of the story, is not happy or noble. She is desperate and grasping; she wants money and she wants love and she wants everything, anything to feel the gaping hole in her soul. I knew the story wasn't going to be your usual one when I saw the scene where Jo In Sung's character Jae Min offers her $$$ for a one-night stand and she calls him a jerk (and you see by his reaction he doesn't even understand that what he said was insulting - he is puzzled. In his world, everything can be bought and sold, and there is no such thing as affection) and then asks whether he is going to pay before or after. In her world, there is no room for the grand gesture, for throwing money in his face. She leaves only because he kicks her out (giving her money but not doing anything - which is so telling) telling her to buy her new shoes (hers are broken) and saying "it's not fun any more" (the first of many instances she really throws him off any usual ways he deals with things). And then she trips on her broken heels walking out, sprawling in the lobby, inelegantly grabbing and picking up money.

When we first see her, she seems mostly well-adjusted but the more the story progresses, the more we see she is just as broken as Jae Min, who just be the most broken kdrama ML that I have come across. (So Ji Sub's character In Wook has frozen himself and somehow avoided some damage that way; it doesn't hurt that his damage unlike SJ and JM's isn't reinflicted over and over; and Yeong Joo, our secondary girl, is largely content - she mostly accepts the devil's bargain she made for money.)

One of the biggest pleasures of this drama for me is contrasting in the way Jae Min is going to be with Soo Jung eventually - utterly desperate and brought down and willing to beg and beg and beg, and the way he is at the start - emotionally detached, with all the 'power' on his side - I mean, contrast his propositioning her for that one-night stand and the scene where they finally make love, a dozen eps from then.

BUT! And I think this is one of the reasons I love this drama so much - it is not a story of love as salvation, it is the story of love as damnation. As far as Jae Min is concerned, this is the story of devolution. His soul wakes up and he falls in love and he commits himself utterly and that breaks him down more and more and eventually makes him a broken destroyer of himself and the woman he loves. Because, the drama seems to say, in his environment, only a true cold monster can thrive or at least survive; the moment he loves someone, he's done. The whole this drama shows abuse is so telling. His monster father beats him regularly even if Jae Min is a grown man (there is a scene in his office in ep 2 where daddy is practicing golf in his office and Jae Min flinches any time the golf club is in his vicinity, and almost stutters and it's a small preview of what we are going to get.) But his mother who spoils her "baby" even though that "baby" is a grown man, but only if he does what she wants; he's supposed to have as much self-determination as a poodle, is as bad.

And there is Ha Ji Won - she is so desperate, so alone, so grasping, so greedy, so alive. She is a rare kdrama FL who sleeps with both her leading men (not at once, it WAS 2004 :P) and takes so long to decide that she loves Jae Min because she doesn't want to let go of even a crumb of what she can have because she's been so starved in every way.

And then there is the infamous ending

SPOILER

SPOLER

SPOILER

Where Jae Min (who has been through total hell by then; god the scene where he's on his knees begging his father to spare Soo Jung, trying to convince the man he never loved her) believes wrongly but reasonably that Soo Jung never loved him and played him to take all the family's stuff in cahoots with In Wook and goes into their room (where they just finished banging) and shoots them both right after she just finished telling In Wook that she is going to go back to Jae Min despite the risk because that's who she loves is !!!!! And as she dies, she tells Jae Min, for the first time, she loves him. And he goes out and the last shot (no pun intended) is him on his knees putting a gun to his temple and a shot ringing out. And that's the ending; our main three dead (and Jae Min never knew she never betrayed him and only finding out she loved him when it was too late), the sole survivor is the ice cold secondary girl. All people who had some humanity dead and destroyed by the monsters heaping constant wrong and abuse on them until they broke and said monsters continuing with their nice lives.

And the thing is - the drama does not condone anyone - not the family abusers who break Jae Min down bit by bit in the drama, not Jae Min who does the most monstrous thing at the end, going from a man willing to die body and soul so Soo Jung could live to the man who himself kills her, not In Wook who steals everything who wasn't nailed down, nor secondary girl who will never be touched by anything, not even Soo Jung who got into all of this because of her greed - it just lays it all out and presents their humanity and goes "watch. watch. watch."

Nobody would make this nowadays. They'd need a message or a cynical tint or w/e. Not just - sometimes there is no moral, no message, sometimes you watch people self destruct and love them as character even if not as people anyway.

There has been a rumored remake (shudder) for years but it has never taken off the ground and thank god. Without cast and with modern way of doing dramas, it would be terrible.

PS Speaking of terrible, the clothes in this drama oh my GOD.

#kdrama #so ji sub #jo in sung #ha ji won #something happened in bali #what happened in bali #Youtube

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bosinclairsgff · 4 days

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It’s been ages since I’ve requested any sort of thing but do you think you could do something where the reader finds a way to break out of the firefly house which leads to a whole chase scene with Otis? Love some dark stuff.

I loveeeee this!! Thanks so much for requesting!

I hope you enjoy what I did with this request! I tried my best, it’s maybe longer than you had hope but I was hanging fun haha! Much love xoxo ✨🫶🏻

Warnings : typical Rob Zombie violence, cussing, abuse

I had been trapped in the firefly house for over a month. The things I have seen and been put through are absolutely horrific. While being here Otis, as I’ve come to know him, and his sister Baby brought back a group of friends. They turned one of the men into a fish man hybrid. They made me watch as they brutally tortured him and murdered him. From what I could tell Halloween had come and passed in my time being with them. Baby had brought me candy one night when she had gotten back from somewhere. She and mama were the only ones to treat me sort of normal. Otis on the other hand, he made me sit in his room for days just watching him work on his “art” and listen to him rant about everything. Sometimes he’d forget to feed me and I’d starve for days. It’d take a yelling from Baby for him to remember. I don’t know why they haven’t killed me yet. I mean sure, they mentally and even sometimes physically abuse me. If I don’t say the exact thing Otis wants to hear he’ll take a razor and cut my arm or leg. I’m always getting yelled and or hit.

I’ve spent my whole time being here trying to find away to just get away from these people. Sometimes, Otis will untie me to go hangout with Baby or even to use the bathroom. He’d watch me use the bathroom but when I saw Baby it was just her and I. Depending on what time of day Otis let’s me go see her, sometimes she’ll fall asleep as I sit in her room. I knew that was my only chance. So, I waited, I waited until he was in a good mood and let me visit her one night. “Do you want to visit Baby tonight? I think you deserve a little vacation.” He chuckled at his wording choice. “Yes please Otis.” I whisper timidly. Otis nods in response, satisfied with my answer. It was only about 6pm when he asked me, I knew it was to early, and plus baby wasn’t even home yet. It was around 10pm when Baby got home, she clearly had been drinking. “Y/n!!! I hear we get to hangout tonight sugar. We should watch..um..a movie! Yes, a movie! A scary movie!!” She says stumbling around the room. Otis walks over to me, rolling his eyes. He unties me from the chair I was bond to. “I don’t want her to spend the night in there Baby, bring her back in a few hours, got it?” He barks at her. “Yes, yes okay whatever you say.” Baby respond while grabbing my hand to pull me away to her room.

She immediately sits me down on the floor and she takes the bed. Baby turns on the tv and finds a movie she’s satisfied with. Normally she’d let me sit on the bed and she’d brush and style my hair, tonight though she seemed exhausted. We sat there for about 20 minutes just watching the movie. When I looked up I found her fast asleep. I knew this was my chance. “Baby” I whispered slightly. I got no response. I slowly got myself up off the floor, I know I don’t have the best strength considering I’m starved most of the time. I just assumed adrenaline would kick in and get me out of this hell hole. I make my way quickly but quietly out of Baby’s room, down the hall and to the steps. I check my surroundings, making sure no one had noticed me lurking about. I take a my first step on the stairs, no sound, I take my next step, quiet creek. The third step I take gives everything away. I put my full weight down and a loud creek rings through the whole house. I can hear Otis’s footsteps getting close to opening his bedroom door. “Baby, is that you? What the hell are you doing. Don’t take her downstairs.” Otis yells. I waste no more time and book it down the remaining steps. I can hear Otis kick open his door and start running after me. “Get your sorry ass back here right now y/n!” He’s screaming through the house. I ignore his words and make it out the front door, it’s very late and I can barely see where I’m going. I just keep running as tears fly down my cheeks. “Run rabbit, run rabbit, run!” I can hear Otis not far behind me. I can feel him getting closer and I can feel myself getting extremely tired. If I can just keep going a little longer maybe I can escape him. Suddenly that thought is erased from becoming reality as Otis tackles me to the ground, I let out a loud scream. I immediately try to fight him off of me, kicking and hitting him as hard as I can. He struggles to hold my arms down but eventually he does. Both my arms are above my head being held down with what feels like all his weight. Otis’s legs are on either side of my hips. “You dumb fucking cunt. I let you leave the room and this is what you do in return. You are such a fucking idiot. I should have killed you the day I brought you here.” With that being said he takes one hand away from holing my hands above my head and reaches to his belt where he keeps his huge hunting knife. My blood immediately runs cold. Is this where it all ends? I was so close to freedom and now I’m going to be gutted alive. Before I can imagine even more awful ways he could kill me he has the knife to my throat. “I was starting to think maybe, just maybe, I could keep you around as my little pet. What a dumb fucking thought I’ll admit. You stupid bunny.” He smirks. “Please…please…Otis I’m sorry..I’m so sorry. I swear on my life I won’t try to run again. Just don’t kill me please.” I say as I feel the hot tears run down my face. He pushes the knife harder against my neck. Hard enough to draw blood, I wince and shut my eyes. “Look at me y/n.” Otis growls. I quickly open my eyes. “Please…” I whisper. He leans closer to me until our faces are pressed to each other, I can feel his breath on my lips. He smells like alcohol. “I’m so sorry” I whisper again. He gets back up and frees my arms, only to take his hand and slap it harshly across my face. I let out a loud shriek. Otis was still holding the knife to my throat, which cut my neck even more when he hit me. “You ever pull some stupid god damn stunt like this again y/n…and I’ll hang you up like a pig and skin you alive. You got that bitch?” He says while tilting his head to the side. I let out a soft sob and respond. “Yes! Yes I do Otis, I won’t ever do it again I swear. I’ll be so good I promise. Thank you.” I say just above a whisper. He’s satisfied and takes the knife from my throat. Otis stands up and reaches down to yank me up with him. It was a long walk back to the house. He dragged me by the hair the whole way. When we made it “home” he brought me back to the room and threw me on the floor. “Stay right fucking there.” He shouts.

Otis is gone for a few moments but comes back with a bottle of whisky and a bandage. “Lay down on the fucking floor and don’t make a sound. If I hear a peep I swear to god you’ll wish you were dead.” He states sternly. I do as he says laying on the dirty floor, I hadn’t noticed but my neck had been bleeding quite a bit. Without any warning he pours the whisky on my neck, I bite my lip until it bleeds as to not make a sound. He wastes no time wiping away the blood and whisky. When he’s happy with the cleanliness he wraps my neck securely. I can feel the tears once again falling like a waterfall. Ripping me from my pity party, Otis pulls me up from the hair putting me back in my dreaded chair. Tying my hands the tightest he possibly could. “Dumb fucking bunny.” He whispers in my ear.

