#the whole story is a what the fuck moment

[requiemforthepoets]

this is me trying 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: growing up, the only thing you know is that you need to be strong, provide, and take care of your sister. but being with oscar, it was different, he made you feel things—that it’s okay to not be fine, vulnerable, and to be taken care of.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have this fic finished the other day but i was debating on whether to post it or not, but here we are. it’s been a while too since i last wrote for oscar, and this is like a comfort (?) fic idk lol. also, can i just say that LANDO ON POLE FOR THE SG GP!!! 😭🧡 ok, i hope you guys will have fun reading this one. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, eldest daughter syndrome, no use of y/n, cursing, unnamed sister, named friend, and parents death

You were sitting in the living room, surrounded by case files and legal books, trying your best to prepare for the court trial that you’ll be doing soon, but your mind was elsewhere. You can't focus on the work that you’re working on in front of you, no matter how hard you try. Your phone buzzed, and you almost didn’t answer, thinking it’s just another work call, but when you saw Blaire, your friend’s name, flash on the screen you quickly picked up, expecting a casual chat.

“Hey, Blaire, how are you?” You greeted her, trying to mask your exhaustion.

Her voice on the other end was hesitant, not the usual warm tone that you’re used to. “Hey…I really hate to bring this up, but I was wondering when you would be able to repay the five thousand dollars?”

Your stomach dropped. “Repay?” You repeated, utterly confused. “What do you mean five thousand dollars?”

The conversation between you and Blaire unraveled quickly. She explained how she had lent the money to your sister out of need, thinking it was for you or with your approval. Rage bubbled in your chest, your pulse quickened, at this point all you can see is red. You thanked her hastily, barely able to end the call before fury overtook you. Without thinking, you dialed your sister’s number, the beeps echoing in your ear like a countdown to an explosion.

“Hello?” Her voice was casual, completely unaware of the storm coming her way.

“What the actual fuck did you do?!” You yelled, not caring if it was late at night. “You borrowed five fucking thousand dollars from Blaire without asking me!? How could you?!”

There was a pause, a brief moment where you could almost feel her shrug through the phone. “Oh my god, can you relax? It’s not like you can't afford it. It’s not that big of a deal, you can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making, it’s barely a scratch on your bank account!” You couldn’t believe what you were actually hearing.

“Not a big deal? Did you spend the money already? Do you have any fucking idea how humiliating it is for me that you did this without even consulting me? You think just because I make good money, I’ll fix every mess you create?” You were seething.

“Well, yeah,” she responded with a laugh, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation. “You’re my older sister. Isn’t it your job to take care of me, right?”

Your grip on your phone tightened. “I’ve been taking care of you your whole life! I’m working myself to the bone just to make sure you have everything you need, sending you to that fancy school that you’ve always wanted so you can have a better future, and this is how you repay me? By lying and stealing?”

The silence on the other end of the line felt heavy, but your anger has not subsided. She mumbled something that sounded like a half assed apology, but it was already too late for that. You immediately hung up and slammed the phone down on the table, heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. Anger still swirling inside you like a storm, the words of your sister still echoing in your mind. You can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making. Her carelessness, lack of respect—it hit harder than anything you had experienced before. It wasn’t about the money, you could handle the five thousand dollars easily, but the way she completely dismissed your hard work, as if it was nothing, as if your sacrifice and years of struggle meant nothing—that was what burned deep. It hurts like fucking hell.

You sat down there on the couch, trying to calm yourself down, tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. You didn’t cry. You cannot cry. You have always been strong your whole life—the provider, carer, and protector. That’s who you were. No one had ever taken care of you, not since your parents passed away when you were fifteen and your sister is only ten. It has always been you, alone, against the world, and now, it felt like even your sister was against you.

You didn’t hear Oscar enter the living room until his voice, soft but firm, broke through the silence. “Hey, I heard you from our room. Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, your body automatically stiffening instinctively and continued browsing through your documents like nothing happened.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” you lied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

Oscar walked over and sat down beside you on the couch, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “You don’t always have to be fine,” he said quietly. “Tell me, what happened?”

You exhaled sharply, your hands trembling as you ran them through your hair. “It’s my sister,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “She borrowed money from Blaire. Five thousand dollars. Without even telling me. Now, she’s acting like it’s my job to fix it.”

“Five thousand? That’s a lot.” Oscar frowned, his brows knitting in concern.

“I know,” you said, “she doesn’t even care. She just assumes I’ll take care of it, like I always do every time she gets into stupid situations. She thinks just because I earn good money, I’m supposed to fix everything.” Your voice cracked, and before you could stop it, the tears you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Oscar. I’m always the one fixing things, I’m always the one who has to be strong.”

Oscar didn’t say anything for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes filled with understanding. Then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. You tensed at first, still not used to being vulnerable, but Oscar’s embrace was warm, grounding. Slowly, your body relaxed into his, and the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little as you rested your head against his chest.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered to him. “I’ve always had to be the strong one. I’m tired, Oscar. I’m so fucking tired. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

His hand gently stroked your back, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know. It’s okay to be tired. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his face, “I just don’t know how to let anyone help me,” you admitted, voice barely audible. “I’ve been doing this for so long, I don’t know how to not be the one in control.”

“I get that. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore. I’m here. Let me be strong for you, too.” Oscar smiled gently, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The idea of letting someone else carry even a fraction of the weight feels completely foreign to you. But as you looked at Oscar, his eyes full of sincerity, something inside you shifted. Maybe, it’s time you let it all fall down, you didn’t have to carry everything on your shoulders all the time.

“What am I supposed to do about her?” You asked, your voice small but steady now.

Oscar sighed softly, thinking for a moment. “You have all the right to be angry and upset. Your feelings are valid,” he said. “She needs to learn that actions have consequences. But at the same time, she’s your sister. She’s young, and sometimes young people tend to make mistakes. You’ve been doing everything for so long that she probably hasn’t learned how to take responsibility for herself yet.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Yeah, maybe. But I can’t just let her think she can keep doing this.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you also don’t have to do this alone. We can figure it out together.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. Maybe you didn’t always have to be the strong one, the provider, the protector. With Oscar by your side, you could learn how to let someone else carry the weight with you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into him once more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oscar smiled, pressing a soft tender kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to find out, I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

The next morning, you stared at the screen of your laptop, fingers moving quickly over the keys as you finished drafting the contract. The legal jargon was familiar, comforting even, but the fact that you had to use it against your own sister left a bitter taste in your mouth. The contract was firm, direct, and laid out the consequences clearly: five thousand dollars, to be repaid in installments, with interest and penalties if the deadline is missed. You hated doing it—your heart never felt so heavy—but you knew it was necessary. You had been too lenient for far too long, if she didn’t learn this now, she might never understand the true value of money and the responsibility that came with it. It was time for her to learn the hard truths you had known your entire life.

Oscar was sitting across the table, sipping his coffee, watching you in silence. “You’ve finished it?” He asked gently. You had told him last night that you need to straighten everything out, and told him your plan, in which he quickly supported you.

You nodded, eyes scanning the contract one last time before saving it. “Yeah. She’s not going to like it, but this has to be done.” You sighed, “I’ve been too lenient, too forgiving. I can’t keep cleaning up after her messes.”

“You’re doing the right thing.” He said as he reached over, placing his hand over yours. “It’s tough, but you’re teaching her a lesson she won’t forget.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, glancing out the window, the weight of responsibility pressing down on you once more. “I’ve never been one to ask for anything back, but she needs to learn that she can’t just treat me like this. I want her to be successful, but she can’t rely on me forever.”

Later that day, you booked a flight for her to Monaco, and notified her about the flight schedule. She was studying in Switzerland, and it would be a four hour flight from Switzerland to Monaco. It was time to have this conversation face-to-face. You couldn’t keep allowing her to avoid responsibility just because you were miles apart. This is a conversation that is long overdue.

A couple of days later, she arrived at your and Oscar’s shared apartment. She seemed different—more subdued, perhaps. You could tell the weight of your anger still lingered in her mind. She greeted you cautiously, her eyes flickering to Oscar, who stood nearby, his presence calm but protective.

“Sit down,” you said, pointing to the couch.

She looked at you, clearly trying to gauge your mood, but she did as she was told. You sat across from her, with Oscar by your side, and the freshly printed contract lying on the table between you. The tension in the living room was thick.

“I had already settled your debt with Blaire,” you began, your voice calm but firm. “But this conversation is not just about the money. It’s about respect, about responsibility.”

“I said I was sorry.” She crossed her arms, trying to play it cool.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” you snapped, your patience was already running thin, barely hanging on by a thread. “I have been providing for you because I want nothing but the best for you. But what you did was careless, and you disrespected everything I’ve done for you. You didn’t even ask me before borrowing that money, and then you just blatantly assumed I would handle it. You do this every time to me, you always get me into awkward and humiliating situations.”

She bit her lip, her attitude wavering. “I know, but you make so much—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut her off, about to lose your cool but Oscar had managed to calm you down by softly caressing your back. “Yes, I make good amount of money, but that money just doesn’t magically appear. I have worked hard, harder than you can imagine, to get to where I am. Do you want to know what’s worse? What’s worse is that you’re not even thinking about how hard it is to earn that money, how I burn myself off everyday. So I’m making you earn it back.” You slid the contract towards her.

