#and to apologize for how he acted in the past by expecting stuff of her

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 9] Tantrum

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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You’ve known Satoru ever since you were five years old, and yet you’ve never realized just how spoiled and entitled he is. Sure, you knew that his parents would buy just about anything he wanted and he never had to face any consequences but you never really notice. Nor did you care. Not until he’s right in front of you, in front of your desk, and he tells you,

“You’re fired.”

It catches you off guard. You’re completely confused, and you don’t gather your thoughts in time. When you’re about to question what he means, he’s locked in his office. You knock on the door, and when there’s no response, you knock much harsher. He ends up opening the door, a brow raised as he asks, “Did you not hear me?”

“You can’t fire me.” You tell him, and he hums as he pretends to think about it. You’re about to call his mother to tell her about the situation, but Satoru slams the door shut which startles you.

“I want you to pack your shit up and leave this building, you’re fired.” Satoru says. You’re opening and closing your mouth, trying to think of what to say. A comprehensible sentence isn’t forming in your head. “You’re not doing your job properly.”

“I’m not doing my job properly? Last time I checked, I was. I’m just not fucking you like you want me to!” You raise your voice and his eyes widen at what you say. He didn’t realize how outspoken you’ve become, but hearing you say that is a reality check for the man.

“How dare you say that?” He responds, making you roll your eyes. You unlock your phone and look for his mother’s contact. Meanwhile you tell him,

“You’re a fucking horrible person. Why are you trying to take my job away from me when I’ve excelled at my job? Because we have a past together? I’m sorry for dating you, I guess.” You finally find the contact and when you’re about to call her, he takes the phone from your hands.

“Are you trying to call her? What business do you have with her? Why is she employing you?” He asks the questions that remain unanswered. You’re also not giving him an answer. He scoffs at your silence before saying, “Reason doesn’t matter. I’m the boss, and you’re fired.”

“You’re an entitled son of a bitch.” You take your phone back. You’re about to call his mother but you pause. You take a deep breath before you say, “You know, I’m glad you left me. If we had gotten married we would’ve gotten divorced within a year.”

“So suddenly you can remember we have a past together.” He says, making you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You chuckle, rolling your eyes.

“You were the one who told me to forget about our past while we worked together, why are you mad that I wasn’t bringing it up!” You argue, and he’s gathering his thoughts while you dial his mother. You put the phone on speaker, and he says,

“There’s no way you’re calling her.” And when she picks up the phone, he hears her voice. There’s no way his own mother would side with you of all people. He’s holding back a smirk, waiting for you to say something, to ridicule yourself.

“Hey, Mrs. Gojo. I’m with your son right now and he’s trying to fire me.” You inform her, and you both hear her sigh. Satoru is waiting for it. She’s going to tell you off, she might be putting up a tough act with him but when it comes between you and him, she’ll obviously side with him.

“I’ll talk to him. Don’t pack your stuff up, he’s just throwing a tantrum.” And she hangs up on you. You smile at Satoru, batting your eyelashes before you tell him,

“I’ll let you handle her. Have fun.” Just as you speak his phone rings, and he sees his mother’s name on the screen.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting that same day when Mrs. Gojo texts you to meet up at a restaurant at lunch. Maybe she wants to talk about Satoru’s awful behavior with you and apologize– You doubt that she’s apologizing, that’s certainly the last thing she’s going to do. You’ve known the woman so long, and you don’t remember her ever apologizing.

You get to the restaurant, and luckily for you, it isn’t something that’s high-end. It’s nice, but nothing extravagant that’ll make you feel bad about how you look. You walk into the place, and tell the hostess the name that the reservation is under, and she leads you to the table. A sigh escaping your lips when you see her and who she’s with. Of course.

“Mrs. Gojo… Gojo.” Your eyes shift from the mother to the son. You know there’s no way you can escape from this, so you might as well sit down comfortably. “What’s the reason for this meeting?”

“I can’t have you two working together while you bicker like children. I need you two to make up.” She says, and you click your tongue. You clear your throat before you tell her,

“Mrs. Gojo, I think it’s best to hurry up with hiring another secretary for your son. As much as I try to ignore it, we have a past together and we simply can’t get along even in a professional manner.” You try your best to be honest with her. You would’ve gladly been demoted back to Shoko’s secretary, but not fired by him. Especially since you know that he did it without his mother knowing.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, dear. I put you as Satoru’s secretary because that’s what I think fits best.” She responds. Satoru pinches the bridge of his name while your nails dig into the cloth of your skirt. Right, your opinion doesn’t matter. She’s the one that makes all the decisions around here. You stare at Satoru, waiting to see if he’ll actually say something to her.

To no surprise, he bites down his tongue.

She takes a sip from her water before she clears her throat. “I should get going, you two figure it out. I told the waiter to keep his eye on you.”

This reminds you of when you were kids and Satoru would snatch a toy out of your hands which would ensue an argument. You were always forced to make up, of course Mrs. Gojo wouldn’t be the one to force you because at the time she didn’t want her son to be friends with you. It’d always be your mother.

You’re tempted to leave when she leaves, but you stay in your seat. You’re hungry, you might as well order something. He doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave either. When the waiter comes around, you both order something.

You sit in silence, awkwardly looking around the place. After around a minute or so, you take your phone out. You open the couple of messages you have from the nanny, and smile as you see your son. He’s playing with the toy cars that his grandmother got him, and you take this opportunity to glance at Satoru and then at your son. You hate how much they look alike, and as you look back and forth you realize they look more similar than what you had in mind.

“How’s Ren?” He asks, and you nearly drop your phone. You furrow your brows as you take a big gulp from your glass. Can he read your mind? He awkwardly looks around before he asks, “Is that not the name of your cat?”

“Yeah.” You laugh. It takes everything in you not to burst into a fit of laughter. You completely forgot that your son is now a cat. You take a sip of water before saying, “He’s good.”

“Maybe we can make up if you show me a picture of your cat.” He says, and you roll your eyes as you shake your head.

“I decide when we make up, after all, you tried to fire me.” You point out. He really can’t argue with that. You tap your finger against the table before you tell him, “I guess you can talk about what you wanted to talk about so badly. Remember when you asked me to dinner?”

“Yeah… I’ve thought about it and that won’t end well.” He confesses. He can’t get rid of you, he doesn’t know why his mother is insistent on you two working together. “I guess… How have you been doing the past five years?”

“I’ve been…” You take a deep breath. You found out your boyfriend got married months after breaking up with you, you had a baby alone, have been raising him alone, overworking yourself to ensure Ren has the best possible upbringing. You’re tired. You sheepishly smile, “Fine. I’ve been fine.”

“You look tired.” He says. You have no idea why his words make your eyes fill up with tears. You chuckle, standing up to use the bathroom.

“That’s what happens when you work for your mom.” You respond. He doesn’t know what else to say, but it’s fine, you walk away to use the bathroom. He bounces his leg as he waits for you. He has to think of what he’s going to say to kill the awkwardness that goes on at your table

There’s a vibrating sound on the table, and he sees that you’ve left your phone. Satoru gets a great idea, you might not want to share much about your life but you’ve left your phone behind. He doubts your password has changed. He holds back, it’s an invasion of your privacy. But if the phone that’s across the table were to magically land in front of him and light up, it wouldn’t be an invasion of your privacy if he just glanced at it.

He’s fighting back on grabbing the phone and checking everything that you have there. His hand lands on the table and he slowly moves his hand. And just when he’s about to reach the phone, you’re back. You ask, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He tries to play it off, his hand going to his side of the table and he puts his elbow on the table before his head rests on his hand. You try to act as if you didn’t see him reaching for your phone. You came back when you noticed you had left your phone and you feared this would happen. “So um… Are you seeing anyone?”

“I don’t have the time.” You share. Your food finally gets to the table and you get your utensils to begin stuffing your face. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

“Right.” He awkwardly chuckles. You both begin to eat, and his eyes can’t stop looking at you as you try your best to keep your tableside manners. Satoru can’t eat, his appetite goes away. His stomach growls, wanting food but the thought of eating makes him want to puke. He wipes his mouth with a napkin before he clears his throat. “I apologize for firing you… You are doing a great job and I just–”

“Got in your feelings.” You finish his sentence for him. He ends up sighing. You’re right. You shrug, “As long as you don’t let it happen again.”

“I won’t. I promise. Next time around it’s up to my mom.” He responds.

“So we’re stuck working together forever.” You joke. He ends up laughing. He watches you eat, and you feel awkward since he watches you like a hawk. When you swallow the mouthful of food, you ask him a question that keeps bugging you, “Are you and Sayo thinking of having kids?” 

“Kids! Kids… Um, we haven’t talked about it. Don’t think she wants them.” He answers, and he sounds unsure about it all. You find it odd considering that’s his wife of five years, but it’s none of your business. You know Satoru wants kids but perhaps he’s changed his mind. “So um… You and Suguru.”

“What about us?” You slightly tilt your head to the side. Satoru doesn’t want to bring it up. He doesn’t want to give you ideas, but he already mentioned Suguru.

“You two seem… Friendly.” He asks, and you know what he’s insinuating. 

“I wish… I don’t think he’s into me.” You confess since he hasn’t bothered to contact you ever since he found out about Ren, and Satoru won’t mention the past. He won’t mention it because if he hears that you’ve started dating Suguru, he just might lose his mind.

“How could he not?” He says, and you feel your face get warm.

“Let’s not.” You reply, and he bites his lip. He ends up nodding in agreement. He would have talked to you for hours a couple of years ago, but he doesn’t find a topic to talk about. You don’t know each other anymore.

You keep eating quietly since neither of you want to talk more deeply about the past, and when you’re finished, Satoru calls the waiter to cover the bill. To your surprise, Mrs. Gojo got it covered. You both stand up and exit the restaurant. 

You don’t bother saying anything else as you begin to walk to your car, and you assume that Satoru begins to walk the other way until he calls out your name. You come to a full stop and you turn to look at him. You sweetly smile at him, before you ask him, “What’s up?”

You don’t know what to do when he wraps his arms around you. He hugs you so tightly that he sucks the air out of your body. You’re not sure what to do– Whether you want to hug him back or just awkwardly stand as the man that you’ve loved for so long hugs you. He’s been waiting to do it for five years. 

And he’s waiting for you to hug him back, but you’re not budging. Until you feel a droplet on your shoulder. His head rests on your shoulder and he sniffles. You finally hug him back, “Don’t cry, Toru. You have no reason to cry.”

It’s muffled but you’re sure you hear an,

“I’ve missed you.”

#[changes] #gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

[sneepseverus]

tysm

can i recommend a snapesmut fic? i just want to see him at the yule ball finding a fem reader in a carriage and decides to help her out if yk what i mean? and they make it a regular thing but not in just a carriage in like his class and that behind a paintin in the forest idk im not sure, i would prefer if the reader was a student cause i like taboo stuff but if your not comfy can you make her his assistant? ty it would mean alot

I made the reader his assistant here! As I reread the request, I realized I also made a slight modification; I made Y/N take the lead once they were in the carriage (hope that's okay! It just felt more natural with what I had in mind 🙏)

Warnings:

NSFW (MINORS DNI)

Riding, p in v, oral (F and M receiving), fingering

Word count: ~2.3k

"Enjoying ourselves, are we?" you asked teasingly, knowing fully well the answer was no. There was nothing more Severus loved than attending school events after working hours and having to act as a chaperone for developing adolescents with raging hormones. 

"Obviously," he replied, letting out a huff. 

His sarcasm never failed to make you smile. Most people found him intimidating, scary even, and you'd be lying if you said you never felt that way. However, after working with him and getting to know him these past few months, your feelings quickly became warmer, hotter even. You had sometimes spent time outside work, but it was nothing more than a quick cup of tea. 

But tonight you decided it would be different. "Now's my chance!" you thought. You put in more thought into your outfit than you usually would have for an event like this, hoping that seeing you in a different context would make him see you more than his assistant, as a person (an attractive one, at that.) You practiced many times in your head how to ask him to dance; you didn't want to come across as too imposing, but you also wanted to let him know you were interested in having something more than a professional relationship. 

However, any semblance of confidence swiftly left your body. While he did acknowledge you when you made your way next to him, his expressions suggested he didn't particularly care that you were all dolled up for this event. He was more focused on the drink in his hand and the students dancing in the center. 

Unsurprisingly, you could only focus on one thing. It was a rare sight to see him without his cloak; it almost felt a little too intimate. Fuck, all you wanted to do was rip apart all those buttons and see what was hiding underneath. And those fingers; why were they grasping a glass and not your waist? You were hoping mistletoe would appear so you'd have an excuse to kiss him and…have his mouth do other things to you.

"No, now is not the time to be thinking such things!" you thought to yourself. Unfortunately, it wasn't as simple to stop as you would have liked; you could already feel the sensitivity rising in your core. 

"Excuse me!" you babbled before dashing off somewhere secluded so you could clear your mind.

You found an empty carriage outside and entered. Despite the frigid weather, it was the closest private place you could have at the moment. You took deep breaths, trying to erase all the explicit imagery forming in your head so you could carry on with the night. 

All of a sudden, you heard a bang from outside, and the door quickly opened. "Y/L/N? What are you doing here?"

Shit. "Oh! Severus, I…" you began, clearing your throat, "I needed some fresh air, is all. I'll be back inside in a moment."

"Are you certain? You looked quite flustered before scurrying off."

"Yes," you replied. "I'm all right."

"Oh, I see. My apologies. You weren't…expecting anyone were you?" he followed up, embarrassed. "If so, then I'll leave you be." Despite the darkness of the night, you noticed his fists tightening around his wand.

"Expecting anyone? Please, if it were someone, it'd be you," you blurted out, not realizing what you just insinuated until after the fact.

"Oh? And why is that?" he asked curiously, raising his eyebrows.

You could feel your cheeks become hotter. "I just mean—Oh, for Merlin's sake, the truth is…I could hardly keep my eyes off you tonight. I so desperately wanted to ask you to dance, but I got scared and ran off. That’s why I’m here. There you have it," you confessed. 

You expected him to leave awkwardly, but instead, he entered the carriage before sitting across from you and closing the door. "Well, since we are being honest here, I must confess that I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."

"What?"

"Yes. Seeing as I supervise you, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, so I tried my best to look away. But I must say, you look rather beautiful tonight. I mean, not that you don't normally do, but tonight especially, with your dress and jewelry and hair and…" he rambled. "But anyway, that’s expected; what isn’t is how you could feel similarly about me."

"Are you serious?!" you exclaimed. "How could I not? You're so captivating, the way you speak and carry yourself. How can they have us work together daily and not think I'd eventually become attracted to you? I'm surprised someone as intelligent as you can't see just how sexy you are."

"Sex…y?” he repeated. "Are you really certain you’re feeling okay? I think your lack of proper outerwear has somehow halted your ability to think correctly."

"Shut up! It’s true!” you maintained. "Your voice, your mind, your hands, all of you is so sexy."

"Well, since 'professionalism' clearly no longer exists in this space…I can easily say the same about you."

You weren’t sure if you were imagining his last sentence, but there was no time to think. "Fuck, just kiss me already," you ordered.

In just a second, your arms were wrapped tightly around each other as your lips crashed. Your fingers found their way into his hair, while his were exploring your back, slowly sliding down until they reached your hips.

Inside the limited space, you settled on his lap, pressing your core against his. His eyes lowered from your face to your cleavage placed right in front of him. As you felt his hardness developing underneath his pants, you began slowly grinding against it, eliciting involuntary moans from him. "Just tell me if you want to stop at any point," you breathed, but his expressions and hands gripping your lower back were clear indications of his willingness to continue.

You could feel your wetness building, and your need to feel him inside you was only getting stronger. "I want to ride you," you blurted out. You slid off him to pull down your soaked underwear, dangling it in front of him before throwing it to the side.

He paused, taking his time to process what was happening right before him. But not too long after, his fingers slid down to his waistband, slowly unbuckling his belt. He was embarrassed but couldn't leave you being the only one pantless.

As you lifted your dress up, his own bottoms came off, revealing his aching cock. "Fuck," he let out at the sight of you sliding yourself down on him with such ease.

With him holding you to keep you balanced, you began to bounce slowly up and down, letting out a moan each time. You gripped his shoulders, staring lustfully into his eyes before he dropped his head back.

"You fill me up so well," you uttered. With whatever remaining energy you had, you placed messy kisses all over his face. "Just like I've been dreaming this whole time.” 

Although he wasn't able to let out a single word, the soft moans leaving his parting lips were enough to tell you how he felt.

You couldn't keep it together any longer. As your bounces sped up, your orgasm took over while his hot cum simultaneously spilled deeply inside you. "Severus! Ah!" you screamed. When you were certain your body could not produce any more pulses, you slid off him, trying to regain your energy.

You helped each other get your bottoms back on, but there was no way you could re-enter the room. Even if you played it cool, nobody would be able to ignore the messy hair and lipstick marks all over his cheeks.

You exited the cramped carriage, gathering your composure.

"I didn't realize we were on a first-name basis," he finally said, smirking.

"We just fucked in a carriage; I sure hope we would be."

"You're right...Y/N."

As you made your way back to the castle, trying to find an entrance where no one else would be, you linked your arms around his. "I hope we can make this more of a regular occurrence.”

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The next few weeks were even more exciting and scandalous than the night of the ball.

Nobody questioned you when you told your colleagues and superiors you had work to do with Severus in his office. Instead of marking papers, you were busy being bent over next to his desk while his cock filled you up, balls slapping against your skin with each pump. He had one hand gripping your hip while the other was cupping your beautiful ass. You made it clear you’d only let him fuck you if he overcame his fear of being too loud. Though his office was secluded from the rest of the castle, the thought of someone hearing him moan and groan from behind the thick walls made you come even harder. 

You thought he wouldn’t be able to keep up with your horniness, but you were soon proven wrong. One day after class ended, when Severus was certain all the students were gone, he locked the door and looked toward you cunningly. "If you’d let me, I’d like to taste that sweet pussy of yours," he confessed. 