#horror #horror fan #horror movie #horror movies #horror films #slasher x reader #slashers #otis driftwood #otis driftwood x reader #house of 1000 corpses #rob zombie #Otis x reader #baby firefly #captain spaulding #bosinclairsgff

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codename-adler · 1 month

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i would Love to hear abt ur kathea wip :-) -dayurno

thank you @dayurno it’s an honor and thank you @fandomnerd101 i hope this provides what you also asked for <3

Adler’s PiPs ~ Project: Kathea 🌺

Kathea Lore 2:

Their 2nd “meeting” (1st being in therapy and vvv ugly) is when Kate and Aaron mutually break up after her return from the psych ward and his return from Thanksgiving (see dtyfstf); although the fic wouldn’t start there, that is the moment that created this spin-off ship/fic/project/AU.

Having heard how much shit the Foxes are going through, Thea flies in to check in on Kevin who has ghosted her (thus breaking her promise again of no-contact but way, way worse).

In a scene reminiscent of Andreil’s first meeting, Kate and Thea literally run into each other when Kate exits Aaron’s dorm so fast she slams door 317 into Thea and falls into her.

Because Kate is crying so hard and because Thea does not want their therapy group to get on her back any more than they already are, Thea puts her Kevin mission on hold and takes Kate back with her (idk where yet… hotel room? Bar? Diner? Cab?) to “support” her therapy mate.

Thea is the more surprised of the two at her decision to take Kate under her wing (u know like a raven).

Kate starts to believe Thea is not as bad/mean as she projects in group therapy.

Thea doesn’t understand why she went out of her way like that, why she acted so out of character, so she proceeds to /gently/ but firmly kick Kate out, call her an Uber, and the next time they see each other, weeks later, in group, Thea is cold and distant.

That's the main scene to be written at the moment, the thing that’ll start me up and show me the golden path of Kathea.

Miscellaneous thoughts:

To me they're like if a nymph (Katelyn) and a goddess (Thea) fell in love.

While it causes no real impact on Kate’s career (cheer + med) to be queer, Thea’s pro Exy career is highly at risk, what with already being an ex-Raven and a Black woman in a mixed sport; it’s important to me that we’re all aware of that; and thus despite both women being each other’s first sapphic/queer relationship, they have widely different backgrounds and stakes at play in committing (or not) to this new love.

Katelyn doesn’t want to see Thea as a threat, for herself, Aaron and the Vixens/Foxes, but sometimes the way Thea handles her past and present is scary, and Kate doesn’t know if Thea is trustworthy with everything (and Riko) going on; those who have read ‘dance ‘til you find someone to die for’ know why trust and betrayal are big issues in the Katheaverse.

However, Thea doesn’t know anything about the vastness of Riko's evils; her main tormentor has always been Tetsuji Moriyama.

Riko acted the way all male Ravens (except Jean and Kevin) have always treated her: with misogyny and bigotry. Riko wasn’t special, not with her, not to her; but she doesn’t realize yet the Ravens were a cult, that it wasn’t normal, that she has repressed some things and that what is hurting her inside is also hurting others, whether fellow ex-Ravens like Jean and Kevin, or outsiders like Kate and Aaron who become collateral damage wave after wave Riko creates.

Of course I’m playing with the age gap between Thea (26-28) and Kate (20-22) because I think it’s very sexy and I’m self-projecting what I wish would happen to me love-wise 💅 I also previously thought about bringing up Thea’s trauma with younger partners (i.e., the whole Kevin grooming shitshow that was made-up by a-hole fans) to lay the issue to rest once and for all, but since some of y’all provoked Nora Sakavic into defending Queen Theodora Muldani and blasting y’all to dust, I don’t think I will! But who knows. It was important to me at one point, I’m just saying. More crumbs for you, eh.

Katelyn Young (Mackenzie) Lore:

Full name: Katelyn Beth Mackenzie Young

Height: 5’4”-5’5” to Thea’s 6’0” 😌

Career aspiration: Neonatology (Addison Montgomery did a lot for her)(and not just career wise *wink wink*)(she hasn’t realized that yet)(Thea is a lot like Addison u know *wink wink*)

Relationship history: before Aaron came along, her first real love, she had 2 boyfriends. Number 1 dared slap her twice before she ended things; Number 2 cheated on her with 4 different girls while they dated. Aaron was the first to treat her well, to heal a bit of her trust issues, to be completely devoted to her. They’re very important to me. I love my boyo Aaron and he deserves recognition for the love he gave Katelyn and fought for.

Kate is an only child from a very strict family; the parent she is closest to is her step-mother.

And that's what i got for now. A lot and nothing. But thank you again for enabling me. I love my girls. Again, if any of yous would like to request more of Kathea or more of a particular project, head over to my pinned post to see the list of 'Adler's Projects in Progress (PiPs)' and ask away!

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seidenbros · 1 year

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Hello you lovely people. 💚 I can't believe that there's really 1.5 k of you following me and I feel so honoured and blessed because I got to meet so many wonderful people. Of course, something like that calls for a celebration. The celebration will run until February 5th 2023 because that's my birthday, and I think that's a good date to stop that. Instead of writing myself, I'm going to give you a list of prompts (SFW, NSFW and scenarios). Just send me an ask telling my which prompt you want to do (you can combine them AND they can be done by multiple people) and which pairing you want to write it for (The Witcher and Stranger Things, any pairing you want). I'll read all of them, reblog them, and compile a list at the end to get them all together. When you post it, please tag me and tag it with #staffis 1.5 k celebration Among all those who reblog this post and who help spread the word, I will give away five sets (maybe more, we'll see) of stickers, and among those who write for this, I will give away 3 handpainted bags with the Hellfire Club Logo and little Eddie on the other side.

Gonna put the prompts below the cut, because otherwise, it wil probably be way too long. If you have any questions, my askbox is open. This is a way to celebrate, as well as spreading some love for other writers 💚💚

Lyric Prompts

“Every time that we meet I skip a heartbeat.” (Heartbeat - Scouting for Girls)

“I will always be right here to hold your hand.” (The Little Things - Keywest)

“Cause I need you so much, I can’t lose you.” (Hole in My Heart - Luke Friend)

“I’m not perfect, but I keep trying!” (Perfect - Hedley)

“Sometimes you make me a better person, sometimes you bring out the worst.” (Little Too Much - Natasha Beddingfield)

“If you wanna fight, I’ll stand right beside you!” (The Heart Never Lies - McFly)

“You have stolen my heart.” (Stolen - Dashboard Confessional)

“Let’s compare scars, I’ll tell you whose is worse.” (Swing Life Away - Rise Against)

“If I can’t have you right now, I’ll wait dear.” (Patience- Guns n’ Roses)

“I love you till the end of time. Come what may!” (Come What May - Moulin Rouge OST)

“For the person 15-year-old me would be proud to have known.” (Battle Cries - The Amazing Devil)

“Baby, you’re all that I need.” (Bed of Roses - Bon Jovi)

“I know there’s someone out there feeling just like I feel.” (Handwritten - The Gaslight Anthem)

“You’re the only one I see, love, and that’s the one thing that won’t change.” (Never Stop - SafetySuit)

“I love her because she moves in her own way.” (She Moves in Her Own Way - The Kooks)

“Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer.” (Thunder - Boys Like Girls)

“I know it’s late, but I had to get out and… somehow I ended up at your door.”

SFW Prompts

“Of course I came for you. I will always be there for you, no matter what!”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

“Where does all the blood come from? Are you hurt? Wait… This isn’t your blood!”

“Oh God, what on earth have you done now?”

“I am so in love with you and it hurts like hell that you don’t even notice!”

“I hate to ask this of you, but can you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?”

“You have no idea how much I want to choke you right now!” “Ohh kinky.” “Not like that!”

“You know, a hug can be like medicine and make some of the pain go away. Wanna try?”

“Will you please, please just kiss me now?”

“I’ll kick his ass, if you want me to. No problem at all!”

“Is it okay, if we just lie down and watch a movie? I’m not feeling so good.”

“The frosting goes on the cupcakes! You’re not supposed to eat it just like that!”

“I just want to be alone, is that so hard to understand?”

“It breaks my heart to see you like this!”

“Even after everything we’ve been through, I’d still choose you. I will always choose you!”

“Scoot over, I’m gonna get in bed with you. You need some cuddles.”

“It’s alright! It was just a dream, you’re safe here. Tell me all about it so I can fix it, hm?”

“I know it’s not the best, but-” “I love it!”

“I really wish I was enough for you, but that’s never gonna happen.”

“Well then, who do you like?” “Oh, maybe the person I talk to all the time, the person I talk to every fucking day!” “You talk to me every day.” “Yeah…” “Oh!”

NSFW Prompts

“How about you put these lips to work instead of just talking all the time?”

“Will you stop talking, or do I have to make you shut up?”

“Don’t hide from me. Let me see you!”

“I need to feel you… Now!”

“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”

“Are you gonna be a good girl/boy for me?”

“Care to elaborate why you are going through my drawer and what you’re planning to do with that vibrator?”

“Now, now, don’t play shy now. Let me hear you!”

“You taste like heaven, and I can’t get enough.”

“Stop wiggling around, I’m trying to sleep! Wait… what’s tha… oh!”

“Fuck… just… right there! That feels so good!”

“Feel what you’re doing to me? That’s all because of you!”

“Take off your clothes. Slowly. I want to watch you.”

“I know you said no marks… But what if I put them where nobody except for me will see them?”

“You act all innocent and look so sweet, but I know what a dirty mind you really have.”

“We have to be quiet. If you make a sound, I’ll have to stop!”

“You tell me to stop teasing you, yet you moan all the time.”

“When I tell you to sit on my face, I want you to sit, is that clear?”

“Oh no, don’t stop on my account. I’m really enjoying the view.”

“I don’t like being told what to do, unless I’m naked. So can we move that to the bedroom?”

“Can I watch you?”

Scenarios

A is talking on the phone to someone, while B comes up behind A and successfully distracts A with kisses to the neck, making A end the call early.

Baking together for the first time, which ends with flour and other ingredients where they don’t belong, and lots of laughter.

Lying in each others arms after having sex, while A finally confesses their feelings, and B falls asleep before they can even hear it.

Tracing your fingers over your lover’s freckles or even connecting them with a pen while they are asleep.

Sitting in silence watching the stars, hands inching closer, until they finally interlace their fingers, smiling to themselves.

Giving your crush your scarf and your gloves in cold weather, because you want to keep them warm.

Waking up to your lover pressed against your back, already awake, but they don’t want to get up just yet.

Coming home to find your lover made a pillow fort, ordered pizza and already got a movie set up for you to watch in that fort.

Going to a family wedding with your best friend, who you introduced as you boy-/girlfriend so that your family doesn’t try to set you up with someone - that means you’ll also share a bed for the night.

Coming home to smoke in the kitchen, because your lover wanted to make a cake for you, but is an absolute disaster in the kitchen.

Teaching your crush how to dance, because they want to know the basics for an event, which ends in lots of body contact, beating hearts, and an invitation to be their date for said event.