“What’s this?” She looked down at it, then back at you, looking all confused.

“It’s an agreement,” you said. “I’ve decided to give you the five thousand dollars. Consider what you bought from that money as a gift, because I know you’ve been doing well in school, and it’s been a while since I’ve given you anything. But this will never happen again. You owe me that money, and you're going to pay it back. Every cent of it, with interest.” Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off before she could even speak.

“This is not negotiable. I’m still going to support you, I’m still going to pay for your tuition, but you need to learn how hard it is to earn this kind of money. You’re going to work for it, and I'll expect proof—payslips, records—everything. If you miss a payment, there will be penalties added, and if you refuse or try to make a fool out of me, I’m not afraid to take legal action.”

“You’d sue me? Your own sister?” She stared at you in disbelief.

“Yes, I would,” you said coldly. “I don’t want to, but you’ve left me with no choice. You are already eighteen and will turn nineteen in two months, you are already capable of knowing what’s right and wrong. You need to understand that I’m not going to bail you out every time you mess up, this is your responsibility now.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Her face was a mix of shock and anger, but you could tell the gravity of the situation was already starting to sink in.

“I’m not trying to be harsh,” you said softly, leaning forward. “But I’ve been in your shoes, and I know firsthand how hard life can be. I have shielded you from that, and maybe that was my mistake. But if you’re going to succeed in this world, you need to understand that nothing is free, nothing in life is free. Everything comes with a cost.”

Oscar then leaned forward, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’re not doing this to hurt you,” he added, tone gentle but firm. “But this is a wake-up call. You need to understand how your sister has worked so hard, and how important it is that you start contributing. No one’s saying you have to do it alone, but you have to start doing something.”

Your sister’s eyes shifted between the two of you, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of guilt in her expression. She glanced back down at the contract, and you handed her a pen.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it. I’ll pay you back.” Her attitude and defiance slowly faded from her face.

“Good.” You nodded, “then sign it.”

She hesitated for only a moment before scribbling her signature across the bottom of the contract. You felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness, knowing you had to be this tough, but also hoping it would be the turning point she needed.

“You can stay with us while you’re in Monaco,” you told her, “but I expect you to find a job as soon as possible. If you fail to keep up with your end of the deal, there will be consequences. Understood?”

“Understood.” She nodded, though her expression was still a mix of resentment and defeat.

You exhaled, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you. This wasn’t easy, and you hated having to be this strict with her, but it had to be done. Oscar wrapped his arm around you, his touch grounding as soon as you watched your sister head towards the guest room.

“You did the right thing,” he said quietly.

“I hope so,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I just want her to grow up.”

“Don’t worry, she will.” Oscar assured you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “With you as her sister, she doesn’t have much of a choice,”

Later that evening, the apartment finally fell quiet, dinner was definitely awkward and quiet, but with your sister already tucked away in the guest room, the weight of everything you had said and done began to settle in. You were sitting at the edge of the bed, heart heavy and mind replaying what had happened earlier over and over. The way your sister had looked at you—hurt and angry—it cut deeper that you were willing to admit.

You had always been strong, but this strength had come with a cost. Now, sitting in the stillness of the night, the reality of your actions hit you like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just the contract or the money, it was the fear—the fear that in trying to teach her a lesson, you might have pushed her too far. That in being the disciplinarian, you had damaged something that might never fully recover or heal.

Oscar entered the room quietly, sensing the shift in your mood. He sat beside you, his presence had always been comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions you had been holding back.

“Was I too harsh, Osc?” You whispered, voice barely audible.

He frowned slightly, tilting his head to look at you. “No, you weren’t. She needed to hear all of it.”

“I know,” you replied, voice trembling. “But what if I lose her because of this? What if she hates me for it?”

You felt your tears welling up again, but this time you couldn’t stop them anymore. They spilled down your cheeks, unchecked, as you finally let go of the tension and frustration you had been carrying.

“I’m not being harsh to punish her, I just want her to understand how hard life is, how much I’ve sacrificed. But what if all she sees is me being cruel?”

Oscar pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you broke down. You rested your head on his chest, sobs coming in waves, guilt and fear crashing over you. You had always been strong for so long—too long—and now, it felt like everything was unraveling.

“She’s my baby sister,” you choked out between sobs. “I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want her to think I’m just some heartless person who only cares about money.”

Oscad held you tighter, his voice calm and steady as he spoke. “She won’t hate you. Not forever. She’s upset now, sure. But she’s young, and right now, she probably doesn’t understand why you’re doing this. But she will, trust me. One day, she’ll look back at it and realize that you did this because you love her.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening with the weight of your emotions. “I feel like I’m always the one who has to be the bad guy. I never get to be the one who’s just there for her, to support her without judgment.”

Oscar stroked your hair gently, his voice soothing. “You’ve done more for her than anyone else ever could. You’ve given her everything. You’re not the bad guy, you’re her protector, even when it means being tough on her. Yeah, maybe this will cause a rift for now, but it won’t last. She’ll come around, she’ll see that you’re doing this because you care.”

You pulled away slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” Oscar said firmly. “But even if it takes time, you can’t keep beating yourself up for doing what’s right. You’re teaching her a lesson that no one else will. You’re giving her the tools to grow up, to be responsible. Sometimes, that means being tough. That’s tough love.”

You nodded, but the guilt still gnawed at you. “I just wish I didn’t have to be this person all the time. The one who fixes things, who keeps everyone in line.”

“I know. But you’re not doing this alone anymore, okay? I’m here. Whenever it feels like it’s too much, rest on me. You can always rest on me.”

You leaned into him again, his warmth easing the ache that you’re feeling inside of you. “I just hope she understands someday,” you whispered.

“She will,” Oscar said softly, kissing the top of your head. “And until then, you’ve done what you needed to do. You’ve set her on the right path, and that’s what matters.”

As the tears slowly subsided, you felt a flicker of hope, knowing that even though this was hard, it was necessary. Even if your sister doesn't see it now, you could only hope that one day, she would understand that everything you did was out of love.

The weight on your shoulders became a little lighter, knowing that Oscar was right. Even if it took time, even if there were still battles to fight, you knew you weren’t facing them alone anymore, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to breathe. You had done what needed to be done. Now it was up to your sister to follow through.

[pinesorneedles]

the thing i just don't get about the whole "buffy should be alone" thing is that her most consistent internal struggle throughout the show is a sense of perpetual loneliness due to her position as the slayer. like, her being 16 and forced into duty that she's not able to step away from. and when the show transitions from being about growing up to living in adulthood, the biggest thing that stays with her is this sense of perpetual loneliness.

and the way that "a woman should not be defined by the men she's involved with" associates to "women aren't deserving of support systems" is so,,, fucked up. that faux-feminist idea that women having independence is more important than women being involved in community (and the way the scoobies, including spike, initially form such a "it takes a village" approach to raising dawn) does such a disservice to what i feel the strengths of the show are.

and come ON! buffy holds her own both narratively and in the story of the show. she's never a character who's traits are changed or defined based on who surrounds her. while i certainly have criticisms of the writing of the show, buffy is such a consistently well-drawn character. but she is affected by the people in her life at any given moment. in the way any good character should be.

anyways let my girl be happy with a man who's able to see her in both her loneliness and her joy.

[pitviperofdoom]

High School Time Travelers, Part 2

It's finally here! Follow up to this story.

***

“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”

Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.

Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”

Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What the fuck, Raph.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.

But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.

“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”

“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”

Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”

“The what.”

“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”

Erin pulled a face.

“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”

“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.

“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”

“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”

Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”

“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”

“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”

Raph’s silence could not have been louder.

“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.

“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.

“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”

“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.

Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”

Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”

“Creepy what?”

“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”

Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.

“Dude.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”

“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”

Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”

“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”

Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.

“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”

“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”

“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”

“Dude, fuck your mom.”

“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”

Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”

“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”

“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.

Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”

“Shut up,” she said fondly.

“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”

There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.

“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”

“She does, don’t worry.”

“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”

Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”

She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”

“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”

“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”

“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”

“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”

“What?’

“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’

“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.

“Damian.”

“You’re... not...”

“You’d tell me, right?”

“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”

“Damian, I swear to God.”

“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”

Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”

“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.

***

“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.

She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—

Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.

Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.

DADI need you to talk to your brother.

Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.

lol why

DADHe’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.

Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.

what do you need me to do

DADJust coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.

why father dearest i’m surprised at youyou want me to lie under oath?

DADJust talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.

ok daddy ill do my best!

DADGood girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!

“Order up!”

Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.

Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”

“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”

The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”

“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”

Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.

“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.

“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”

“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.

“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.

Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.

“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”

“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.

“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.

“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.

“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.

“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”

Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”

“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”

“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.

“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”

Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”

“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”

Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”

And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.

Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and  Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.

“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”

“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”

“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”

“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”

Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”

“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”

“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”

[ladykailitha]

Eddie and Nancy

Just giving my brain a break from the Secret Tunnel (aka the game show) story. I still have two chapters to get through and my brain needs a cool down.

I've seen a lot of headcanons that Eddie is the Wheeler children's older half brother because of how much they look like each other.

But may I propose instead: cousins.

Hear me out.

You have first born, Elizabeth. Absolute hippie child. All about that free love, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. She learns how to play guitar, falls in with the charming and cool, Al Munson. They plan to tour the country his beat up old truck. But before that can happen, Elizabeth gets pregnant with Eddie. So she marries Al.