Without hesitation, you sat on a clean table, spreading your legs widely for him to enjoy. 

His hands gripped your thighs before his fingers trailed up until they almost reached your center again, intentionally avoiding your sensitive bud. 

"Please, just eat me already," you begged.

"Shhh. Patience, my dear."

Once he was content with the number of moans escaping your mouth, he slid your panties down and placed his fingers on your mound, spreading your lips so he could get a good look at your clit. He pressed his nose against it and inhaled deeply, savoring your natural scent.

Finally, he let the tip of his tongue press against you. He closed his eyes and let it slide up and down through your slit. Once he realized how wet you were, he slipped a finger inside you and let his tongue concentrate on your clit. 

You took off your top and bra before falling back against the table and fondling your boobs. Somehow he maintained a perfect rhythm, giving equal attention to your G-spot and clit.

Knowing how much you loved the sound of his voice, he intentionally let out a series of vibrating moans against you.

"Fuck, Severus, I'm about to come!" you yelled.

You thought he’d take this as a sign to continue his pace, but he pulled away instead. "That’s 'Sir,' I'm about to come."

"Sir, please let me come! Please, I need it!"

Satisfied, he continued working toward your orgasm. He was practically devouring you with the way his tongue was lapping your whole pussy. With each moan from you, he sped up his pace, not leaving until he was certain you were completely finished. 

As you tried to catch your breath, he helped you sit back up, smirking at you. Seeing how wiped out you were, he was not expecting the next few words from you.

"Now, it’s your turn!"

"W-what?"

You hopped off and held his hand, leading him to the nearest open seat. You spread his legs apart before palming his erection trapped behind the confines of his trousers. Your fingers gripped his waistband, and you proceeded to unbuckle his belt. 

He raised his eyebrows as he let you pull his bottoms off. When his leaking cock sprang out, you beamed with joy and licked your lips at the sight.

He let out a low groan as soon as your fingers wrapped around his cock and dragged up and down the entire length. You let out a puff of hot air on his tip, teasing him just like he did earlier with you.

"Shit," he whispered, clearly willing and ready. 

With your free hand now cupping his balls, you let your tongue swirl over his tip and lick up and down his shaft, exploring every inch of his thickness. 

"Mmmh," you let out, pulling away for a second to compliment how he tasted.

He placed his fingers on the back of your head to balance himself and lead you to the right spots. He couldn’t help but buck his hips up toward you, forcing you to go down deeper.

Of course, he couldn’t last for as long as you did. Thick ropes of cum shot into your mouth as he let out a booming "FUCK!" His body was shaking uncontrollably until his climax finally came to a pause. 

With sweat starting to drip down his head, he kept his eyes closed, too tired to stand back up. You wiped your mouth and helped get his lower half covered once again.

When his brain started to clear again, he slowly got out of his seat and regained control of himself. "I believe it’s time for lunch," he stated nonchalantly.

But as you made your way to the Great Hall, you pulled him aside and trapped him against the wall before placing your lips on his. You didn’t care if anyone saw; if anything, you wanted a professor to catch you in the act. "Mmmh, Severus," you let out between kisses. 

He was too flustered to know where to place his hands, but they eventually settled on your lower back. 

When you finally pulled away, he stared at you, shocked. "My goodness, Y/N. I thought I could keep up with your energy, but I’m starting to have second thoughts."

"Trust me, there will be more where that came from. You'll build your stamina up in no time. I'll see you tonight…sir," you replied before winking at him, leaving what would occur later that day to his imagination.

#snape #snape smut #snape x reader #snape x y/n #snape x you #snape fanfiction #snape fanfic #snape fic #snape content #severus snape #severus snape smut #severus snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x you #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape fanfic #severus snape fic #severus snape content #professor snape #professor severus snape

[lixie-phoria]

[14.0 sweater weather] BETTER THAN REVENGE !

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the night was loud. between jeongin and han's bickering, changbin's laughter, and chan's occasional reprimands, there was no place for awkward silence. even as the seconds advanced towards midnight, and the rest of the campus fell into a peaceful silence, jeongin's dorm was filled with noise.

and for that, you were grateful.

"you dumbass you didn't boil the ramen enough!"

"I did. This isn't my first time making ramen!"

"no it's still-"

"ok that's enough," chan interjects, throwing an exasperated glare at the youngest boys of the group. "Han if you think the ramen is undercooked just add warmer water to it."

"I don't think that's how it works-"

"oh for fucks sake just eat the damn food!"

you watch in amusement as the boy sinks further into the couch, a pout puckering against his lips as he shoves the chopsticks into his mouth.

"nobody ever takes me seriously here-"

"anyways!" changbin exclaims, meaningfully pinching han's side as his eyes raise to meet yours, "we have more important stuff to discuss than how jeongin makes ramen."

it takes you a second to realize all their eyes have turned to you - although jeongin looks unwilling.

"so yn, innie here isn't giving you too much trouble, right?" changbin teases, digging his elbow into his friend's side.

"of course i haven't-"

"let her speak!"

you laugh at the way jeongin huffs, crossing his arms before falling back into his seat, avoiding your eyes.

"he's a pain. i can't wait for this to be over," you play along - much to han and changbin's excitement as their eyes light up.

"has he? well that isn't acceptable, is it?"

"can you leave me alone?"

but that seemed to be the last thing on any of their minds as they turn their attention towards you again.

"you know when he first told us about your arrangement we were a bit worried," chan adds, "but this seems to be working out for you guys."

chan was by far the only one who hadn't teased the youngest boy, but you could clearly see he was just as interested in the conversation.

"yeah well, we're trying. we'll see how much it's really helped him after our test next week."

"yeah-"

"but has this been helping you as effectively?"

you blink at han in confusion as he leans forwards from the couch.

"what?"

"han drop it-"

"you know with the entire making yeonjun jealous plan? i hope you've been giving his cheating ass a hard time!"

yeonjun.

cheating.

oh.

all the progress you had made came crashing down in that single moment.

han hadn't anticipated the depth of his words, obviously. it was a mistake, and you understood that, but the weight still fell like solid lead down your stomach. your throat clogged up, and you could barely meet any of their eyes as the culprit slapped a hand across his mouth, evidently regretting it.

cheating little slut.

yeonjun's words came breaking through the barriers you had tried so hard to build.

it's your fault.

you didn't think it was possible, but your mother's words pierced deeper than yeonjun cheating on you.

any sensible boy would break up with you.

she was probably right. nobody in their right minds would like someone who couldn't even bring herself to move past the boy who had cheated on her.

you should apologize to him. like your mother expected you to.

your company had obviously picked up on your discomfort, and if you hadn't been so caught up you would be embarrassed at the revelation of the chink in your armor.

"you dumbass," you hear changbin hiss under his breath.

"yn im sorry-"

jeongin was the first to act - slipping his hand into yours to pull you up - sending a sharp glare towards his roommate.

"i think we're done for today," he said, gently guiding you towards the front door, picking up your books on the way.

"you guys clean up, please. i'll drop yn back to her dorm."

he only gave you enough time to bid your goodbye to the three boys - including a forgiving smile towards han - before you two stepped out into the cold night.

"you don't have to walk me back."

"it's past midnight, yn. i'm not letting you go alone."

you were grateful, despite your hesitance. the last thing you wanted was to be alone with your thoughts.

"and i'm sorry about han. he didn't mean to bring him up."

you shake your head, patting jeongin's arm in comfort. "it wasn't his fault, don't worry about it. and please tell him not to feel guilty either. it's alright."

"but are you sure you're okay?"

were you okay?

you didn't know.

until the last match, you and yeonjun were technically still on good terms. there had been no bad blood.

but after your argument? you didn't even know where your relationship stood.

you hadn't broken up officially. you were still together, and the thought was sickening. not because you wanted to break up with him. no. but because it was reassuring. and you hated the little comfort that it bought.

"yn?"

your gaze snaps to the side as jeongin's hand softly brushes yours.

"sorry, i was just thinking," you sheepishly mutter, avoiding his eyes.

he doesn't push any further, and the rest of the walk is spent in silence until you reach your block.

"thanks jeongin."

he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats, smiling back as the street light shines down on him, highlighting his features.

"don't worry about it. sleep well, yeah?"

you almost send him away with that, but the cold breeze that flutters past your skin jars you into your senses.

"wait!"

you hastily take off your hoodie, patting down your ruffled hair as he turns to look at you in confusion.

"something wrong?"

"it's cold. take this. you didn't carry yours," you say, thrusting the article at him, avoiding his eyes.

"oh it's fine-"

"we have an important exam coming up. i'd hate it if you fell sick because of me."

he doesn't notice the blush dusting your face as he thankfully accepts the warmer clothing, and you're grateful for the dark.

"thanks yn."

"i should thank you."

he grins at you one last time before he's on his way back, absentmindedly fiddling with the sleeves of your hoodie, sending a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. you hoped you weren't imagining the tips of his ears turning red. you hoped he would keep it, and only give it back when it had caught on to his scent.

in a much better mood than with which you had set out from his dorm, you almost manage push away yeonjun to the back of your mind.

that is until your phone notifies an incoming message.

never mind.

©lixie-phoria, 2024

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[paintingwhiteceilings]

My request is completely self-indulgent but if you want to can you write for seventeen reaction to their S/O preferably she/her pronounce but u can change it you want having a twin brother?? Also I apologize if by any chance you see this request repeated multiple times in your inbox it’s just my internet connection being slow and weak asf 👎🏽

❃Seventeen and their S/O’s siblings❃

Ahhh so sorry this took as long as it did! I had a crazy few weeks and somehow my asks ended up under a pile of notifications. I mayyy have changed the ask to a general sibling prompt. I don't really know any twins so I don't think I could successfully write that kind of sibling dynamic repeatedly and get away with it. Instead, I included a variety of different sibling dynamics (with a couple of twin brothers); I hope you don't mind!

Scoups/Seungcheol:

❀ When you finally decided to introduce Coups to your older siblings, you hadn’t really been worried about whether they would like him or not. After all, he is very responsible and mature, being in charge of his twelve younger members; it wouldn’t be too difficult for your older siblings to trust him with their youngest.

❀ What you hadn’t been expecting, however, is for them to love him and treat him as if he was their own younger brother. Being the youngest in his own family and, let’s be fair, a pouty, whiny baby in Seventeen, he easily fell into the role of the youngest once he shook off his initial shyness and your siblings ate it up.

❀ Even worse, where you often struggle to get your siblings to do anything for you, all Coups has to do is pout or act cute, and they will sacrifice the world for him. They will even offer to pay for his meals and take him out to fun family activities regardless of whether you are able to make it. You’re half convinced Coups has become the favourite because he has no problem with spending an insane amount of money on your family, and he refuses to let them pay for anything.

❀ Yeah, needless to say, you’re feeling a bit salty about the whole situation. That was until Coups took you to meet his family, and you immediately became their favourite adopted child; it felt like the universe had righted itself once more.

Jeonghan:

❀ You regret introducing Jeonghan to your twin brother; for the past few hours, during your mandatory weekly family game night, he has been whispering in your ear that you should tap into your twin bond so that you can predict your brother's strategy. Jeonghan is absolutely adamant you two have a telepathic bond; he won't listen to you repeatedly telling him that you can't read your brother's mind just because you are twins.

❀ He will definitely try to figure out how to use the twin exploit to his advantage. Jeonghan will find a way to use this newly discovered information for chaos, either to prank someone else or to get his hands on new teasing material from the person closest to you.

❀ He will absolutely try to convince his members that he just happened to stumble on your male doppelgänger if you look anything alike, exclaiming in wonder that you two have even been born on the same day. Truly, what a coincidence.

❀ Overall, he would become such good friends with your twin brother; Jeonghan has such a charming and calming personality that it is difficult not to get along with him. Jeonghan also strikes me as the type of person who would put a lot of effort into getting along with their significant other's family, spending time with them whenever he can in order to maintain a good bond. 

Joshua:

❀ Joshua is the prime example of the naive only child unprepared for the stuff that siblings put each other through. Sure, Joshua technically got saddled up with twelve brothers after joining Seventeen. However, he didn’t have to deal with siblings and their shenanigans for most of his childhood, leaving the concept of fighting over the last piece of cake, not because you want it yourself but because you don't want your sibling to have it, a bit foreign to him.

❀ He is trying so hard to maintain the peace when you and your younger sister get into another heated argument when you discover she has borrowed a piece of clothing of yours without asking. Your parents love him, as when he is around, they can finally take a break and let him defuse the situation.

❀ Your little sister adores him, too; Joshua has a lot of arts and crafts days with her, where he teaches her how to make bracelets and knit scarves. They even made you a bracelet together; it almost made you forget about her remarks on how Joshua is her favourite older sibling.

❀ At this point, your little sister listens more to Joshua than you. Whenever you want her to do something, and she isn't listening to you, you have now resorted to simply calling him. For some reason, his asking her in a sweet voice to let you use the bathroom seems to work without fail.

Jun:

❀ It doesn't really matter whether you have older or younger siblings; Jun is THE person to bring home. On the one hand, when it comes to younger siblings, he is their favourite playmate and the person they turn to for advice. When it comes to older siblings, on the other hand, he will be cherished and loved as if he were their youngest brother.

❀ He truly shines when it comes to younger siblings, though. Jun is shameless when he plays with your younger siblings; he will crawl over the floor as if he is a snake or meow like a cat for hours on end. His acting skills are definitely paying off, and he will fully commit to whatever role your younger siblings need him to play. In all honesty, he enjoys playing with your siblings as much as they do; he is such a kid at heart.

❀ Jun is also THE person for advice. He never judges them and he is always willing to hear them out about whatever is troubling them. It doesn't leave the room either. He will never share whatever they confided in him with you unless they specifically have told him it is okay to do so.

❀ Honestly, your siblings will be threatening you to not break his heart or break up with him. They adore him and have already begun planning your wedding; you're stuck with him now.

Hoshi/Soonyoung:

❀ Initially, you were incredibly worried about introducing this delusion tiger man to your older sister because you were sure that she would ask you whether you wanted to date a madman. You forgot, however, that Hoshi can be incredibly shy when meeting people for the first time. He is so timid, glancing over at you for assurance every so often, that your sister has to pull you aside to ask whether this man truly is the same insane one you have described in your stories.

❀ He acts shyer and younger around your older sister, reverting to his younger brother role, and she dotes on him so much. He gets a lot calmer around your sister, and quite often, he tends to sit back to watch the two of you bicker back and forth, reminding him of his older sister.

❀ In your sister's eyes, he is the perfect boyfriend for you. He always texts her whenever he wants to buy you something, double-checking with her whether you will like the gift. Their private chat consists mostly of your sister sending him gift ideas based on what you mentioned or looked at during your last shopping trip.

❀ You have repeatedly told her to stop supporting his delusional tiger agenda. Whenever she sees anything tiger-related, she makes sure to buy it to gift to Hoshi the next time you meet up with her. She even goes to the extent of scolding you when you tell him to knock it off.

❀ After he gets more comfortable and his crazy side comes out to play, she will lean over to you to ask whether you have replaced him with a clone.

Wonwoo:

❀ Wonwoo can be incredibly introverted and shy, so when you proposed introducing him to your twin brother, he had a full-on mental breakdown, pestering Mingyu constantly for advice. He knew that you were very close to your twin brother, and it would mean the world to you for the both of them to get along nicely. He couldn't afford to mess this up.

❀ Initially, the meet-up was incredibly awkward, neither saying very much and, instead, sending you countless help-me-out glances. Fortunately, you knew exactly what topic to bring up to get the two socially inept souls talking: video games. You hadn't been particularly worried about the two not getting along, knowing that both of them were enthusiastic gamers.

❀ Nevertheless, a part of you slowly started regretting bringing up video games. The two had been discussing LoL and PUBG strategies for the past hour, and even though it was interesting, you would appreciate the occasional change in topic.

❀ Even worse, after the two of them exchanged user names, you now have to share your boyfriend with your twin. At this point, Wonwoo is spending more time with your brother duoing on Valorant than taking you on dates.

Woozi/Jihoon:

❀ All the training Seventeen has given him, preparing him for the day he would get a significant other with siblings, has been for nought. He still acts like he has never seen a child before upon entering your house. He is so worried that he will mess this up that you can see his hands shaking as he stares at your younger siblings.

❀ Fortunately, Woozi has a superpower; he is loaded and doesn't care to spend it on himself. The moment he offers to buy your younger siblings food with his black card is the moment he becomes their all-time favourite person. Armed with this valuable information, he spoils them rotten; your siblings only have to mention something or point at something in a display, and he will almost trip over himself to get it.

❀ You have tried getting him to stop, as you don’t want your siblings to continuously expect expensive gifts, but Woozi refuses to listen. Just as he does with Seventeen, he treats them like his own family, ensuring that they know he treasures them by burying them underneath a pile of gifts.

❀ One of your younger brothers is convinced he is Iron Man or Batman because someone that rich surely must be a superhero. You may have accidentally let it slip and told Woozi. He has never been more determined to empty out his bank account.

DK/Seokmin:

❀ DK is one of those people that is immediately loved by your family. He is such a sweet and happy person; how can anyone not fall in love with him? DK, in addition to that, is one of those types of people who want to be close to their partner's family and dedicate a lot of time to hanging out with them.

❀ He is perfect boyfriend material when it comes to dealing with your younger sibling, spending hours and hours playing hide and seek with them. In all honesty, DK is far more energetic than your younger siblings, and after spending an afternoon running around with him, they always immediately pass out.

❀ DK is so thoughtful when it comes to older siblings. He makes sure to put reminders for their birthdays on his phone, and he always seems to remember whatever they briefly mentioned wanting for a gift during a conversation five years ago. Does your older sister like theatre? Well, guess what. DK somehow managed to get his hands on tickets for that new popular musical. He only spent the past five hours calling every actor in his contact list to ask whether they could get him in. 