Being on the phone with your lover and they tell you “I love you” for the first time before hanging up, which makes for a very interesting next meeting.

Being at a loss for words, not able to express how you feel, so you just pull the other one close and kiss them instead. Actions speak louder than words.

Making it through a family dinner or some other event to come home and help each other out of these clothes. Unzipping a dress, unbuttoning a shirt with lots of soft touches and kisses that turn carnal at one point.

You come home drunk from a party, and your partner takes care of you, makes sure you get to bed safe, have enough water, and you tell them that you appreciate it, but there’s this wonderful person, who already has your heart, so you have to behave.

Going for a drive in the middle of the night, because you both can’t sleep, listening to your favourite songs and singing along, trying to be louder than the other one.

Surprising your loved one with recreating your first date, asking them if they remember all of that.

Scars tell the story of where we’ve been, they are a part of us, and you show that to your loved one with kissing all of their scars.

Gonna tag some mutuals who might enjoy this 💚 @thefreakandthehair @indouloureux @magnoliabutters @jadeylovesmarvelxo @sweetpeapod @ethereal27cereal @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @latenitewolves @amzngdevil @luteandsword @tellhound @jesskier @writingmysanity @dancingwiththefae @wren-of-the-woods @flowercrown-bard @kodiakwhiskey @open--till--midnight

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lesbianlotties · 2 years

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Ronancetober Day 3: body/style swap

words: 907

happy steal your girlfriend's clothes day to those who celebrate <3

It started out like any other Friday. Nancy picked up Robin from work at Family Video, they waved Steve goodbye, and they made their way to Robin’s house, where they would watch a movie, have dinner, and fall asleep in each other’s arms. Robin’s parents spent most of the night out with friends, and rarely noticed Nancy was even there. During the entire drive from Family Video to Robin’s house, Robin went on an endless monologue, telling Nancy every little detail about her day. Nancy listened, she really did. She prided herself on seriously paying attention to everything Robin said. But, if she sometimes struggled to focus because her girlfriend just happened to look particularly attractive, who could blame her? Robin’s hair was a little messy, her clothes a little rumpled, her smile wide, and her eyes lively. Nancy had trouble keeping her eyes on the road ahead of them instead of on Robin’s slightly smudged eyeliner, the rings on her fingers, the exact way her blazer hung on her shoulders, and that stupid tie she wore to work that made Nancy feel completely brand new things in her gut.

By the time they made it to Robin’s house, and Robin held Nancy’s hand all the way from the car to the front door, and from the doorway to her bedroom, Nancy was a little dizzy, her head clouded with everything Robin. And still… there was a little thought pushing through at the back of her mind. A little spark of curiosity. She tried to push it down but, as it turned out, her girlfriend was a little too good at reading her like a book and, very soon, it would get out of Nancy’s hands.

Everything started when they finally made it to Robin’s bedroom. Robin immediately took off her vest, dropping it unceremoniously on the bed. It was part of their routine, Nancy watching enamored as Robin changed out of her work clothes for something more comfortable. Then she started undoing her tie, kicking off her shoes, back to fully taking off the tie, and she was only starting to unbutton her shirt when she turned around, stopped mid-sentence, and noticed Nancy already wearing her jacket. “You look cute,” Robin pointed out, smiling at Nancy, who wrapped herself even tighter in the piece of clothing that looked entirely too big on her.

“You think?” Nancy asked, squinting her eyes a little.

Robin’s head tilted to the side as she studied Nancy’s demeanor. It was far from unusual for Nancy to steal her jackets, her sweatshirts, her button-up shirts, her t-shirts… Anyway. The point was that Nancy’s question hit her as something important. With her shirt half unbuttoned, Robin walked toward Nancy, who had made herself comfortable on Robin’s bed, and she said, “Beautiful. In anything you could possibly want to wear. It’s a scientific fact, Wheeler.”

Nancy rolled her eyes in the way that Robin started to identify as fond or flustered instead of annoyed. “I don’t know, Robin,” Nancy said, shifting to the edge of the bed to play absentmindedly with the hem of Robin’s dress shirt. “I don’t think I could pull off your particular style.”

Nancy expected an argument, a passionate rant about how their styles were so different but she was still beautiful and worthy in Robin’s eyes, anything like that. She shouldn’t have been so surprised that Robin’s eyes sparked with mischief, her smirk lit up the room, and she gently tilted Nancy’s chin up to look at her and say, “Wanna try it out?”

Oh. There was no backing out of that.

The next hour was one of the most interesting of Nancy’s life. There were moments of hesitation, existential crisis, and embarrassment. There were moments of unbridled joy, fun, and desire for her girlfriend. It was an hour filled with Nancy saying “That’s not even your size, Robin.” “I feel ridiculous.” “No, I’m not saying I want it to be pink but…” “Baby, how on Earth did you get this hole on the shirt?” “I look like a twelve-year-old boy!” “I mean, it’s nice when you wear it but… are you sure?”

Eventually, they finally settled on an outfit. Robin’s clothes were still a little too long on Nancy, but that in itself added a little something to the overall effect. The baggy pants, the oversized jacket, the shirt Robin got in the men’s section of a store, including the less-delicate-than-Nancy’s-usual rings, the silver chain dangling from her neck, the different approach to make-up, the messy ponytail barely keeping her curls off her face. As Nancy stared at herself in the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, she couldn’t hide her shiver. Behind her, Robin stood in only sweatpants and an old t-shirt, effortlessly gorgeous, and staring at Nancy with so much adoration in her sweet blue eyes that Nancy couldn’t tell which one of them was closer to tears.

“I mean… it’s comfortable,” Nancy said, and a little disbelieving chuckle escaped her at the mere idea of going out, meeting her family, going to work, and the dreamy concept of proudly living a life guided by comfort first and foremost. This wasn’t exactly her… yet. But this fun little experiment was very rewarding. Especially considering the way Robin was looking at her, sneaking her arms around Nancy’s waist and kissing her exposed neck, mumbling about how hot Nancy looked like that. Yeah, definitely worth it.

#today's mood is hating robin and nancy because i want what they have. fuck u ronance how dare you guys be this cute <3 #ronance #ronancetober #stranger things #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #st #stranger things fanfic #ronance fanfic #my fic

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blindmagdalena · 1 year

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Eat Your Ego, Honey (CH3)

homelander x oc 18+ escort services, sex work, voyeurism, stalking, Homelander in general. see ao3 link for detailed tags. chapter index. check out the playlist!

That night, Homelander returns to Layla’s condo. It’s later in the evening, giving him the freedom to perch on a building across from hers, his telescopic vision honing slowly in on her quaintly furnished home. Slipping his gloves off one at a time, Homelander sets them aside. He settles his hands in his lap, and absently grinds his thumb into his palm, clumsily mimicking the way Layla had so deftly done it.

It feels… like nothing.

Despite his superior strength, the roll of his thumb is nothing compared to her touch. When she had done it, it had felt as though there were currents passing between their hands, electricity coursing freely. Now, attempting to recreate the sensation feels like trying to tickle himself. It’s an empty feeling, nothing but the pressure of skin against skin.

Homelander’s focus is broken by movement– her front door opens, and Layla steps in, looking day-weary, but relieved. Her shoulders sink out of that perfect posture she maintains for the world, and she kicks her shoes haphazardly towards the closet door, not bothering to put them away. The contrast of her home routine compared to last night’s is so radically different, Homelander has to wonder if she’s not accustomed to being put off her schedule. Had she made an exception, scheduling him so late in the evening? The thought has a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

That wouldn’t be the only exception she made for him today.

Bringing himself back to the present, Homelander watches Layla take her bag to her office, depositing it on her desk before making her way to her bedroom. The way she carries herself when she’s at home, when it’s just the two of them as watcher and watched, is different from the calculated persona she maintains during their sessions. Her body is no longer strung tight by the strings of performance. He’s free to observe her now and see her as none of her clients could hope to.

Clients.

Homelander runs his tongue absently along his teeth. He’s had whores before. Empty, wet holes that were warm enough, but not much more. Sometimes it beat using his fist. Other times the mess was hardly worth the effort. He’s fucked starstruck fans, women who wanted him, and some that didn’t. Every single time, he felt as though he was digging into them, seeking something lurking beneath their skin that if he could just dig deep enough, he could rip out something that would let him fucking feel.

Something Layla is inexplicably adept at evoking with a simple touch.

Continuing to massage his hand, Homelander hones back in, watching Layla pull an oversized sleep shirt from her dresser. She must be in the mood for something cozier than the silky night slip she wore the night before. Homelander is mildly disappointed in the choice, but that falls away immediately as she begins to undress. She pulls off her sweater and camisole in one fell swoop, revealing a cottony white bra, delicately embroidered with pastel floral designs up the cups. Her panties match. He can already imagine how the raised fabric would feel against his tongue.

She must not be in the mood to put on a show tonight, because she puts her sleep shirt on far too quickly. Homelander much prefers when she’s not in such a rush to get comfortable, when she takes her time peeling away the layers of her day. He thinks again about the bath she took the other night, how she’d so clearly brought him home with her. He wants that. He wants proof that she’s still thinking about the smell of him on her skin, the warmth of his body against hers. He wants to see her yearning for him in his absence, so obviously pretending that her hands on her body are his.

Meanwhile, Layla slips out of her underwear, tossing it into a nearby laundry bin. Homelander chuckles to himself. She must have soaked through them after the way he was grinding against her. He could smell her arousal, feel it in the throb of her body. She barely held herself together, clinging desperately to her silly little rules.

Homelander watches Layla pull on a new pair of plain black panties–a shame, he likes it when they match–and walk from her bedroom to her kitchen, where she pours herself an awfully tall glass of red wine. She takes it to the couch, settling down with her feet propped up on the coffee table.

He believes for a moment that she’s settling in to watch some television, a boring activity he would be content to leave her to until he returns, but instead she lifts up her cellphone, bringing it to her ear. Homelander cocks his head, listening to it ring alongside her.

“Hey, babe,” greets a male voice on the other end of the line. Homelander feels himself bristle, his jaw tightening. “Let me guess. Calling to cancel on me again?” This stranger goes on, eliciting a smile from Layla that’s so wholly at ease, so casually endeared, it makes Homelander’s skin crawl. The phone call feels like an intrusion on their time together, this man’s voice grating in Homelander’s ears.

“No, no, we’re still on for tomorrow,” Layla assures him, taking a sip of her wine. A date? The notion sets Homelander’s teeth on edge. Is this a boyfriend? Homelander scoffs to himself. Not for long. “I just… need to talk to you,” she continues, swirling her drink contemplatively.

Homelander pauses the grinding of his teeth. Nothing good ever comes from an I need to talk to you . He huffs softly. Has he already convinced her she needs to break up with this loser?

“Something that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” the man asks.

Layla makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Not if I plan on sleeping tonight.”

“Woof, that bad? Alright, I’m sat. Hit me.”

After taking a preparatory swig of her wine, Layla exhales a slow deep breath. “I have this new client.” Homelander’s lips part. She’s talking about work? About him? The corners of his mouth twitch. The back and forth would give most people whiplash.