Then you have Karen, the younger sister. Bright, demure, absolute golden child. She dyes her hair and blows out the curls to more like waves so she doesn't look like Elizabeth anymore.

She does what she was raised her whole life to do. Get married to a good boy so they can have good children and pay taxes and never do anything fun.

When Elizabeth dies, Karen refuses to go to the funeral, hates that her name is even in the obituary at all. Then three years later when Al is sent to prison, CPS calls her first.

She's the boy's aunt. She has a comfortable home, and bringing him in would barely dent their finances. But Karen refuses. She won't have that delinquent anywhere near her children.

So they go to Wayne. Wayne who really doesn't have the space or the money to take care a little boy almost teenager. But he looks into those big brown eyes and can't say no.

They keep apart until the murders in town start in Wayne's own god damn trailer. He keeps his mouth shut when Nancy comes up to him asking about Eddie. He would like to throw it in her face that he knows who she is and that he knows full well that Karen would throw a fucking fit if she found out where her daughter was. But he won't. It's not the girl's fault her mother is a bitch.

After Vecna (and Eddie NOT dying) Nancy is sent to the attic to see if she can find some of Mike's old things to donate as a lot of Nancy's went to Holly. She finds an old trunk and though locked it comes apart in her hands. In it she finds dozens of pictures of her mom with beautiful girl with flying dark brown curls and sparkling eyes.

She smiles as she reminds her of Eddie.

Her mother calls out for her to hurry and slips one of the pictures in her back jeans pocket. Nancy closes the trunk and hurries back to her mother.

Then because Nancy can't leave a mystery well enough alone, she goes digging. All while Eddie and Max are in a coma, Nancy works on her mystery.

She finds her answer in the most unlikely of places. Joyce Byers's year book. She had it out showing her boys the outrageous hair styles they had in her day.

There two rows down from Lawrence Byers is an Elizabeth Childress. She's got ribbons in her hair and smiling brightly at camera. So full of life.

Childress.

She closes her eyes. There is no doubt this is her mother's sister. A sister Nancy never knew anything about.

She points her out to Joyce. "Oh, I remember her. Such a sweet girl. It's really too bad she fell in with that Munson boy. Or rather the wrong Munson boy."

She flips the pages and on the same row as her, is Wayne Munson staring up at her. So happy and free. The Vietnam would too soon take that from him. "That's Wayne. Such a good boy. Elizabeth would have thrived with him. But Wayne was shy and more interested in getting good grades than girls."

Joyce flips back to the seniors with Jim and Lonnie and began searching for the M's. "There." She pointed at another boy. Alan Munson. "He was trouble from the moment he was born. But he had a motorcycle and a leather jacket. Lizzy fell hard. They got married right out of high school, I heard."

Jonathan and Nancy share a look of shock.

"What happened to her?" Jonathan asks.

"Cancer," Joyce says sadly, "poor thing."

Armed with her knowledge and a borrowed yearbook, Nancy marches right up to her mother and slams the yearbook in front of her. The picture Nancy took from the attic serves as bookmark and she shoves both at her mother.

There is no denying it now. All the proof is right there in black and white.

"This is why you didn't want to join the D&D club my freshman year, isn't it? Because it was Eddie's club?"

Karen buries her head in her hands. And the truth just starts spilling out.

"And that boy is just like his father!" Karen cries. "He might have not have killed those kids but he was a drug dealer."

"To keep the lights on his trailer!" Nancy yells back. "If you and Dad had taken him in maybe he wouldn't have turned out the way he did. Maybe he be a better person."

"Or maybe he would have dragged you other children with him!"

"If you really thought that Mike wouldn't have been allow in Hellfire either!"

It's at this point Mike walks in and suddenly Karen is caught.

She breaks down and explains that Eddie had helped her with her car right before Mike started high school. So as a way to return the favor she let Mike join.

Nancy heads to the hospital and manages to get into see Eddie.

Wayne tells her only family is allowed to see him and Nancy smiles.

She knows.

Then Eddie wakes up, falls for Steve, the whole party teases Steve about keeping it in the family and Karen gets her head out of her ass and everyone lives happily ever after.

The end.

[petew21-blog]

Great Shift stories, Henry and Joey

Paparazzi:"Gentlemen, smile. Look to the right. Yeah. Good"

Henry and Joey were at the front of the hall, where the press conference was about to be held, before the release of the new Witcher season. They were all instructed to suit up and arrive. Henry felt like he was betraying Joey. They were about to announce soon, that he was leaving the Witcher TV series and passing the role to Liam Hemsworth. Henry didn't want to continue playing Geralt if the story wouldn't be more faithful to the books. Unfortunately, Joey already signed his contract and therefore had to play Jaskier for another year without Henry.

They stood next to each other. Joey couldn't pretend that he was happy. He was angry, because Henry didn't tell him soon enough how he felt and that he was leaving, trapping Joey in a job he started to hate. He felt betrayed

Back then nobody knew what happened in the following moments. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was intentional. But all they knew was that suddenly all around them was pure chaos. The whole city confused and screaming. Most of the planet swapped bodies with someone standing close to them. Some were very unlucky, in some cases the swap was lethal or caused many people to die. But some people got really lucky. Just like Joey and Henry here

They were obviously both shocked when they found themselves in each other's bodies. But they were interrupted by the people around them screaming and shouting at each other.

Joey in Henry's body:"Henry? Is that you? I'm you!"

Henry in Joey's body:"Is this real? Is it really happening?"

Joey:"I think it is. And I don't think we're the only ones. Maybe we should go somewhere more quiet."

Joey starts walking away, but as soon as Henry moves his body a sharp pain shoots from the back of his body.

Henry:"Ah fuck. Wait. There's something wrong. It feels like..."

Joey started smiling, realising.

Henry didn't find the pain that bad anymore and was slowly figuring out, what it was.

Henry:"Joey? Is that what I think it is?"

Joey:"I don't know what you're talking about"

Henry started laughing at his old face

Henry:"Hahahaha. No you didn't. Holy shit you're naughty, Joey. You really went to a press con with a dildo up your ass? Wow. I never thought that you'd be able to do this."

Joey:"Maybe we should go?"

Henry:"Oh fuck, we are. I really need to take a proper look at that thing stuck inside of me now "

Joey went first and couldn't stop smiling, as he heard Henry struggling to walk properly

But Henry was getting more and more into it. He never had a dildo up his ass. And this one was BIG.

They got into an empty hotel room nearby.

Joey went to the bathroom first to piss and left Henry outside. Henry started throwing his clothes off to the ground. But stopped, once he felt the thing in him move. He got on his knees and felt his own ass trying to push it in and out. An overwhelming feeling caused him to moan out loud and hold ok tightly to the bed sheets.

He heard the bathroom door open

Joey:"You wanna use the bathroom?"

Henry got up and without saying a word went to the bathroom while grabbing his old body's cheeks playfully on the way.

He wanted to look at himself in the mirror, but he needed the dildo to move. He needed to find a better position. But another unwanted movement caused him to collapse into the bath still in his clothes.

He just sat there leaning on the edges of the bath, moving his ass up and down in the air. Causing the dildo to move up and down. He was now covered in sweat. His body was begging to be fucked

Joey:"You need some help with that?" He pointed at his ass

Henry needed to be fucked. And there was a thing much better than the dildo in his ass

He leaned to the front and grabbed his old semi-hard bulge looking seductively into his old eyes

Henry:"Whip it out big boy. You got a hole to patch. And I need it"

Joey:"Are you sure you..."

Henry:"Fuck me right now!!!"

Joey threw off his pants and boxers. Leaving himself in Henry's Grey shirt only

Henry:"I want you to show me how you can be better than that dildo"

Joey:"I'm not really sure about this"

Henry:"Please just fuck me already. I can't take this anymore"

Joey helped Henry to take off his clothes. He turned him around to let him hold the edge of the bath. He then grabbed the base off the dildo and started moving it up and down rythmically. Henry was moaning in pleasure. No, he was screaming

As soon as Joey got hard, he pulled out the dildo and showed his new huge dick into his old ass. Henry couldn't even tell the difference. But now it was warmer, pulsating. And Joey was pounding him.

They were now one. Combined. Sweaty. Joey was deep inside of Henry moving his intestines.

Henry:"Ah ah ah ah. Fuck me... I need you"

Joey couldn't hold it anymore, he pulled out his new dick and shoot the load at his old back.

He was breathing rapidly from the fast tempo. Henry was still holding on. But Joey moved his head to the side and noticed his old dick leaking cum

Joey smiled. Yeah, fuck the betrayal. He's gonna be punishing him for that very often from now own.

Anonymous inbox request:

What about the great shift strikes. And everyone is swapped with the closest person at the moment. A story where henry cavill gets swapped with joey batey before some press con. And henry finds that joey's body has a dildo up his ass and he's so turned up that he begs joey to fuck him.

[hungermakesmonsters]

Love, Sick Love

Chapter Three

Plot summary : Working at one of the shadier bars in Brooklyn, you have one rule; don’t mess around with the patrons. Most of them are criminals, dangerous. None more so than Billy Russo, but Billy believes that rules are made to be broken. Especially your rule. One lapse in judgement is all it takes for Billy to decide that you’re his, and he’s never been the sort of man to take rejection well.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Stalker behaviour. Also spider/spider bite mentions. All chapters will deal with dark and smutty themes, including but not limited to stalking. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6.1k

A/N : Things start to get dark from this chapter onwards.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Master List

Chapter Three

You were aching when you woke, muscles stiff and skin left littered with the marks of his affections, and, true to his word, you could still feel him. Intimately. He’d left you feeling sore and used and, in the cold light of day, it was easy to regret it. 