❀ DK would absolutely love to have a big in-law family with many older and younger siblings to surround him. The constant chatter and energy remind him of Seventeen, and, in his opinion, nothing beats that. 

Mingyu:

❀ Hear me out. Mingyu is husband material and the dream of every mother-in-law. That being said, your siblings at first couldn't stand him. It wasn't even anything Mingyu did, but from the moment he stepped into your house and met your mother, she completely fell in love with him.

❀ She keeps comparing Mingyu to them. They can't escape her mentioning Mingyu and his amazing qualities in every other conversation, resulting in a bit of resentment. “Mingyu would cook for me.” “I wouldn’t have to ask Mingyu to put his laundry in the basket.” “Mingyu would at least offer to help me clean the house.” 

❀ They would have been able to ignore her if the guy had any flaws, but no, the guy is tall, handsome, rich, talented and intelligent. They begrudgingly admit that maybe they could be more like him, and the world would be better off for it. They also have to begrudgingly admit that they too, are completely charmed by Mingyu.

❀ Poor Mingyu thinks that he has done something wrong and that they absolutely hate his guts. However, when Mingyu reveals he had a rough week due to an insane amount of random hate comments on his Instagram, they surprise him by declaring war. They have been fuming behind their laptops, insulting anyone who dares to hate on Mingyu. It made him tear up.

The8/Minghao:

❀ He was incredibly anxious when you wanted to introduce your little sister to him; sure, he is good with children, but he never had to deal with younger siblings. Even within Seventeen, he is one of the younger ones, and he already struggles to keep up with the chaos of his twelve members, lovingly (but harshly) scolding them whenever they tired him out. What if he accidentally loses it when your little sister bounces off the walls and insults her, forever damaging her self-esteem???

❀ Well, he had nothing to worry about. Sure, it takes him a second to realize that philosophical discussions with a barely ten-year-old won’t work, but the moment he discovers that your sister likes dressing up and drawing, he knows he will do fine.

❀ He organizes an entire fashion show for her and helps her assemble the most stylish outfits. Every morning, your little sister forces you to send Minghao pictures of her outfits, and he never fails to send a heartfelt compliment back.

❀ Moreover, Minghao spends many afternoons teaching her to throw paint at canvases. One of the paintings hangs proudly in his apartment for everyone to see, and another has replaced you as his phone background. You would be upset if it wasn’t so adorable.

Seungkwan:

❀ Seungkwan fits right in with your older sisters. Maybe it is because he has two older sisters himself, but somehow, it's as if he always has been a part of your family. You feel like he broke a record as he got them to love him in less than five minutes.

❀ The three of them have a private group chat where they share the latest tea and gossip. Neither party knows any of the people the other mentions. Still, whenever anything remotely exciting happens, it will be discussed at length in the chat.

❀ Recently, they have upgraded to calling, and Sarah-from-work's not-so-subtle move on their married boss may have interrupted your date. Then again, you were quite invested in what Sarah-from-work did this time as well, making Seungkwan put them on speaker.

❀ He is so comfortable with your sisters that they have no issue roasting each other. The moment they hurl an insult at you, he has got your back, ready with an arsenal of embarrassing moments they entrusted him with. It never fails to make you love him more.

Vernon:

❀ When you told your older brother that you had a boyfriend, he was ready to give them a good talking to, intimidating them the way an older brother should. However, the moment you introduced Vernon to him, his entire game plan went out of the window. Your brother quite quickly realized that Vernon had drunk enough respect-women-juice that he would never intentionally hurt you.

❀ Moreover, the two of them connected over some obscure film that you had never heard of. They spent most of the evening discussing what they thought of its plot and how the cinematography masterfully added to the atmosphere in the scenes. You could tell that your brother was impressed by how well-articulated and well-thought-out his points were.

❀ At the end of the evening, your brother has completely forgotten about the if-you-hurt-my-sister talk he was supposed to have. The two of them even make plans to go to an indie film that is releasing in art cinemas next week.

❀ That being said, I do not think Vernon would be the type of person who needs to be best friends with your siblings. Sure, he would want to be friendly with them and would not be opposed to the occasional hang-out, but he wouldn’t go out of his way to do stuff with them one-on-one.

Dino/Chan:

❀ It doesn’t really matter whether you have younger or older siblings. Dino is used to both. He grew up with a younger brother and is fully aware of how annoying they can be and how much responsibility you feel towards them as the older one. Dino also has had to deal with twelve annoying older brothers who don’t let him breathe.

❀ Bro is ready with the quick comebacks. Do your siblings want to tease him about something potentially embarrassing he did? Good luck. His members have completely desensitized him. Do your siblings betray him in a game of Risk? He won’t get upset; his members have tried sacrificing him in games even when it wasn’t needed.

❀ Your siblings can’t help but be impressed by how witty and quick he is. When he mentions it to his members, they have the audacity to tell him that this has been part of their plan all along. He definitely believes them when they argue that all the years of teasing and borderline physical harm were for the day he would meet his partner’s sibling, easily able to remain calm regardless of whatever teasing remark was thrown his way.

❀ “What if my partner would have been an only child?” They suddenly get really quiet. The wall has become interesting.

masterlist

#seventeen #svt #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen reactions #seventeen fanfiction #scoups #choi seungcheol #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #svt joshua #joshua hong #svt jun #moon junhui #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #woozi #lee jihoon #dk #lee seokmin #mingyu #the8 #xu minghao #seungkwan #vernon #svt dino #lee chan

[johnwickb1tsch]

you're the worst thing (i'm addicted to) Part 4

a john wick x Helen'sSister!Reader fic You are Helen's baby sister. When you meet John Wick at Helen's graveside, he invites you to dinner to celebrate her birthday. Set a few years after the first movie, 2-4 never happened. Use of y/n. Warnings: canon typical violence. Future reference to threat of noncon, (not John! because he's our assassin sweetiepie). Mourning. Smut. Grey areas. Questionable decisions. Sweetheart!John, BAMF!John Depressed!John - If you can handle the movie you should be fine here... PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

PART 4.

When the night of your art show comes, you do not expect to see John Wick in the crowd. You had not heard from him since that night when he gave you the orgasm of your life, then disappeared from your apartment like he’d only ever been a dark dream.

Though your panties had disappeared too, and you strongly suspect he’d taken them with him.

The gallery is packed this night. It’s a group show, and you’re hardly the main act, but it’s a huge stepping stone for you as an artist. Gallery X is nothing to turn one’s nose up at, and you dare to hope that maybe, just maybe, things might get going from here. The art world is just as much politics as it is producing work, and you were never good at that part of it all.

Helen was, bless. She presented strong work, but she also knew how to read a room, and whose hand to shake, and how to tell someone to go to Hell with a polite smile. You know that her final gift to you was the cachet of her name in a collaboration, and maybe, just maybe, if you play your cards just fucking right, this could be your break.

You recognize the faces of people with big names in the art world here tonight. Critics, museum curators, journalists, and collectors. They’ve all come out to play, and your heart has not slowed its frantic pace in your chest for the past hour since opening.

You snag a glass of champagne from a passing tray, even though you hate the stuff, and that is when you see him through the crowd. He’s across the room, tall and forbidding in a dark suit, his long hair framing his angular face. You can practically feel the weight of his gaze upon you, through the crush of all these people. For a moment, time stands still, as your eyes meet his.

You have thought of him a thousand times since the night he left you sated yet ravenous in your bed. A hot flush blooms across your skin, a spear of desire shooting straight to your loins as you remember what he did to you with that perfect mouth, and those big hands, and those soulful eyes. God, but you would have given him anything, after one look from those yearning dark eyes.

He is dressed well, but he doesn’t exactly look well. There is an edge to his stare; an intensity.

A hunger.

An agonizing thrill runs down your spine; for a moment you have to look away. It’s just too much.

By the time you turn back, he is gone.

You continue to mingle, chatting with your friends and acquaintances, sipping some of the bubbly to try to calm your nerves. It doesn’t work; you feel as though you have a live wire under your skin, a thousand volts of raw emotion running rampant through your veins.

It would have been easier, had it only been lust, or even just pity. But there was something more to it, something substantial and heady and warm, and that made it a much harder beast to slay.

You slowly make your way around to look at the other pieces. It’s the polite thing to do, and interesting too. The theme of the show is Loss. Perfectly broad, and the subjects of the works vary wildly.

In front of a massive encaustic abstract a low voice in your ear stops you in your tracks. “I feel like I owe you an apology.”

You turn your head slightly to find John standing ever so near, so close you can feel the warmth of the solid line of his body behind you. The room is packed and it’s almost necessary to stand this close just to be heard, but still, you get a dark thrill out of it.

“Oh?”

“I feel like I took advantage of you, last we met. I am sorry.”

You turn to face him, standing close enough to kiss. Thanks to the heels you’re wearing, you don’t have to crane your neck too far to look him in the eye.

“Actually, I was kind of thinking I took advantage of you.”

This clearly surprises him, his eyebrows rising. Ah, this dear, sweet, man. You didn’t take him for being naïve, but he is a little older, and the claws of traditional gender roles cling hard and deep.  

“Helen wanted me to look after you, and I—”

“Gave me the most incredible pleasure of my life? Yeah, it was pretty terrible. You’re a selfish beast.”

He blinks at you, clearly stunned. Then his eyes narrow, the hunger from before sharpening to a cutting edge, and a scintillating thrill runs down your spine. You cannot shake the feeling that you’ve just pulled the tail of a tiger; a predator both magnificent and deadly. Mostly it’s excitement; but just the slightest hint might be fear. There is something brimming below the surface of this man that you know you don’t entirely understand. You aren’t sure yet if it is passion, or violence—or maybe a combination of the two. You wonder if Helen ever got to see behind the mask.

Somehow, you are certain she did, and she had not run from him. Perhaps that is what makes you brave tonight.

“You don’t mince words, do you?”

“Helen was the tactful one.” 

“I actually found her refreshingly direct.” 

“But I'm just abrasive. I've been told, believe me. It's because I don't apologize before I tell men what I really think.”

“I don't want your apologies.”

“Either way... I'm a big girl, John. You don't have to be the responsible adult between us.”

The corner of his mouth ticks at that. 

“I feel like I should at least try.”

You shrug, unable to stop yourself from fingering his tie, fighting the urge to wrap your fist in it and pull him to you again. You’ve missed him, and standing this close, what you really want to do is climb him like a tree, and the crowd be damned. “Suit yourself.” You force yourself to stop touching him, although he didn’t seem to mind, or intend to stop you. You sigh deeply, warring with yourself as ever.

This is all so very fucked.

Maybe the truth is the best way to go.

“I like you, John. Maybe I’m just lying to myself, thinking Helen wouldn’t be pissed, but…maybe she’d be happy we’ve found each other.”

You dare to look him in the eyes, and once again, he looks as though he is drowning.

Fuck. You have to go.

You force yourself to step away from him, because your skin feels like its on fire. “We’re all going to Bar Rosé later to celebrate. You’re welcome to come, if you want.”

You retreat to greet a friend who’d come all the way to Manhattan from upstate to support you, and you can feel John’s eyes boring into you as you walk away.

For the rest of the opening you follow him out the corner of your eye. As though he's a magnet, you simply cannot help it. You are achingly aware of his presence, even if it's from across the room. 

He pauses before your piece of Helen for a very long time, letting the crowd mill around him like a rock in a stream. It’s heartbreaking, really, the way he stands there before her, transfixed. A part of you wants to go take his hand, support him in what you know is yet another painful moment for him. But in the end, you decide to let him process it alone. A little later, you notice him talking to the gallery owner. Chummily, almost like they know each other. Of course, Carol Banning had known Helen, so perhaps you shouldn’t be so surprised. 

When the evening is winding down John Wick is nowhere to be found. You're a little disappointed, and a little bit relieved. You're not sure what you think you're playing at, but deep down, you know it's so fucking twisted. 

You meet with your comrades from the show, some artists you knew before, and some new acquaintances too. You hail a van cab to go a few blocks to Rosé. Tonight was a success. Someone bought your painting for a massive amount of money. More than you’d ever dreamed you could charge for a piece of your soul put down on canvas with paint. Carol had assured you it was appropriate, and you guessed she knew her clientele. A part of you was distressed to part with the piece you’d created with blood and tears and Helen’s art, and a part of you was relieved to let it go. You completed the cycle. You were sending Helen out into the world, where she would be remembered, and celebrated, for the remarkable woman she was.

It should have felt like victory, but in truth it was bittersweet.

You are 98 percent sure you don't let it show. Your friends are giddy with the success of the exhibition, and the last thing you want is to bring them down. You are too, truth be told. You were interviewed by not one, but two journalists this evening. One who even worked for the Times. Maybe it’s just curiosity about Helen Morgan-Wick’s baby sister, but…Helen would have told you to stop overthinking and enjoy it.

So perhaps, you will.

True to its name, the neon lights that accent the room at Rosé are pink. The glassware is too. You’re sure it’s a play on seeing the world through rose tinted glasses…but the drinks are strong, and the ambiance is fun. After a round your friends want to dance. You agree, and the four of you have a great time until you pick up a bogey. A man keeps trying to dance up on you, not getting the hint when you sidle away, not engaging with him whatsoever. Finally, you get tired of dodging him, and decide to get another drink. He follows you, leaning on the bar while you wait for the bartender’s attention. “I'm Sasha,” he says in thickly accented English, looking you up and down. He’s not bad looking at all, but there is something in the way he looks at you that makes you uneasy.

“Hi,” you answer, not keen to give him your name.

“You come here often?”

“Not really.”

“What are you celebrating tonight?”

“Who said we're celebrating?”

Had this pushy creep overheard you? Had he followed you from the gallery?

Another voice cuts in from behind you, a string of Russian that almost sounds like a command.

Your unwelcome suitor frowns, answering in the same language. 

You turn your head to find John standing close behind you. You hadn’t noticed him come in; it’s as though he materialized from the shadows. When he puts a hand on your waist you do not flinch, hoping the other guy will get the picture. He frowns, looking between you. He says something quick over your head, and the only word you catch is blyad.

 You’re pretty sure it means fuck.

There is a heavy moment rife with tension between the two men with you stuck in the middle, before the Russian makes a hissing sound between his teeth and goes. He doesn’t just go to the other side of the bar, however. He leaves the premises, slinking out the door, and you turn to look at your savior.

“Wow. What did you say to him?”

He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Did you know him?”

“Hmm. Sort of. From work.”

You tilt your head, staring up at him. He hasn’t removed his large hand from your hip, and even though its possessive and maybe it should bother you, you revel in his touch. You’re not usually one to get off on men fighting over you, but it’s hard not to feel a little glow of primal satisfaction at the exchange. It makes you feel bold, and maybe you run your mouth a little. “Yeah? So did Helen know?”

“Know what?”

“That you’re an ex mafioso?”

You’re 99 percent sure you’re making a joke, but from the sharp way he looks at you, a trill of warning rolls down your spine. He leans down to speak in your ear, “You have quite the imagination, young lady.”

That warmth in your chest descends to pool between your thighs.

The bartender saves you from digging this hole even deeper.

“What can I get you, Mr. Wick?”

“Blanton’s on the rocks,” John answers, then looks to you.

“Vodka martini, please,” you answer.

“We have Smirnoff, Absolut, Grey Goose, Stoli…”

Before you can answer that Smirnoff is fine John answers, “Stoli.”

You raise an eyebrow at him as the bartender goes to pour your drinks. “Thanks.”

“Life is too short to drink bad vodka.”

You huff a laugh at that. “So, do you know every bartender in New York, or…”

“Probably just in Manhattan,” he jokes with a ghost of a smile.

You turn so that you are facing him completely. You have to stand close to hear each other, you reason. It has nothing to do with the fact that this man draws you like you are an asteroid caught in his gravity. If you collide…you have no doubt you’ll burn to pieces.

“Congratulations, on tonight,” he says, and you believe he means it. “Helen would be proud.”

“Thanks. Feels surreal, to be honest.”

“That’s fair.”

You find yourself looking at his tie again, fighting the urge to use it to tug him closer. My, but you are becoming a needy creature in this man’s presence. You have to remind yourself that you do not, in fact, know him that well. Even if it feels like…he could have always been yours. “It’s nice to see you again,” you dare venture, looking up from beneath your lashes.

“Likewise.” He touches you lightly, just below your chin. Your eyes meet, and you feel pinned by those dark orbs, somehow certain he can see right through you,

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…are you okay?” Like on Helen’s birthday, you imagine tonight must have dredged up plenty of emotions that just maybe this poor man would like to bury once and for all.

“I guess I deserve that, after how I behaved.” He is, undoubtedly, referring to the way he fled your apartment a month ago.

“I’m not mad, I just…genuinely want to know.”

He bites his lip as he’s thinking, and its all you can do just to watch him, wishing it was you with his lip between your teeth instead. Finally he answers, “I am as okay as it is possible for me to be.”

It is the most non-answer you’ve ever heard.

Sensing your dissatisfaction with this pointed evasion, he digs a little deeper, leaning in so that his words are only for you. “I didn’t exactly lead a happy life, before Helen. After she passed…I was certain I would never want anyone ever again. You kind of threw a wrench into that.”

“Sorry.”

He gives a little huff of self-deprecating laughter. “Don’t be. I…I like you, y/n. Please, forgive me, for…everything.”

You don’t believe he’s telling you all this to win sympathy, or using it as a line, like so many men would. It’s just facts, and you are moved to the bottom of your soul. Somehow you know that this is not something this man would casually admit to just anyone. “John…” With your heart in your throat you find yourself reaching for him, touching his fingertips with yours on the bar. “It’s ok. You don’t owe me an apology. You don’t owe me anything.”

He tilts his head to look at you, his dark hair swinging into his face. You feel bold enough to reach out, brushing it behind his ear. His eyes close at your touch for the barest moment. It’s so easy to forget that you are in a crowded public venue, with him near. “I owe you my gratitude, at the very least.”