“And I let them cross some boundaries today,” she says, sounding more sheepish than he’s used to hearing her. Homelander wonders crossly if she’s about to apologize to this man, shamefully admit to him the way she had stroked Homelander into blissful oblivion, confess to him how thoroughly it turned her on. He shakes his head, listening intently, before he drives himself insane speculating.

“You let them cross boundaries, or you crossed boundaries?”

Layla looks disarmed by the question, but simultaneously like she had been expecting it. She pushes a hand into her hair, resting against her palm with her elbow propped on the couch. “Both.”

“Okay. Why did you do that?” He sounds patient, a touch curious. Not the response Homelander anticipated. Where’s his sense of fucking pride? He must be some kind of cuck, getting off on the thought of another man pleasing his woman. Layla’s lucky that Homelander discovered her.

“Because…” Homelander leans forward, anticipating her answer. Layla chews her lip briefly. “I wanted to.”

Homelander smirks at that, but the judgmental hum that comes from the man on the phone grates in his ears. “Layla,” he says simply, though there is weight in it.

“They’re different from my usual clientele,” she says with a sigh, sitting up to take another sip from her wine. Homelander knows that she’s tongue-tied on the specifics by a myriad of Vought specific NDA’s, but perhaps she’s always this vague. He lingers on that word; different. “Different from… anyone I’ve ever met, honestly.”

Homelander’s lips split into a broad, preening grin. I told you. You’ll never meet another me.

“They just have this intensity to them, it’s hard to put it into words,” she says, sounding frustrated with herself as she swirls her drink. “And this wouldn’t really be a problem if not for the fact they keep booking domestic. The first session we were testing the waters, sure. The second time, today, they pushed, I slipped. Now they’ve booked it again. Instead of being upfront and honest about what they really want, they’re establishing boundaries with the clear intention of breaking them. So, naturally I… should stop working with them,” she says, though the inflection of her voice makes it sound more like a question than a statement.

“You should stop working with them,” the voice on the phone confirms. Homelander viscerally envisions caving in this faceless man’s windpipe.

Layla’s nose scrunches. It’s endearing enough that Homelander loses track of the flash murderous impulse. He watches as she chews at her thumb nail, the conflict written in every inch of her body language. “After I talk to them about it.”

“It doesn’t sound to me like you want to work with them, Layla,” the man says. Shut up, Homelander wants to snap. He’s trying to talk her out of it. He’s– “Sounds to me like you want to date them.”

That gives Homelander pause. Well, the man has one good point.

“You’re not helping me,” Layla groans, finishing her glass of wine before sinking deeper into the couch. She doesn’t even try to deny it. Instead, she absently touches the bruise he’d sucked at her neck Homelander grins, feeling distinctly triumphant.

“I am, babe. It’s just not what you wanted to hear.”

Layla relaxes down onto her back, stretching out on the couch. Homelander tracks the way her sleep shirt slides tantalizingly up her thighs. “Marriage changed you,” she laments half-heartedly. Homelander quirks a brow, his figurative hackles lowering. “You’ve been domesticated.”

The man laughs gently. “Jealous?”

“Don’t be mean,” Layla scolds, smiling bittersweetly. Homelander takes note of that. “How is Jason?”

“He’s good, he’s good. Our 10th anniversary is coming up, you know. We’re thinking Italy.”

Oh. Homelander relaxes the rest of the way. A homosexual.

“Ten years?” Layla echoes, awed. “Time really does fly.” Her cheeks have turned a ruddy color from the wine. She rubs at her eye, smudging the makeup she’s forgotten she hasn’t washed away yet. Homelander finds it charming, intimate even. He likes the look of her when she’s put together, polished to a shine for the eyes of the world, but he likes this, too. What she sells is an excellent fantasy, but this is true domesticity.

The pair chat for a while longer, reminiscing on a friendship that spans all the way back to their high school years. Through this conversation, Homelander gleans that Layla, for all her beauty and charm, is deceptively introverted. Isolated, even. This man, Chris, appears to be the only other person in the world who actually knows her.

He was, anyway.

Are the intimate fantasies of love as much for Layla as they are for her clients? Homelander’s gaze drifts about her apartment as he zones in and out of the conversation she’s having. No pets. On the walls there are only a handful of framed photos. Graduation pictures dated over twenty years ago catch his eye; a young Layla fresh out of school, linking arms with a man and a woman he presumes to be her parents. They look to have been older even then. He doubts they’re still alive.

She’s lonely.

Homelander’s knee bounces impatiently. As insightful as this conversation has been, Chris is beginning to overstay his welcome. He came here to see Layla, and the man’s voice is grinding on his nerves. Luckily, it’s not much longer until Layla begins her goodbye. Fucking finally.

With her call over and her wine glass empty, Layla washes up for bed, wasting little time with it. Homelander picks up his gloves, tugging them back on, and slips off of the ledge he was sitting on, drifting towards her balcony. She’s left it open tonight, welcoming in the cool breeze on this balmy late July evening. It’s practically an invitation. Gently, Homelander swings the door open just enough to step through, cocking his head slightly as he makes his way towards Layla’s bed.

He already knows she’s sound asleep by the rhythm of her breaths. They’re deeper tonight, carrying a soft little snore. The wine has thoroughly sedated her. He tsks quietly when he sees her phone on her nightstand lying adjacent to the charging cable, unplugged, and chuckles to himself. He picks up the phone, reading the notifications that the screen lights up with. No text messages, just a couple of emails. He hasn’t figured out her password yet, so for now, he simply plugs in the device and sets it back down on her nightstand.

Honestly, what would she do without him?

Turning his attention to her, he gives her a once over. Her bed is much too large for her. She looks small in it, even as sprawled out as she is. Was she expecting to be sharing it when she bought it? There’s even a pillow next to hers. Layla’s entire life feels like it has been carved around some missing piece. Something, or someone, that she’s been waiting for to step in and fill the void.

Homelander knows the feeling.

Reaching out, he brushes his gloved fingertips along her bare shoulder. Even in her sleep, goosebumps rise at his touch, though she does not stir. His gaze flickers over to the empty expanse of her bed. He feels a rush of irritation prickling hot on his skin, all the way up his spine. It’s abysmally obvious that he should be laying there.

From the moment he saw her, he knew that she was living a lie, one not so unlike his. Now he sees her truth. She doesn’t just want him; she needs him.

Now he only needs to show her that he will have her.

Out of the corner of his eye, Homelander spots a familiar flash of fabric. After a brief hesitation, he moves from Layla’s bedside, making his way towards the distraction. Layla’s panties, with that floral embellishment curved elegantly along the hem, hang precariously from a dark wood laundry basket. His mouth dries slightly. Delicately, he slips his index finger under the waistband, lifting them up to examine.

Layla obviously enjoys luxury. Everything she wears is of exquisite quality. Since he can’t find signs of a tag, it's likely they’re handmade.

Lifting them closer to his face, lips parted, he inhales gently, and instantly he’s struck to the core by the lingering smell of her arousal. He’s transported viscerally back to their session, lost in fervency to her touch, her smell, her taste. She’s kissing him, moaning sweetly in his ear while he grinds against her, soaking the panties he now holds. It sends a throb of heat through his entire body, her underwear clenched tight in his fist, held close to his nose as he relives the moment.

Homelander returns to himself with a shaky breath, licking his lips, suddenly parched. The impulse to take them strikes him hard, but they’re too distinct. They’re part of a set. They’d be missed, and more importantly, he wants to see her wearing them. He wants to see her wearing them for him.

That gives Homelander an idea.

With mild reluctance, he drops the panties back into her laundry bin. Stepping into her closet, he browses her dresses, checking the tags on them, looking for an average between the sizes. What he learns is that women’s sizing is largely nonsense, but by roughly measuring the width of a few with his hands, he gets a solid idea for her measurements.

If she wants luxury, he will give it to her.

Discerning her shoe size is much easier, thankfully. Coming back to her bedside, Homelander bends at the waist, reaching out to brush Layla’s hair out of her face, parting it to reveal her forehead. “Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he purrs, voice dripping with smug self-satisfaction. “Daddy’s got some shopping to do.”

After he presses a warm kiss to her forehead, he adjusts the blanket up over her shoulders, standing straight. He walks out onto her balcony with a vision in mind, and a mission to accomplish, lifting into the sky gently at first, before shooting off like a rocket.

For the next couple of days, Homelander’s schedule is painfully tight. Vought is still reeling from the press surrounding Stormfront’s death, bringing the most unpleasant of thoughts constantly to the forefront of Homelander’s mind. It’s not enough that he’s suffering. They want him to fucking prostrate himself for something that wasn’t even his fault.

Next Saturday, he’ll stand on stage with co-captain Starlight–fucking laughable–for what is supposed to be his birthday celebration. It’s nothing but a sham built atop another sham.

However, today is Friday, and there’s only one thing on his mind. No cloying interviewers looking to pick him apart, no insipid fan events, no media circus. Today belongs to him.

As does Layla.

Standing outside the door to her office, with a few minutes to spare, Homelander’s heart patters excitedly in his chest. After that night in her apartment, he wasted no time finding her the perfect dress. He had it delivered to her with a simple note: For Friday. His anticipation has been steadily building ever since, leaving him with the same giddiness he imagines children must feel at their birthday, or Christmas.

Not that he has any experience with that.

If the world wants him to pretend it’s his birthday so badly, he may as well have one present he’s excited to unwrap.

Just as the clock hits the hour, Homelander delivers three swift, firm knocks to the door. He expects her to answer with a flourish, to wow him in the stunning ensemble he chose. Instead, he hears her beckon him from inside.

“Come in,” Layla says, voice barely above a whisper, but his keen hearing picks it up clear as a bell. She knows that he’ll hear her. Something about that tingles pleasantly in the back of his mind.

Looking down at the knob, Homelander takes it, stepping almost cautiously inside. His gaze flickers side to side before landing on the couch on the east wall, where Layla sits, an absolute vision in the fitted black dress that he chose for her.

Homelander stands dumbly in the doorway, lips parted. The way Layla’s legs are crossed perfectly accentuates the slit cut up to the side of her bare thigh. She’s wearing her hair down in loose curls today, the ends of them resting just above her chest. Homelander swallows thickly. He hadn’t been shy about the cut of the dress, and he’s glad for it now. The plunging neckline suits her exquisitely, following the swell of her breasts. He licks his lips reflexively.

“Wowza,” he says, the word barely a breath through his grin. “You look like a million bucks.”

“Thank you,” Layla responds, lips tilted in a warm, sultry kind of smile, irresistibly kissable. She extends a hand out to him. He shuts the door behind him, and in just a handful of long strides, he closes the distance between them, taking her hand in his. “Did you get my measurements from Holly?”

Bending down, Homelander kisses the top of her hand, his smile sly. “Lucky guess,” he says dismissively, inhaling. He missed the smell of her perfume, equal parts heady and sweet. It smells warm to him, gradually soothing the nerves that the rest of the world seems intent on needling. He doesn’t notice the slightly skeptical narrowing of her eyes, too busy admiring the way the dress hugs the curves of her body. Following it all the way down, he pauses, brows furrowing.

He’s just noticed there's something missing. Looking back up to her, he asks, “What about the shoes?”

Layla’s lips quirk mischievously. “Check under the couch.”