As much as you’d enjoyed it, as much as you’d wanted it at the time, the morning after offered you a certain level of clarity and it was easy to see all the ways that it had been a mistake.

Beside you, he was sprawled out, deep in sleep and looking so relaxed and vulnerable that you couldn’t help but wonder when he’d last slept so soundly. Despite your regret, you didn’t want to wake him and ruin what seemed like the first truly peaceful moment that he’d had in ages.

In the morning light you could see that it wasn’t just his face that bore scars. His whole body was a tapestry of marks and imperfections (though to think of anything on him as imperfect  felt so wrong because, even marked as he was, he was still attractive). One scar in particular drew your attention. Across his shoulder, a thick pinky-white scar, faded with age but still very much noticeable. There was a pang of remorse in your stomach, daring to wonder if you’d hurt him when you’d grabbed his shoulder last night.

For a few sweet moments, you couldn’t help but lay there, watching him sleeping and thinking about how things could be if your circumstances were just a little different.

Your night together had been unexpected. Billy had given you something that you hadn’t even realised that you wanted or needed, and he’d shown you what it felt like to have someone want you so much that they lost all composure and control. It was thrilling and alluring. And terrifying.

But, you could tell that he was trouble - or that he was in trouble - and you couldn’t get caught up in anyone else’s shit. You couldn't risk letting a man like Billy get close to you, no matter how he'd made you feel.

Still, there was something about him, something that made you wonder what-if.

It would have been so easy to curl up beside him, to let your hands wander over his body until he woke up and gave you a repeat performance of last night. Your thighs clenched at the thought and, despite how thoroughly you'd been fucked only hours before, you felt that familiar heat spark to life inside you.

Looking down, you realised that the sheet around his waist was tented and without thought, you reached down to slowly uncover him. You moved with all the skill and caution of a cat burglar, peeling back the sheet to reveal -

Fuck.

He hadn't given you the chance to appreciate it last night; long and thick, with the slightest curve. You bit your lip staring down at his cock, now understanding why you ached. It was inch after inch of perfection - though that thought alone left you feeling completely ridiculous. The heat inside you burned hotter, a desperate feeling of arousal taking hold. 

Suddenly you reached a decision; fucking him just one more time wouldn't change anything. You'd wake him with your lips - you weren't usually a fan of blowjobs but the sight of his cock and the way that the tip had started to leak had your mouth watering. You’d wake him up, rile him up, then lay back and let him take control. 

You hated how right Jenna had turned out to be, but you hated even more just how eager you felt for more. Dick-matised. That’s what you were, even if you knew it could only last while he was still there in your bed.

Cautiously, you moved, reaching down towards him, ready to take him in your hand, then your mouth. But before your fingers could reach him, Billy took a gasped breath and his whole body tensed. You pulled away, getting out of bed and taking a step back, cheeks heating, feeling like you’d just been caught doing something wrong. Whatever spell you’d been under was well and truly broken as you looked at him, realising that he was still sleeping, that he hadn’t caught you out.

He rolled onto his side and let out a pained sound, his breathing laboured. 

A nightmare.

He was having a nightmare.

You took another step back, and were quickly brought back to the extremely messy reality of your situation when you stood on the condom he’d dumped on the floor the night before. 

All you could think was how he wouldn’t want you to see him like that, and how seeing him in that position changed things, messed them up even more. It gave you the certainty that you’d been searching for only minutes before; this had all been a mistake. You couldn’t deal with whatever this was anymore than you couldn’t deal with whatever trouble he was bound to cause in your life.

Instead of doing the decent thing and waking him up, you turned and quickly left the bedroom, pausing only to grab your robe from the back of the door, leaving him to his nightmare and letting him preserve his dignity. In the kitchen you filled the coffee pot and fished a couple of mugs from the cupboard, trying to ignore the sounds of gasps and thrashing in the next room.

By the time the pot had brewed and you had two steaming mugs of coffee, the noises had stopped. And, when you returned to the bedroom, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He didn’t notice you moving across the room until you placed a mug on the nightstand for him. Then, when his wide eyes met yours, you caught a flicker of something new; uncertainty.

Billy didn’t say anything and the way he stared quickly made you feel uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know how you took it, so -”

“Black’s fine,” he answered, a noticeable tremor in his voice.

Whatever he’d been dreaming about, it had taken an obvious toll on him, but as bad as you felt for the poor guy, you decided not to mention it.

“I didn’t hear you get up,” he said, shifting a little, glancing around the room like he was worried that some element of his nightmare might be lurking in the dark corners, laying in wait for him.

“I don’t need a lot of sleep,” you shrugged.

Before you could stop him, Billy reached for you, his arm winding around your waist, pulling you towards him. You moved closer without resisting, letting him rest his head on your chest. Without thinking, you started to stroke the back of his head, idly wondering to yourself what he might look like if he let his hair grow out a little. But, then, when you felt scars beneath his hair, you wondered if maybe his hair had been buzzed so he could be treated.

Minutes ticked by and you knew it was wrong to indulge him, to give him any sense that this was anything more than what it had been; a one night stand that you had no intention of repeating. Still, you didn’t move, sensing that he needed a little moment, some slight comfort in order to recover from whatever he’d just been through.

But, when you felt his arm tighten and his fingers pressing into your hip through your robe, you finally took a step back.

“You should drink that before it gets cold,” you nodded at his coffee before lifting your mug to your lips. “I need to grab a shower and get some things done before my shift tonight, are you okay seeing yourself out?”

For a moment you held your breath, eyes fixed on him, trying desperately to conceal the sudden nervousness twisting in your stomach at not knowing how he was going to react. After speaking, you thought that you caught a flash of discomfort and annoyance on his face, but his lips quickly forced a smile.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to get your back?” He asked as he reached for his mug.

“I think you got enough last night,” you retorted, hoping that you could both just laugh and joke about it, rather than it becoming a serious conversation.

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“I wasn’t. But that was last night and today is a brand new day.”

“Sounds like something off one of those inspirational posters,” he said, letting out a huff of laughter.

“It is,” you answered, managing to hold back a laugh of your own. “I was thinking about getting one but I couldn’t decide between that one and the ‘I hate mondays’ one.”

The smile on Billy’s lips turned softer, taking on a more wistful quality as he lifted his mug and took another slow drink.

“I, uh - I used to have one those - y’know the one with the kitten on the branch? Said ‘hang in there’.” He took another drink, almost like the thought of it now left a bad taste in his mouth. “Think I got it for Christmas one year at the group home...”

“You were in foster care?” You asked, momentarily forgetting that you were supposed to be getting rid of him and drawing a line under what you’d allowed to happen the night before.

His smile instantly became more guarded, no longer reaching his eyes. Then came an empty sort of laugh. “You look surprised.”

Immediately you felt bad and schooled your expression into something a little more neutral. 

“It’s not that,” you started and stopped abruptly, taking a second to decide what you wanted to say, what you were willing to share. “I mean, I guess I’m a little surprised but it’s not like - I’m not judging you. I spent time in the system too.”

His eyebrows rose almost immediately. 

“Now who looks surprised?” You joked, lifting your mug and taking a slow sip.

“You were in the system?”

You shrugged, holding the mug at your lips and continuing to drink just to postpone answering the question for a few seconds.

“A few times, on and off. My mom didn’t exactly have her shit together, and she didn’t always have the best taste in men...” you explained before taking one last drink and draining your mug, putting an end to whatever this was. “Look, I don’t want to be a bitch, but I really do have things to get done today...”

“Okay, kitten,” he relented far more easily than you expected. Lifting his mug, he drained the last of his coffee and got to his feet, seeming indifferent to the fact that he was still completely naked. “I just need to use the bathroom, then I’ll get outta your way.”

He didn’t wait for an answer or directions, he strode across the room and slipped into your bathroom, seeming to instinctively know that the door on the left was a closet and not the door he needed unlike most of the men who found themselves stumbling around your apartment the morning after. 

You watched him go, noticing the scratch marks that you’d left across his back and the indentations on his ass cheeks from where you’d gripped him too tight. It was impossible to tell if he was deliberately trying to make you regret kicking him out, but it certainly felt that way. Billy didn’t even bother closing the bathroom door, giving you a full view of him as he peed, though you quickly turned your attention to taking the empty mugs to the kitchen, getting out of his way so he could get dressed.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he offered, emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed.

You scooped his jacket off the floor where he’d abandoned it the night before and offered it to him. “Guess I’ll see you around?”

“Count on it, kitten,” he said, pulling on his jacket, “and don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

He didn’t give you a chance to ask what he meant before leaving and you didn’t linger on the thought. Ultimately, you were just glad that he’d left without a fuss and hadn’t tried to talk you into anything else.

You waited a beat after the door had closed behind him before locking it and sliding the bolt into place.

Your first stop was the shower, scrubbing your hair and skin clean, before relaxing beneath the hot water. Closing your eyes, you found yourself remembering everything that had happened between you and Billy, and how it had made you feel. Even after your hot shower, you still ached in that wonderful way. 