You shake your head, prepared to deny it, but then your drinks arrive, and the moment is somewhat shattered. “Want to sit with us?” you ask, indicating your merry band of artist misfits with your chin. He nods, following you, though his hand has found that place at the small of your back again that warms your blood to an agonizingly slow simmer. Carol has joined you, and you wonder if John will feel awkward, fraternizing here in unspecific but obviously friendly capacity with his sister in law.

Yikes. You do not like it, when you think of it that way.

However, Carol Banning is a veteran of the New York art scene, and she has seen much worse scandals than this. She doesn’t even bat an eyelash, greeting him warmly from behind her large black-rimmed glasses. They chat more about the show, and the state of the art world. Carol mourns that no photographers currently working quite have an eye like Helen did. Then she points a crimson painted claw your way, surprising you. “But this young lady. She’s going to do some interesting things, I have a feeling.”

John salutes you with his dwindling glass of amber liquid, a smirk on his lips you don’t entirely know how to read. “I have no doubts.”

After you finish your drink you find you are ready to go. It’s been a long day, and a big night. Tonight, you fulfilled Helen’s dying wish for you, and somehow you feel simultaneously accomplished and sore to the bone.

“Can I drive you home?” asks John quietly in your ear. It sends a bolt of heat straight to your center, warmth pooling in your loins as you remember what happened last time he made such an offer. You look at him, wondering if he wants an encore, or if he just wants to see you home safe. His face in that moment is so handsome it hurts, but utterly unreadable to you.

“Sure,” you answer, sensing that somehow you’ve just signed your fate over to him with your name on the dotted line.

You hit the street, the cool night air a relief after the close press of the bar. John offers you his left arm, and you take it gladly, leaning on his shoulder a little more than you really need to. Part of it is that last martini with what had been truly excellent vodka—and part of it was just a need to be close to him. A part of you thought you’d never see him again. The fact that he is here, solid in the flesh and you can touch him, kind of blows your mind.

“I’m not parked far,” he assures you, and you nod with a sleepy smile. At the end of the block you see his car parked on the street. It’s a little menacing, you think to yourself, looking at the dark paintjob and the sleek lines. Definitely a car designed to be a predator of the road; something that will run you down and eat you, no matter how fast you try to run.

As you near the vehicle three shadows separate themselves from an alley. John freezes in his tracks, pushing you behind him. You recognize the guy from earlier, Sasha, who is flanked by two intimidating henchmen. He speaks to John again in Russian, and John replies in kind. It pisses you off that you don’t know what’s being said.

“Speak English,” you demand, half-stepping out from behind John.

A low chuckle runs through the men before you that makes your blood run cold. “I said,” enunciates Sasha slowly, “That if he hands you over now I’ll let you both live. He’ll just have to watch as I fuck you like the whore you are.”

“Nice. Very original, fuck head.”

His self-satisfaction morphs to anger. You are scared, but you’re not showing it like you should, and it’s ruining his fun. You use John’s body to shield the fact that you are dipping into your purse for your pepper spray. Why the fuck can’t you ever find anything in your purse when you need it?

What comes next happens so fast you almost can’t register it. One of the toughs made the first move forward, but John is like a hurricane upon them, deflecting strikes and breaking arms, punching one guy in the throat and kicking another in the gut. He throws one with some kind of complicated grapple and flip ninja shit before hitting the other again in the knees. In the blink of an eye two of them are down on the ground, leaving John to take on Sasha, who has drawn a knife. You see that one of the grounded henchmen is fishing behind his back for something. Without thinking you surge forward, knowing it’s a matter of life and death. As his hand raises with the gun you goalie-kick it from his hand, dousing his face with mace.

“Motherfucker!”

The gun goes off before it skitters across the street and under a parked car. He howls with agony, clutching his face, trying to wipe the concentrated capsaicin out of his eyes. In the next moment there is an arm around your waist, pulling you towards the parked cars. You are so caught up in the adrenaline rush that you react without looking, but John catches your hand with the mace, keeping it pointed away from the both of you. “It’s me,” he says, taking the tube and slipping it into his pocket like he doesn’t trust you not to let loose again. “You did good, honey. Come on.”

As he is bundling you into the passenger seat of his car you look back to see Sasha is writhing on the sidewalk with his knife in his leg, shouting what undoubtedly are expletives in Russian. You vaguely wonder if he might bleed to death as the Mustang rumbles to life and you roar away.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim, trembling with adrenaline and you guess, a bit of shock. “What the fuck just happened?”

“Are you hurt?” he asks, deeming it the more pertinent question.

“No. I’m…fine,” you say, looking down at yourself. “Jesus, are you hurt?” You look over at him to see that he is bleeding from a cut on his brow. “Oh my god, let me see.” You reach for him but he holds up a hand. “I’m fine, believe me.”

You catch one more glimpse of the wreckage behind you as he makes a right turn, downshifting. The car surges forward, pressing you back into the seat.

“You totally laid those guys out!”

“Yeah.” You study him from the passenger’s seat, his hard expression highlighted by the passing headlights. His jaw is clenched so tight you think he might crack his teeth. “I'm sorry you had to see that.”

You think about the three guys he leveled out like a human tornado.

“You've got some moves, Mr. Wick.”

He just sighs, sounding so very tired.

“Yeah.”

“Should we…call the cops?”

He looks over at you like you should know the answer to that question, but shit, this is the most violence you’ve seen up close in your entire life. Finally, he just shakes his head, seeming a decade older in that moment. “It wouldn’t do any good,” he assures you.

Except, maybe get him arrested, you reason. Because even though it had been self-defense…the carnage he’d left behind was unreal.  

“Helen said you used to work in security?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus Christ.”

He huffs a laugh at that. “Hardly.”

“I still don’t fucking get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why…this even happened? Men don’t exactly brawl on the street over me.” For Helen? Maybe, more likely, but not you, the boho weirdo who is lucky enough to kind of resemble your model-beautiful older sister, but will never be half as lovely or charming. You suspect there is some other reason this went sideways, that has more to do with John’s professional life before he retired from security.

That job description is holding less and less water the more you think on it. Helen was always super cagey in talking about what John Wick did for a living. You’re starting to get a better idea as to why that might have been.  

John surprises you when he holds out his hand to you across the center console. “I would fight an army for you,” he tells you softly, and goddamn if you don’t believe him. You take his hand, comforted by the strength in the long fingers wrapped around yours. You only let go in between him shifting gears, and you don’t really say anything else until you pull up in front of your building.

“Come on,” you say, swinging open the heavy door of the sportscar. “I’ll take care of you.” The look he pays you is somehow both raw and predatory. A thrill of anticipation runs down your spine, because at this point you’ve lost your mind, and you don’t have the sense to be afraid.

<<PART 3 PART 5>>

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves #john wick fic #keanu x you #keanu reeves x reader

[sonicman66]

My gf is being Tormented by an animatic of Ascended!Astarion set to Burn from Hamilton, so have the idea i'm tormenting her even further with.

EDIT: forgot the read more lmao

Ascended!Astarion gets peggy sue'd after a romanced Tav dies to free themself from his clutches. Her last words to him were 'You're just like him now. The second coming of Cazador. He wakes on the ground right after the nautiloid blows, with all his memories intact, none of his Ascended powers. He's back to square one, but he's done this before, right? All he needs to do is woo Tav again, kill Cazador and the Absolute again, easy-peasy. He even has foreknowledge now, so he can help with pesky sidequests, secure him even further in their good books.

He has a Much Nicer meeting with Tav, no daggers involved. He's smooth and suave but... they're not buying it. For some reason, they're not falling for him. He recalls cute moments they had in his past and they aren't happening here, why arent they happening- why arent they ~~his~~

Because they fell for Astarion the Spawn, not whoever the hell this is. And his behavior gets him left behind more often than not, even when he has things to point out about current questlines.

And maybe one of those times he's left behind, Tav gets severely wounded, bc in the other timeline Astarion was there covering their back-

And maybe shadowheart is out of healing, and they don't have another healer-

So they get back to camp with a Tav who is very clearly struggling to hold on to life and Astarion is suddenly confronted with the fact that he might lose them *again*

So that night he fucks off. He returns the next morning with Karlach and two bags full of health pots. He raided every stash he remembered in the first timeline wnd grabbed em, and also Karlach bc he killes the fake paladins and looted their corpses and she was nearby.

On the way back, Karlach tries to strike up a conversation and mentions how this person must mean a lot to him if he's willing to hunt down health pots in the middle of the night and take down (fake) paladins just for their stuff. And he realizes she is correct, and he does not want to imagine life without Tav.

So he makes it back (ignoring the situation with Wyll, those two will live until he's done) and heads straight to Tav's tent. Almost drowns them in health pots, then sits down. Properly apologizes. Just like 'My behavior up til now has been... less than ideal. That changes now. I don't expect you to forgive me for my past actions, but I am sorry for how I've acted.'

Tav asks him why he's so fixated on them.

'Maybe... in another life, I failed you. Maybe I intend to make it up in this one.'

#bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #ascended astarion #astarion bg3 #for reference a peggy sue is mental time travel #usually someone from late in a piece of media wakes up earlier in the story memories intact #i think its like the only way to redeem an ascended astarion #the power has to Go or he can't change #tav x astarion #astarion x tav #fic ideas

[artist-issues]

i know you are in your Wish Criticism and Analysis Era (love to see it, very interesting takes!!), but i was wondering if you could spare some thought as to why you thought that the moral/lesson of Encanto was not great? in my eyes, it was always mostly about forgiving and moving past generational trauma... even if the movie didn't fully execute on that hah

I can try! I haven't gone over it in my brain in a while. Sometimes answering questions helps me verbally do it, though.

I guess I should clarify. The message in Encanto isn't outright evil...it's just a little tricky to try and teach in the story that they used, without also saying a bunch of stuff that is problematic. I'll try to explain.

The main point in Encanto seems to be something like: "You don't have to be perfect: just being yourself is special enough."

Easy enough. When anyone in the Madrigal family tries to meet Abuela's super-high standards, it turns out to be hurtful. The more Pepita holds her emotions in, the more tense and stressed she gets. The more Luisa tries to carry, the more tense and stressed she gets.

But the problem is, the movie so often gets TOO CLOSE to portraying the opposite of "just being yourself is special enough" as "give your life for others." It tiptoes too close toward the "self-focus is beneficial" line.

The Madrigal family occupation, the thing Abuela is pushing them all too hard to do, is not something bad. She wants them to use their gifts to help others. But Abuela is a (sympathetic) antagonist in the movie.

And it's explained. You feel for her. She apologizes and there's forgiveness, like you said--I'm just saying, it's tiptoeing up to a line that isn't always the most responsible line to show to kids, in a kids' movie. Kids do not generally need help questioning whether or not their parents are being too controlling, or too pushy, or wanting too much--kids usually already lean too far in that direction on their own.

But like. The problem is, there's an equal-opposite lesson each of the character could learn that I think is better for kids, when they're kids.

Pepita should be free to feel, genuinely --> yeah, but Pepita also shouldn't let her emotions get so out of control that they hurt others.

Luisa shouldn't be expected to carry every family burden --> No, but in general it's a good thing to "bear one another's burdens in love" and do whatever you can to help, even if it's heavy.

Isabella shouldn't have to act happy & pretty constantly, and marry for the good of others --> Of course not, but it is good to be able to find joy and act genuinely joyful in all circumstances.

Mirabel shouldn't have to have the same level of accomplishments and abilities as everyone else in order to feel loved --> No, she shouldn't at all, but also, it is never a good idea to say to yourself "there's no room for improvement in me because I'm already enough and perfect; no flaws that need apologizing for or changing."

Abuela shouldn't focus so much on controlling what her family does even if it's for their own good --> No, absolutely not, but in general, an older woman who guides and teaches her family on how to selflessly serve others is considered wise, not controlling.

Bruno shouldn't have to only tell people what they want to hear to be accepted --> no, obviously not, but he shouldn't be so constantly negative that he's causing everyone around him to be anxious (I know that simplifying it because he had a literal power to explain the future and they asked him to, but I'm talking about the lessons kids could glean.)

And that's my main beef (it's not even that big a beef; I thought Encanto was so well-done.) My main beef is that it's a movie kids will be influenced by, but the themes and lessons are really more helpful for an audience of college or even high-school-aged people. People who are old enough to have that level of discernment to say:

"Yeah, it's good that Abuela is trying to teach her family to be selfless and safe, but she goes too far by being fearful and controlling; yeah, it's good to control your emotions, but not if you go so far that you're not allowed to be vulnerable at all; yeah, it's good to want to help others by lending your strength to share their loads, but not if you go so far that you get your sense of worth from your success; yeah, it's good to stay positive and be a light to others, but not if you go too far and become a faker; yeah, it's good to be able to recognize your flaws, but not if you get your sense of worth from making up for them."

Those are the sort of sub-lessons Encanto teaches: "don't make decisions based out of fear (fear that you're losing your worth, your identity, your loved ones, your future, the love of others.)"

I'm just saying, kids aren't going to be able to pick those sub-lessons out as easily. What will probably stick with them is the idea of grandmother = wrong; spending your life helping others = stressed and losing your superpowers etc.

But ultimately, it's a movie with a lot of heart, and this idea of grace and unconditional love, so it is not a big mistake or a loss or anywhere near what I'd rank Turning Red and Wish. It's just a little...reckless for a kid's movie. 🤷‍♀️

#Hope that helps #I could be wrong #there's definitely something to be said for parents explaining these things to kids thanks to Encanto #but that assumes that every parent is teaching their kids how to think critically instead of simplistically while they're being entertained #anywho #Encanto #storytelling #asked #answered #Encanto meta

[thewertsearch]

PAT: mAYBE YOU COULD HELP ME, hERE, PAT: sINCE i DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE NOW, bUT MAYBE HELP ME, PAT: aBOUT A THING THAT HAS TO DO WITH A GIRL, PAT: lIKE, PAT: a ROMANCE THING, yOU MIGHT KNOW ABOUT,

Looks like Tavros is about to get into it. Before he does, let’s speculate for a bit about what he’s thinking.

Tavros looks appalled here - and maybe even a little disgusted. Meanwhile, Vriska’s expression reads as confusion and disbelief that he’s reacting this way. Honestly, I think that’s what bothered Vriska the most - not just that Tavros didn’t kiss her, but that he didn’t think she was worth kissing.  

See, I honestly don’t think Tavros likes her - in any quadrant. Maybe he thinks he does, but he doesn’t look like it, he doesn’t act like it, and he doesn’t talk like it, which is very telling indeed. 

I think Tavros is confused. Vriska is showing interest in him, and he feels like he should reciprocate (tick, tock, goes the imperial drone), but all he actually wants from Vriska is a restraining order. 

PAT: tHERE IS AN ANGRY VOICE IN MY HEAD,

Of the two remaining members of the Midnight Crew, Boxcars is the ‘angrier’ one. None of the Felt seemed particularly angry - except maybe Cans. 

Unless...

PAT: aNYWAY, i THINK VRISKA IS UPSET ABOUT IT, aND SHE'S NOT TALKING OR ANYTHING,

Are you kidding? She just got rejected. Believe me when I say she is fuming. 

CCG: OK WELL, I CAN ADVISE YOU AND STUFF CCG: BUT YOU DO REALIZE THIS IS A PUBLIC BULLETIN. CCG: WE SHOULD BE HAVING THIS CHAT IN PRIVATE.

For all his faults, Tavros is actually a pretty tough nut to crack - it’s often hard for me to tell what he’s thinking. 

Spill the beans, Nitram. I want to hear your take. 

PAT: mAYBE FUTURE HER CAN READ THIS, aND, PAT: i GUESS, PAT: kNOW i'M SORRY ABOUT IT, PAT: i DIDN'T MEAN TO HURT HER FEELINGS,

Oh, dear. 

He was forced into a kiss, and he actually thinks he needs to apologize. This poor kid.

CCG: BUT YOU SHOULD REALIZE THE FUTURE IS KIND OF A WIDE OPEN THING, I MEAN SHE COULD READ THIS LIKE TWO MINUTES IN THE FUTURE AS WELL AS 600 HOURS. [...] PAT: oH, PAT: yEAH, PAT: i DIDN'T, rEALLY THINK OF THAT, PAST arachnidsGrip [PAG] 0:08 HOURS AGO responded to memo.

And it keeps getting better! I almost can’t bear to read the rest of this. 

PAG: Tavros, it's ok. Really. PAG: So you don't feel that way a8out me! That's fine. I shouldn't have expected any different. PAG: I can deal with it! I am not a wimp like you. I roll with 8ad 8r8ks all the time. No 8iggie.

Oh. 

Oh, this is not how I thought Vriska would deal with this, and I don’t believe her for a second.

Remember when she thought Aradia was executing a long-awaited revenge plot on her, because that’s how she sees the world? Vriska is going to ‘forgive’ Tavros - and then, further down the line, she’s going to punish him. 

I don’t think her forgiveness is ‘fake’, exactly - Vriska is actually a pretty sincere person, when she’s not explicitly in cahoots. I think, in this moment, she believes she’s a tough, emotionally resilient winner who can accept rejection. Nevertheless, I don’t think she’s going to be able to forget it. 

PAG: Anyway, though totally unnecessary, your apology is accepted.

It’s the lowest of low bars, but I will give her a quark of credit for acknowledging he didn’t actually do anything wrong. 

I think she really believes this - but that’s not going to stop her from hurting him later. Hopefully Doc Scratch won’t egg her on this time, or she might actually kill him. 

CCG: THERE, GREAT, ANOTHER HAPPY COUPLE CCG: IN WHATEVER HIDEOUS QUADRANT THIS BATSHIT PAIRING WILL SUSTAIN.

Which is none of them!

#2547 #homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5 #s45

[seeingivy]

bsfs older brother sukuna asks!

(these are old asks so ik this is about the last chapter)

BUT EEK THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS IS SO SO SWEET. like legit all the characters are all my friends in real life but also they are all me and i LOVE that they feel real bc lowkey I put my own feelings into it 90% of the time so.