Uncertain of what her game is, but intrigued, Homelander slowly lowers himself to his knees, bracing one hand on the couch while he tilts to peer beneath, where he does indeed find a sleek black box tucked neatly below. Confused, he pulls the box out and sits back on his legs, placing it in his lap. Lifting the lid, he sees the exact heels he ordered for her: black stilettos with a pointed toe. He looks up at her, quietly awaiting an explanation.

Smoothly, Layla uncrosses her legs. Homelander’s gaze drops, following the way the slit up the side of her dress slips higher up as she slides herself forward on the couch. He wonders what she’s wearing beneath today; pink? Or perhaps she chose black to match what he chose for her, dressing herself solely with him in mind. He licks his lips.

“Help me put them on,” Layla says. It’s neither a request nor an order. Simply an instruction. Despite the innocuousness of it all, Homelander feels heat broil low in his stomach. He nods silently, setting the open box to the side. He takes out one of the shoes with one hand, and cups her corresponding ankle with the other, lifting it above his lap to slide into the heel in his opposite hand. “Very good,” she praises, stoking the fires in him. She lifts her foot out of his hand, but instead of placing it on the floor, she settles it atop his thigh, the sharp heel biting into him ever so gently.

Though it doesn’t hurt, Homelander finds himself hyper aware of the pin-prick weight of it. When she lifts her other foot, he automatically supports her ankle in his palm, reaching for the other shoe. Once again, he slips the stiletto on her, and once again, she rests her heel on his thigh. She leans forward to inspect them against the blue of his pants, putting more of her weight against him. Homelander finds himself prickling all over with anticipation. She hasn’t said a word regarding any of what he’s purchased for her, and now she has pinned him beneath her, torturing him with the casual way she tilts her head, silently appraising.

That anticipation gradually builds into an impatient itch all the way up his spine. Just tell me you like it, he wants to demand, but he can’t unclench his jaw enough to get the words out. She has utterly paralyzed him.

The next fifteen seconds pass like hours. Layla looks up at him through her lashes, and Homelander feels his stomach flip. She smiles warmly at him, and lifts her hand to cup the side of his face. He leans into it eagerly, but he doesn’t exhale until he hears her say, “They’re gorgeous. The dress, too. Thank you, John.”

He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until that very moment. He nuzzles into her hand, lips relaxing into a pleased little smile while he looks at her, eyes halfway closed. “I did good?” He asks, finally feeling as though his tongue can function again. He hooks his hands around her calves, nearly close enough to rest his head on her knees.

“You did very good,” she tells him, leaning forward, bringing her other hand up to the other side of his face. He closes his eyes as she places a soft kiss between his brows, her thumbs stroking the highs of his cheeks. “And I need you to continue to be good for me,” she says, whisper-soft.

You can not be bad, murmurs a familiar voice, an echo in the back of his mind.

Homelander opens his eyes, gazing half-lidded at her. His brows furrow. “What?”

Layla continues, “No more setting boundaries with the intention of breaking them.”

He recalls her conversation from the other night.

“... they’re establishing boundaries with the clear intention of breaking them. So, naturally I… should stop working with them.”

Homelander frowns, blinking. A feeling he doesn’t like is rising in the back of his throat like bile. Voices from now and from what feels like a lifetime ago layer overtop of each other, mixing together in a discordant chorus.

“We act with informed consent. We establish expectations before every session.”

You have to be good. And you have to listen to me.

“That’s the only way we can keep seeing each other, okay?”

And then we both can get what we want.

Homelander eyes prickle hotly, turning glassy with unbidden tears. His mouth clicks as his lips part, though no words fall. Suddenly, Layla’s eyes look to him like smoldering depths. He will never forget how she smelled as she burned.

Why couldn’t she have just loved him?

“John,” Layla calls, her tone suddenly sharper than it was a moment ago. Her voice is strained, cutting through the ringing in his ears. Homelander snaps back into focus. Layla’s not holding his face anymore, her hands on his wrists instead. Her eyes are whole again, but her expression is knotted up like she’s in pain. He realizes that his grip on her legs has tightened, fingers digging deep into the muscle of her calves, and he immediately relinquishes it, gloved hands suspended mid-air.

“Sorry,” he breathes, a word rarely found in his vocabulary. He feels disoriented, lost amidst different times of his life. He can’t wrap his mind around how he got from where he was to this moment, feeling as though his insides have been scooped out and replaced with ice.

“It’s okay,” Layla assures him, her voice tightly controlled. He hates it. He hates that he can tell she’s shaken beneath it. The beat of her heart pounds in his ears like a drum. The spoiled smell of her fear makes him nauseous. It’s worse than the stench of burning flesh. “Ssshhh, it’s okay.”

Homelander screws his eyes shut, expression twisting. He feels Layla’s hands push into his hair, drawing him towards her lap. He goes easily, burying his face into the fabric of her dress. The dress she wears for him. He moves his hands to the outside of her thighs, gripping at the loose sides of the dress like a child at his mothers skirts as he bites back the wretched sobs swelling in his throat, refusing to make a sound.

If gods are perfect, why do I feel like this?

With one hand, Layla cups the back of his head while she uses the other to rub firm circles on his back continuing to hush him. “It’s okay,” she says again. It’s not. Homelander’s grip on her dress flexes, struck by the sudden urge to rip it off of her, to lay her bare, to reduce her the way he feels reduced. He grits his teeth, exhaling a rough, broken noise.

Her touch makes him feel small, which threatens to tear him apart. Half of him wants to sink into it, soak up her warmth and her gentleness. The other half of him would rather rip her in two than suffer her pity. Before he can decide on which of the two to pursue, the sound of Layla’s voice abruptly halts his thoughts.

She’s humming. Quiet at first, but her volume evens out as she finds her melody. It’s the same tune she hummed when he laid in her arms, nestled against her chest, the beat of her heart serving as a metronome to the song. Gradually, Homelander feels himself backstepping from the cliff he was standing atop. The surrounding thoughts fall away, and he lets himself focus on the sound of her voice. The sour smell of fear has begun to fade from her, leaving only the familiar rich sweetness of her.

As her fright fades, so too does the urge to destroy her.

By the time his breaths return to their usual cadence, Homelander’s body feels heavy. Layla is still humming gently, her fingers curling soothing patterns in his hair. He’s uncertain of how much time has passed, or how long he has remaining with her. It’s sickening to recall. The thought of having to let her go when he feels like this is too much to bear.

He could take her from here. He could put her somewhere no one would ever find her. She would be for him alone.

Tempting as the idea may be, he loathes the thought of her angry with him. Scolding him. Perhaps she’d scream at him. He’s not sure he could contain himself if she did. He would sooner ruin her than see her look upon him with hatred or disgust.

Homelander’s thoughts halt when he realizes the room is silent. Layla’s hand is no longer rubbing his back, but has instead settled on his shoulder. He can feel her eyes on him, and he knows that in order to move beyond this, he will need to face her. Shame sits heavy in his gut. Reluctantly, he lifts his head from her lap, swiping at his mouth first, then catching his thumb along his under eye, wiping the indignity from his face as best he can before he lifts his gaze to meet hers.

Her expression catches him off guard. He had expected to see a mask. A thin veneer of kindness that would be betrayed by disgust in her eyes, the same kind he feels for himself in this moment. Disgust for the way he wept in her lap like a fucking child.

Instead, she looks vulnerable. Her eyes are glassy, brimming with tears, and her lips are drawn in a smile that he cannot decipher. It isn’t tight like a grimace, or a cover for some other expression. It’s gentle, and he finds himself distracted by his own bewilderment. What reason can she possibly have to look at him like that?

“Hey,” Layla greets softly, lifting her hand from his shoulder to cup the side of his face. Homelander stares wordlessly, unable to formulate a response to such a simple word. This isn’t what he braced himself for, and now he is at a loss. “C’mere,” she says, keeping her voice whisper soft.

Layla gives him a gentle tug, though it takes an extra one for him to comply, lifting himself up into her embrace. Dumbfounded, he allows her to manipulate his body, following the way she places his arms around her middle as she lays back with him, settling him down on top of her. Homelander is tense, braced for something, though for the life of him he cannot say what.

This consequence doesn’t make sense.

While he’s processing, Layla begins combing her fingers through his hair again. Bit by bit, that tension begins to bleed from his body, the residual tears clear from his eyes. He sinks against her in a stupor of emotional exhaustion, nuzzling slightly at her collarbone, cheek pressed against her bare skin. The positioning of their limbs is messy, awkward out of necessity, but Homelander can’t be bothered to adjust. In this moment, he feels like he has never needed to feel the assurance of another body against him more desperately in his life.

Eventually, Layla breaks the silence to ask, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Homelander says, his attempt at a confident response undercut by the way he croaks the word. ”Fine.”

“It’s okay if you’re not,” she replies, nails dragging light lines down his scalp. The feeling makes his skin tingle pleasantly. He wishes he could focus on that alone, and forget the rest of this. “You looked like you were dissociating.”

“I’m fine,” Homelander says again, stressing it a little more firmly this time.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Layla goes on, that endlessly patient tone of hers beginning to needle beneath his skin. She needs to drop it. “Lots of people–”

“I’m not like lots of people,” he snaps, the shift in his tone enough to pause her hand in his hair. Pulling one arm from around her, he braces his hand on the couch and lifts himself on it to stare down at her, jaw tight. “I’m not. Do you understand that? I’m a god, and I don’t need your fucking pity.”

If the alternative to her fear is her pity, he doesn’t want it. He would rather–

Break her fucking neck.

Homelander recoils, gaze darting off to the side. The thought came so abruptly, so crystal clear, it was as though he heard it whispered in his ear.

He startles slightly when Layla touches her hand to his face, featherlight. Warm. He looks down at her, and something in him churns. She isn’t afraid, but her body language feels the way it was their very first session. There is a tentativeness to her movements that he thought they were beyond. If she hadn’t pushed, if she had just shut her mouth and–

“A god of flesh and blood, then,” she says quietly, disarming him. There is a subtle reverence to the way her lips form the words that enraptures him. Her hand caresses down from his cheek to the collar of his suit, where her fingers slip just beneath the fabric. He feels her press her fingers in firm against his skin, right where his pulse leaps against her touch. “I feel your heart.”

Smoothly, and with recovering confidence, she takes hold of his hand, and brings it up to rest over her chest, pressing her hand firmly down atop his. “Do you feel mine?”

Of course he does. Even through the leather of his glove, he can feel the thrum of it. He can hear it clear as day. He nods subtly. “Yes.”

“They beat just the same,” she says, her voice such a low whisper, it could be meant for no one else. “You aren’t less for it, John. You’re more. You’re…” Layla pauses, breath catching in her throat. Her lips are parted, her eyes flickering across his face. He hears the dry click of her throat as she swallows.

“What?” He prompts, leaning closer to her. “What am I?”

“A force of nature,” she breathes, licking her lips. The glisten of them distracts him briefly. “You captivate me.”

Homelander’s lips twitch. This is what he wants. Veneration, adoration, awe. This is what he is owed.

“Do I scare you?” he asks, leaving his hand as an anchor upon her chest, his ego soothed.

Layla holds his gaze, heartbeat impressively steady. “Should I be scared?”