And, despite what you’d told Billy, once you were clean, you returned to bed, curling up and drifting off to thoughts of him. You slept off the night before like it was a hangover you were suffering from and not a state of confusion that you just couldn’t shake.

Though that confusion was tainted with a vague hint of irritation when you realised just how many visible marks Billy had left on you. It meant having to wear jeans and a blouse for work, which would inevitably lead to fewer tips.

When you arrived at the bar, you were surprised to find Sam working, shooting the shit with Jake and Billy. He was telling them some bullshit story as you walked past to throw your jacket in the back - because that was what Sam liked to do, he liked to bullshit. You’d gotten used to it pretty quickly. In fact, you were sure you’d heard the story he was telling before, about how he’d almost been caught screwing some Russian mobsters wife and he’d had to climb out the window, and she was apparently so distraught at him leaving, she tried to follow after, chasing him down the street stark naked.

He was the kind of guy who thought he was god’s gift to women when, really, he was just average with a personality that was only bearable in small doses. But he was mostly harmless. 

Mostly.

“Got your wages over there,” he said, giving a vague gesture to the back of the bar. “Still dunno why you insist on cash, thought you were all into paying for things on your phone these days.”

“My landlord’s a dick and only takes cash,” you answered, shrugging and stepping behind the bar, only allowing yourself a momentary glance towards Jake and Billy.

“Hear you had some trouble here last night,” Sam continued.

That made you look at Billy. It made you glare.

“No, it was fine. Just some drunk that’d been kicked out of The Styx,” you explained, still glaring at Billy, pissed that he’d made you look unable to do your job to your boss.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t wanna have to waste money on security just ‘cause you girls can't handle yourselves,” Sam said.

You didn’t answer, instead you turned away and headed for the brown envelope containing your wages, which was sitting on the back of the bar, beneath an upturned glass.

Once you realised what was in the glass, there was nothing that could have stopped the terrified noise that escaped you. You stumbled backwards, hitting the bar and wincing in pain. But the pain barely registered over the ringing in your ears and the feeling of panic clutching at your chest. You struggled to draw breath and found yourself unable to tear your eyes from the glass and the spider within.

Thick black legs knocked at the glass, trying to get out, trying to get to you.

A few seconds passed but the sound of laughter pulled you back to the moment.

“See? Told ya,” Sam was grinning, obviously impressed by his little prank. His attention turned from the men at the bar to you. “The look on your face... fuckin’ priceless.”

Your hand clenched to a fist at your side and you were about to ruin your life and swing for him but, before you could, the door opened and in walked Jenna.

“‘bout time you showed up,” Sam said. “You just missed all the fun.”

Unclenching your fist, you barged past Sam, muttering something about the empties and the back alley, knowing that he’d disappear soon enough.

You made your way outside, bracing yourself against the brickwork and closing your eyes, trying to get the thought of the spider out of your head. Forcing slow, deep breaths, you slowly overcame your panic but it was almost all completely undone when you suddenly felt a hand on your back.

Turning, you found Billy standing there, and that just made everything worse.

“Have a good laugh?” You asked sharply.

“Look, I - I didn’t know that was how you were gonna react,” he said, as if that excused anything. “If I’d known I -”

“What, Billy? Huh? What would you’ve done?” You asked, though it was very clear that you didn’t want or need an answer. “Make me look worse in front of everyone in there? Make it look like I can’t handle it? Like I need protecting?”

The sudden outburst caught him off guard and he took a step back, but his retreat was only tactical. “You think you don’t need protecting?”

“Who’s gonna protect me, Billy? You?” You almost laughed at the thought.

“You’re damned right I will.”

“I don’t want your protection. I don’t need it.”

You tried to step past him, only to find his hand on your wrist, pulling you back to face him. Billy didn’t say anything, it was like he was struggling to find the words, like he didn’t trust himself not to say something that would make all of this worse. His jaw clenched and his eyes stayed fixed on yours, gaze unwavering, unblinking.

Pulling, you tried to free yourself from his grip, but Billy held on.

“Let me go,” you told him.

The demand seemed to shake something loose in Billy, and he released you, awkwardly shaking his head, like he was trying to clear whatever thought he’d just been caught up in.

Not willing to wait to see what he might say or do next, you headed back inside. You could tell he was following only a step behind, but he remained silent, letting you walk away from him.

“Jake just told me what happened,” Jenna started before you could even take a breath.

Why was everything suddenly going wrong? It was as if you’d had too much of a good thing last night, and all of this bullshit was the universe trying to course-correct.

“It was just Sam being an asshole,” you shrugged, though your eyes immediately moved to the back of the bar to make sure the spider was gone. Thankfully, it was (the one good thing to happen to you today).

“I’m not talking about Sam, I’m talking about last night.”

There was no holding back the sigh or the way your head dropped. All you wanted to do was grab your things and head home. You wanted to go to bed and start all over again tomorrow, with no Billy, no Sam being an asshole, and no Jenna looking at you like she thought you couldn’t handle yourself.

“It’s a good thing I asked Billy and Jake to keep an eye on things, they -”

“What?” You asked, brought back to the moment by that new piece of information. “You asked a couple of drunks to babysit me?”

There was a grumble from Jake at the bar, but he seemed to know better than to inject himself into a conversation that was quickly becoming an argument. Billy, on the other hand, remained completely silent, watching it all play out.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Jenna answered, “you get attacked but I’m the bad guy for making sure that there was someone around to help?”

“Right, because I’m so fucking useless that I can’t even take care of myself?” You snapped back.

Realistically, you knew that she was right and that, without Billy’s intervention, things could have gone a lot worse than they did. And, honestly, you weren’t even sure why you were so upset about it - because she hadn’t told you? Because Billy hadn’t thought to mention it? Or, maybe it was because you hadn’t even thought to ask him why he was still there. But it made what he’d said to you outside seem a hundred times worse.

They all thought you were weak. That you were some helpless little thing.

Of course, it would blow over; arguments with Jenna always did. You weren’t sure what it was, but you could never stay mad at her. Still, for the next few hours, you kept to yourself, clearing glasses, serving anyone that wasn’t Billy. And it was more than obvious to everyone around that you were ignoring him, ignoring the way his eyes followed you around as you worked.

But Jake - he found himself stuck in the middle, receiving all of your usual charm and attention just to prove a petty point to Billy. He was a customer, just like Jake, nothing more. 

“What is it about you and spiders, anyways?” Jake dared to ask after he’d had enough to drink to loosen his tongue.

Tension ran up your spine and it took a second before you could think of an answer.

“Friend of mine died from a Black Widow bite when I was a kid,” you said, refilling his glass.

“Shit,” he offered sympathetically, blowing out his cheeks. 

“It was my fault,” you continued, “we’d been playing by an old log pile and I dropped this stupid ring that I used to wear. It disturbed a nest and a couple of these big spiders came crawling out, so we ran. But Thomas - he went back later to find my ring and got bitten. Poor kid had a real bad allergic reaction, he didn’t stand a chance...”

“Shit,” he muttered again, his head shaking, eyes dropping, ashamed. “Look, I’m sorry ‘bout earlier - laughing at you. If I’d known...”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you told him.

From the corner of your eye you could see Billy staring, and you knew he’d heard the whole tale, and when you finally dared to look at him you caught an unreadable expression on his face. He didn’t say anything. You didn’t give him the chance to.

By the end of the night, the rest of Jake’s friends had turned up and the whole group had vanished about twenty minutes before closing. 

And, as you and Jenna locked up for the night, it was more than enough time to settle your differences. You explained to her that you’d snapped because of Sam’s prank and because you didn’t like being made to feel useless. Jenna listened and nodded along before telling you that she’d only asked Jake and Billy to keep an eye on things because didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

In the end you hugged it out and Jenna invited you back to her place to eat leftovers that her mom had made and - well, you’d never been able to say no to Jenna’s moms cooking.

You decided against telling her about Billy or what had happened after he’d ‘saved’ you and, instead the two of you spent the night drinking wine and watching crappy reality shows until you finally crashed on her sofa.

The next morning you briefly headed home to shower and change before heading into the city, a little day off ritual you’d developed over the last year. 

The subway was packed and you quickly put on your headphones, drowning out all the noises and people around you. You didn’t look up until you felt a prickling sensation on the back of your neck, like someone was watching you. You looked around, silently telling yourself that you were being paranoid, but, as you looked forward again, you saw him.

Your heart skipped a beat, breath catching, but by the time you looked again, he was gone. It was just your imagination - though why you were imagining Billy following you, was something you really didn’t want to think about. But, once the thought was in your head, it was hard to shake and, for the rest of the day, you found yourself looking over your shoulder.

Every time you caught a glimpse of short dark hair, or a jacket like his, you found yourself wondering if it was him.

You even approached one guy as you left your favourite coffee shop in the village, about to throw your steaming hot latte in his face when you realised that it wasn’t Billy when he turned and looked your way. 

Feeling ridiculous, you decided that you were going to put him out of your mind. You weren’t going to think about him any more, you were just going to think of him as a one night stand whose name you couldn’t remember. Outside of the bar, Billy no longer existed.