THANK U THANK U THANK U I LOVE U SM

will gladly take you up on the offer 💌 but on the real, THANK U SO SO MUCHHHHH

so real of you though bc he gives me hyperfixation too. chapters lately have only been so long or thought out because I think about him 24/7.

I am cooking some INSANE stuff like I need to chill out in the brain. it's giving method acting level "that was so unnecessary you did not need to write that" but here we are.

today I looked at the masterlist and realized the content tag said "light angst".....so I definitely need to go change that LMFAO.

this is also old. BUT APOLOGIES! do hope you loved the sammy arc bc as a girl with a big sister I LIVE FOR THE SAMMY ARC!

correct. they also do that one where you paint each other but y/n paints him really good and he just paints her as the babadook.

oh. my. goodness. YOU ARE AMAZING!!!

first of all, appreciate so bad that you don't comment about chapter updates. i gets lots of asks (both polite but also some that are kind of demanding) about when i post chapters but i appreciate that you just pop out and read when i'm ready to write.

i saw a post today about how people treat fic writers on this app like influencers, how there's an expectation to always be producing that comes with that short attention span content type relationship and i can't stop thinking about it. i do really think that my best work comes out of me being able to sit on it, think about it until i am ready to put it out (and I hope that it shows in the quality of the work that i'm trying to put my best foot forward instead of uploading all the time)

i am also just a girl™️ college is stressful, life is stressful, sometimes there's a lot going on and i disappear for a few weeks so i appreciate you always coming back when i'm ready!

and UGH thank you so much about the comments about the past and overcoming it. i've said this before but a lot of sukuna's past but also y/n's is from stuff that is quite literally me pulling the crazy thoughts out of my brain and putting it out there. even though what's happening in the fic isn't really happening to me, it does somehow make those types of things so much better for me when people send me sweet stuff like this and tell me that it makes them feel seen, or they feel things, because it makes me feel warm that I was somehow able to make all that pain worth it for someone else, even if it is in a silly little fanfiction. IDK im getting emotional tomorrow is the one year anniversary of me starting my silly little blog so im thinking lots of thoughts.

AND I LOVE YOU!

(I ignored all the asks about posting another chapter bc I already posted the new chapter LOL)

#asks! #bsfs older brother sukuna!

[chronicbeans]

I'm sorry if I'm bothering you but can I please ask for a yandere Ren from Persona 5 with a Yuutsu darling

And where he starts to grow attached to her and one day he confesses his feelings and she accepts but on the condition he'll marry her

Yuutsu is an OC of mine and you can find more information on her at my posts here on Tumblr I'm sorry if this sounds weird and you don't have to take this request if you don't want to

Of course! I'll try my best, since this is my first time writing for an OC that isn't my own. From what I could gather, she seems like a very soft-spoken and nice person, that is willing to put others over herself. If this isn't entirely accurate, I apologize!

Of course, just so everyone knows, Yuutsu belongs to the lovely @nunezs-stuff !

Yandere Ren Amamiya x Yuutsu (OC)

TW: Stalking, Mentions of Past Abuse, False Criminal Accusations, Bullying, Intimidation

It was entirely a coincidence that Ren met Yuutsu that day. Being extremely late to the first day of school does make it harder to properly meet your classmates, as well as secure a poor first impression, but Yuutsu seemed to not only be happy to meet him... But completely alright with his tardiness and the unsavory rumors floating about. A girl as soft-spoken as her having no problem with such a disturbing rumor about him was a shock, to say the least, for Ren. That, and the fact that she seemed to go out of her way at times to talk with him.

Asking how he is feeling, making sure the rumors aren't getting to him, and even asking for the truth from HIM. Not from the teachers, not from the other students, but the center of attention, himself. When he explained how the accusations against him were false, but he was still charged for the crime, he was sure Yuutsu wouldn't believe him... but she did. She did, and it struck a chord somewhere inside of him. An odd chord that made his heart flutter, as if a million pink butterflies made a home inside of it, and it was ready to burst at any moment.

Once that chord was struck, he started acting different. When the teachers would mention anything about her hair being dyed, he defended Yuutsu. She is expressing herself. Her outfits and hair hold no weight in whether or not she gets good grades, so why should it matter? She's doing well in school, as far as he knows, so it clearly isn't holding her back. Any student who says a thing wrong about her gets intimidated by him. Sure, he may not LOOK tough, but he has a criminal record. Even if Yuutsu knows that he didn't commit the crime, most of the other students don't. As far as they know, when they see him march up to them and give them a stern talking to, it's the equivalent of a thug approaching them to beat them down. No one will say a word about her, her interests, or anything else revolving around her on his watch.

Wherever Yuutsu goes, Ren follows. If the school schedule and Cafe Leblanc' opening and closing times don't get in the way, he will be there. In fact, he may even invite her to try out some of the coffee and curry at Cafe Leblanc. He doesn't see why not... It would save him the time of finding out her schedule, then finding her wherever she is at to go see her.

When he unlocks his persona and the ability to go into the Metaverse, everything gets worse. He now has a tool which could be used to get to know her, without having to follow her around. He'll do as much digging as the Metaverse let's him. Does Yuutsu have a shadow in the Metaverse? Does she have a palace? If so, what is it? What caused it? What can he learn about her from it?

It's at this point, Yuutsu most likely realizes that something is off. Ren looks more tired than usual. He seems to know more about her than he should. She never told him about what her parents did. About the horrible expectations they forced upon her, or what happened with her mother. Ren knows, however, having slipped up when trying to get her to relax and take a break from studying before she hurts herself. After having enough of... whatever was happening, she decides to confront him about it.

Sitting in a booth at Cafe Leblanc, she pops a question "Ren, we are friends, right? Can you tell me how you know about my parents. I don't remember telling you about them." Everything is silent, before she opens her mouth to repeat the question, wondering if he just didn't hear her. She's proven wrong, however, when Ren cuts her off.

"Look... Yuutsu, I know I'm not the most exciting guy. If anything, I'd say I'm pretty ordinary compared to a few of our classmates. I have my ways of figuring things out, however, that I can't really explain... If I tried, I am pretty sure you wouldn't believe me. I can tell you WHY I learned about your parents, though." He makes his way out from behind the counter, continuing to speak as he sits down across from her. "I love you. I love you so much. You are so kind, no matter what happens. You accept those that don't fit in with what society considers normal or decent. You dress how you want, act how you want, and pay no mind to those who tell you not to do that. I love you, so much, I can't even describe it. I think about you everyday, worrying about you, and try my best to do what I can to help you when you are in need. I love you, Yuutsu."

She tenses as he suddenly places his hand on top of hers, finishing his confession by saying "I wanted to make sure everything was okay at home. Now that I know the struggle you have gone through, alongside the fact that you have stayed so kind when some others let those experiences change them for the worst, I find you even more beautiful than before. Yuutsu, will you please be my girlfriend?"

There is a thick silence in the air. For a second, Ren fears the worst: she'll reject him- no, she'll FEAR him. She'll FEAR him like all the others in their school. However, she shocks him. Instead of saying something like "No... you're scaring me." or "Get away from me! How did you get that information?!", she looks him in the eyes, making a proposition.

"I'll be your girlfriend, if we get married in the future. The near future, preferably. Marriage is very important to me, so I want to make sure our priorities when it comes to our relationship don't conflict."

His eyes widen, a grin forming as he quickly responds "Of course! That's what I was hoping to hear, actually! I'd love to get married! Should we start planning now, so we can be prepared for when we can afford it? I'll even make a savings account for it. I love you so much, I can't wait to get married!"

#Persona 5 #persona 5 royal #persona 5 ren #ren amamiya #canon x oc #yandere persona 5

[bebepac]

Six Sentence Sunday 03.26.23

Ooooh. Boy..  Here we go.  Some of you all may remember this chick.  Well she’s back messing with stuff again.  I apologize in advance for some of the snippets you’re going to see today.  

Things I’ve written lately: 

The Cordonian Arrangement: Shattered Heart

The Cordonian Arrangement: Memories of You

The Vampires Live On: Part 3

Original Post: 03/26/23 at 8:01PM EST

The Book: TRR  Chapter 8: Garden Party Photo Op Series:  The Life Of Riley: Book 2 Pairings: Liam x Riley Status: Still in the writing process.  

Special Request  fic :)   and has a companion chapter to Heroes and Villians

She smiled when she woke up yet again, amongst the soft plush covers and mattress that felt like she was sleeping on clouds.   Opening her eyes, she glanced around the ornately decorated room. Waking up there every morning  always felt like she was in a dream.  She jumped up ,from her bed running  over to the balcony, throwing open the doors, as if she expected the gardens below not to be visible.  But it was, every single morning.  She had been in Cordonia a little more than three weeks; the ending of the first week at the palace where she was participating in Prince Liam’s social season.  She was living her own Cinderella story thanks to Prince Liam Rys, who after spending the night with her in New York, asked her to come visit him in Cordonia for a week, and then asked her to stay..

She was not the only one living their own Cinderella story that had Liam to thank.  A young Nicolas Karahalios had everything he owned packed in a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and was standing at the palace gates waiting for entry.

“Full name, and state your business at the palace.”  

“Karahalios, Nicolas A. I’m training for the Kingsguard.”  

The sentry took out a clip board and scrolled through the names.  Nico sighed in relief when the guard picked up a pen and checked his name off the list.

“Right on time,  head through those double doors there to take your photo for your level two identification, and from there, you’ll go to uniforms for your cadet attire.”

“Thank you.”  

“Good luck, kid.”  The guard nodded to him, opening the gate.  

“Thank you, Sir!”  

Nico slid the strap of his bag up higher on his shoulder and stood in amazement as the palace gates opened for him. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Nico was officially on palace soil for the first time.  

“Come in Maxwell!”  Riley said when she heard his knock.  

Maxwell smiled as he walked through the door.

“You know, we have to stop meeting this way.”  

Maxwell laughed  but the door remained open for Bertrand to walk through.   Riley tried to hide her annoyance.

“Yes Bertrand, what did I do wrong now?”  

He looked her over.  

“Nothing that I can tell as of yet, but you did just wake up, which already means you have a late start.”  

“Still getting used to the time difference.”  

“That didn’t matter last night when you were at the dive bar drinking with Drake Walker acting like you’re still a college student.”  

“You’re acting like your brother Maxwell wasn’t there too.”

“Little Blossom! Way to throw me under the bus!”

“I feel like I’m the only one taking this whole arrangement seriously, keeping you two in check is like herding cats.”  

“Meow.”  

Maxwell chuckled.  

“Do not encourage her Maxwell.”  

The Book:  TRR Part 4: The Vampires Live On Series:  The Vampires Live On Pairings:  Liam x Riley (in this decade)  Gabriel x Alice in the past. Status: Still in the writing process.

Gabriel consoled me as I cried.  

“Are you happy we made it here?”

“Very happy. I promise these are happy tears.   I felt like I was robbed of the opportunity to give her a proper goodbye.”

Gabriel looked visibly hurt by my words. I grabbed his arm to reassure him.  

“It was not your fault, you did what you had to do to keep me safe, to keep us safe.  I understand why you did it.  Though, it still does not sway how I felt and have felt all of these years.  The world should be more evolved, and it’s not. And because it wasn’t, I couldn’t even say a proper farewell to my sister, when I really needed to do it.”  

“The world never changes. Yes, there is a lot more technology now that has made life remarkably easier, but the core of people… never change.  I have walked this earth for long enough to realize that.”

“The things you’ve seen I can’t even imagine, especially in the earlier years.”

“Yes, it was quite a different time. I must leave for a little bit, but I will return shortly, then we will go out for dinner.”  

From the time Gabriel left to the time he returned all I had thought about was Clara and the picture of the two of us.

“I have a present for you.”  

He held out a small wrapped box for me to take.  

“What is this?”  

“Something you really wanted, and deserved to have.”  

“This is so sweet.”  

When I tore open the box, inside, was the framed picture of me and Clara.

“Gabriel….”  

“You deserve more than just to see Clara in only your dreams. This picture should lie with her family and now it does,  and if you look closely, you can see Maxwell in it as well, and he’s looking at Clara, smiling.”  

“He loved her so much.”

“He did. And you can see it as clear as day here.”

The Book: TRF Part 8:  Where Do We Go From Here? The Series:  The Cordonian Arrangement Pairings  Former Riley x Nico (Riley X M!OC)  Liam x Riley? Status:  Still in the writing process.

It was barely dawn and the sun was only creeping slightly through the windows. When she moved, his embrace tightened, pulling her back close to him, leaning in, to kiss her neck. Still waking from her slumber, it felt like a typical morning  that she had lived every day when waking in his arms was commonplace. Riley moaned softly as he continued to gently nibble her neck, pressing her body into his.

“Let’s stay in bed.  Don’t go…." she mumbled in her sleep. “Stay with me.”  

“Always.”  

His voice made her immediately  leave that place of pre woke slumber to soberingly wide awake, quickly pulling away from him.

“Liam….”  

Fully awake, all the memories of the last few months, and from last night flooded back to her in a wave.

Observing the shock and almost disappointment in her eyes, shielding her bare body from him with the sheet, Liam knew.  

“That wasn’t intended for me, was it?”

She didn’t want to lie to him, and she couldn’t look him in the face either.

“No… I’m…. sorry….” She headed towards the door still draped in the sheet from the bed.

“Riley, we need to talk about this.  There’s a reason you came to me last night. It felt right for us to be together that way.”  

“For a brief second, this morning I forgot the horror that has been these last 3 months that has been my life.  Last night, I was lonely… I wanted to feel…. Connected to someone again. I didn’t  mean to give you the wrong idea.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No… I don’t regret it… but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a mistake.  It was a mistake Liam.  We have way too much history for me to think that you would simply be okay with this.”

“We made love last night Riley.”

“We… didn’t.  It was just sex.  I’m still in love with my husband.” Glancing down at her ring on her finger that she was still wearing.

“Your husband is dead.”  

Riley gasped in shock.  Liam immediately wanted to take the words back.  

“Who are you?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like it came out Riley. Forgive me, I didn’t mean it Riley. I promise you I didn’t.”

“Get out of my house.”

“Riley…. We’re supposed to take Angelo to the zoo today.”  

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW!!!!”

#bebepac writes #six sentence sunday #always more than six #cfwc sunday six #the cordonian arrangement #the vampires live on #the life of riley #riley goes to cordonia #heroes and villans #choices fanfiction #trr fanfic #trr fandom #liam x riley #riley x nico #liam and riley throughout the centuries

[luciehercndale]

Congrats 🎉💜 How about "You are my family" with Blackdale? 🤗

I really hope you like this 🥰 You are one of the few people I know who gets them the same way as I do, and I hope this will bring you happiness. It has a little hurt/comfort in it, but also parallels with TDA, so I think you would like it ✨👀🫶🏻

Read on AO3

For the Ghost That I Used To Be

London, 1904

“I feel like I should go to Chiswick,” Jesse announced to Lucie as they lounged on the loveseat by the window of his bedroom, after a long day he spent outside helping her father. “To, you know, sort things out. Or whatever is left of them.” 

It was not too long after Belial had been defeated, and that everyone had reunited in the gardens of what used to be Jesse’s house to bury things from their past. They all knew that they would never truly move on, but they were trying to. They had to try. Some moved on with their significant others. While some others, like his dear sister Grace, by putting her passion into science. 

“Do you think there is something left to save there?” Lucie inquired, dubious. “The place is in ruins, and I wonder if Tat-, your mother –” she shook her head and sighed. “That woman didn’t get rid of stuff that belonged to you or to your sister while you were away.” 

Every time she had to say Tatiana Blackthorn’s name, she didn’t know how to address her. That woman didn’t deserve to be acknowledged as his or Grace’s mother, because she never acted like a mother throughout their lives. Lucie tried as much as she could to avoid speaking about her, unless it was Jesse who mentioned her during a conversation, which was rare. 

“You can say her name, Lucie,” Jesse said earnestly, his expression neutral. 

Lucie opened her mouth to talk, but only a sigh came out, as if she wanted to say something but thought it was better not to. “I’m sorry, Jesse, but,” she bit her lip to silence herself. Instead of continuing, she took his hand.

 “What are you apologizing for?” he squinted at her. “You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“You don’t want her name to come up in conversation, and as much as it is thoughtful and sweet, and you don’t want me to get hurt, I,” he inclined his head and a hint of a smile appeared on his lips, “can handle the truth, nor I don’t want to be protected from it. Tatiana Blackthorn was an awful human being and even though I would’ve left her to rot in an isolated jail cell in the Silent City instead of killing her, death is what she deserves for what she did.”

“Would you have spared her, why?” Lucie raised her voice, suddenly curious. They had never discussed the topic too much and she never dared to ask about that in casual conversation. She expected him to talk when and if he was ready. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

Jesse frowned, and held his breath, his lips pursed. Lucie could tell it wasn’t easy for him, and she kept holding his hand, the summer breeze ruffling his dark hair off his forehead. 

I am here if you want to open up. I am willing to listen. I am willing to be a safe harbor for you. I am willing to let you cry on my shoulder if you need to. I’m willing to love you twice as much as that woman should’ve loved you. Even more. I would love you…

“I do not condone anything she did,” he began, gazing up at her, looking her in the eyes. “But I do believe in mercy. Sparing someone’s life not as an act of forgiveness, but of penance. Death is easy,” he wrinkled his nose disapprovingly. “It doesn’t matter how painful it is that you die, peace comes at some point, for most,” he forced a smile, and Lucie knew he was talking about himself too, and about his seven years stuck on the threshold between peace and misery. All because of his own mother, who had waited for the moment he would be old enough so his body could sustain the parasite. Belial. “You’re a corpse. You cannot atone for your sins, if you die, can you?” he asked rhetorically. “While if you live,” he heaved a deep sigh, and his voice came out uncharacteristically detached and far away, cold. “You will live the rest of your life with your guilt, haunted by the ghost of what you did. I find it the most effective punishment.”