Touché. He had considered shattering her.

“No.”

“Good,” she says, which feels to him a praise. Her smile is gentle, as is the way she draws her hand up from his neck to cup his face. Homelander leans into it, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. Much to his delight, she kisses him. It’s enough for him to let slide the slippery way she answered his question. Her level pulse and the sweet vanilla smell of her are enough of an answer for now.

Homelander pushes deeper into the kiss. The emotional outpour has left him feeling carved out, hollow. He shifts his hand to the back of her neck and pulls her into him, craves the way he knows she can fill up this emptiness. He suspends himself weightlessly over her, hovering with his power of flight so that he can slide his gloved hand up her exposed thigh, following the slit of her dress.

Layla’s heart jumps in a way he likes. He can feel her flustering as his touches become more intense, more purposeful. She parts her lips like an invitation, and he slips his tongue eagerly between them. He loves the way her hands slide into his hair, the touch familiar and unreserved. He wants more, wants her intimately acquainted with every inch of him so that she might never again hesitate to touch him.

Be mine.

Homelander moves from her lips to her jaw, kissing his way down her neck. The deep neckline of her dress is too delicious to ignore, disheveled from the way he was pressed against her. He follows it with his lips, brushing them along the inner swell of her breasts, wanting desperately to taste her. He makes his way lower, kissing beyond her neckline to her stomach, savoring the way her hands tighten in his hair, tugging and pushing like she can’t decide where she wants him.

He’s delighted to make that call for her.

He nearly makes it between her legs, where he can already smell exactly how deliciously sweet she’ll taste, before she stops him with a decidedly sharp tug on his hair and a breathy but firm, “John.” His gaze flickers up to her. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Her lips are shiny and kiss-swollen, hair thoroughly mussed, backlit by the lamp behind her like a goddamn halo. He doesn’t want to destroy her, but he does want to ruin her.

“I need to know that you hear me,” she tells him, an unexpected edge of desperation in her tone. It cuts through the haze of hunger fogging his mind. “I want this to work, but in order for that to happen, you have to abide by the boundaries we set. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah,” Homelander answers briskly, a flash of irritation and impatience creeping into his voice. “Yeah, yes, yes, I hear you,” he says, desperately fighting to recalibrate his brain. Boundaries. Fucking boundaries. “No sex.”

“It’s not about the sex, it’s about expectations. Consent,” she says, shifting to sit up. He lets her.

“You already told me you want me, so what’s holding you back? What, because I didn’t–I didn’t check the right boxes? Seriously, Layla?” He asks incredulously, gesturing with his hands, his movements gradually becoming more erratic.

“Yes, John, seriously. Those aren’t just some boxes–they’re you and I mutually agreeing to an arrangement, and every time you break it, you’re telling me you don’t respect the arrangement. That you don’t respect me. What am I supposed to do with that? If you would just–”

“I don’t want to buy sex with you,” Homelander interrupts, bristling, irritated that she was forcing him to spell it out for her. “I want to fuck you because you want me.”

Layla’s lips part, she hesitates. Her brows furrow. He just wants to kiss that look off her face. “John, I’m a whore.”

Homelander scoffs, looking away from her, growing more aggravated. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. That was your word,” she insists, moving to stand up from the couch, but this time he stops her, taking hold of her wrists as he looks back to her. Unperturbed, she leans in and says, “If that word bothers you now, it’s because you’ve changed. I haven’t.”

“What happened to captivating you, huh?” He throws back, holding her firmly in place. “I’m not just another one of your clients.” Layla takes a breath to respond, but stops herself. He bites back a smirk. He’s right, and they both know it. “Let me take you to dinner.”

Layla’s expression blanks, like he’s just hit a reset button. “What?”

“Dinner,” he says again, setting her hands down into her lap, letting them go. He smiles at her, becoming more animated as he explains, gesturing between them. “You, me, rooftop steaks, the whole shebang. No–no contracts, or boxes, or whatever. A date.”

Crossing her arms, she’s starting to look uneasy. It makes him want to shake her a little, keep her from overthinking it the way she always does. “John, you couldn’t handle a relationship with me.”

“Jesus Christ, Layla!” He exclaims, voice laced with playful exasperation, lifting his hands skyward before dropping them back down into his lap. “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage here,” he says, laughing dryly. Not yet, anyhow. “I’m asking for a date. One night, you and me, no pretenses. My treat.”

Layla stares at him, looking wholly at a loss, but he can hear the gears in her mind turning. She’s already more or less admitted that she wants this–not to him, of course, but admitted nonetheless–so now all he has to do is wait. He’s certain he can see her falling to talk herself out of it.

“...One night,” she says at last. Homelander resists the urge to punch his fist into the air in victory, though he does grin widely. “Dinner. And… No suit.”

Homelander’s cocky grin drops off. “What?”

“No suit,” Layla repeats, firmer this time. “You come dressed as John.”

It takes him a moment to fully process her words. John. She’s making him regret giving her the fucking name. Homelander runs his tongue along his teeth before he bites down on it, looking away. His suit is more him than ‘John’ ever will be. He chuckles mirthlessly. “I always wear my suit.”

“I never date clients,” Layla counters immediately, like the words were already locked and loaded on her tongue.

Homelander’s eyes flicker back over to her, narrowing minutely. Once again, she kicked his legs out from under him, and effortlessly leveled the playing field, forcing them both into a compromise. He can refuse, but so can she. Inhaling slowly and deeply, he then exhales the word, “Fine. ”

Something in Layla eases with his reluctant compliance, the tense line of her shoulders relaxing into a delicate curve. After a moment, Homelander reaches out, adjusting the neckline of her dress. “Will you wear this?” He asks, running his finger along the seam where the fabric meets her skin.

“Do you want me to?” Layla asks, which does tease a small chuckle out of him.

“Yes.”

“Then ask me to wear it.”

Homelander looks up at her. “Wear this dress on our date,” he says, though a quirk of her brow swiftly has him reassessing his words. That was telling, not asking. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “Will you wear this dress on our date… Please?” He asks, the word slipping from his tongue much easier than it used to.

Layla gives him a once over, less playful than he usually expects of her. She’s still thinking too much. Regardless, she has a faint smile when she meets his stare. “I will.”

He smiles in return, cupping her face in his hands as he brings her swiftly in for a kiss. Giddiness bubbles in his chest. Finally, they’ll be out of this fucking office. No forms, no beeping watch, no goddamn rules. Just an honest to god date.

“You won’t regret this,” Homelander murmurs against her lips.

Layla doesn’t respond to that, but she does kiss him again, her touch as leisurely as ever. They spend a little time figuring out the logistics of their date, settling on the following Friday, the night before his Vought sponsored birthday promotion, and in place of what would be their next session. After that, the two are able to finish out the session in peace, kissing and touching languidly. He has a hard time letting go of her, knowing it'll be a full, agonizing week before he has her in his arms again, but the renewed context of their meeting has him more excited than remorseful.

As far as Homelander’s concerned, with only the outcome ultimately mattering to him, the session couldn’t have gone better.

Chapter Four.

#homelander x oc #homelander fanfiction #my writing #eat your ego #holy smokes icb this took so long #holidays and illness and injury took me OUT #but it's here!!!!

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ginnyw-potter · 1 year

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In his arms

Harry could not stand to see the devastation of losing a brother, a son. The way the Weasleys pulled themselves out of bed, exhausted and set themselves to work around the house just to keep going.

He could not make Fred return, and he could not fix the hurt but he'd still try to help them in some way. He helped Mrs Weasley clean all the crockery that had garnered dust in their absence. He played chess with Ron and chatted about how he'd win next time. He helped Mr Weasley close up the gnome holes that were bigger than ever. He talked to Percy about new regulations being passed. He discussed their heist in Gringotts with Bill. He helped George sort through paperwork. He told Charlie where to find the escaped Gringotts dragon.

Ginny wasn't doing anything at all, lying on her bed, staring at the wall.

"Everyone is keeping busy to avoid thinking… and you lie here stuck in your own thoughts," Harry said as he stepped into her room.

Her hazel eyes turned to him. "I don't mind it so much when I know they're my own thoughts.".

Harry stepped closer to her. "I haven't had my thoughts to myself in a long time."

Ginny patted the spot beside her. "You should try it out sometime."

"I think Percy may need-"

"You always do that. When you're upset or sad… you go around seeking out others to focus on instead of yourself," she said softly.

"I don't…" he trailed off when Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Maybe a little."

"Come here."

He nodded and kicked his shoes off before getting onto the bed, facing her. It was silent for a minute as they looked at each other.

"And?" Ginny asked.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think I'm doing this right, all I think of is you."

Ginny smiled and reached out to take his glasses off and put them aside. "Close your eyes."

Harry did as she said. After a while, the thoughts of Ginny simmered down but he didn't particularly like it. Too many feelings rose up, entirely his own for the first time, and he lay there with them.

"How's that?" Ginny asked softly.

Harry kept his eyes closed. "I don't know. I'm starting to think my temper is not nearly as bad as I thought."

"I know that," she said softly.

He opened his eyes again and looked at her. "Do you?"

"I can tell the difference between the actual upset and … whatever came on top of that."

"I'm not enjoying the rest of it though, it hurts."

Ginny placed a hand on his chest right by his heart. "Here?"

He nodded.

She smiled. "It'll get better. It only hurts there because you're so capable of love for the people around you. It's what sets you apart … from him."

Harry's hand covered hers on his chest. "I'm not sure if I like it all that much."

"You're not supposed to." Her eyes watered slightly.

"I was supposed to help you, not the other way around," Harry muttered.

"Trust me, you're helping," she said.

"Am I?"

She nodded. "Some of my hurt in here" — her hand touched her own chest — "goes away when you're here."

"Can I make it better?" Harry said but then he had already started pulling her closer to him, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her to his chest.

She wrapped an arm around his waist as she snuggled against him. "That works for me."

They fell silent for a moment until Ginny spoke. "If I lay here any longer, I'll fall asleep, you're comfy."

"I'm glad to be of help, go ahead and sleep."

Ginny curled into him even more, her face pressed against his chest and closed her eyes. He watched silently as she dozed off in his arms for the first time. He decided he wanted her to sleep in his arms for as long as she'd let him.

#hinny #fic #harry potter #ginny weasley #after the battle

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stripeixii · 6 months

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Ooooh yooo

Random writing idea

Loosely based on a possessed corpse AU idea I had, but not necessarily part of the AU.

This takes place in the future, I'd say Cassie is about in her mid to late 20s

Word cout: 2,070

Cassie looked over the cluttered driveway she sat in, her cinnamon coloured eyes taking in the decaying house and landscape with nervousness as she tried to will herself to get out of the car. The click and whirr of the seat belt retracting felt unreal as she took a breath and pushed open the car door.

She slipped out of it but hovered around the open door for longer than intended as the vehicle droned out an irritating beeping. She made a face as she bent down and snatched the keys from the car ignition.

She was just going to leave them in the car, but thought better of it, instead she retracted herself and shoved the car door shut with a thud.

She wasn't sure what she'd find, if anything but she at least had a small glimmer of hope for an expectation.