By the time you got back to your apartment, you were exhausted and most of your pay was already gone, except a little kept aside for bills and food. You’d replaced the clothes that Billy had destroyed, buying yourself a pleated plaid skirt that you were sure would earn you more than a few extra tips.

But even in the safety of your apartment, something felt off.

You couldn’t put your finger on it and, again, you felt ridiculous. 

The draw on your nightstand was slightly open and, for the life of you, you couldn’t remember if it had been closed or not. It bothered you far more than it should - you had a habit of leaving drawers and cupboards open when you were in a rush, and you didn’t think Billy had bothered to shut it after he’d taken out a condom when he’d been with you.

That was probably it. 

What other reason could there be for that drawer being open? It wasn’t like anyone was going to break in to steal a condom or the dildo you kept in there. Pushing the drawer shut, you collapsed onto the bed, deciding that you’d have an early night, that all your paranoia was due to two late nights of drinking.

And, it helped. You felt a lot better the next morning, rested, calmer. Which was a good thing because it was finally Friday, and that meant that the bar was going to be slammed. So, you decided to wear your new skirt and spent way longer than usual on your make-up and hair, needing to up on the tips you’d missed out on the other night because of your bad mood.

An audible sigh of relief left you when you reached Sam’s and you realised that Billy didn’t seem to be there. As you walked through the bar, you let your gaze wander, checking the tables at the back, looking for any sign of him.

“Lover boy’s not here,” Jenna told you. “Wasn’t here last night either. I think you must’ve upset him the other night.”

“Oh well,” you said, grinning, “guess we’ll have to go back to making tips the old fashioned way.”

Shrugging off your coat, you strut past her into the back, letting her see your new clothes. 

Jenna laughed at your little display and called after you; “good thing Paul’s helping out tonight, with you dressed like that we might need to hose some of the regulars down.”

You laughed at the thought, but you were glad to know that you and Jenna would have help. Paul was an old friend of Sam’s, semi-retired, but he liked to come in and help out whenever he needed some extra cash. And, fortunately for you and Jenna, everyone knew not to fuck around with Paul. 

Rumour had it that he used to run with some biker gang, though others would say he was an ex-hit man for the mafia. It was all bullshit, but Paul liked to indulge it so no one tried to mess with him.

It got busy fast, Jenna cranked up the music and you both got to work. It felt good, it was fun. People were drinking and the tips were coming your way. Everything was going great.

And then you saw him at the bar. 

You hadn’t noticed them slip in, the whole crew, all looking amped up already. It made you wonder where they’d been and what they’d been doing, but you didn’t want to ask.

Taking a breath, you forced yourself to move towards Billy. You were going to do your job and try to put everything else behind you.

“The usual?” You said, not quite able to force a happy and bubbly tone.

“So you’re talking to me tonight?”

“Do you want a drink or not, Billy?” 

“Whiskey.”

As you moved to grab the bottle, you felt his eyes on you, something that he didn’t bother to try and hide when you turned back towards him.

“New outfit?” He asked, eyes drinking in the sight of you.

The way he was looking at you made your cheeks warm and, even though it was the last thing you wanted to think about, suddenly all you could think about was the memory of his head between your thighs and the way his greedy tongue had felt against you.

“Yeah, my favourite skirt got ruined, so I needed a new one,” you told him, pouring his drink.

“You should be careful,” he warned, “I have a feeling that one’s gonna end up getting ruined too...”

“I doubt it,” you retorted flatly, somehow resisting the urge to press your thighs together.

Turning and walking away, you spent the rest of the night so run off your feet that you didn’t even have to try to avoid him, it just seemed to work out that whenever he approached the bar Jenna or Paul served him. It was so busy that you didn’t even have time to think about him or the way you could feel his gaze on you. 

When things started to die down, Paul left you and Jenna to finish up, but there were still plenty of people drinking, so Jenna left the music blaring and the pair of you kept working for your tips.

Soon, it was quiet enough for you to head into the cellar to grab some fresh bottles. It was a relief to be away from the noise upstairs and you decided to take your time, knowing Jenna could handle things fine on her own.

“I’ve gotta be honest, I’m starting to take this whole playing hard to get thing personally, kitten.”

His voice suddenly sounded through the darkness was enough to startle you, shock almost causing you to trip over your own feet as you turned to face him.

“You can’t be down here, Billy,” you warned, not wanting to get pulled into his games.

“Can’t I?” The smirk on his lip tinged his words with a dark sort of amusement that sent a shiver down your spine.

“No, you can’t,” you said, “so...”

You let it hang in the air, hoping that he’d take the hint and that he wouldn’t make things any weirder than they already were, but Billy didn’t move.

“So you are playing hard to get,” he said, taking a step towards you. “Lucky for you, I like games.”

“I’m not playing games,” you answered back, holding your ground despite every fibre of your being telling you that you should move, leave. “You need to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere without what’s mine,” he told you, taking another step, then another.

“There’s nothing of yours down here.”

“We both know that’s not true,” he stopped in front of you, his fingers ghosting over your cheek causing you to recoil and finally take a step back, only to find the kegs at your back.

If he cared about your discomfort, he didn’t let it show. He stepped closer, reaching for you again. Part of you knew that you could scream, but you knew no one would hear you over the music and the noise of the bar. And, besides, it wasn’t like Jenna would be able to do anything, any more than you could.

“So the other night was just an act then?” You asked. Billy looked confused, so you continued. “You beat the shit out of that guy for putting his hands on me, but you’re doing the same thing right now.”

“It’s not the same,” the playfulness dropping from his voice, replaced by something far darker. “I’d never hurt you.”

You bristled as his hand cupped your cheek and his thumb ran over your lips. You glared, pulling away from his touch once more, defiant despite the knot of fear that was tightening in your stomach. Unperturbed by your resistance, he reached for you again, this time grabbing your chin and unceremoniously pressing his lips to yours. 

A shocked gasp escaped you, parting your lips and allowing his tongue entrance. For a moment, you were frozen, letting him take what he wanted. As he kissed you, he pressed closer, pinning you against the kegs, a telltale bulge pressing against your stomach through his jeans.

It took a few seconds to overcome the shock and push him away, swinging your hand and revelling in the satisfying crack of your palm striking his cheek. You managed to create some space, but not enough and not for long. He grabbed you by the wrist and pushed you back again.

“I like it when you’re feisty, kitten,” he said, that playful tone in his voice again, like this was all just a game to him.

“I’m not scared of you,” you spat, trying to pull away from him.

“Where are you tryin’ to go, kitten? I’m not done with you yet.”

“What do you want, Billy?” Your voice threatening to break.

“I told you. I want what’s mine.”

“I’m not yours,” you answered back, trying to shove him again, but this time he didn’t budge an inch.

“Deny it all you want,” he replied, while the fingers of his free hand ghosted over your cheek. “I saw how much you wanted me the other night, how much you needed me. You’re gonna realise real soon that you don’t have a choice.”

Your blood ran cold at the implication in his words, body tensing. Again you thought about screaming but - well, what if you screamed and no one came? Your heart ached at the prospect.

“What are you gonna do?” You finally dared to ask, hating that your voice came out so small and afraid.

“Nothing.”

The word didn’t register. It didn’t make sense. There had to be something he wanted, some reason he was doing this.

“I’m not gonna force myself on you,” he continued, his fingers still tenderly brushing against your cheek. “I’d never do that. I don’t have to. Eventually, you’re gonna realise that you want to be mine.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“It will. I’ll make sure of it,” he told you. “If I have to, I’ll take away everything you have until I’m all that’s left, until you’re begging to be mine.”

“I’ll never beg for you,” you answered back.

“You already have,” he said, barely holding back a laugh.

He was right. You hated how right he was. You’d begged for him that night in your bed, over and over again. You’d begged and pleaded as he’d made you feel things you’d never felt before. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down your spine and stoked that shameful heat between your thighs.

(What was wrong with you that this was turning you on?)

“I’m a patient man, but I’m not gonna wait forever,” he told you, leaning close, lips brushing your ear. “One way or another, you’re gonna be mine, kitten.”

Before you could answer, he was kissing you again, groaning against your lips, fingertips pressed into your cheek. Then he pulled away and turned, leaving you there, uncertain at what the fuck had just happened and how you felt about it. 

But, for a second, at the bottom of the stairs, he hesitated and spoke; “it was bees.”

“What?”  You asked in a confused whisper.

“The story you told Jake, about spiders - you got that from a dumb kids movie, but it was bees not spiders that killed the kid.”

You didn’t say anything.

What could you even say, knowing that he’d caught you in a lie? But Billy didn’t seem to expect anything from you. You watched him disappear up the stairs, leaving you completely alone and, by the time you returned to the bar, Jenna was locking up behind the last customer and Billy was nowhere to be seen.

End Note : For anyone old enough to get the My Girl reference, I'm sorry. I recently remembered how traumatic that was for a kids movie and decided if I had to suffer, everyone else did too 😂 (Also the thought of little Billy Russo sitting and watching My Girl is hilarious for some reason???) From this point on the story will be taking a much darker turn (I know I keep warning about that, but this is really the last time I'm going to explicitly mention it). ALSO I managed to break a key off my laptop keyboard and am having to use a crappy bluetooth keyboard that can be kind of laggy. I think I've caught most of the random typos that slipped through, but if I haven't I'm sorry. I might have to buy a whole replacement laptop keyboard which is money I don't want to spend right now (honestly fuck Dell so much) so just as a warning going forward there might be some dumb typos slipping through.