“I know you would’ve stopped her if you could have,” Lucie moved closer to him and started stroking his back, feeling the tension in his bones as she did so, trying to ease some of it with her touch. 

“What angers me the most is that the Clave had evidence to shackle her, to indict her, to even banish her –” he glanced up, his tone bitter. His shoulders shook, and when he turned to her, his eyes had a haunted look. “If only I hadn’t been stubborn, they could’ve stopped her.”

The pale glow of the night behind him made him look ghostly again, but also ethereal. A boy who defeated death and came back stronger. A boy who barely showed his resentment, although Lucie knew, he still harbored some in the depths of his soul. Some of his frustration was also aimed at himself, for not having been there physically to stop his mother. For being left in the dark about it all.

He probably still blamed himself for wanting to become a shadowhunter, and the angelic magic clashing with what was inside of him, leading him to his death. His uselessness as a ghost. That was what he meant with his last sentence, and Lucie’s heart grieved for him. She loved him so much and it destroyed her when he felt like this. But it also made her fist clench in anger because of Tatiana, who didn’t just ruin Jesse’s life, but the lives of many others. 

Lucie understood him well, even though there were sides to him that she still didn’t know, and that she was still learning day after day. Jesse didn’t show much of a temper because he knew how to manage his indignation well, but that wouldn’t disappear overnight. And it was the reason Lucie probably avoided the topic. It wasn’t easy to discuss, it didn’t matter that he was confident that he could handle it. 

“Alas, we will never know that,” Lucie replied sincerely. “They could’ve still favored her. In the eyes of the Clave, she was the one who had been wronged, and she knew how to plead her case,” she said firmly, trying not to shake with fury. “Even if you had been alive at the time, and tried to stop her, I’m sure she would’ve found something so she could throw you to the wolves.”

Jesse’s face fell. She didn’t mean to be too blunt, but he needed to know, since they were talking. “I assume you’re right,” he told her after a long beat. “I think you are right, Lucie. I –” he took in a sharp breath, “I was always meant to be none other than a pawn in her revenge. Mistook her refusal for me to join the shadowhunters as a way for her to protect me from those she said hurt her the most. For love,” he said, dejected. “When in truth, I was one of her means for revenge. One of her possessions.”

Tears welled up in his eyes and she gently started wiping them with her fingers. He closed his eyes, and leaned his cheek into her hand. She drove his face to her shoulder, and he nestled his cheek there. There was so much Lucie wanted to say to him. Yet, she thought everything she wanted to tell him came down to the only words that encompassed all the possible sentences that ran in her head. “I love you, Jesse. I love you.” 

He wept silently until he had enough. Lucie stood beside him on the loveseat, threading her fingers in his hair, trying to soothe him, to tell him it was okay. She didn’t know how much time they had been there. The door to his bedroom was not completely shut, and she wondered if her parents might have come to check on them, and heard him cry. 

“I believe that I can still find some of my belongings and family heirlooms at Chiswick,” Jesse whispered after a while, his head still on her shoulder. Lucie nodded. “And if we don’t, it won’t matter.”

“We can go whenever you feel like it,” Lucie answered quietly, her hand quietly caressing his hair. She wanted to add if you want me to come with you, but she thought it was a given. 

“We can go the day after tomorrow, at noon,” he told her. “With the light.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” she agreed, and kissed the top of his head. 

While in bed that night, Lucie thought about everything that she and Jesse had talked about, and decided that the only thing she could be thankful to Tatiana Blackthorn for was that she gave birth to him. If it was for her, she would’ve killed her several times, or made a voodoo doll to inflict pain on her. Not only because she had sent Jesse to his death. Because she had also destroyed Grace’s life, because she had killed Christopher. Because she decided to burn all the bridges her uncles had tried to build to reach her. She hoped that Jesse could find closure someday. She would try to show him the love she thought he deserved.

Chiswick was even messier than how Lucie remembered. She recalled the last time they went there. Everyone had gathered to bury things they wanted to leave in the past. It was a symbolic action to mean a new beginning for everyone. It didn’t magically erase what had happened, no enchantment could. Trying to start anew was the only option in order to survive. 

Jesse immersed himself completely in his new life as a shadowhunter. He often helped around the Institute, and Will and Tessa also started mentoring him because they noticed he could follow in their footsteps in the future. Of this, Lucie was ecstatic. More than half a year before he didn’t have a future, and knowing he could potentially get her parents’ position someday made her happy. 

She grinned, and looked up at Jesse as they entered the main foyer of the house. She held his hand – something they both liked to do whenever they were out together – and she tightened her grip on an instinct when they crossed the threshold. Jesse exchanged her smile, but Lucie could tell he was a little on edge. They never returned to this place after they buried their belongings, and, without anyone taking care of the house, it gathered even more dust. 

“We should start looking in my grandfather’s study,” Jesse announced, and lead the way. 

Several hours later, they gathered some things that Jesse thought were worth taking away. A couple of old books he had cherished. Some other things he used while he was little. The rest, they arranged on a table but they were unsure whether they needed them or not. 

“I wonder what this is doing here,” Lucie said when they were looking in the attic, where Jesse told her he used to hide most of the things he didn’t want his mother to find as a child. She showed the portrait she had found to him. “I think this is her,” she told Jesse. 

“Her, who? She does look like a Blackthorn, but I don’t know her. Her portrait was never hung on the wall with the others.”

“Annabel,” Lucie whispered, looking at the back of the portrait. There was a date scribbled over, perhaps of when the artist had painted her. “The woman Malcolm used to love.”

“Oh, that Annabel,” he asserted, frowning at his girlfriend. “The one you wanted to find for him.” 

Lucie nodded, glancing at the portrait. She told Jesse about her promise to Malcolm and how she couldn’t fulfill it because she lost her power. She waited to tell him because she thought it wasn’t important, since she couldn’t keep her promise anyway, and it wasn’t like the warlock had helped raise him. That was the original pact. 

But then she realized that she didn’t want to keep things from Jesse, who was reserved but always sincere. To her, a good relationship needed to be built on mutual trust and honesty, which she believed they had. Her secret with Malcolm was the only thing she had kept from him, and she felt the need to free herself from the weight of it.

“I wanted to help Malcolm,” Lucie admitted, her hands twisting on her lap. “I could’ve helped him like I helped you.”

“I’m sure you would have,” Jesse tensed in his seat, and he sighed in frustration. “What could’ve happened to you, if you had? You’ve slept for days after you raised me. Occasionally waking up but still unconscious,” he closed his eyes briefly, the memory of that time in Cornwall still haunted him to this day. “I could have lost you,” he said in a broken voice, flinching, as if only thinking about that made him panic. “You could have gotten hurt,” he added, shaking his head again.

She knew he would get upset. He didn’t want Lucie to risk her life to bring back someone else. She already risked enough for trying with him, and even if he was thankful, he would’ve never wanted her to try again. 

“Yes, your ancestor,” Lucie continued. “Oh, there is something here,” she realized, touching the back of the portrait. A tiny wooden box was built behind the canvas, which opened when she picked on the lock. “I wonder what this is,” she said, picking up a small leather bound book. 

Jesse came closer and he started looking. “This looks like a diary,” he said, opening the first page. “No, it isn’t,” he corrected himself. “It is a poem. A poem by Edgar Allan Poe. He is a mundane poet.”

Lucie peered at the small volume. “My parents would be delighted to see this,” she marveled at the precise scribbles. “It is a poem, indeed. What’s the name? Annabel… Lee,” she gazed at Jesse, who wore the same surprised expression as hers. “Could have been…?”

“Written by Poe to that Annabel? I don’t have a clue,” he shrugged. “But anything is possible. Otherwise, why would it be hidden behind her portrait?”

“And, most of all, who could have hid it here?” Lucie inquired, trying to make an impression of the famous character Sherlock Holmes, a detective written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. 

“Give it to the members of the Blackthorn family to still make noise even after they’re dead,” Jesse remarked with a giggle. “What an astounding family.”

They laughed together, and it was liberating. She was afraid that it would be hard to be in his old house, surrounded by a lot of things which used to belong to his family. And indeed, she knew that it wasn’t easy for him. But at least, the mood had softened and Lucie thought that Jesse seemed relaxed after their latest find, and she was glad of it. 

“Can I keep the poem, Jesse?” Lucie asked when they finally gathered everything he meant to take with him to the London Institute. She was a little shy about asking, mostly considering their past talk about Annabel, but she still took her chances. The worse he could do would be saying no, which she would completely understand.

Jesse didn’t seem to be taken aback by the request. “I can already see your mind spinning, Lucie,” he declared, the corners of his mouth turned up into a sincere grin, which made Lucie’s cheeks flush with heat. “Keep it, if you like it. I don’t mind.”

Lucie beamed at his consent, and pushed herself up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. She put the small volume in the pocket of her dress for safekeeping, and then, they left.

London, 1910

During the first weeks at the Institute, several years before, Jesse tried to get used to living again. He kept himself busy, tried to distract himself from the reality of this new life, and from the overwhelming sensation of being seen. He didn’t mind being around Lucie and her parents. They respected his space and he was sure they knew how to read his mood and dealt with him accordingly. They respected him and he respected them, and always made him feel like part of their family.

Jesse remembered when he gathered the courage to go to Chiswick, and told Lucie about it. And the conversation diverted on the topic of his mother, and he broke down in front of his beloved girl, who carefully avoided talking about Tatiana not to trigger him. She was a sensitive topic, but he realized that, in order to move on, he needed to face his demons, and that included his wicked and loveless mother and the house that she had turned into his prison for years. 

They had been there before, when everyone decided to bury their belongings which were a symbol of the life they wanted to leave behind. Jesse had left his coffin behind, as he didn’t need it anymore, but he had also asked himself whether or not he would be able to move on from that part of his existence where his life couldn’t be defined as such. “It was the ghost of a life”, Lucie told him on a warm afternoon, while they discussed one of her new writing projects. “And now the ghost is finally living his life,” she added. “This is a hopeful story.”

Chiswick hadn’t changed, if not for the excess of dust covering all the surfaces like the eerie cloth of an unkind ghost. The wind, now gentle, now strong, found its way through the broken shutters, and graced the furniture with fresh air in a place otherwise dead. 

Jesse hadn’t been shocked to find his old house in such ruins. On the other hand, he thought it would be in worse condition. He considered this place lost. He hadn’t wanted to go back, but he felt like he needed to. He needed closure, and he was puzzled to see the remnants of his previous life were still there, laying untouched in the attic. Lucie also found a tiny volume with a poem, and it was part of the reason they were there that night.

As one would expect from the heads of the London Institute, there would always be some party to attend, or some people who wanted to meet him. He didn’t mind being around people, but he needed to manage the amount of time he was around people. There were some occasions when he just couldn’t bear to be among the throngs of shadowhunters, and had to catch a break. 

It didn’t happen as often now, but tonight, because of the special occasion they were celebrating, Will and Tessa had invited even more people than usual. He would hide in an alcove next to the ballroom or on the balcony, where he knew people didn’t like to venture when there was music and drinks and food in the party room. He liked the balcony, and appreciated the breath of fresh air that would breeze when out on one, without the constraints of the frame of a window. 

And Lucie always found him. They were like magnets, attracted to each other like opposite poles. He also felt that pull with her. He sensed where she was, when they were in a crowded room. He would smile at her and she would smile at him in acknowledgment. And her presence would calm him, tether him to the here and now. To the world of the living.

“Found you,” she told him playfully, not too long after he fled the ballroom teeming with inebriated shadowhunters. “Is everything okay, Jesse? You seemed distressed.”

“I am,” he decided not to lie to her. “I just feel like –”

“Like this is too much?”

“It is,” he revealed. “Too many people tonight. I just needed to catch my breath and then I would return. And this balcony is the perfect place.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Not at all,” he offered her a smile. “Come here,” he opened his arm, and she nestled close to him, placing her hand on one of the lapels of his jacket. “This is much better,” he said, and secured his hand on her shoulder, lingering on Lucie’s sheer-covered arm.

“This place is the best to take a breather,” Lucie observed quietly. “I was also getting fed with people in the other room. Rosamund Wenthworth wouldn’t stop asking me where I found the material for my work, which, surprisingly, she said she enjoyed.”

“Congratulations for making Rosamund enjoy something,” Jesse commented, remembering how Lucie told him that Rosamund and her brother used to mock her for having a ghost as a friend. If Lucie didn’t like befriending ghosts, he probably wouldn’t be here today. “She and her lot seem hard to please, but they do like to intrude in people’s lives. She once cornered me to ask me about Chiswick and how I used to live there,” he huffed. “Since, according to the stories she’d heard, we only ate what grew in the greenhouse.”

“That’s such an insensitive question,” Lucie was outraged, and Jesse could only grin wider. “If only I had been there! But she doesn’t dare to say those things in front of me,” she snorted. He knew she would fight all the Rosamunds in the world for him, and his heart filled up with so much love just thinking about that. “What did you say?”

“I didn’t want to be disrespectful, so I replied that regrettably, the story she knew was incorrect,” he declared proudly. “We didn’t just eat the crops that grew in the greenhouse, we also sowed them. Unfortunately, it was just corn and beans.”

“Jesse!” Lucie objected, glancing up at him. He was laughing. “I wouldn’t come up with a better answer, if I tried. It’s easy to poke fun at Rosamund. She believes in everything you say,” she observed. “She tries to flirt, even,” she rolled her eyes. “When she has a husband and a child.”

“I don’t know about that,” his eyes sparkled with amusement at Lucie, who was rarely jealous. “Well, if she ever did, the joke is on her. I am happily taken, and I’m sure the guests your parents gathered here tonight also know it, Rosamund included.”

“She better,” Lucie smiled at him, content, nestling her head back under his welcoming arm. They stayed in silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company and warmth. “This balcony didn’t exist before my parents started working here,” Lucie said suddenly. “When I was a child, I wondered why. It is uncommon to have balconies in Institutes, since they’re often churches. They’re more common in mansions or other private houses.”

“There are balconies at Chiswick,” Jesse said, and Lucie nodded, gazing up at him. “I even remember you sneaking in from one, when I was still a ghost.”

“I did,” she bit her lip, blushing. “By the way, I overheard my parents talk one day, and found out the reason they wanted a balcony so bad. You wouldn’t believe it.”

“The view is great?” Jesse wondered rhetorically, and Lucie shook her head. “But the view is indeed great, I have to admit it,” he said, maintaining eye contact with her. 

“I agree,” she beamed at him. “Other than that, I reckon that they’re very fond of balconies because,” she took a moment to say it, “they shared their first real kiss on one of the balconies at Chiswick. My papa’s words, not mine.”

“Ah,” Jesse said. “Now that you mention it, I can see the appeal,” he tilted his head to the side, and she couldn’t read his expression clearly. “It is indeed a private enough place for frolicking. It makes me want to kiss you.”

“Then,” Lucie muttered, “what are you waiting for?”

He made a quiet giggle of amusement and then his expression turned serious, yet sweet, as if he was trying to keep her face in his memory before closing his eyes and meeting her lips with his own. Lucie, still trying to hide in the warmth of his jacket, hugged his torso and clung on the back of his shirt. His hand cupped the side of her jaw and they shared a tender kiss which gradually grew in rhythm.  

“Perhaps we should go back inside,” he said placidly, tracing her cheek with his finger after the kiss. “Your skin is cold and your father must request our presence to cut the cake.”

Lucie huffed, still reeling from the kiss, and she tightened her hold on him. “You’re right,” she nodded. “Particularly considering that I am one of the guests of honor.”

“And you spent the last half hour with your socially anxious future husband on a balcony,” Jesse interjected with a raised eyebrow, apologetic, as the two went inside and walked towards the ballroom. “The other guest of honor.” A mix of cheerful and shouting voices could be heard from there. At least, people were enjoying themselves. 

Lucie smiled and halted her step, needing to tell him one thing before they would have to go back into the crowd of friends and family. “I’ll tell them to leave once everyone eats the engagement cake,” she promised him, fixing his tie as she spoke. “Then we can go on the balcony again, if you like. My parents wouldn’t object, since this is our night.”

Jesse nodded. “It’s too cold outside, maybe we should retreat somewhere else? We can decide later.”

“Yes, anything you want,” she said. “Jesse, did you ever –”

“Oh, I found you!” a small girl’s voice interrupted their talking. It was Cordelia and James’ younger daughter Layla. “Grandpa Will asked me to look for you!”

“Dear, did they send you by yourself? Where is your mama?” Lucie wondered, lowering to the child’s height. 

“She also asked me to look for you, saying that they were waiting for you and uncle Jesse to cut the cake! You must hurry, or we will eat everything!” Layla grabbed Lucie’s hand and she grabbed Jesse’s, their conversation cut but far from over. 

It was roughly around eleven that all their guests finally left, and only the inhabitants of the London Institute stayed behind. Will and Tessa had retreated to their room, and they told Lucie and Jesse not to stay up too late, which was something they often said out of habit, as if they were still children. Lucie was sure they would tell them even after they would become man and wife, and she didn’t mind it. She was lucky that both her parents were alive and well, and she cherished every moment with them. Not many people could say the same. 

In the end, they went into the game room. It wasn’t one of Lucie’s favorites, but the fireplace was larger than the one in their rooms and she was in need of warmth. Well, she was warm, if they asked her, but more heat wouldn’t hurt. She outstretched her arms so she could feel the heat on her palms. 

“Tonight was amazing,” Lucie commented, feeling peaceful and at ease. Jesse was in his shirtsleeves, while she still wore her evening dress. She wondered if he was as warm as she was. “I can’t believe we are finally engaged,” her tone was jovial. She glanced at her hand again, a spark of giddiness filling her heart at the sight of her ring. 

Jesse grabbed her hand and glanced at the ring he had picked. “You are breathtaking, if I haven’t told you already,” he complimented her, and she turned red. For the record, he had told her too many times to count, but he still loved to say it and for her to hear it. 