The dead leaves and dry overgrown weeds crunched with each step, and each step filled her with more dread. The cold breeze tore at her cheeks as it blew past, taking leaves with it into the autumn air. As she walked up the paved path to the house she frowned, she didn't like how time had treated her childhood home. The outside looked battered, dirty with decay, and falling apart. The shudders hung off broken hinges and the windows looked coated in grime. The siding was dingy and discolored while the yard and weeds had grown up around the house to help encase it in solitude.

She had to kick a clump of overgrown weeds and dead leaves to the side as she stepped onto the porch and ascended up the steps.

She gave a harsh gasp as her foot went through a part of the wood that was weak with decay and yanked her foot back. She was thankful for the boots she wore because that would have probably cut her leg all up. She forced herself to take another breath to calm down as she stared at the hole her foot had just made. Carefully she tapped around its edges with her toe, and then out in front of her in search of any more sunken in and decaying planks that made up the porch.

The cold air smelled like decaying plants and overhanging foliage, it reminded her of the wooded areas she'd sometimes play in when she was younger. It was a memory that felt bittersweet now as her gaze panned up to the door. Its dirty state was saddening.

With a strain of hesitance she grabbed the door handle to open it, but it was locked. She made a face in a moment of irritation, but a bit of pressure and resulting cracking noises had let her shove the door open.

She was immediately hit with the dence musty air and horrible stench. She recoiled and had to compose herself before entering, unsure if she'd like what she'd find.

“...Dad…?” She called out into the quiet and thick air, the sound bouncing a bit off the walls and decrepit furniture. She looked around the corridor a bit with a twinge of disappointment seeing so many things from memory desecrated with time. She stepped up to the coat hooks near the door, they were empty with the exception of a dirty pink and green windbreaker in a child's size, dust hiding the bright colors under a dull gray overlay. Reaching out to separate the sleeve and examine it she tried to stop the pained expression she made. Instead she released the sleeve and went to unhook the small jacket entirely. The movement jostled it enough to disturb whatever was in the pockets and it fell out in a shower by her feet.

She quietly exclaimed,

“Ah!” As she stepped backwards leaving the coat swaying a bit on the hook, but realizing what had happened she had stepped back in place. Bending a bit she examined what was on the floor; buttons, rocks, a marble, and a decayed piece of hard candy ( it looked like maybe bugs had gotten to it as the wrapper seemed relatively empty but was still wrapped neatly.)

She frowned, deeming it unhelpful and stepping back. Thanks younger cassie.

The silence that had fallen over the house, and the undisturbed creaks as she carefully walked along the floor made her reminisce in the warm memory of running through the house barefoot to see what her dad was doing, probably cooking something in the kitchen. There was almost always a soft ambiance of something playing, he didn't really like the silence either. It was always jarring when the power went out, and even the quiet hum of appliances was gone.

She stopped in about the middle of the small hall that was the entryway and sighed.

“I'm sorry I didn't take my shoes off,” she whispered as she looked to her feet on the dirty carpet and it brought her memory back to the many times she had walked over the nice off white carpet in mismatched socks, something she had taken for granted out of ignorance.

She blew a sigh from her mouth as she turned to walk through the familiar halls, all the while choking a bit on the air having to press her sleeve covered hand to her nose.

Her eyes caught a dust covered Pictureframe, knocked back against the other little decorations on the little shelf hanging from a nearby wall. She approached and scooped up the picture to look at it, it was a photo of the three of them, her momm dad, and her… it too held an odd sadness that distorted her features a bit.

The day they took this photo was such a nice one… they had gone out to a park with a pond, there were ducks! There were also frogs! Cassie gave a sad smile, even after her parents divorce he had still kept photos around, she knew that, but even now still seeing them about…

She glanced around a bit at the walls so she could look for other framed photos. It was like nothing had changed, had he never moved anything,

She stared at the photo she held a moment longer before setting it back in its place, and swiping at the dust collected on the glass with her thumb, it barely helped.

“Dad..?” She tried again as she continued forward with slow steps “I, Uh-”

She what?

She didn't know.

She was here, sure, but why?

Another bauble caught her eye, standing watch from inside the open cavity of a cabinet placed over drawers, she approached slowly and carefully stuck her hand in the cavity to grab it.

The movement caused a black blur to unfurl from the darkness and shove outward, nearly hitting her in the face as it flew out of the cubby.

“Ahk!” She yelled as she stumbled back, falling on the floor.

“Ah- Okay,” she tried to reassure herself, “It was a bat, I’m-” She exhaled. “It was just a bat…” she mumbled and after taking a moment she pushed herself up and swiped at the dirt that was collected on the back of her thighs.

“Okay,,,” she said again trying to reassure herself before looking at the item again. A little plush rabbit she remembered well. Again, a bit more cautiously this time, she reached out and pulled it from the shelf. The purple fabric was matted and grayed with dust, and it's face and body were a bit deflated as if it had lost volume over the years. Despite its sad appearance, it still radiates warmth she long missed. She hesitated a moment as she held it out, she was going to put it back but decided to instead shove it in her coat pocket.

She continued a bit further now and couldn't help but smile a bit as she stood in front of a cute green and purple decorated room, the glow-in-the-dark stars barely clung to the walls any more, they looked like a slight breeze would knock them down. Even coated in dust the frilly room seemed bright. She stepped into it and the familiar creaking from the floorboards of the doorway made her giddy, she wasn't sure if it was excitement or nervousness.

She trailed into the room and picked up

A stuffed toy that lay on the floor and she breathed out a bit of a sigh

The stuffed dog had seen better days, that's for sure. She turned a bit swiveling to glance around the room before deciding to walk across it and take a seat on the dusty bedspread; the mattress of the little twin bed sunk under her weight and the frame creaked. She blew out a breath as she set the dog up against the head of the bed with the pillows and other plush toys stashed there.

She could only handle reminiscing in the memories of the past for so long before she had to leave the bedroom, she thought she might start crying if she didn't.

Out of respect for preserving it metaphorically she pulled the door closed and stood there a long moment looking at the closed door, her eyes stuck to the funky font spelling out “Cassie” but the stickers were worn and peeling. The name wasn't recognizable from the halves a quarters of letters, more so that the initial lettering left a clean outline from where it blocked the build up of dirt.

She had to manually tear her gaze away and turn to walk back the way she had come.

She was quick to notice this side of the house smelled much worse.

Without thought she idly wondered if an animal had died here. She pressed her hand to her nose in hopes of just smelling the scent that clung to the fabric.

She frowned, and forced herself to pull her hand away from her face as she cautiously pushed open the half closed bedroom door she now stood in front of. It let out a long whiney creak before the top hinge broke and it fell at an odd diagonal with an unpleasant thud, she had stepped back in surprise but managed to not verbally react.

She stepped into the room and the floorboards creaked and shifted with her weight. She wasn't expecting it to break through the eerie silence and jumped a bit before gathering herself. She scanned the room, half darkened by torn and rotting curtains, but in the places they had completely fallen there was plenty of light creeping through to illuminate the room. Like being near the mouth of a cave, not the bright glass house atmosphere of light pooling in through all the windows and bouncing off all the walls like she's used to seeing from this room.

Her eyes finally fell to the bed across the room and she yelped, jumping back into the rotted door and smacking her head against it.

“Ow-!” She gave almost involuntarily as her hand had trailed to her head to rub the sore area.

Her eyes fell back on the bed, and the skeletal decayed mass that lay on it.

It took a lot to force her legs to move forward, but she did finally trail into the room and over to the bed to stand in front of the decrepit sight.

“Oh… god..” She managed to push out under her breath. As she looked over the gross pile of bones in front of her, it was vaguely human shaped and barely held together by thinly veiled skin draped around it, the translucency allowed you to see the inactive veins and decaying muscle beneath. There was barely anything left to identify it as even a person.

When one of the fingers twitched she thought her soul left her body as she jerked with a jump, stumbling back a few steps and emitting a yelp.

Panicked, her eyes were glued to it as she watched from this distance to make sure it wouldn't get up and attack her, it took a minute for her to approach again with eyes still a bit wide with shock.

On the left hand she could see the tarnished but barely decayed metal wedding band on what was left of a boney finger.

The realization had crept up on her and not addressing it made it attack her in a flood,

“Dad..?” She whispered

“How long have you been in here..?”

#fnaf #fnaf sb ruin #fnaf ruin #ruin dlc #fnaf cassie #fnaf sb ruin cassie #fnaf ruin cassie #fnaf cassie's dad #fnaf hw #fnaf vr #fnaf jeremy #fnaf hw jeremy #fnaf vr jeremy #fnaf vr hw #fnaf vr help wanted #fnaf vr hw jeremy #stripeixii writes stuff #cassies not the possessed corpse dw

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minzeysparkleisperfect8 · 2 years

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Class 1-B Headcanons

All the Class 1-B kids are on first name terms due to the majority of them being very close friends with each other... all while most of the Class 1-A kids are still on last name terms.

Hiryu is one of the smartest kids in the class - if not, the smartest - and he has the best grades, a lot of the students actually come to him for help on their homeworks and study notes.

Pony actually writes a shit-ton of fanfiction. She even began writing some about her own classmates without their knowledge.

Ibara is a genuinely nice girl but there are times when Yosetsu absolutely can not stand her. She always tells him to stop swearing for no other reason other than "it is sinful" and Yosetsu will just snap at her, saying "shut your bitch ass up. I'm not listening to some self righteous twat who queefs out bullshit after bullshit from that crusty snatch, you salted slug!"

Itsuka had to ban a few people from the kitchen who are completely irresponsible. Togaru because he tried using his blades to cut up food, only to cut through the counter; Tetsutetsu because nobody could forget what he said after Class B planned and cancelled a barbecue; Sen because he has no idea what to do when he's on his own and usually sets things on fire, and lastly Setsuna because she pranks people by letting her arm fall off when using a knife.

Sen is a rich kid and he usually asked his maid to make him food but now that he's in the dorms, he needs a lot of help with cooking and Hiryu is always willing to come and help him.

Tetsutetsu and Yosetsu usually play fighting games like Mortal Kombat and such in the living room and their own rooms. But once in Yosetsu's dorm, Yosetsu kicked Tetsutetsu's ass so badly that Tetsutetsu punched a hole in the floor and all Yosetsu could do was cover it with a carpet while waiting for someone to come fix it... but Yosetsu actually forgot about it to due to getting used to avoiding it until Momo came over one day and her foot went straight through the floor and broke her ankle. Yosetsu ended up fixing it himself and he took care of Momo as an apology.

Hiryu is one of the most wholesome people in Class B and he's very understanding to others. He offers tea to his classmates when they come to him for advice but he struggles with keeping secrets and he sucks at lying. He especially hates it when people lie to him.

Jurota has multiple dog like traits and he always fetches after balls and sticks people throw for him for fun. It's one of his favourite things to do with Setsuna and Kosei.

Speaking of Jurota having dog like traits, Hiryu has multiple cat like traits. He will drop everything when someone uses a laser point and will senselessly chase the red dot he sees. He'll sometimes even sit on the counter or the table for no reason.

Togaru might be angry 24/7 but the one person that nobody wants to get angry is Hiryu. Hiryu is absolutely terrifying when he's angry and the class saw this first hand when Neito accidentally broke a family vase in Hiryu's home. The class made a rule to never make Hiryu mad.