As always your comments/likes/reblogs/asks/general screaming is always cherished and appreciated. I hope you all have an amazing weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt (and on AO3 at some point in the hours after).

Tag List : @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @sweetserendipity65 @dreadfulxives18 @snowkestrel @ladyblacky

@readingabouthim @cheshirecat484 @broadwaybabe18 @oliviaewl @lincerad

@benbarnesprettygurl @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @whereismymindnow @danzer8705

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Full-Cast Audiobook Imaginations

So with the sequel on the horizon, we’re not that far from a full-cast re-recording of the audiobook, right?

I listen to the audiobook more than I read the book, mostly because I can listen to it while doing other stuff, and no offence to the original narrator, but while it’s good, it’s not the best. I kind of cringe at his British accent for Henry.

So I have a lot of thoughts.

The thing is with an audiobook, we can get both the wonderful vocal performance of the movie cast, and the iconic book lines, the ones that didn’t, and frankly, could never have made it into the movie due to format restrictions:

Sexy explicit sex scenes

Sexy explicit sex lines “For fuck’s sake, man, you just had my dick in your mouth, you can kiss me good-night”, “I want you to fuck me”, “I’ve been thinking about your mouth on me all well”

Emails in their entirety

Email openings and endings “Huge Raging Heache Prince Henry of Who Cares”, “First Son of Shirking Responsibilities”, “Horrible Revolting Heir”, “First Son of Founding Father Sacrilege”, “Haplessly Romantic Heretic Prince Henry the Utterly Daft”

Email historical quotes “The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you”, “I meet you in every dream”

Swearing and explicit language “fucking shit” “I fucking love you, okay?”

Internal Struggle

Iconic lines that didn’t make it into the movie for adaptation and story purposes “I’m never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you” “I love him on purpose”, “America, he is my choice”

Like, imagine hearing all of this in Taylor, in Nick, in Sarah and Uma and Ellie and Rachel and Thomas and Aneesh and Cfiton etc etc 's voice. Just imagine it!!!

Another thing to add is that to put it in simple terms, the current version of the audiobook does the dialogue lines closer to theatre acting: more enunciated, more inflection, and slower. Which is fine in its own right (I’m a theatre kid). But with the cast audiobook, hopefully, we can get them to do something closer to film acting, i.e. closer to reality, reading the lines as they would if they were to shoot those scenes.

Which is gonna make big moments like sexy times and confrontations a lot of fun :D

And something really entertaining to think about is now that we also know the cast and their dynamic is thinking about how much fun they would have while recording the book, especially when they have scenes together. And it’s not necessarily just Taynick, it’s group scenes with the whole Super Six, like the karaoke scene in chapter seven, or the Texas Holiday Scenes with Firstprince and Junora.

Like, Imagine it, the actors in the same recording studio, maybe even on the same couch:

Taylor and Nick laughing while reading off the insults from the earlier frienemies days of their relationship

Taylor and Nick squirming and playfully hitting each other when recording lines for sexy scenes like the first night, or the tack room, or Wimbledon

The cast shouting and booing (playfully) whenever someone messes up a line in their group scenes

The chaotic fun that is the LA karaoke scene, everybody’s laughing, Ellie gets to be the singular sober person while everyone else acts drunk, Nick singing Don’t Stop Me Now shittier (Nick has the voice of an angel but book Henry can’t sing for shit),

Taylor and Nick giving each other hugs after screaming at each other for the Kensington confrontation

Nick grinning smugly at every book height difference mention (:<

More of Taylor speaking Spanish!!!

Thomas gets to be a proper asshole villain who later turns into awkward older brother who's trying

Ellie gets to do the pie metaphor grief monologue  

Taylor gets to do another speech (he’s really good at delivering speeches)

 I want to quickly reiterate that I am in no way unhappy with what we got in the end for the movie; I love it to pieces. However, as Matthew and Casey said, there are two “canonical” versions of the story now, and since audiobooks are an option, it would be really nice to connect this aspect of the movie verse with the book verse in some sort of middle ground.

So yeah Audible? Amazon? Get on with it!!!

@almightaylor this was the long post I mentioned, I literally started this in July lol

[monstersflashlight]

I wanna know what books are your favorite!

Hi anon! I'm so glad you asked... *evil laugh* I'm a big BIG reader, I read a ton of books a year, and I'm basically reading 24/7 (bc I read for work and then in my free time I read some more), I'm obsessed with romance (autistic special interest) and I've been actively reading monsterfuckery for years, so surprisingly for nobody, my fav choices are all monsterfucker related. I've choosen five out of a ton, so be aware of that.

Monstruos series by Lily Mayne: My absolute fav series of all times, I love this so much I'm gonna get a bunch of tattoos with all the monsters. Is a dystopian world where the veil between the monster and human world dropped an human civilization kinda disappeared. It's all M/M books and I'm utterly obsessed. It's really painful at points, so be aware, but I recommend it if you like monster stories. My fav one is book six: Seraph. (If any of you has read it and wants to talk about it please do message me).

Deep earth dating by Lily Mayne: follows a very interesting new species of monsters who used to live underground and surfaced, now they live between humans and they are fucking fenomenal. Love, love, LOVE it. A lot more cozy.

(Not gonna mention the other books of Lily Mayne but def read them all because she's fantastic and all she writes is worth mentioning in this list)

Black dagger brotherhood by J.R. Ward: secret society meets mafia meets soulmates meets a long as fuck series with tons of trauma and sketchy moments. It's a great series but I have to say I stopped on book 15 or so, and it's on book 25 or something. Not because I didn't like it, but because life happened and never have the time to go back and catch up. My fav book is Lover at least (gay story with very very painful development). It's a great series, and has my favorite fanfic of all times (which is a 1200 pages of gay angst with happy ending).

The invisible life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab: this is the only book I would recommend literally anyone. This book is so wonderful it made me cry multiple times and it's a wonderful exploration of human nature and desires. Great, great book. (So good I have it in spanish and english).

Prime Mating Agency by Regine Abel: dude if you haven't read this yet, go ahead because it's the perfect mix between social problems and romance in an intergalactic setting with a bunch of different monsters.

Black bear clan by Zoe Ashwood: orcs, size difference and fated mates. Nothing else to say, you should pick it up because is marvelous.

And I have a ton of other recs but don't want to make this post longer than already is. Would be super happy to give you recs on any monster or special settings, as I said, I read a whole lot (and have a wonderful excel with everything writen down bc autism).

[maryfailstowrite]

!! DRDT CH2 EP14 SPOILERS !!

Okay so, I think there are two possible routes the storyline could take regarding Teruko, and as much as I wish one of them was true, I have a bad feeling it’s going to be the other.

1. Eden is actually the culprit and Teruko shatters. We know Teruko actually cared (even if just a bit) about Eden even before the trial, so if she’s actually the culprit, it wouldn’t just be a “oh fuck I was wrong, I shouldn’t have repaid the favor” moment, it’s going to be a “oh fuck, one of the few people I decided to take a bet on backstabbed me AGAIN” moment. Not only her, but Eden killing Arei would mean Eden never intended to be friends with her, so that’s another trust betrayal for Teruko to overthink. Plus, if Eden is the culprit, it means all her tears and her sweet persona were fake, at the very least in the trial, if not for the whole killing game. The realization of that would devastate Teruko, and she’d regress to distrusting everyone even harder. We’d have to go through this whole process of learning how to trust people again, in an environment that is going to become more hostile, because Eden being the culprit would be a slap in the face to everyone, I feel. She’s the beacon of optimism in the group, and the one actively trying to keep people together and entertained, and knowing how much everyone else hates each other, it would be rough to get along with anyone like that. Disaster, basically. A heartbreaking disaster.

Oh, and also, David would be getting what he wants, which is to debilitate Teruko. A lose-lose situation no matter how you see it.

2. Someone else is the culprit and Teruko comes out of this stronger. She realizes that trusting people can actually lead her the right way, and so Teruko finishes her process of learning how to trust people again. She not only acknowledges that she can’t isolate herself from everyone without consequences, she learns that trusting people can lead to good things too, and that not everyone around her is out to get her. Also, Eden is still alive, so not only can her bond with Teruko grow stronger, but she’s still there to keep the group from pouncing at each other at any given time. Of course, there’d still be conflicts and shit (more murders need to happen, after all), but for a while, we could get a more trusting Teruko and a group (or at least a few people) that support her through dealing with everything that’s on her way.

And David wouldn’t get what he wants, which would just be really satisfying (can you tell I don’t like David from this post? Can you?)

Problem here is, as we all know, Teruko’s luck is shit. The world might as well be out to get her. I’m not sure if I would like to go through another chapter of Teruko not interacting with anyone (since she’s our POV, we wouldn’t get much insight on how Eden’s loss breaks the overall group), but the story could be leading to that. The parallels between Min and Eden are paralleling too strong on this one fam. She’s the one that has some connection with Arei and the case, and Ace really doesn’t have much to do with anything. He was bleeding out, and even if we assume he took the tape like that, was he really in a good enough condition to do all that took to kill Arei not so long after he got his throat slit? He’s powered by pure spite and we know it, sure, but I think it’s a bit too far of a stretch.