“You look good yourself,” Lucie took him all in, taking in his green eyes and their contrast with his black hair. “I can’t believe mam invited all those people, and they all came,” she leaned on the pool table, the balls scattered in different directions because somebody had probably played while the party went on and forgot to rearrange them. 

“Your parents are influential,” Jesse said. “Even those who might not approve of their union must know that it is better to keep them as friends and not foes,” he shrugged. “Even Rosamund and Thoby know.”

Lucie nodded, lost in thought. “I’m still blown away that she liked my book,” she rolled her eyes. “That anybody in that room who has read it, told me nice words about my book,” she rubbed her hands together, still in disbelief. 

“Why wouldn’t they,” Jesse held her chin between his fingers, stroking the side of her jaw. “You’ve written many things throughout the years we’ve been together. And I don’t want to pick a favorite among your writing, but to me, this is the finest. Maybe you were meant to write for children.”

“If you told me five years ago that my first published work would be a collection of shadowhunter tales for children, I wouldn’t have believed you,” she said, delighted. “And it is you I have to thank,” she stared at Jesse. “I’m beyond grateful that you let me use the book we found behind Annabel’s portrait. It was a way to remember her, since I couldn’t help her case.”

“To be fair, you didn’t need my consent to write your story,” he replied. “I still have no clue as to why the volume was behind the portrait, nor who put it there. The poem is of public domain. It was published in a newspaper, so it isn’t a secret,” he raised an eyebrow and gave her half a shrug. “I, along with Grace, are the only Blackthorns left in London. It is a great responsibility, carrying this name” he said solemnly. “You are my family, Lucie,” he offered her a smile, and held her hand. “Grace, your parents, my uncles and aunts, they are also my family. But when we get married, and after then, someday,” his eyes filled with affection and devotion, “my family will also be our children. Any children who would want to join us.”

Lucie couldn’t help but give him a wide smile. “Are you thinking about a number? Because I suggest we should have one child for every year you couldn’t fully live. So, seven children.”

“Are you sure? Half the job is mine,” he raised his eyebrows. “But you will have to carry them for nine months. It’s over half a year and –”

“I was joking,” Lucie giggled. “Not about having kids. I love children,” she grinned. “And I would love to have kids with you, someday. I can’t wait to start our own family. Fill the Institute or wherever you want to live with lots of Blackthorn children.”

He blushed, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. “Blackthorn children who we will read your shadowhunters tales to,” he fixed a strand of hair behind her ear. “And the best books in English literature but also of literature from all over the world.”

“And who we will teach how to spar in a duel and all the names of the different demons they may encounter at night,” she said, putting her hands behind his neck. “Including ghosts.”

“Here I thought you loved ghosts,” he said. “I’m offended.”

“What if I kissed you for offending you?” she raised an eyebrow alluringly. “Even though you are not a ghost anymore.”

“You can do it for the ghost that I used to be,” he answered. “And I’m not anymore. But please, hurry. Or I’m going to kiss you first.”

He didn’t have to ask her twice.  Lucie smirked, and soon her lips found his, joined in the perfect conclusion to an already flawless night.  

Hi! Thanks for reading everything. I hope you noticed the parallels I wanted to make, especially with Jesse and Lucie being the Blackthorns who will began the new legacy of the family once they're married. And also with Lucie writing the children's stories that we see Tavvy Blackthorn has in TDA :) I thought it would be nice if she found Poe's work and turned Annabel into a magical heroine in order to remember her, just like she did with Jesse when he used to be a ghost. I planned to add a bonus scene where Lucie and Jesse talk about her pact with Malcolm, but I will post it tomorrow, I think. I hope you enjoyed this one! I'd love to hear your thoughts <3

#tsc fan fiction #tsc fanfiction #tsc #tlh #lucie herondale #jesse blackthorn #lucie and jesse #blackdale #ghostwriter #the last hours #chain of thorns #chain of iron #chain of gold #tweety's celebration #tweety.writes

[campoverlook-if]

Can you make the same prompt for Oliver as you did to Lucas and Ezra please?

After thirty years, I’ve finally answered this ask. Apologies anon, please accept this extra long text as my offering to you. (I’msoserious this is so long for no reason, I just started writing and kept going...)

OLIVER - You and Oliver are hanging around the lodge, away from the rest of the camp…

The sound of Mr. Adams guitar softly fades the farther you and Oliver travel away from the big campfire. The group camaraderie was nice, but sometimes you just wanted a little peace and quiet.

Usually you could find it by one of the smaller campfires where the counselors gathered in  groups together, with some of the older campers joining up with them to get away from the singing and storytelling. But tonight, you wanted to be alone with just Oliver, and he wasn’t going to deny your request.

“So where are we going?” He asks as you walk along the dirt path. But you don’t answer, giving him a little smile as you led him up the small hill towards the lodge.

The lodge was empty at this time of night, all the volunteers having already left for town and the Adams over by the campfire. Normally, nobody was allowed in the lodge after hours like this, but if nobody knew, who would it really hurt?

The two of you step in from the back door, the windowed door creating the only source of light into the room as the moon gazed down on it. “This place is real creepy at night,” Oliver says, walking over to a nearby lamp. Its light baths a small part of the lodge, making it easier for the two of you to find the couch.

The two of you flop down on the couch, claiming opposite ends to lean on the arm rests. Oliver gets nice and comfortable in his seat, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “We’re all alone.” He wiggles his eyebrows seductively, you think.

You chuckle, “You know what that means, right?” Oliver raises an eyebrow at your question, waiting for you to continue. “Means you can drop the act now, at least around me.”

Oliver's expression changes instantly when you speak, his face falling. He sits there in silence for a moment, and you worry that you may have said something wrong. But the look in his eyes tells you otherwise.

It's quiet as he ponders your words, wondering if you said them to be mean or if you were sincere. But you just give him an encouraging smile, showing that you meant what you said.

Finally he lets go of his relaxed demeanor. His body grows tight and strained, his face entering into a scowl that you’ve grown slightly familiar with these past few weeks. “What the fuck does Asher have against me?” he asks, his tone irritated.

“What?” That was definitely not what you were expecting to come out of his mouth. Complaining about the campers, that was his usual topic.

Sure, he's thought about how to make a counselor like him before, but you and him hang out with Asher every day. With the stuff going on in the woods you had too. So where was this coming from?

Oliver narrows in on your confusion. “Asher, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?” Oliver seems annoyed that you’re not exactly understanding what the problem seems to be, so he keeps on, trying to explain. “It’s like… every time they see me they have something to say. And they don’t even say a lot.”

“What exactly are we talking about here?” you ask, trying to be as understanding as possible. Even though you really don’t understand. “I haven’t noticed Asher treating you any differently.”

Oliver snorts, “Yeah, cause you’re too busy hanging off of Ezra’s every word.”

You tense up at that. Why would he bring that up? You thought you were over that by now. "I don–"

“Or Kairi’s,” Oliver continues, “Don’t get me started on her…” Oliver starts shaking his left knee in agitation, and you stare at it with worry etched across your face. You had no idea Oliver had been worrying about this. Just what kind of conversations were he and Asher having when you weren’t around?

“Regret asking yet?” Oliver asks, catching you out of your thoughts. You look up at him and see the scowl has been switched with a quiet smile.

You roll your eyes at his flip-flopping, you didn’t regret asking about his feelings. Just hated how he talked about the others like that. “You really think Asher doesn’t like you?” you finally ask.

Oliver shrugs, seeming to genuinely consider his dilemma for the first time. "I don't know... Why do you like me?"

“No way, not answering that,” you say instantly. You look away, but it's too late. Oliver's already back to that stupid charming smile of his. He moves closer to you, but you turn back to glare at him. “No. Your ego is already huge.”

“Not huge enough.” He’s sitting right next to you now, nudging his shoulder against yours playfully. “Come on, tell me.”

But you weren't going to be convinced so easily. You looked away from him again, trying to ignore the fact that he was now leaning against you.

Oliver wasn’t going to take that disrespect. He scooted away a little bit and you felt disappointment flood through you. That was until Oliver leaned around and dropped his head onto your lap.

"What are you doing?" You couldn't resist; you put your hands on trying to maintain the contact you had before, one hand stroking his hair and the other cradling his head. It felt a bit embarrassing how easily it came to you, but Oliver didn't seem to mind the attention.

“Waiting,” Oliver looks up at you briefly before closing his eyes and letting out a content sigh. “I can sit here all night if it means you confess.”

You chuckled at his childishness. Oliver mostly acted like this because he wanted to be perceived a certain way. But you knew him better now, this behavior was just Oliver being Oliver. “Well, I have a group of teenagers who have a bedtime.”

“Sucks for them.” You flick him on his forehead, but he just smiled again, totally immune to your attempt. After a few silent minutes passed, you watch Oliver settle again, trying to get a little more comfortable in your lap. Your hands stay in the same position, but you slowly rub his forehead with your thumb.

It’s hard for you to think about your feelings for him. You’ve only known each other for such a short amount of time, but you already feel like he’s the one for you. Which is a pretty insane thing to be deciding on at your young age.

There was no guarantee you would see each other after summer ended. Oliver would go back to living in Gailin down the freeway and you’d be getting on a plane and leaving the state. You could call, but how long would that last? Oliver was charming, not exactly friendly, but people weren’t afraid to get close to him. It would be so easy for his eyes to wander.

Even worse, all the stuff happening at camp made you worry for his safety. Oliver could take care of himself, you knew that, but that didn’t mean you were never worried. You wished you were in the same cabin as him, then maybe your heart wouldn’t tighten up every time you had to say goodbye at night.

You’ve never felt any of this stuff before. Why did you like him?

You lift your other hand then, setting it on his cheek tenderly. Oliver opens his eyes slightly and gives you a lazy smile. You're pretty sure he's almost asleep by now, but you say it anyway.

“When I’m with you, I feel like I have the whole world in my hands.”

Oliver blinks up at you, maybe he hadn’t heard you? Then, he shifts his body and sits up a bit, wrapping his arms around your torso. He lets out a relieved sigh and squeezes you tighter than he ever has before. "Thank you," he whispers.

You stay there a little longer until you feel his breathing even out. Eventually, he falls asleep, nestled against you on the lodge’s couch. It's not the most comfortable position for you, but you didn’t mind.

Checking the time on your phone, you decide you’re willing to be late getting the kids back together. You lean back and close your own eyes. Guess you’ll just have to take the lecture from the Adams.

#camp overlook #asks #this is just fanfiction #praise me #possibly canon?!?!?! #i fucking wish

[foggyfanfic]

Love and Fury

Chapter Preview: Bruno took note of his pants in her lap, which she was indeed mending, and the small basket of cookies sitting on one of the insulated crates behind her. It was official. He was the worst person who ever existed.

(Contains some light smut, if that's not your thing, skim past the part where Bruno is in the shower.)

Ch1 Prev Next Masterlist

Chapter 7 A Gift Exchange

“Are those the pants you left in?” Pepa asked, in lieu of a greeting as he walked into Casita.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he told her miserably.

She laughed and shook her head, “Oh Brunito, what have you gotten up to?”

He didn’t answer, just grumbled, “I’m taking a shower.”

He stopped by his room to grab a change of clothes and a towel. Pepa was no longer in the courtyard when he crossed it towards the bathroom, which was good because she likely would have had more questions for him.

Bruno had no clue how he would explain the afternoon to her, especially considering who he spent it with. He didn’t really want to tell her that he had decided to spend all of his free time securing an apology for her, since apologies meant a lot less if they were forced rather than freely given. And if she didn’t know that he was spending all his time with Reina for her sake, then she would probably be a bit hurt to learn he had spent the past couple of weeks with the woman that had stolen her boyfriend.

Bruno sighed as he waited for the water to warm up, he had really made a mess of things.

Reina was not what he’d expected. She was supposed to be catty, petty, and shallow. Instead, she was kind, mischievous, and interesting. He tried to convince himself that she was only playing nice to get on his good side, but that was getting kind of hard to believe.

But if she wasn’t a horrible person, why did she steal Cicero from Pepa? And why was she refusing to apologize?

Bruno’s stomach twisted unhappily as one answer came to mind, the simplest answer. Reina must have been overwhelmed by her feelings for Cicero, and maybe she was refusing to apologize because she was still worried Pepa would steal Cicero back.

The water didn’t quite wash away his troubles, but it did wash away the mixture of goat saliva and salt on his upper thigh. He idly scrubbed at the mess with a rag as he glared at the tiled  wall.

Dios, what did girls like Pepa and Reina even see in Cicero? 

He thought about her stopping him on the bridge to list off his good qualities; he'd never heard her say anything like that about Cicero. Probably because there wasn’t a lot of positive stuff to say about the skirt chasing lay about. How could Reina not see that? Why was she willing to act so crazy for that guy?

Bruno groaned, he needed to stop thinking about this, it didn’t matter why Reina had wanted to steal Cicero, it just mattered that she had hurt Pepa in the process. He resolved to push it out of his mind and think about something else. Anything else.

Like how good she looked in her soaked chemise.

Ok, nevermind, not anything else. Almost anything else, but not that.

Unfortunately, once the image was in his head, he couldn’t banish it. It wasn’t just the visual either, it was her low voice, the concern she’d shown for him, the feeling of her body against his or her fingers in his hair.

He scowled down at his dick, which was standing at attention once more, “Stop that, she is the enemy.”

His dick, thankfully, said nothing back (a talking penis was the last thing he needed). His imagination on the other hand betrayed him, posing the question, what if she had been bathing instead of doing laundry? What if instead of being covered in soaked linen, she had worn nothing but suds?

What if, when he had fallen into the pond, she had chosen to wash him instead of his shirt? 

He could practically feel her breasts pushing against his back while she massaged shampoo into his hair. It wasn’t hard to imagine what her hands would feel like on his chest, his stomach, his thighs. She would giggle and tease him when she noticed his erection, but call him handsome while she wrapped her soaped up hand around his cock.

Bruno groaned and gave in to the temptation to do just that.

“You’re just not having a good day, are you guapo?” she would ask, her hand slowly stroking him, “Let’s see if we can make it a little better.”

As much as he would like to imagine himself saying something sexy or witty back to her, he knew that he would stutter and trip over any attempts to speak. Worse, he would probably end up telling her she didn’t have to do anything out of reflexive politeness.

She would shush him gently, “That’s alright, I want to. You’re so kind, so clever. I feel lucky, having the chance to see you like this.”

Bruno groaned, squeezing himself tightly, and picking up the pace.

Maybe she would kiss his shoulder, or playfully nip at his neck. Leave marks on his flesh with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“There, now everybody will know,” she would whisper before scraping her teeth against the shell of his ear, “they’ll see that Bad Luck Bruno got lucky after all.”

Bruno worked the head of his cock, panting as he imagined her strong arms squeezing him around the middle, humming peacefully while he fell apart in her embrace. As he got close she would whisper encouragement and tell him how much she liked the feel of him in her hand.

“Come on guapo, I’m enjoying the view, but I wanna see the grand finale,” she would kiss the corner of his mouth then pout playfully at him, “Do I have to beg? Is that what you like? Begging? Bruno, por favor.”

He came with a gasp and the fantasy faded away, leaving him standing alone in the shower.

He sighed and watched his cum get washed down the drain. Bruno rinsed himself off then shut off the water. Somewhat desperately, he tried his very best not to think about what he had just done, he focused as hard as one could on toweling off and getting dressed. Unfortunately, neither of those things required a great deal of focus, so he wasn’t doing a very good job of not thinking.

Bruno had tried dating twice in his life, neither relationship had gone well. The first had been fine in the beginning, both Bruno and the young woman were fifteen, and had been convinced in the way that teenagers often were that they were in love. Right up until they had started experimenting with a more physical relationship.

She had been much like Reina, charming and confident, and had no problem giving Bruno feedback without making it seem like he had done anything wrong. Bruno lacked such finesse and had somehow managed to make the poor girl cry when all he meant to ask for was that she start out a bit gentler then work her way up to treating him roughly. He had managed to apologize and explain during the subsequent break up, but by then the damage was done.

She stilled smiled at him when she saw him around town, he might have even called her a friend. Except, every time he looked at her he remembered how he'd made her cry and would feel too ashamed of himself to do anything more than nod politely before he beat a hasty retreat.

The less said about Bruno’s second relationship the better, but suffice to say, he might just be the only person in the village with worse taste in men than Pepa. And he now knew that being somebody’s dirty little secret was not as fun as it seemed in books.

He was pretty certain his attraction to Reina was purely physical with maybe just a smidge of “enjoying the attention” on the side. He was also pretty certain that it was going to get him into a world of trouble if he didn’t nip it in the bud. Generally, he’d avoid her for the sake of said nipping, but doing that would mean giving up on Pepa’s apology.

Perhaps that was Reina’s master plan.

Bruno sighed and shook his head. No, it probably wasn’t. He was pretty sure she didn’t have a master plan, that if she was half as good at planning as he had initially  assumed she wouldn’t have resorted to throwing food around. Odds were, she was just as much a slave to her passions as anyone else.

Her passions for Cicero of all people. Ugh.

And now he was right back to wondering what she saw in that idiot. Great.

Bruno spent the rest of the day, and night trying to chase thoughts of Cicero and Reina out of his mind. Unfortunately, those thoughts got the upper hand, and chased him into his dreams where he was forced to watch Pepa and Reina fight for Cicero's entertainment. The dream eventually turned into Bruno being chained up in a bathtub while Reina scrubbed Cicero just out of his reach. 

Bruno woke up in a terrible mood and scowled his way through his morning routine. He was prepared to spend the day ignoring Reina in favor of the book of poetry he’d brought, but the second he made eye contact with her he suddenly remembered that he’d barged in on her when she was almost completely naked.

He’d barged in on her almost completely naked, then jerked off about it.

“Morning guapo, how are you doin-?”

“I am so, so, so sorry,” he blurted, loudly. 

Leandra took that as a sufficient answer and moved on, “Did you bring Papa’s pants?”

Bruno slapped his forehead and cursed, he had not.