Kosei is the best cook if anyone wants a full meal or even just a snack, he will stop whatever he's doing and get started on making a plate for any of his friends.

Setsuna and Tetsutetsu grew up in Saitama prefecture together and they were practically like siblings. People have actually asked if they were dating and the duo's response to that was throwing up.

Everyone is 100% down to defending Nirengeki when someone judges him for his weight. They understand that its because of his thyroid problems but they have to keep Reiko from using her quirk to throw a piano at judgemental people. They can't help it, especially when Nirengeki can easily deck those assholes himself.

Shihai enjoys pranking his classmates for no reason and he always gives Yosetsu jumpscares, which results in the headband boi punching him in the face. This has resulted in Shihai and Yosetsu hating each other with a passion.

Juzo actually has a crush on Sen but he knows that he doesn't have a chance considering how committed Sen is to Hiryu. Juzo just pines from afar and suffers in heartache.

Manga and Kojiro usually accompany each other when they leave the dorms. Manga always goes to buy toys and drawing supplies that he then gives to children in orphanages. After the children saw Kojiro for the first time, they thought he was a living statue from a playground and they asked to play with him.

Reiko and Hiryu are pretty chill friends and they enjoy the spooky things, especially since both have based their hero costumes around an urban monster. Sometimes they watch horror movies together and read through creepypastas while Nirengeki and Sen try not to freak out when they see jumpscares in the movies.

Yui has a lot of plants in her rooms because they don't force her out of her comfort zone compared to whenever she gets into social situations.

Since Kinoko is a fan of idols, everybody pitched in to buy her a karaoke machine for her birthday. She cried so many tears of joy and hugged all of her classmates.

Nirengeki usually has to make sure Reiko goes to sleep because she normally does late night readings of creepypastas with a cup of coffee. He has slept over in her room to make sure that she isn't doing that every night.

Neito is flamboyant and he's always in denial that he cares for his classmates. He doesn't know that all of them know that he really does because Shihai snuck into his dorm and showed his diary to the class.

@anxiouslyangsty13, @king-switch and @booberry-shodeiko

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thecleverqueer · 1 year

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Random Thoughts during the last two episodes of “The Wrong Jedi” Arc from “The Clone Wars”:

•Part three- Random thoughts during The Clone Wars S5:E19 “To Catch a Jedi”:

*Plo Koon knows that his baby daughter Ahsoka isn’t guilty.

*I get why Yoda chose Plo Koon and Anakin to go down to the lower depths to find Ahsoka; they would be the most likely candidates to talk her down from the ledge, but it still feels kind of underhanded.

*Ahsoka’s wanted poster is fierce AF. Just sayin’. Fierce AF.

*Notice that the first person Ahsoka thinks to call after the smoke clears is Barriss. Barriss seems legitimately concerned about Ahsoka’s safety. Don’t use the Jedi-com, Ahsoka. They’re watching.

*Oh Ahsoka, that cloak is not a great disguise. Your montails are literally sticking out of it. It’s adorable, but honestly… you’re not going to fool anybody.

*Ahsoka is a master of parkour.

*To hell with the bootlicking jerk on the train… Ahsoka is running from the cops because she’s being accused of a crime that she did not commit, and this dude is butting his nose in affairs that don’t concern him. Stay TF out of it.

*One should feel bad for Ahsoka at this point. She’s not thinking clearly at all. She’s cutting a hole in the roof of that elevator, and that Twi-lek kid is like, “um, use the button to stop it, dumbass.”

*Here come Ahsoka’s brothers again!

*Did Ahsoka get Ventress that pardon? That was a bold promise. I don’t think Ventress really cared. She felt bad for Ahsoka. It’s that gray coming through.

*Those looks that Ahsoka and Barriss give each other on that holo call. My god… the angst… It’s like they’re going to reach through the video somehow and kiss each other. I mean, look… look and give me one heterosexual explanation. I’ll wait:

It’s so gay, it’s ridiculous. Side note: Barriss has really f*^%ed up here. She’s still trying to save Ahsoka’s ass, but she sucks so badly at improvising that she has only succeeded in making everything monumentally worse for her.

*The hand-to-hand combat between Ahsoka and Ventress versus the Clones is so badass. Ventress goes straight feral. That move she does after Wolfe grabs her from behind…holy shit! She just growls, kicks the shit out of two clones and head butts Wolfe. Epic. “See? Didn’t kill a one. It’s the new me.”

*Barriss knocking Ventress out with the pipe to the head was savage. I still can’t tell if she’s trying to frame Ventress up as the mastermind behind the bombing, or if she thinks Ahsoka and Ventress are boning and she has decided to kick both their asses for it.

*Ahsoka has fought Ventress before. I think it’s odd that she doesn’t realize it’s not Ventress here even if Barriss is trying to mimic Ventress’s fighting style. Ventress does not stop talking shit when she duels someone. Barriss is silent.

*This is honestly a brutal ass-beating. It’s Barriss’s kicking Ahsoka into the wall over and over again for me. Ahsoka is clearly tired or something and is not fighting her best fight. Give her a break!

*Uh. It’s painful… Ahsoka just doesn’t know when to stop. She keeps getting up. Sometimes, I wish she would just stay down for a minute to recuperate.

*Aaaannnddd, Ahsoka falls right into the nano-droids. Barriss runs off as the Clones come to collect Ahsoka. *Face-palm* So either…

A.) Barriss loses her nerve, is afraid that she’s going to get caught and runs off leaving her girlfriend in an even worse predicament… because she is the worst improviser ever. Or…

B.) She’s convinced that Ahsoka is cheating with Ventress and has left her to rot. Either way, damn.

*Wolfe isn’t going to let you explain. Ahsoka is screwed.

•Part four- Random thoughts during The Clone Wars S5:E20 “The Wrong Jedi”:

*Padawan Tano is not going to get a fair trial. You heard it here first.

*Tarkin is truly awful. He has honestly had a problem with Ahsoka since The Citadel arc, and I know he’s loving all of this. F*^%ing fascist asshole.

*God, the Jedi council pisses me off here… I suppose it shouldn’t though. On the one hand, they are kowtowing to the senate. But, on the other, I mean, their hands really are tied. If it had just been the video recording of Ahsoka supposedly choking Letta, they may have been able to swing something, but between Barriss’s questionable improvising, and Ahsoka’s running, Ahsoka does look guilty AF.

*I tend to think Yoda, Obi-Wan, and Plo voted in Ahsoka’s favor.

*Ahsoka’s eyes are so sad. You can feel her stomachs drop. I don’t know why the temple guards had to be so rough yanking her padawan silka beads off either. Someone just please give her a hug and tell her that everything is going to be okay, even if you don’t believe it.

*Anakin having another Vader moment with Ventress.

*Anakin: How dare you compare yourself to Ahsoka!

Ventress: It’s true! My master abandoned me, and that’s exactly what you did to her… you and your precious Jedi Order.

Anakin: *Looking around like there are no lies detected in Ventress’s statement. Feeling that slippery slope.*

*Tarkin is aiming for the death penalty in this trial, and Ahsoka is only 17! He’s trying to put a kid to death for sedition. What a dick!

*You can tell Anakin is pissed when he gets to Barriss’s door. I’m surprised that he doesn’t kick it in, and force choke a confession out of her. He probably warned her before she and Ahsoka started dating. “Hurt her and I’ll end you.” Well, here we are.

*You are in trouble, Barriss.

*I love how Barriss is still trying to cast the blame back on Ventress. Like, no, baby, the gig is up.

*Anakin: *growling* Ahsoka trusted you and you betrayed her!

Barriss: I’ve learned that trust is overrated. The only thing the Jedi council believes in is violence.

That line… was it the cheating thing!? I’m so confused by that line. One thing that I do know about Jedi is that if they did decide to get into a forbidden relationship, they’d definitely be too autistic to cheat. Ahsoka is no exception.

*Barriss doesn’t fight with the same brutality against Anakin as she did with Ahsoka. It was almost as if she was toying with Ahsoka, and now she’s trying to save her own ass against Anakin.

*”Cease hostilities.” Oh Barriss, no.

*The end of the fight between Anakin and Barriss is my favorite part. It’s like Anakin grows tired of her bullshit, and starts raging. Like, the ONLY reason that he did not end her right there is because he needed her to go and confess to the crimes in front of the senate. You were warned, Barriss. You know you got that shovel talk.

*Anakin walks in right before that guilty verdict was handed down, and Ahsoka’s like, “Thank the force…”

*But…. It’s immediately doused with the realization that it’s…. “Barriss!? Oh shit!!”

*Someone help scrape Ahsoka’s jaw off the floor.

*Obi-Wan gives Barriss a death stare. He’s up in the peanut gallery thinking, “you stupid f*^%ing bitch.” Oh Barriss, you’ve officially lost the in-laws.

*You can tell Barriss is sorry immediately. The look she shoots Ahsoka *grits teeth*. Ahsoka is going to grow up to be the hottest lesbian in the Galaxy, and Barriss just fumbled their whole relationship. Ouch.

*Ugh, and you can tell Barriss just broke Ahsoka’s heart... I mean, look at her… she can’t even find joy in her exoneration:

This is the face of someone whose heart was just shattered into a million pieces.

*Ahsoka isn’t buying the Jedi council’s bullshit. I’m not confident that they’re knighting her here, but they did say that this was her great trial. Ahsoka doesn’t care. Ahsoka’s emotions are on 15.

*The moment Ahsoka “nopes” the return to the Jedi order still punches me in the gut. I’ve watch this arc half a dozen times, and it still hits. Jeeze. “I’m sorry master, but I’m not coming back.”

*Obi-Wan feels compelled to chase Anakin and Ahsoka down, but is stopped by Plo Koon. Oh, the emotion that Obi-Wan, Anakin AND Ahsoka would have had… knowing the three of them have zero control over their emotions combined would have been something else entirely.

*The look on Yoda’s face is brilliant, too. Yeah. He knows he has f*^%ed up royally. This is all going to end badly.

*I tend to think Ahsoka’s completely unchecked feelings are why she couldn’t remain at the temple as a Jedi. She had enough clairvoyance to know that she couldn’t stay because her emotions were completely off the charts. Not only did the Jedi council not trust her, her girlfriend betrayed her, and she’s feeling all kinds of negative feels in that moment. “I can’t stay here any longer….not now.”

*Also, Ahsoka knew about Anakin and Padme. It is confirmed here with this…

Anakin: I understand. More than you realize. I understand wanting to walk away from the order.

Ahsoka: … I know.

*Oh, Ahsoka’s tears as she walks down the temple steps towards the sunset with that music playing… Damn. Damn. Damn. 😭

*Then, you hear Ahsoka’s theme and that’s it… you don’t see her again until Season 7… where she’s smuggling drugs with her rebound girlfriend and Barriss is still living rent-free in her head. It’s art! Dammit! Art!!!

#star wars #ahsoka tano #the clone wars #ahsoka being gay #barriss offee #ahsoka and barriss #barrissoka #barriss deserved better #anakin skywalker #admiral tarkin #the wrong jedi #sw tcw

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