And the chapter’s theme “not all that glitters” would fit Eden being the culprit, whereas I don’t really think that’d be the case with Ace. Of course, one could argue that the theme was already there with J, Arei and David, so it’s not like you’d need the culprit to fit it too, but it would make the chapter more cohesive, I think. Setting up such a strong chapter theme, using various character’s arcs for it, and then have the culprit not be related to that theme in any way shape or form would be a bit weird, or at least that’s how I see it.

The culprit could be someone else, of course, and that said person could fit the theme… but it’s already episode fourteen. Are we really going back to “everyone could be a suspect” at this point of the trial? It feels like it’s too advanced to put in another plot twist that leaves us at square one again. These two might actually be the only two suspects, and I’m not having any fun with it 😭.

We might get a “Eden was not as sweet and nice as we thought” moment and I’m not here for it. If that’s actually what happens, tears are going to be shred. With all due respect to Ace fans, let him be the culprit PLEAAAAASE (he probably won’t be. I’m just in denial. Let me grieve).

[thewalrusespublicist]

Two of Us Play: Thoughts or 'This Could Mean Nothing: The Play'

I saw Two of Us and I have thoughts. and feelings. Frustrated feelings.

What I liked: the mental health angle, the details, the research, the bones of the story and the acting for the most part (good actors, poor direction basically).

What I didn't like: First off the script needs work. At the minute it plays more as a spot the reference rather than one coherent story. This doesen't feel like convo between friends but a recap of Beatles lore with no train of thought that gets satisfyingly resolved and whilst hitting off the movie beats rather than building to them. The pay off feels less like a cathartic journey and more 'cool it's Mclennon I guess..'. Next the chemistry is off, the two leads don't feel like platonic soulmates/best frenemies and they don't fly off of each other as John and Paul did. Instead the energy is super low, even in their heightened fight scenes it doesn't feel like two people duking it out. There's no screaming and shouting, it's like two old but never that close friends going from awkward to semi awkward and back again repeatedly without ever hitting any moments of sizzling connection. This I think is partially to do with the 'nice Paul' characterization, which please lord can it end! Let our beloved alpha bitch be beloved and alpha bitchy, it's good for his skin AND MORE REAL.

I think the chemistry/energy problem is linked though to the main problem and the elephant in the room: the 'latent' homosexuality. Latent is probably the best word for it, but that's only because of the play's fear of its own implications. To be clear, with a slightly more daring director unafraid of the material, the latent would be BLATANT. The dialogue is BLATANT. John's wordplay is loaded with suggestion: 'best fuck you've ever had', 'you should have married me' and there's a closeness when they are singing on the piano which was 👀👀. The 'I love Paul' badge is also there with a 'lucky Paul' comment that COULD have built to a potentially interesting character moment. But they just fly over these bits like they haven't been said. The candlelight dinner as well that John puts on for Paul is by its nature loaded, as is John offhandedly calling him 'my love' when fiddling with the stereo during that scene.It's so casual that it feels like an accidental slip on John's part. But nothing is made of this, no pause, shift in the air, comments, nothing. This was the worst with the KISS which was initiated by John and yes, way way way too long for it to mean nothing and the Epstein jokes are completely omitted. Its a wild moment, but the play can't seem to handle what they've just laid down so just ... skates past it. Its like HAHA WEIRD RIGHT THEY JUST KISSED ANYWAY ROOF SCENE.

But the implications also aren't consistent as the whole thing is too attached to the 'Paul is a jilted victim' angle. It's Paul who is jealous of Yoko, but save a line about being surprised about Linda, John seems neutral (weird considering its JOHN making the overtures and was IRL not Linda's biggest fan). The ending is the strangest for this. They have the SNL thing like in the movie but it's weirder as Paul is CRYING. OBVIOUSLY CRYING. CAN HEAR AUDIBLY FROM A DISTANCE CRYING. The whiplash of John throwing down these implications and suggestions to just ... nonchalantly giving a hand grip goodbye and ignoring Paul's tears after going on this whole journey together is WEIRD and makes him look like a user and a selfish, insensitive prick. Like bestie your bestie is crying you can call Yoko back??? Also the end is meant to be a love you to both each other and their wives but Paul's is clearly to mostly John and John's feels mostly to Yoko. It's not a good look on John and its not a good look on his relationship with Yoko (yh John could free himself from the prison he's made for himself and was about to but the darn Yoko pull is just too strong guys). Again this would be sort of sad but fine if it was Paul making the overtures or there were no overtures but it isn't and there are! John is both the mooning would be romancer and the unavailable ex. Once again nuance and coherency (as well as Paul and Linda!) are sacrificed for the traditional John and Yoko angle. Wholeheartedly, it feels like there has been a layer of implication added onto the script, a layer which means that the original elements of the script would need to change to work but they haven't done it so you have this Frankenstein's monster of a traditionalist narrative fused with loaded suggestion.

So yeah, I think the whole thing had a lot of potential as a play but the script needs an overhaul, the actors need better chemistry and if you are going to go there, for gods sake GO THERE.

[lazywitchling]

“So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?”

(Yes I did just order a pot pie from the chicken fast food place. I’m watching 12 hours of movies, I ain’t cooking a whole pot pie!)

Okay. Look.

When I was younger, my cousin bitched about elves at Helm’s Deep not being in the book, but I didn’t think it mattered because it’s cool and I liked elves and it made me the fun kind of sad when Haldir died.

But now I get why. (I mean, ultimately it’s a fictional story so it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of life, blah blah, you get the drill. I will complain about this, but I don’t care if you like it, ya dig?)

So here’s the thing. Theoden’s whole storyline throughout this movie and into the next is that he does not believe anyone will help him. Gondor could have come to save his people, but they didn’t. Rohan was left on its own, and people died, and that sucks. So Theoden has succumbed to the depressive thoughts of “We’re all gonna die anyway, why bother fighting?” (Hey that’s a major— actually THE major point of this whole story!!) He has hidden his people away to hide because he knows fighting is futile because they will be alone.

It’s a big deal when he agrees to go out and fight alongside Aragorn as the Uruks are about to overwhelm the keep. I said last year, Tolkien’s brand of hope is the difference between “I only have one hit point left :(“ and “I still have one hit point left >:)” Theoden STILL has no reason to believe help is coming, but he chooses to act like it is anyway, because the alternative is just curling up and dying right there. And he is rewarded, because Gandalf shows up with reinforcements!! Eomer, who has every reason to hate Theoden, brought all the riders to help! Everyone is saved! Hooray!!

But the damn elves show up in the middle of Theoden’s “Aw nobody will help us :(“ thing. And then elf help arrives. And he goes “Yay, help is here!!” And then nobody really mentions the elves again except for Haldir’s brief dying scene, and Theoden is right back in his “Aw nobody will help us :(“ thing. It just slaughters the pacing of the story, and Theoden’s arc along with it.

Furthermore, the elves say they were sent by Elrond, who has chosen to have the elves fight alongside mortals once again to honor old alliances! Except that Elrond isn’t really participating in this portion of his own character arc, and in fact doesn’t reach that “idk maybe mortals aren’t so bad after all” point until RotK. So it’s somehow fully out of character for him at this point even though he’s not even there.

ADDITIONALLY, it fucks up ARWEN’S story, because the whole thing with her is that she has to choose between sailing to the undying lands and being with her people forever but losing Aragorn, or staying with Aragorn who will eventually die and then she has no one left and no way to get to the undying lands and will never see her family again and will just live until the heat death of the universe. See, I’m pretty sure (don’t quote me on this) that there’s like… a respawn thing that happens with Tolkiens elves. They’re not only ageless, they’re unkillable. They CANT die. That’s why Arwen’s choice is so difficult. She couldn’t even live out life with him and then jump off a bridge after he dies so she doesn’t have to see the heat death of the universe. She’s literally stuck.

But friggin Haldir takes a sword to the head and has a sad death moment, and then I’m left wondering why everyone is pestering Arwen so much. If elves can die, then she has no problem.

I’m pretty sure it messes up other storylines too, but my pot pie is getting cold.

[ilikefictionstuff]

If you ever want your heart ripped out of your ribcage and state of mind utterly baffled because what you just read and emotions you felt cannot possibly be real I suggest you read the Cry, or better yet, Beg novel.

I JUST DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO FEEL AT THE END???

[bacchuschucklefuck]

pygmalion and galatea for aroace people

you should tell your friends what I look like, riz gukgak.

[touchlikethesun]

honestly while watching the untamed, i was thinking that the censorship didn't really bother me all that much, like sure they changed a few lines moved some things around, but they also added scenes so the trade-off really seemed worth it.

i am now realising that i felt that way just because for 80% of mdzs there wasn't that much to censor, playing with the wording was all they needed to do to meet the requirements. i have now reached that last 20% and the full weight of what the censorship robbed from us is starting to sink in.

what do you mean we don't see lan zhan cradling a delirious wei ying before fighting his own clan elders to defend him. idc if you multiplied the number of lashes he received by 10 it is so much less impactful when it's su she and jin guangyao who are the agitators also i don't understand what the timeline is supposed to be is this after wy is already dead?? how is he so composed??? i have so many issues with this and they would all be resolved if they kept the scene from the novels why couldn't that have been part of their "bromance" too???

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[holocene-sims]

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may 10, 2013 6:00 p.m. the entrance to hell

is binn béal ina thost

sweet is the silent mouth