“That’s fine, you can bring them on Thursday,” she shrugged, “the goats nibbled a small hole in yours, I was just mending it now. Oh, and I brought us some cookies, since you had such a bad day yesterday.”

Bruno took note of his pants in her lap, which she was indeed mending, and the small basket of cookies sitting on one of the insulated crates behind her. It was official. He was the worst person who ever existed.

He apologized again but she waved him off and invited him to come sit. He did so. Bruno sat in his chair, staring miserably at the book of poetry, and wondered when he had become so unforgivably evil.

Leandra began to suspect something might be wrong when he had sat silent and motionless for fifteen minutes. Bruno wasn’t the motionless sort.

“How we doing over there?” she asked, without looking up from his pants.

“Bad.”

“Ah.”

There was a pause as she considered her stitches, then considered him. She gave him a gentle smile then turned back to his pants. He continued to stare into space, miserably.

“Have a cookie.”

Bruno shook his head, “I can’t take your food! I-I walked in on you when you were- I saw you- I-. Lo siento.”

“Bruno,” she said, then paused as he knocked on the wooden stall, when he was done she continued, “I was on public land, in a public pond, outside. It’s not like you kicked down the bathroom door while I was changing. You were a perfect gentleman yesterday, way better behaved than me, in fact. If I had felt unsafe or creeped upon I would have left and I definitely would not have invited you to follow me home. Ok?”

“I still feel- I am just so sorry,” he sighed, wiping a hand over his face.

“Alright, you’re sorry, what you going to do about it?”

“Do about it?”

“Si.”

Bruno thought for a minute. He could back off so she could be with Cicero, except that would likely hurt Pepa so he cast that thought aside. What else could he do?

“I don’t suppose you need your fortune told,” he muttered wryly, scratching at his chin as he thought about things he could do to make up for seeing her in such an exposed state (and enjoying it).

“Not real- well, does it have to be my fortune? Or could I ask for anything?”

Bruno shrugged, “What do you want?”

“I wanna see men walk on the moon,” she said, brightly, “I’ve been thinking about it ever since you said it. I even had a couple dreams about it.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, I can do that,” Bruno nodded, “repeating visions I’ve had before takes way less energy.”

“Great! When can we do this?”

He opened his mouth to tell her to come by Casita with him when the market closed, then immediately remembered that he was trying to keep Mission Apology a secret from Pepa, instead he volunteered, “Tomorrow. I uh, I can meet you somewhere, as long as it’s a wide open space.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly aware of the fact that he usually did this sort of thing in his tower, but shrugged, “How about the old riverbed? Out past the coffee orchard. That way you don’t have to bring your own sand.”

“That works,” he agreed, trying not to smile at her thoughtfulness. 

One of the first big projects the village undertook was creating a dependable irrigation system, this of course being before the Madrigal triplets got their powers and the town could just rely on Pepa’s shifting moods to water the crops. They kept the irrigation system working these days, just in case Pepa had an especially good year. It diverted water from the river to a few ditches and reservoirs before reconnecting to the river on the other side of the valley. This left a long part of the old riverbed dry and exposed.

“Perfect, now will you have a cookie? I didn’t make them for decoration,” she reached back and grabbed the basket, offering it to him.

His smile won and he accepted a cookie. They were good, not quite as good as Julietta’s cooking, but nothing ever was. He thanked her and she grinned at him as she snagged a cookie for herself.

“Read to me again,” she told him, eyes fixated on her mending.

Bruno looked at the book of poetry, looked at her, then stared into space for a few beats as his imagination carried him off to a world where he recited poetry for her, “Ummmmm no, no… I don’t think-. Not this book.”

“What? Why not?” she peeked over and read the title, then grinned wryly, “Oh I get it, saving all the love poems for the goats, are you?”

“Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious, absolutely hilarious,” he deadpanned and she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Well, you’ll have to do something to entertain me, otherwise I shall perish from boredom before your pants are done.”

He rolled his eyes, but figured it was only fair, “Alright, l-let me think.”

“If you must.”

“I must.”

He thought and she mended.

“Do you know any good songs?”

“I’m not singing for you.”

“Can you juggle?”

“Yes, but only on the 31st of February.”

“Oh! Oh! Striptease?!”

“Wha-? No. Reina!”

“Guapo!”

She giggled and he did his best to swallow his own laugh, even as his cheeks burned. She paused in her mending to flutter her eyelashes at him and blow the goofiest, most obnoxious kiss she could manage. He gave in to the urge to laugh.

“How about I tell you a story,” he suggested, when they had settled a bit.

“Sure, I want to hear about the time the big bad wolf met the evil Queen,” she gently prodded his calf with her toe.

“Too bad, I’m telling you a better story, the best story ever told,” Bruno spread his hands out in front of him, “It’s called Destilando Amor.”

“Never heard of it.”

“W-well that’s because it’s from the future, see? It’s like a whole… I mean it’s a bit long, b-but it’s good. I promise.”

Leandra shrugged, “Alright, let’s hear it.”

Bruno smiled broadly and set his book aside, settling in to explain everything he could remember from the telenovela he saw in his vision. Reina proved herself to be an attentive audience, only interrupting the story to ask questions about the characters or talk to customers. 

However, she also proved herself to be terribly uncultured.

“Wait, that’s it? That’s how it ends?” she wrinkled her nose, “I don’t like it.”

Bruno gasped, he’d be clutching his pearls if he had any, “What?”

He had spent the entire day telling her all about his favorite telenovela, just for her to decry it.

“That’s so unfair! Girl got sold into prostitution and run over and doesn’t even get a happy ending out of it?”

Ok, so maybe the ending was a bit abrupt, and things definitely could have been better for the protagonist, but her ending wasn’t that bad. “Yes she does, she gets a new job with-.”

Leandra crossed her arms, making an unhappy harumph sound, “On Thursday I want a story with a happy ending. And justice! I want the bad guys to get their justice!”

Bruno rolled his eyes, “Well fine, if you need to be spoon fed a traditional happy ending-.”

“Oh please!”

“-I will make sure to stop by the library to grab a book of children’s fairy tales.”

She pulled a face at him and began packing the leftover cheese up while making exaggerated huffing noises until she had pulled a chuckle out of him. Bruno fiddled with the newly returned pants for a little then got up to help her.

“I have some Jane Austen at home,” she told him, once the wagon was all packed.

“Oh? Really? I’ve only ever read Pride and Prejudice,” he looked up at her with interest as he gave Leche his goodbye tummy rub.

“I’ll bring it, I can read to you this time,” she helped him to his feet, “although I’ll admit I’m not as good at doing the voices as you are.”

“Well,” he drew the word out, a small teasing grin on his face, “if you can’t do the voices then what’s even the point? I may as well just keep reading.”

She rolled her eyes at him but offered, “We can take turns, I’ll read a chapter then you read a chapter.”

“Sounds fair.” 

“Good, see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he promised, watching as she walked away with Leche by her side. When she was out of sight Bruno turned to walk home but stopped when he saw Cicero standing across the road, frowning at him.

Bruno pursed his lips at the other man, for a few blissful hours he’d forgotten he existed. Cicero looked at Bruno, then at the path Reina had disappeared down before looking back at Bruno. He cocked his head and Bruno realized he was being examined.

He tried picturing how this all looked from Cicero’s point of view, slowly it occurred to him that it looked like Bruno had asked out Reina, and more importantly, like she had said yes. 

Bruno had never been a smug sort of man, but for whatever reason he found himself smirking. He felt like telling Cicero… something. Something cool, something devastating, something that would convince Cicero that he didn’t stand a chance with Reina. But Bruno suspected that anything he said wouldn’t sound as cool out loud as it did in his head, so he just grinned a little bit wider and strolled away.

That night he dreamed that he was reciting children’s rhymes to Reina while Cicero watched on, seething with impotent rage.

#Bruno Madrigal x OC #bruno madrigal x female oc #Bruno Madrigal #Bruno Encanto #Bruno Madrigal Fanfic #Love and Fury #fanfic #bruno fanfic

[medicallymercury]

Okay, I’ve had my thinking time but I still haven’t actually watched all of yesterday’s episode and I need to make my spoilers post but here’s what I’ve got to say about the stuff with Teddy and Paige (and also Sah).

Everything below the cut cause I’m ranting and rambling:

I want to start by saying that I think I struggle to get annoyed at characters when I’m supposed to in this show because I recognise all annoying behaviour as either in character or just how people in this show behave and then I’m cool with it. There are a few exceptions but that’s usually where annoying behaviour feels in character and I already don’t like that character. I sometimes get why people are annoyed at characters or wish that a character would respond to something differently but, for me, as long as a character’s actions are consistent with their characterisation and I usually like that character, I’ll probably just take them as they are. Like with Sah right now, I get why people want them to go off on Paige like they might’ve a year ago but I don’t really agree because how they’re acting right now seems so in line with their development so far and not just on a they’re nicer now level.

I think that “Paige is forced to face her feelings” feels like it was a pretty inaccurate episode summary because I don’t think she was forced to do that at all. But the fact that the summary played on the idea that Paige does have feelings about the kiss and towards Sah is still interesting in what this could mean when Sah is back. But yeah, I think she’s protesting too much and definitely isn’t telling the truth about the kiss (did you see her panicked reaction to Sah saying they want to tell Teddy about the kiss in Hooke’s Law? THAT’S GUILT). I get why people might still be annoyed at her but I’m in a weird place with her because I do feel like she’s stopped being as terrible as she was in the past two episodes and I guess I didn’t expect their reunion to be quite so genuine on her part? I was surprised that the episode treated it like she was being honest when I don’t think many kisses in the world of Casualty actually mean “nothing” and I’m waiting on the revelation that the kiss did mean something in a couple episodes. I think that neutral is probably the best way to describe my feelings towards her right now, it depends how she acts with Sah after this (I feel like Sah deserves an apology).

I also get why people might be annoyed at Teddy for taking her back so quickly but I really do feel like this is consistent with his characterisation. If he still won’t talk to Sah when they’re back (which seems possible because they have to keep the drama going somehow), I’ll probably get annoyed at him then but even then it comes back to the issue of it being in character - if he’s still ignoring Sah but it still feels in character (and there are totally ways that they could pull that off) then I probably won’t get all that annoyed at him even though I’ll want to. I think the issue is also that I find Teddy really relatable, he’s my ‘he’s so me’ character in Casualty and I feel like that makes me more likely to defend him even when I know he’s in the wrong so we’ll see how it goes and I’d like him to also forgive Sah right away but I’m not really expecting it.

I missed Sah a lot in this episode. In my little summary video I made for my friend (I do this every week so they know what I’m yelling about), I included Teddy and Paige hugging and just the words “SOMEONE IS MISSING HERE”. I’m still weirded out by the possibility of them already being back next week but I’ll be happy to see them again.

I found the line “you’re the only one I care about” interesting because of the wording. Just the way that caring about someone isn’t an inherently romantic thing, I guess? Even if Paige is telling the truth (she’s not) and she doesn’t “care about” Sah, that definitely isn’t true for Teddy. He very clearly cares about Sah, he cares about Sah enough to get shot for them. I also found it interesting because it kind of parallels Teddy saying that he wants to split the bill with Paige “and no one else” in Believe Me. I mean, this whole thing was kind of foreshadowed by the fact that their relationship began with Teddy accidentally planning to go on dates with two different people but the long-term Sah/Teddy shipper in me has always had a bit of a SUUUUURE TEDDY response to that line specifically - it gives me the same feeling that Teddy’s thing about him and Paige “having the chat about being exclusive” gave me in Lose Yourself and look where that went.

I will be honest, I’m not sure where we’re going from here - I don’t think we’ll get much next week based on spoilers. Polyamory still feels as likely as it did before, so like pretty unlikely but excitingly possible which is enough to keep me believing in it. I find Sah and Teddy’s relationship so interesting that part of me thinks that, even if they don’t choose the polyamory route and end up coming up with some form of endless misery for both of them to endure, I’ll probably still enjoy this storyline for the drama of it all. To me, Sah and Teddy’s friendship will always just be like one of those kinda weird friendships you have with other queer people when you’re in your teens (do people even know what I’m on about, I know this isn’t just my experience?) but they’re going through it in their mid-20s because they missed out on it when they were actual teenagers since they were busy dealing with their mother problems, but I recognise that this is a bit of a niche interpretation of them. Still, it makes any storyline that they could do with them extremely interesting to me, [insert insufferably lengthy essay about them here].

#sometimes i worry i come across all ‘i’m right and no one else is’ THIS IS JUST MY INTERPRETATION AND I RESPECT EVERYONE ELSE’S #cas ep: dog days #bbc casualty #casualty #shoelace fandom #paige allcott #teddy gowan #sah brockner #the polyfailure <\3

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

This might seem like a pretty out of the blue question but, how do you feel about characters that, due to trauma or a bad past, act very aggressive and/or distant to hide their fear of being hurt again?

I'm asking because, in addition to characters from series like Black Butler (Ciel), Vanitas no Carte (Vanitas) and TWST, a lot of people tend to ignore their pain just to focus on how bad of a person they are/were.

I was reading a Chinese manhua I borrowed from my friend at her place, and the main female is a girl who acts aggressive and has a short temper but it turns out that she's trapped in an unhealthy and abusive relationship with a man who's obsessed with trying to bring back his dead wife. Why is it abusive? The man makes her wear a pendant that he monitors her with, uses emotional and psychological abuse and manipulation, gaslighting, threats of r*pe and murder to control the girl's life and keep her as his bodyguard for fuck knows how long. All the while, he sleeps with and steals the souls of several people, convinced that his wife would forgive him for his infidelity (?) and cruelty.

According to my friend, a lot of people who read the manhua dislike the girl because, aside from her temper and bluntness, she slapped the main protagonist for trying to help her (he said "I'm here to help you. Stop acting like this." which triggered some bad memories. He meant no harm, mind you.) even after learning of her relationship with the man, saying stuff like "She's a powerful mage, isn't she? She'll be fine." or "She shouldn't have slapped him. This is her karma for acting bitchy."

So as someone with severe trauma and a lot of fucking issues, there is SO MUCH to unpack here if I get into detail so lemme put this here

Ok, so I don’t mean this to offend/upset anyone, and let me say, everyone responds to trauma differently, the brain isn’t programmed to handle lifelong trauma which can lead to acting out or doing odd things as trauma affects the mental state of an individual

Trauma actually is proven to mentally age children people far faster as it forces them to ‘grow’ faster (ex: Ciel, Jamil, Riddle) which can have a huge impact on their life (almost never good)

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If you act aggressive as an adult and hurt people, it doesn’t matter the trauma, you don’t have an excuse to hurt others physically or mentally, you are an adult, how you acts is on YOU. I’m told I’m overly nice (especially for someon whose literally died briefly and was physically/mentally abused for my entire child hood)

In childhood acting out with violence is common especially when uncomfortable or scared is normal and expected as they have no controlling their emotions.

Adults are different, irl im distant for dozens of reasons but I don’t take it out on people, and yes I’ve verbally gotten aggressive when accidentally (or intentionally) triggered by someone but I have a brain so I know to fucking apologize since trauma doesn’t excuse such inappropriate behavior.

For instance, I have trauma that some of characters above have, and less than others but I HATE seeing people use it to excuse shitty behavior (Twst is a HUGE example of this)

People react differently to trauma, that’s normal but once your an adult, do know you are responsible for your own decisions, for what YOU do. For instance, that woman from a manhua (idk what that is/ hadn’t read) has no right to physically slap another individual (especially one openigly stating they are tryna help) she could have fucking said ‘no’ or ‘go away’ or WALKED AWAY. Honestly she’s just making me dislike her based on that (like what was the trigger? I obviously don’t know the situation but it just seems like she wanted to take out frustrations on him)

I’ve been r*ped, beaten/abused, neglected, etc. for 23 YEARS NOW (OBVIOUSLY NOT FIR EVERY SECOND BUT STILL). How many people have I hit because of it? 0 (minus the ‘trigger’ I had while I was defending myself once but it did nothing, actually made things worse) how many people have I yelled at? A fuck ton. How many did I apologize to? Almost all of them.

I don’t give a shit when you yell at people in an argument but know this, you’re trauma doesn’t excuse what you say and due, it’s a fucking burden you’re stuck with , that has no upside. Yelling/attacking people is turning you into the monster and making others miserable and guess fucking what? OTHER PEOPLE CAN HAVE TRAUMA. What if you just fucking lashed out at someone more broken than you? You feel good now?

Lashing out isn’t a good option, she didn’t deserve what happened to her, but she has no excuse for harming the hero AT ALL, trauma isn’t an excuse to attack others to help yourself, yes when scared you want to fight but, APOLOGIZE... What, did she think hurting him would stop everyone who will and has ever existed from asking her the same thing? What if that hero has trauma and had a breakdown? Is that still ‘ok’ for her to do? No not unless it’s her abuser.

Like with that girl, aside from being resurrected and a husband, I’ve been through all the trauma she has since I was a young child (actually a lil more since there’s a LOT I’ve been through she hasn’t but I’m younger). And I’ve felt with it, so many time since then and I have breakdown often. I’ve had people who remind me of my abusive father whose almost killed me more times than I can count and I have literally permanent injuries from.

It’s ok to hurt but it’s not ok to hurt others(without concent), I know I sound like a broken record but it’s important to remember to an extent you can control your trauma, get therapy or have someone you trust who you can talk to about your feels.

Basically it’s ‘an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth’ that will cause more issues and fix nothing

If someone slapped me for ASKING if they were ok, I’d fucking panic and cry, running the fuck away and avoid that person till I fucking die. Like. You hurt me for asking if you were ok. That’s not ok under any circumstances what the fuck? I’d rather die in a ditch than talk to you…at least the ditch won’t hurt me.

It’s just, so BAD to hurt someone over a circumstance like that, unless he racked her to the ground or smn that physical violence is uncalled for completely.

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#ask #ask box #tw r*pe #tw ableism #tw assualt #tw truama